Evil Benni Ch. 02

With one woman left in his wake yet not forgotten, Benni makes a determined effort to make his mom like him, at least a little more. It's time to try to set himself up to make some real money so he examines what are his main interests and concludes there are only two – women and vehicles. He shrugs, thinking that's not much to go on but it's his own fault that he allowed his eager penis to get in the way of coming out of college with a useful degree.

SEVEN

Gladys James was hanging out the washing on Saturday morning when an appliance service man arrived, and smoothed his moustache while watching her bending over the basket of laundry.

"I've come to service you," he grinned.

Gladys hadn't come down in the last shower; she'd had years of dealing with servicemen with an over-abundance of hormones.

"Buzz off, there's nothing to service around here."

"Are you Gladys James?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've got a new combo washer/dryer to install in your laundry.

"It says here on the note attached to the receipt and guarantee, 'Have a nice day, mom' and it's signed by someone who's misspelled his name as B-E-N-N-I."

Gladys burst into tears.

"Are you all right, ma'am?"

"What have you done to my wife!" roared Ross, running out from the house.

"Nothing. She just upped and started the waterworks."

"It's Benni," she sobbed. "He's done this to make me feel guilty."

Benni was now working at Pfeiffer Chevrolet, moving out Chevy pickups and doing very well, especially with farming folk who had no idea they were in the market for a replacement vehicle.

Barron Pfeiffer had given the well-dressed young Benni a month's trial as he knew Benni's father, playing snooker with him every Tuesday night.

That young man will be trouble, Marlene Pfeiffer had warned her husband, as she knew all about men, and how right she was...well, at least Benni would trouble her.

After two months, forgetting that Benni was on a month's trial, Barron asked Benni about his health, thinking the young man was losing weight and yawning a lot. But in spite of that Benni continued to build up sales volume.

"Yeah," just stretching it a bit," Benni had answered vaguely.

Benni knew the rule, never hump the boss's wife, but he had broken that rule and the never-never-definitely-never rule about humping the boss's daughter, but that was unavoidable because Bess had seen Benni humping her mom and threatened him with blackmail.

So Benni had both of them going, though never together despite often thinking about that.

It all began with Benni going out to the Johannsen's farm and convincing Lars he needed to trade-in his one-year old pickup for the latest model, adding the sweetener that he'd supply and fit an air horn without charge.

Elke Johannsen kicked up a storm when coming home and finding the new vehicle in their driveway. She phoned her best friend Marlene Pfeiffer who was shocked at the audacity of Benni, although saying the deal had been done so there was nothing she could do about it apart from seeing if they could get another five hundred dollars in on-selling the trade-in and she'd pass that $500 on to Elke to personally pocket.

Then Marlene, the company's secretary/accountant and board chairman, decided to kick butt, rushing out to confront Benni who was just driving away in his own vehicle.

"Hop in if you want a chat," he said, "I have to hurry these white-wall tires to Fenton Jones as he has a guy at the farm waiting to fit them."

Marlene, who's forty-two, still doesn't know how it happened. All she said was his vehicle sounded powerful.

Benni stopped and jumped out without saying anything. He opened her door and helped her to climb over into the driver's seat, his hands all over her.

Out on the dirt road up to Fenton's farm Benni called, 'Floor it!" She did and had one of the most exhilarating drives in her life.

Unbeknown to Benni, as a teenager Marlene had been in car gang classified by the deceptively respectful-sounding name of a 'V8 Babe' – the babes being shared round for test drives like the vehicles.

She stopped on the roadside, panting in excitement and experiencing a surge from those good ol' days. When Benni leaned over to help her over the divider to the passenger's seat she just lost in, grabbed him and it was all on; his dick was through the side of her panties and into her before she fully realized it, and then she just didn't care.

Marlene had Benni drop her off at her home and was in the shower trying to douche cum when she realized she hadn't even mentioned the Johannsen sale to him.

"My gawd," she said lewdly in a girlish sing-song voice, "That boy really is something; I have a regular job for him."

That same day Barron Pfeiffer came across his 20-year-old daughter Bess being shafted by new car sales manager, Ralph Oates. Ralph was fired and everyone moved up a slot with Benni becoming a senior salesman and Barron took the opportunity of putting him on the permanent staff list.

Benni started hanging around Barron, feeling a little guilty at screwing Marlene and the two men began getting along well. Barron learned that Benni had played a bit of golf at college so invited him to partner with him at the Country Club. Benni played well enough for them to take the side-bets and soon they were playing together two or three times a month.

Before too long Barron had been talked into putting Benni up for membership and then somehow finding himself agreeing to pay Benni's membership fees.

Next thing Barron noticed the vehicles of the three senior club administrators and the two professionals had switched from Ford, Chrysler and Japanese models to Chevrolet – all with the Pfeiffer Chevrolet stickers on them.

Checking the sales records Barron found all had been sold by Benni and all within the permitted discount range. The only abnormal expense listed was each purchaser received a handmade white calfskin golf bag with their name hand-tooled on to both sides of the bag and no other brand name showing.

Barron checked for the invoice for the five golf bags and raised his eyebrows in surprise – the price for each bag was high, but not over the moon, and Benni had got a 30% discount for a bulk order. This boy's got something, decided Barron, completely unaware that Benni had got Marlene covered and even his daughter Bess was unaware that she was about to latch on to her mother's occasional lover as well.

Bess was tight as a drum through having her regular seducer removed from her side by her stupid father and was looking around hornily for a replacement.

On Tuesday she went to her parent's home from the accountancy office where she worked for late lunch and a chat with her mom who was often home lunching at this time.

Bess heard grunting and the slapping of wet flesh coming from her parent's room. Peeping round the corner she gasped, seeing her nude mom lifting up and the new salesman directing streams of cum on to her mother's breasts. Bess sighed lustily, never having seen so much cum flying about as this.

Quickly making a sandwich and a container of coffee, she drove off to the lookout over the river to think how to report her finding to her father. Her pussy began twitching so her hand automatically went in to attend to its restlessness. But she pulled her hand away, thinking why should she to do that massaging – that audacious mother-fucker could do it for her.

That evening, leaving work in heavy rain in his distinctive pick-up, Benni was flagged down by a young woman standing on the roadside.

"Jump in – do you want to buy a pickup or are you just seeking shelter or a ride," he grinned.

"I want you to fuck me."

"Er, I think there's some mistake. I don't know you...wait a minute,I've seen you in Barron's office a few times. Are you his daughter?"

"Yes, my name's Bess. Hi Benni."

"You know my name?" he asked stupidly.

"I don't think there are an awful lot of Benni's around in this city, even fewer in this area and even fewer sitting in this vehicle with a peculiar spelling of Benni on it's plate. I would have thought you were a little brighter that this."

"Watch your mouth, baby; I don't take crap from anyone and being Barron's sexy little daughter won't save you."

"That's better – oh god, you called me sexy. Have you any idea how I feel?"

"If you gave me a feel I reckon I could answer that question intelligently," Benni grinned.

"Oooooh. Mr Smoothtalker, eh? No wonder my mom is letting you screw her."

The pick-up careered up on to the sidewalk. Benni hit the brakes, stopping less than a foot from plowing through a shop window.

"It's a bit late to go shopping, the lights are out and everyone's gone," giggled Bess.

Half an hour later she'd had a bath at Benni's small apartment and was bouncing up and down on his dick, sighing in happiness and getting very warm indeed. After cumming twice she pulled herself down his legs and invited him to flood himself all over her tits – "just like I saw you do to mom."

That disclosure earned her Benni's maximum ejaculation, and she screamed in delight.

"If we do this at least once a week, I'll promise not to tell dad what you are doing to mom and to me." In saying that she almost was sprayed again.

EIGHT

Although now living dangerously, life was going very well for Benni and he rather appreciated the loss of weight and he certainly felt fitter.

At golf one afternoon Barron and the two other players in their four were going on about the dictatorial president of their business and profession association, Balfour Washington.

"Vote him out if you don't like him."

"You don't know what you're talking about Benni, said the elderly Kevin Saunders. He's got that position for life, thanks to his cronies and all the members who own him favors. There's nothing that can be done."

"Talk like that, Kevin, and nothing will be done."

"That's being a little impertinent Benni," said Barron. "Kevin is a life member of this club."

"No offence intended, Kevin."

"None taken son, but listen. If you in your wildest dream were to think up something to get rid of Balfour, I'd give you a hundred bucks."

Benni noted the three of them were nodding, so smelt business brewing.

"Tell you what; you guys organize a consortium to rake up $5000 to be held by Kevin and payable to me if I get rid of this Balfour bastard for you – without physically harming him, of course."

"That sounds interesting," said Barron. "We'd need you to explain your plan and for us to set a deadline."

"Three months from the time we've raised the full five grand," said Chris.

"Nah, thirty days will be enough. And I don't wish to tell you how I do it, once I have a plan figured out."

"Right – agreed boys?" asked Kevin.

They agreed, but negotiations continued.

"I tell you what, Benni. I've got a hunch you'll do it," said Kevin. "If you do it, I'll add another five grand from my own pocket; that's how much I dislike Balfour; he's holding back the development of business in this city. The fucking mall is screwing many of our members."

"I'll match Kevin's generosity," smiled Barron.

Tight-fisted Chris jumped into his cart and urged them to resume playing golf, not wishing to risk five grand no matter how tiny were the chances of that happening.

Benni found himself disliking Balfour just hearing all about him. After Barron finished his résumé, Bennie asked about Balfour's women folk.

"His mother died nigh on ten years ago, his wife Francine is a pillar of society and both daughters are married and live overseas."

"And?"

Barron shrugged and said that's all, but flushed.

"And?"

"Bette Lucas, wife of the Chief of Police. But for fuck sake don't breathe to anyone I told you that."

"What's she like?"

"She's Bud's second wife, about forty, stuck up and one would think butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but incredibly Balfour Washington has got into her pants. Go near her, Benni, and you're in dangerous territory. Balfour is Fire Chief and a tough cookie from way back, ex-military."

"Don't worry; I have my evil ways that give me mole-like characteristics. Look, I need to take a time off to work on it."

"Why bother asking me? You slip away from time to time now. Who are you screwing?"

"I'm just using that time to distribute flowers to patients in hospital."

"Good one, Benni. I'd picked you as been tight-lipped when it counts. Sadly for you though, I think my money is safe."

"Like to bet on that?"

"Why not?"

"You double your five G's if I succeed; I pay you one grand if I fail."

"That's a bit-lopsided."

"Yeah, and so what you rake in annually compared with what I earn; I reckon I'm being very generous."

"You're got a smart mouth, Benni. All right, agreed."

NINE

Bette Lucas had two scarves in front of her on the shop counter and stood undecided. A male voice behind her said, "Please hold the green one up against your face."

She turned, to see a young man in his mid twenties in a smart suit smiling at her and nodding encouragingly. His eyes looked trustworthy and he looked intelligent.

She did what he'd asked. And then to another request held up the blue one.

"The blue one." He then began walking away.

"Just a minute young man."

Benni turned.

"Why the blue one?"

"It's you soul color."

"How on earth did you know that?"

"I didn't, but as soon as those blues came close to your skin they seemed to fuse into you. My granny taught me about colors, she was an artist."

"Well I never. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Yes, that bra you're wearing doesn't suit you."

Bette flared and was about to chew his ear, but hesitated; he'd been right about her soul color. She'd been dithering, thinking she's already had half a wardrobe of blues.

"That is an impertinent thing to say to a woman whom you do not know."

"I'll be off then and please accept my apology."

"Apology? Who's asking for an apology?"

"Well, I assumed..."

"Well you're assuming too much young man. Wait till I ask them to wrap up the blue scarf and I'll take you for coffee."

"Now who's assuming?"

"Oh dear, an incurable confrontationist, are we?"

"Not at all; 'we' may prefer a glass of wine."

"Is that the singular or proper plural usage of we?"

"Take your pick."

"Well, since I am curious to find out what wrong with my bra I think we shall find a bar. My name is Mrs Lucas."

Benni was delighted; she had in fact done much to spin his web herself.

"Good afternoon Mrs Lucas. My name is Benni."

"Well, well. You are clever, aren't you?"

"How's that, Mrs Lucas?"

"As if you didn't know. Here you are addressing me formally, leaving me to address you casually which means I'm at a disadvantage."

"I'm happy to leave it that way."

"I'm not, my name is Bette."

"Benni and Bette – we sound as if we come from the circus."

They both laughed and walked the short distance to a bar.

"Benni?"

"White wine, something expensive since you are paying?"

"My word, where did you escape from? The school of extortionists?"

"Or seducers."

Bette eyed him for almost ten seconds before signaling to the bartender.

Sipping their drinks Bette asked Benni to tell her what was wrong with her choice of bra.

"I'm no authority – you should go to a consultant. I just said that to provoke you."

"I don't believe you – give me your unprofessional opinion."

"The bra you are wearing is bunching your breasts together; today's trend is to have them well divided. You are, I'd guess, around forty. You should be presenting yourself more like a thirty-year-old than a fifty-year-old."

"Good gracious, you don't pull your punches, do you?"

"I suppose you now want to see my breasts unrestrained to give me a more detailed unprofessional consultancy."

"You said that, not me."

"You're wasting time and energy, though it is nice talking to a younger man. Why did you want sexual intercourse with me?"

"I don't, though I am open to offers."

"What do you want then?"

"Dirt on Balfour Washington."

"Christ," whispered Bette, looking around nervously. "Have you any idea what you are saying?"

"Yes."

"You knew who I was before we even spoke?"

"Yes."

"Are you a private detective?"

"No, a car salesman."

"Are you for real?"

During the next fifteen minutes Benni put Bette at ease, giving her his business card and telling her in detail about his Balfour project.

"My husband might kill me if he learns about my affair."

"I don't think so. Anyway, who's going to tell him? I'm certainly not, and I can't see you telling him."

"Right, so who told you?"

"Come on Bette, you know I can't tell you that. But I can tell you this; whether or not you help me Balfour will be hit hard, dishonored I would think. I'll work till I get the dirt on him – he looks a corruptible fellow to me."

Bette's eyes misted and she sighed deeply.

Benni's brain went into top gear and in seconds he had it all worked out.

"This is a guess: is your husband impotent?"

She nodded, eyes widening, but said he had could get it up artificially; his medical adviser would not prescribed chemical aids because of a possible heart defect.

"So you really need a lover?"

Bette nodded, her eyes misting again.

"Do you happen to know Barron Pfeiffer?"

"Yes, his family and my family were very close; he's a few years older than me. Why do you ask?"

"If I can dislodge Balfour, Barron could well be interested in you. I happen to have his ear."

Just as Benni hoped, Bette didn't reject that suggestion, but neither did she look enthusiastic.

"You've hit me during a period of weakness. I believe Balfour has taken on someone else, as he's now only seeing me twice a month, whereas until six weeks ago it was at least once a week. I was thinking of engaging a private detective."

"This way would be cleaner – get the bastard out of your life and replace him with a really great character."

"Who?"

"Barron Pfeiffer?"

"Hmmmm. He's never really noticed me in the past." " People change. He's well liked which as far as I am aware the same can't be said about Balfour. Can you tell me anything?"

Bette shifted on her bar stool nervously. Then she whispered: "He and the CEO of the association are two of a kind. It could be revealing to get an internal audit done.

"That's all I'm going to say. It's your shout – a very expensive wine please."

An hour later when they were parting company before walking from the bar, Benni said: "You have my card so give me a call if you want me to open the way for a liaison."

"I'll think about that. Would you have tried bedding me had I not been so loose-mouthed so soon?"

"Yes."

"Me and my big mouth," she smiled. "Perhaps I'll see you at the bra counter sometime?"

"Who knows? And thanks, if the hint of talk you've picked up in being in the company of Balfour proves to be spot on, it will be the best kind of dirt I could have found about him; business and profession people have an aversion against being financially fleeced."

"I'd like to kiss you goodbye, but they have surveillance cameras in places like this one. Goodbye Benni – I feel that I've been thoroughly seduce, verbally. Hmmmmm!"

A week later the president and chief executive of the business and professional association appeared in Court to answer charges relating to fraud – some $52,038 from general funds could not be accounted for and $72,858 was missing from the reserves account for special promotions.

While protesting his innocence, Balfour Washington resigned from the association, with immediate affect, providing a big 'pay day' for Benni, totaling $20,000 which Barron Pfeiffer and the elderly Kevin Saunders handed across with heartiest congratulations.