Benji

by D K Daniels

All of my stories have music included, think of it as a soundtrack to help bring you into the world I have created, to experience the vibe and mood. All great video games and movies are nothing without excellent sound design and a killer soundtrack. Plus, I love sharing new artists I come across. Here's a song a picked especially for this story. You can find it on Spotify and YouTube if you just google the song, but I'll include a link for quick access. It's recommended to listen to the song while reading.

Song: Infinitely Falling by Fly By Midnight

For those who might be interested in supporting me, you can grab yourself a copy of the eBook if you really - really liked the story. It would mean a great deal to me, and you'll receive a virtual hug from me.

Find links here: www.dk-daniels.com

Benji's smile lit up the room; quite frankly, that was all he had to do. The boy managed to extrude happiness. Everybody who knew him figured he was the forever grinning and laughing child, but Benji's smile was so much more now that the teenage years had arrived. Words didn't amount to the colossal scope, infatuation, or genuine delight I experienced when he walked in the door, his long blond locks bobbing shy of his shoulders, his worn skateboard tucked under his arm.

God, he didn't even have to try.

Attractiveness was just on his side; even the girls in our year grew shy just approaching him. Benji's mysterious presence always wooed and confused me, but despite this enigma, I came out of every interaction, with my heart ballooning and my stomach fluttering. The lure of promise dispirited the mundane, opening up its ripe possibilities. My arms rested against the countertop in my parent's kitchen.

"You're late," I muttered.

Benji grinned; he looked over his shoulder, shutting the door.

He peered back, looking somewhat coy.

"Wasn't my fault? Some girl started talking to me," Benji began.

This is it; girls have entered his hormonal brain. He's officially on the market.

Knowing this, all the fun times we had together, I feared any future adventures would end.

Benji was the type of boy who'd helplessly follow attention, and naturally, like most other teenagers our age, he'd be helpless to resist the popularity. Benji had big dreams, once denoting for an entire summer break before 7th grade that he wanted to be popular. He tried out for the baseball team but never got picked for the roster and instead chose to keep with his hobby of skateboarding. Benji was suited to the skater scene, not that I wouldn't have appreciated him clad in tight baseball apparel either, but I always pictured him as a bit of an emo with his skinny frame and rouge blond hair. It made sense to imagine Benji in this light since he was the broody type, his face placid, void of emotion, but when you cracked a morbid joke, he'd show his amusement.

"Who died?" I asked.

Benji tried his best, maintaining his cool demeanor, but with a crooked grin, his dimple showing, I knew I got him to crack.

I won this round.

Benji was eating out of the palm of my hand.

"Her dog, she was pretty sad actually, needed a shoulder to cry on…" Benji said.

I was inclined to believe him for a moment and felt awkward for making the off-topic joke. Except, when Benji flashed his devious smile and a wiggle of the eyebrows, I knew he was joking.

My body physically breathed out, my shoulders slumping, the lungs deflating also.

"Thought you were for real just there," I added.

Benji's smile dissipated, resulting in a cynical grin.

"Am I ever telling the truth?" Benji said.

I stood crooked at the counter, pondering his response.

"Maybe sometimes," I said.

Benji's grin faded.

"How do you distinguish between the bluffs?" Benji asked.

I shrugged.

"Dunno... Figured you'd just keep harping on if it were true," I countered.

Benji's grin returned, making a violent heat rise in my body, and all I could do in return was smile.

"So, you'd believe me if I said I got her number," Benji added.

The cynical expression returned, his beautiful smile fading away like a distant memory.

"Why would she give you her number?" I added.

Maybe the inflection in my voice was accusatory, but Benji didn't seem to notice.

"Cause she wants this," Benji rebuked.

His statement was followed with a lude gesture by grabbing hold of his junk and giving the package in his faded blue jeans a wiggle.

Blood immediately started flowing to my dick, raising the mother of all erections.

Why does he have to torment me like this?

I'm blushing, but the panic of hiding my boner shifts to fear when Benji approaches the counter.

"You alright," Benji asked.

He stopped shy of the counter and reached for an orange from the fruit bowl.

I shove my pelvis into the counter, hiding the fact that I have an erection. I plopped my elbows on the countertop, pretending to lean against the kitchen cupboards. Benji stands so close, his magnificent green eyes, soft skin begging for a sexual touch, and his chapped lips enticing enough to plant my mouth on. I wanted to kiss him badly, even without his permission, but I resisted the urge. Not only was it wrong to do such a thing, but I cared about his well-being. I didn't want to hurt him, and I'd happily beat up anybody who did. Benji was the perfect boy in my eyes, not quite an angel, but archangels could be nice too if you found the right qualities appealing.

He slowly peeled the orange, dropping the orange skins on the table. Popping a piece inside his mouth, he looked around.

"Where's your mom?" Benji asked.

His voice was rather hushed, almost like he wanted to let me in on a secret.

"Mom's gone outfit shopping for Aunt May's wedding," I added.

I gave Benji a quizzical glance, and he smirked.

"Wanna smoke weed?" Benji asked.

We hadn't done that in a while, and I liked the sound of it. Everything always got better; my inside felt warmer, the distance between us always closed, and no matter what Benji did, he always looked cute.

I can't believe I said the word, but it's true.

Benji is cute.

I flashed my eyes.

"You're carrying?" I asked.

Benji nodded.

"Wanna go outside?" Benji added.

I nodded.

We were outside in a rush, standing under the yuan tree hanging over the neighbor's fence, using the shade for secrecy and sun protection. It turned out to be a rather hot day, the temperature maxing at 90 degrees Fahrenheit. I had thrown on a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt and still managed to feel the heat. For Mayau, this type of weather wasn't uncommon, but for some bizarre reason, the day felt hotter. On the other hand, Benji didn't seem to mind the torrid heat. He wore his favorite blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with duotone sleeves.

We shared grins, and then Benji removed a small bag with some weed and one premade splif. He opened the baggy, dipped inside, removed the joint, handed the bag to me, and rummaged for his lighter. Benji placed the weed between his billowy lips and lifted the lighter. The small controlled flame singed the blunt, turning the bottom an amber orange. When he was done, Benji relinquished his ownership of the lighter, and he inhaled, making the smoke float away, and the ablaze glow turned red. The puckered lips, the closed eyes, he enjoyed his hit.

I wish my lips were on his lips, but that would never happen.

Benji held the smoke inside, his lungs expanding, allowing his body to take him to the high. He opened his eyes, then quietly passed the blunt to me. The cloud of smoke he left out came at me like a dust storm. I coughed naturally, and Benji giggled through the haze.

Sigh

He didn't need to do anything.

I dropped the bag of weed on the ground by our feet, then reached out, taking the blunt. Taking a long toke, I shut my eyes, allowing the magical effects to take me away. My mind calmed like a listless ship trapped inside a lagoon. My chest felt all warm and cozy, and with sleepy eyes, I let out a contented sigh.

"Good, right?" Benji asked.

I nodded.

"Where did you get it? I asked.

Benji grimaced.

"Can't tell you, top secret," Benji said.

I gave him my puppy eyes.

Benji waved his hand, telling me to stop.

"Gives us a reason to hang out; you'd prolly just smoke without me," Benji added.

His statement shocked me, perhaps even offended me a little.

"Never, you're like the best to get high with," I added.

Benji grinned at my complaint, and seeing him amused sent my stomach off with flutters. The strange butterfly feeling always managed to get stronger with each attack.

Benji did it to me and gave me the strangest feelings and emotions I didn't even know much about.

Benji waved his hand again.

"Bro, you're super chill, but the last few times, you are weirder than usual," Benji said.

His comment worried me.

What does he mean?

My shoulders slumped, and I felt myself shy away from any confrontation.

Benji took another hit, then leaned against the wall, apparently feeling good.

"Wah…. What do you mean?" I added.

The silence had become too much; the vibrant sounds around us had fizzled out. My ears focused on the tiniest of noises, making everything sound like we were underwater.

Benji thought about my question, his forehead wrinkled, and the conflict permeated his mind. He took a moment, then blushed, shaking his head, telling me he'd changed his mind about the conversation.

"Never mind, wanna go skate?" Benji asked.

He was already stubbing out the weed and plucking up his skateboard.

Less than a minute, it took us, exiting onto the back alley and running behind the house, and Benji wasted no time in laying his board and kicking off along the tarmac. I had retrieved my skateboard before leaving and focused on not falling into the large craters littered along the road. Benji dropped his right leg off the skateboard, forced his left backward, and propelled himself forward. I repeated the action, thrusting my leg out and pushing off the tarmac. The wind rushed through my hair, and the exhilarating thrill of chasing Benji prompted me to push harder. Benji always made me assert myself just that little bit more. I'd have been happy to sit on the couch at home, binge-watching Love Valley, even if it had that little pipsqueak Felix Castillo in it. That show had always ticked me off. Twenty or thirty teenaged celebrities all struck in a camp to find love… it's the worst thing ever. However, being out with Benji, I didn't seem to mind. He always took me on an adventure, way past the planets and into the deepest recess of my confusing brain. We turned onto the adjacent street, and I stayed hot on Benji's ass. Speaking of Benji's ass, I quite enjoyed looking at his butt. The faded blue jeans were baggy enough to make me imagine things, even if his butt looked flat.

I picture his firm, perfect ass, just two beautiful perky mounds…

WHAK!

Not having ample time to react, I smacked off Benji pretty hard. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the road, and while I went flying one way, Benji tumbled down into a pothole. Hitting the ground hurt, but I balled up, playing limp, shielding my head from the worst impact. On the other hand, Benji managed to stay on his feet momentarily, using his catlike reflexes. He sprang over his board, his right foot tangled and tripped. He panicked, realizing he was falling, and stomped down on his board, breaking it with a loud crack. Benjamin landed on his ass, facing toward me, and he let out a harsh groan. We both lay there momentarily, recollecting ourselves, waiting for the pain to dissipate. Peering through the narrow slits between my arms, Benji stared at me, smirking. He sat crossed-legged, apparently having recovered from the hurtful fall.

"I'm nimble as fuck," Benji rebuked.

He peered over his shoulder, assessing the damage.

"You still landed on your ass," I teased.

I grinned, liking the wisecrack.

Benji shifted his attention from the broken skateboard.

"Oh, you some kind of funny guy?" Benji said.

Benji turned his attention back to the discarded skateboard, reached out, retrieved a piece of tarnished wood, and held it up.

"Ain't using this again to pick up girls," Benji said.

I stared at him quizzically.

"How does a skateboard help you get girls?" I asked.

Just asking, hurt.

I never wanted to think about girls being with Benjamin.

As far as I was concerned, he belonged to me.

All girls needn't apply for his attention.

Benji's face lit up, and his secretive smile came out, allowing me to bask in his radiant beauty.

"Skaterboy 101, they just see the board. Most think skaters are bad boys, and all you gotta do is do one, maybe two tricks, and their pussy's are wet," Benji said.

Hearing him speak so crudely and vulgar surprised me but excited me with the notion of a cute boy with such a potty mouth.

Hearing it depressed and aroused me.

"You talk a lot of trash," I murmured.

Benji went silent, his face serious, and out of nowhere, he burst out laughing like a toddler.

His reaction warmed my heart, making me blush. I couldn't hold back; naturally, cute antics made me laugh, too, so I broke out, chuckling.

It might have looked odd, two boys lying on the ground, laughing so hard that it looked unnatural, but this is what I loved about Benji. He was free-spirited, and nobody got in the way of his happiness. Even if he looked miserable half the time, that was just a rouse to keep time wasters away. We stopped giggling like a pack of hyenas and peered across at one another. I locked onto his beautiful eyes, but something about how Benjamin stared at me awoke the gayness within me. His gaze lapped up my attention, not horrified by what he saw, and appreciated my company.

Usually, when two boys stare this long, they're labeled gay. Benji's stare bordered on intrusive, and all the possibilities I wanted to come true aided the blood flow in the nether regions.

Why did he have to be so perfect?

Why did he have to look like that, all cute, his tousled hair all shaggy, and wow.

I have a thing for skater boys, I guess.

It didn't take us long to get to our feet, and I plucked up my skateboard. Thankfully, the erection had vanished. Otherwise, that would have been an embarrassing feat.

Benji plucked up his board and tucked it under his arm. I beckoned for him to follow along, and we started back home. Since his skateboard broke, we didn't feel like skating, so he abandoned it in the alley.

I peered over at him, walking beside me. Just looking at him made me feel all woozy and tingly inside.

However, we managed to get home safely, not running into any adults.

The last thing we wanted was to be questioned by grown-ups about our apparent well being.

Weed is good, though.

It relaxes the soul.

When I shut the back gate, Benji was already rummaging in his pocket, pulling out his weed.

"Another before we go in?" Benji asked.

I shrugged, locking the gate.

I didn't really care.

My limit hadn't been reached, and I figured another smoke sesh couldn't hurt.

So, we smoke another joint, letting time slip away from us. My heart calmed down, the ground slipped from under me, and I floated.

Benji was probably feeling the same way.

However, despite him feeling somewhat high, I doubt he thought I was cute.

His lips are perfect.

I wonder how they'd feel to kiss.

His neck is the perfect place to put a hickey.

My thoughts were interrupted by the introduction of rain. It started light with the occasional droplet, but soon, it chucked it down, and we headed inside.

It didn't take us long to find something new, not that there was much to do inside. Except, we flopped down on the couch, fired up the Xbox, and battled it out, playing some race car game. The game's name didn't seem to matter; what did was how the two of us competed against one another. Normally, I'd hand his ass to him on a silver platter, but Benji didn't seem to be as useless as he used to be. Somehow, overnight, he became a whizz on such matters, and I found myself competing. Maintaining a distance with our scores was difficult, but by some miracle, I kept one point ahead.

"Last round?" I muttered.

Benji looked at me, determination in his eye.

I probably could have kept it for another hour, but I wanted to do something else. Benji gauged my reaction, obliviously wondering if I was growing tired.

"Okay, last game, if we draw, I want a re-match," Benji muttered.

I smirked.

"Alright, but suppose I win, what do I get?" I added.

It wasn't supposed to sound sensual, but the moment it left my mouth, it sounded dirty. Benji gave me a quizzical look, wondering what I was on about.

"What do you want?" Benji asked.

He took a gulp, and I couldn't help but look at his slender neck.

I wanted him, but I wouldn't come out and say that.

So, I decided on the cover story.

Benji had some old-school porn mags with some famous actresses he constantly talked about. So, I figured if I brought that up, it introduced the topic of sex into our discussions.

"I want… Your old hustler magazine," I said.

Benji balked.

"No way… That's like worth actual money these days," Benji rebuked.

I grinned.

"I know, so don't lose," I muttered.

Benji didn't take comfort in the statement and instead gave me his best game face.

"You're going down," Benji added.

"You're on," I said.

We rebooted our level and immediately hit the ground running. Tensions were high; clearly, Benji wanted to keep the magazine. It was difficult keeping up with him, but he beat me on the home stretch of our competition by a fluke chance. It all ended with high energy; Benji shot off the sofa, dropping the controller on the couch.

"I win… You absolute loser," Benji rebuked.

I continued to peer at the screen, the results showing predominately on the TV.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered.

Benji chuckled and began his victory dance. It looked more like a headless chicken dance, but still cute. The confidence did it; his cheeks were all red, his sweat had somewhat matted his hair, and it clung to his face.

"Re-Match!" Benji shouted.

I'm not going to lie; all that battling it out had been hard work.

You had to focus.

"Eh, let's take a break first," I said.

Benji's eyes went wild; he flopped beside me on the couch.

"You backing out… Cheater… Cheater!" Benji began to shout.

Maybe I was backing out.

"Cheater… Cheater," Benji continued.

He even gave me a playful shove, and naturally, I shoved back. It took him by surprise, but a devious smirk crossed his face.

"Oh, you're fucked now," Benji muttered.

I didn't have time to react. Instead, Benji attacked, launching off the sofa and on top of me. Wrestling never was our thing, but now I actively fought with Benji for control, wrestling it out on the couch. He tried pinning my hands above my head; I tried shoving him up against the backrest to gain leverage. All our friction ground our crotches together, and when our stamina depleted, Benji abruptly stopped but continued to lay on top, his apparent erection digging into my leg. However, he wasn't the only one in this predicament. My dick struggled against my jeans, pressed against Benji's stomach, wanting to break free of the zipper. In this situation, if the contact bothered Benji, he didn't let on. Instead, he placed an arm on either side of my head, then hoisted himself up like the upward dog yoga pose. His pelvis pressed into mine, highlighting that he did have an erection. Our eyes locked, his searching mine for some unwritten message. There was the intention in those lush green eyes, and when he leaned down, planting his moist lips on mine, my eyes went wide, and my dick jumped. His kiss was eager, unable to control his ambition, so I met his desire, equally lapping up the gratification. The make-out session grew heated, his smooching more aggressive. He led the kiss, and I surrendered to him, allowing him to take me on a wild emotional journey. My lips even found time to connect with his neck, where I suckled on his neck, making a love bite. Naturally, it didn't take us long to start humping one another; the cotton of my khakis pressing against his jeans only heightened the sexual energy. So, not wanting to end our new development with an orgasm brought on by dry humping, I initiated the next progressive step. I shoved him up, and he sat up, peering down at me. I reach down for his zipper, suggestively pulling it down. If he wanted to stop, he didn't resist. Instead, he reached in, unbuttoned his pants, and fished out his dick.

It was the first time I had ever seen it, not that it disappointed me. It was long and thin; his veins webbed the length of it, running from the shaft to the head.

My mouth salivated, the arrival of excess salvia prompting me to suck on it. So I sat up, took hold of his dick, and leaned in, engulfing his penis. Benji sat straight up and groaned, his hands going straight for his head, his fingers embedding themselves in his thick hair. All his weight rested on my lap, his ass pressing against the zipper, only engorging my erection.

I got into a steady rhythm, sucking his dick, occasionally jerking it to take a break when my jaw tired. What I seemed to be doing, Benji appreciated it. He sat like that, allowing me to access to slobber on his dick, and when he started to take an active approach, it turned me on more.

Benji took hold of my head, force-feeding me his cock.

"Take more…," Benji said.

His dick shoved past my gag reflex and into the back of my throat.

"Oh… Mhmmm… Fuck…. Hummmmm," Benji cooed.

His dick was growing sensitive, his satisfaction turning to guttural groans of lust. My love for dick was cut short when he thrust forward, aggravating my throat, and unfortunately I choked. Benji took his dick out, allowing me to cough and breathe.

He smirked.

It didn't take him long to reach out, guiding my head back to his groin.

"Shit… Oh… That feels good," Benji murmured.

I returned to sucking, providing him the best blow job I could manage. His moans grew louder the longer I edged him.

"I'm cumming," Benji uttered.

He ripped his dick from my mouth, and his jizz shot from the tip, coating my mouth and chin with cum. Naturally, my eyes jarred shut, preventing any stray squirts from blinding me, and I grimaced, knowing I'd be a mess.

Benji sat back, holding his dick, the contents leaking on my shirt.

He was breathing hard. This elicit activity had exhausted him.

"Wow…," Benji murmured.

I smirked.

"That was different," I said.

Benji smirked, flopping back against the backrest, sighing, allowing his good feeling to circulate his body.

We had never done anything like this before, navigating in uncertain territory.

Does this mean Benji is gay?

Could I ask him for more?

Will this be the start of a regular occurrence?

The questions were endless.

Benji seemed tired; the orgasm must have been a strong one to immobilize him. Yet, despite his deflating horniness, Benji looked at me with sultry eyes.

He smirked, then shifted his focus to his dick.

"Wanna get yours sucked?" Benji asked.

My eyes gravitated to his deflating member; I couldn't think of what to say.

Yes… Yes, please.

I want you to suck me.

So, I smirked.

Benji smirked back.

The End.

Iomfats.org

Benji

by D K Daniels

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