This is a true set of circumstances with a fictionalized result. Names have been changed.
Bennie Part 1 - By Gruntraq
Bennie was the older step brother of my high school pal Doyle. We all used to party together, chased pussy together, and get in trouble together. It was a scene not unlike the gang in the movie "The Outsiders", except that I was from the "better side of the tracks" but chose to hang with these guys because we just really clicked. We spent half our lives at Bennie and Doyle's house listening to heavy metal, reading playboys, drinking beer, smoking , and wrenching on our cars. Their parents were both gone most of the time hated each other anyway. It was usually just one of them at home at any time and they allowed partying even when they were there, so just about anything went. We all had after school jobs and usually pooled what money we had to cover our beer and gas needs.
Quite different from my long time pal Doyle, Bennie was a raw Italian guy with more machismo than even two guys needed. He was not too tall, about 5'-8" but built well proportionately. He had a perfect Adonis shape with the pronounced V torso and a solid set of wide shoulders thick arms. His ass was nice and tight and always looked best in a pair of Levi 501's. He could never keep a shirt on, his tanned chest was only lightly haired allowing the few battle scars of his past street fights to show across his stomach. His square jaw line was anchored with a small chin dimple and a thin mustache. He had a short mullet of dark wavy hair and the darkest deepest brown eyes I have ever seen. Behind his pronounced Italian nose those eyes were the windows into his soul that was afire. Afire? He had that alpha-male presence that always put you and every one else on notice. Guys got it. Women got it, and he got them - lots of them. I lost count of the many weekends Doyle and I were in the bedroom next to his listening to him fuck the shit out of the latest chick. He would often come in and see us afterwards to gloat, rubbing his cock and drunkenly bragging about his manhood. He would stand there in his underwear, a thick package still evident, rubbing it. The smell of his sex would fill the room. Damn that made me hard as a rock.
The other side of Bennie was his rage. He was a hot head and when he got drunk there was always a fight with someone. When he could not find a foe out on the street, he would take it out on my friend and I. While he never hurt us, he loved to haze and make you think you were in for it. He liked wrestling you down and pinning you until you apologized foe whatever you did and making sure you knew he would kick your ass. It was his way.
We always teased each other about being fags but that was more a machismo based hazing, so I had thought. I was always turned on by it and fantasized, but kept it under wraps as I knew if I acted on it I would lose a lot.
The last year we hung out, Bennie had already graduated HS and was 18 now. Doyle and I were both 17 and headed for our senior year. Bennie worked at a local gas station as an attendant. He was always a damn hot stud in the blue coveralls he wore at work. He would be greasy and smelling of gasoline every time he came home. At the time he had no car or it was broken, I cant remember. He would get rides from Doyle or other friends to and from work most of the time. This one particular night I went by the station to get some gas and Bennie was still there. He had some guy's tire down on the ground and was jabbing one of those repair plugs into it. After I filled up I pulled over to the side and came over to BS with him for a few minutes. As normal he was covered with dirt and grease with sweat staining much of the upper part of his coveralls.
He was pretty quick to ask if I had time to give him a ride home when he got off work. I told him I had nothing going, and was planning on heading over to their place tonight anyway to see what was up. He told me that he and his girlfriend were fighting and Doyle went up north to visit his mom for the weekend, that nobody else was around to give him the ride. This was not unusual, so I hung out and we BS'd for the next half hour until he got off work. When it came time he punched out and washed his hands in the grimy sink at the garage. He then grabbed a small brown bag from his locker and waved it at me with a shit eating grin. "I got us hooked up for a buzz ", he said as he walked. When we got to the car he pulled out a big bottle of Jack Daniels Old No. 7. "This old man I know that comes in here every day gave me this for free", he said. "He just said it was helping with his car over the past months". I was pretty stoked as I now knew we were gonna get pretty fucked up tonight, and we didn't have to go hang out in front of 7-11 asking for someone to buy us beer all night to get there.
We originally planned to hang out at his parents house, crank some tunes, get drunk, and see if any friends were up for a party. Unfortunately for us both his parents were there, already drunk and were well into a long night of fighting. This was normal when the two of them were together and these were times we always stayed away. Upon our arrival things were flying across the room, so we left pretty much immediately. Ben had wanted to shower away the day's sweat and oil and change his clothes, but we just wanted to get out of there. So we walked a block down to our alternate party place, the neighborhood park. Many of us in the neighborhood used to party there when no where else was available.
It was dark out, and on the walk to the park Ben popped the cap on the JD and began taking a few swigs. Noticeably irritated about the scene back home, he wanted to get started. We passed the bottle back and forth as we made our way to the small wooded park. The place was a pretty cool party spot. It had some open areas with benches, picnic tables, and ball fields, but was bordered by thickly wooded areas that allowed you to drink and smoke without the local PD seeing ya there.
We found our usual spot at the edge of the field just into the woods and sat on the grass. He was hitting the JD pretty hard and I was struggling to keep up. Agitated by his girl problems, car problems, and parent problems he was stewing over there as we drank. As we hit the half way mark on the JD, we were feeling the warm sullen numbness that whiskey brings. He was relaxing a little as our conversation turned to our current lack of places to go and his women to fuck. While I really never had many girls, he did all the time. For him a couple days without pussy was like a couple of days without water. "Damn I need to get some pussy", he'd say and rub his package. "I've been hard all day - FUCK!". He'd take another long draw off the JD and wince.
I had always wanted to have at this Italian Stud. Years ago, my first wet dream was him pounding me in the ass as I woke to a shooting stream of cum on my sheets. I smartly kept my desires to myself however as he was the older brother of my best friend whom I did not want to loose or cross. I had jacked off many nights listening to him fuck in the room next door as Doyle slept. I spent the next hour engaging him in deeper conversation as we proceeded to get pretty plowed. He was still on edge and had that semi-volatile aura as we got beyond the usual idle chat. There was a fire of rage in there just smoldering, waiting for enough alcohol or the right flashpoint to come out.
He leaned back on the grass and wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his blue coveralls. He was sexy as ever. Smelling of sweat, gas and oil. He was feeling pretty dirty though, and unzipped the top half of his uniform. Pulling his sweaty arms from the sleeves, he rolled the coveralls down over his waist and took another drink. His odor filled the air like a plume of smoke rolling from a fire. I covertly admired his muscular torso as he stretched out and laid back on the grass. "Damn that feels better", he let out with a deep voice. "I wish I could have gotten a shower, I stink." "Yup, ya sure do", I kidded. Looser from the booze, he chidingly stuck his hand down in his crotch coddling his package and then smelled it. "Whoooo! That is rank shit!" he exclaimed. I was still pulling my eyes from the line of hair going down his belly button into the roll of blue coveralls when he grabbed my face with his cock hand pushing me over on the ground. Playfully but aggressively he snuffed his hand on my mouth and nose giving me a full dose of the sweat off his cock. "Smells pretty bad huh!", ha laughed continuing to hold my head down on the grass. As I struggled he rolled over pinning me down with a knee in my groin and rubbing my face harder with his hand. He finally pulled back, releasing me and said with a taunting smile, "Sorry, I could not resist", then laughed more as he took another swig. "I know you like it anyway , I think you're part fag", he kidded. I grabbed the bottle and took another my self, pretending to wash his cock off my lips. Inside I was reeling. His rank cock sweat was permeating my nostrils and lips, I could taste it. I was getting hard.
I finally peeled my T-Shirt off as the heat of the JD began to make me sweat. Bennie was sitting cross legged next to me as we faced out toward the empty ball field. His overalls now rolled down to his waist, I was able to admire his studism. The occasional car would go by in the distance, but in our deeply setting buzz we barely noticed.
He pulled out his pocket knife and began fiddling with it like he usually does when he is drunk. Still euphoric from his cock smell on my face I asked him about the scar on his stomach. "How did you get that scar?", I asked, "I always wanted to know" . He shuddered mildly as he tipped the bottle for another shot. "When I lived in San Jose, I got in a fight with some Chicano fucks." He pulled his overalls down and away and cleared the area so I could see. "Three of them beat the shit out of me and one of them stabbed me right here". The scar was diagonal from just left of his belly button and led down toward his left groin area just below his belt line. He pulled his coveralls far enough down that I could see his pubic hair escaping, as he motioned back and forth with his hand along the line of the cut. "The guy thought I was fucking his girlfriend and he wanted to make a point if ya know what I mean", he smiled. "Well it looks like he almost did." I said in a kidding way.
He then ran his hands down into his package again and clenched his meat under the overalls, letting out a relieving sigh. Snapping his dark eyes my way he said, "I would have killed him if he did". He kind of paused for a minute and said "I gotta take a piss". He stood up, holding his overalls up and took a few steps over to the nearest tree. As I started to hear his piss hit the ground I followed suit and went over and joined him a few feet away. Pretty drunk, I confidently looked over at his dick and watched him piss for a couple seconds. The first time I had seen his meet in the flesh, it was fat shit. Man he was thick. He shook off the last drops and looked over at me. I had looked away but he knew I was watching. "You want to see it?", he taunted. He stepped over and let it hang out right in front of me and wagged it back and forth. It hung about half mast as he held his balls in one hand. Looking up at me he said, "7 inches when it is hard, how about you?". I was at first a little taken aback but mustered a reply, "Uh, well about 6 and a half I guess - that is pretty impressive there Bennie". With a flash of that drunken quite rage in his eye, he then abruptly shoved it back in his coveralls and sat back down where we were.
I came back and sat down and grabbed the bottle of JD. It was about ¾ gone now. I was starting to feel that rising combination or horniness and nervousness when you know something is afoot. Bennie took another drink and resumed playing with his knife. "You ever felt a knife against your skin?" he asked me looking right in my eyes. Immediately on guard I said, "Yes, remember a couple months ago, you threatened me with it when I made fun of your girlfriend. Remember? You had it right against my neck". Nodding knowingly he acknowledged. "Yeah that is right, you squirmed like a girl", he said. I remembered that night well. While I was afraid he would actually stick me, I was turned on as I felt his arms around me in a hold, his warmth penetrating me, as he held a threatening knife to my throat. I know that is whacked, but what can I say. I finally replied, "Well, you were drunk and I didn't know what you were going to do". "Yeah, I get out of control sometimes, but I would never hurt you", he said.
He laid back on the grass again and began running the tip of his knife back and forth along his scar. He looked over at me and noticed I was watching him. He just looked at me quietly with those deep dark eyes as he stroked the knife back and forth. I was laying back on the grass a foot or so from him in a kind of a drunken trance.
He suddenly rolled over behind me and grabbed me around the chest with his thick left arm. He then rolled into a full on pin-down position behind me with his leg wound over mine. With his groin pressed into my ass. His sweaty chest rubbed against my bare back as his stubbly face and chin slid over my right shoulder. At first I resisted his moves, but gave in and let him engulf my body. It felt so damn good, and he was doing it. With his 5 `o'clock stubble rubbing against my ear and his thick arm against my chest he whispered deeply, "So, does this twist you up bro?"
Continued in Bennie Part 2