[Part one! ](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kw1p6l/bennie_and_the_jets_mf_caught_age_gap/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
**Valerie’s POV**
Ugh. I can’t *stand* college. Its such a sham. The professors hardly do their job, my classmates are daft, and the food here should be considered a biohazard. It’s only my second year, and I’ve wanted it to be over since my first *week.* This semester, however, I at least had something special to keep me going— Benjamin. After that fateful day at Marcy’s house, we swapped numbers and both agreed we didn’t want that occasion to be a one-and-done deal. The first night back in my dorm room, I waited pathetically by the phone, checking multiple times to be sure that my ringer was on. At 10:00 PM, I heard a ding, and let out a giddy squeal when I saw his name flash on the screen. It was a text message:
**Ben: I can’t stop thinking about you.**
I smiled like the Cheshire Cat as I typed out a response.
**Me: Ready for round 2? ;)**
We discussed plans, and tried to figure out a way to meet up without drawing suspicion from his wife or Marcy. I felt terribly guilty for sleeping with a married man (that also happened to be my best friend’s dad) but my ultimate lust for him outweighed the guilt a thousand times over. I couldn’t deny the chemistry between us— I’d never had such passionate sex before. It was the kind of sex that warranted an entire day spent in bed just to be close together and wrap our minds around the experience, but that obviously would never be possible in our case.
“I know that face.” Marcy entered my room from our conjoining bathroom. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth and her words were garbled around the brush. “You’re talking to a guy, aren’t you?”
“No…” I bit my lip to try to stop a guilty smile from forming.
She rolled her eyes. “Come *on,* Val— you know I can tell when you’re lying to me! Who is he?” Her voice was laced with a playful curiosity. “Oh my god, is it Jacob? It’s Jacob, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s Jacob.” I lied. I couldn’t imagine how Marcy would feel if she knew what her father and I had done.
Her eyes widened. “Noooo way! What’s he *saying* to you? Hold on— I’m gonna go spit. I have to know *every* detail!”
I started to sweat. I really hated lying to people, and it felt even worse to lie to my best friend. This was going to be rough.
**Benjamin’s POV**
I sat listlessly at my desk, sorting through stacks of paperwork that I had been behind on for weeks. I had to bite the bullet and get it all done before the end of the day— but even with two espressos in me, I hardly had the energy. Instead, I daydreamed about throwing all of my work in the garbage bin and telling my boss to go fuck himself— this thought brought me a small amount of joy.
How had I managed to end up with this life? Trapped in a stuffy cubicle, running on fumes, and straining to read small text under oppressive fluorescent lighting— only to go home to my unnecessarily large house and a wife that likely wished she could cash in on my life insurance check. One crypt to another— a cycle of banality. A man with promise turned into a sedated, walking corpse. How am I going to keep this all going?
My phone vibrated in my pocket then. I pulled it out and smiled. *Valerie.* I’d set her name in my phone as a picture of a fox. I opened her message, holding the phone close to my chest to hide the image that she’d sent from any prying eyes. It was a view of her legs. She was laying down, both knees propped up. She had on a pair of red panties, and her hand was resting right at the waistband of them. “Thinking of u.” It said.
“Take those off.” I typed back, practically foaming at the mouth. How pitiful it was that this young woman had become my purpose in life. I felt I had nothing if I didn’t have her. She was all of my excitement, all of my joy. She was the only thing good in this world. I’m not naive— I know she’ll get tired of talking to an old man someday, and I’ll have nothing once again.
My phone vibrated with a new picture. I pushed out of my chair and walked to the restroom, locking myself in a stall. I tapped my password in, and there on the screen was an image that made me strain against the zipper of my pants. She had taken off her panties and snapped a picture of her smooth pussy. How I wished I could jump through the screen and devour her. I could remember every detail of our time spent in the bathroom— the memory of her begging me to cum inside of her, and of her hot breath fanning my face had me under a vice grip. I unzipped my pants and started to stroke my cock, staring at the picture on my screen.
That night when I returned home from work, my wife was sat on the couch, watching one of her soap operas. She didn’t look up when I came in. Since she was in the living room, I had no choice but to go elsewhere. I sat out on the patio, scrolling back through weeks worth of messages from Valerie. Not all of them were dirty. We seemed to talk about anything and everything— movies, books, music, politics— sometimes I even forget I’m talking to a young person. I suppose I’m a little bit young at heart, and she’s a little bit old at heart.
**Valerie’s POV**
Sunday was a particularly bad day. It was one of those days where nothing goes right from the start. Not to mention, I had tons of homework and assigned reading to get though. I needed so badly to blow off steam, but Ben hadn’t replied to me since last night. A part of me was worried he’d rethought whatever weird thing we have between us, and was planning on letting me know it was over. I don’t think I could handle that today— or any other day.
The prospect of having to start something new with a guy my age danced sourly through my mind. I doubted I could ever find someone who thrilled me as much as Ben did. Now that I’ve gotten a taste for true passion, how could I ever go back to sleeping with twenty year old boys? These are the same boys who ignore my clit and couldn’t care less if I lay there like a starfish or not. The same boys who waste hours bragging about how much weight they can lift in the gym, and on forming Snapchat streaks, and playing first person shooters, and thinking up “clever” tweets. The same boys who have no idea who Hemingway or Bob Dylan are, but know every word to some unintelligible song by Lil Pump, or Juice WRLD, or whatever the fuck. I hated them. I had no desire to deal with average, meaningless sex from average, meaningless boys ever again.
I covered myself up with my blanket, staring at my phone as though I could telepathically will a message appear on the screen.
**Benjamin’s POV**
“… all high and mighty, thinking you’re the only person who suffers in this world! Do you ever stop to think about how *I* feel? No.” My wife shook her head. “You don’t. You’re nothing but a piece of shit, you know that? A worthless, no good piece of shit.”
My wife was parading in front of the couch as if she were giving a speech up on a dais. I’d been listening to her screed for the better part of the afternoon.
“And all you do is stick your head in a fucking book, or sit on your phone! How about fixing the drawer like I’ve asked *a million* times? How about *trying* to be a *man,* Ben? How about that?”
“Linda,” I sighed, “*please.*”
“It’s always *Linda please* with you!” She snapped. “I could’ve been a dancer if I hadn’t wasted my life married to *you.* I could’ve been *happy.*”
I thought back to the better times in our relationship. I don’t know when or how it happened, but at some point in time my wife started to truly hate me. “Then why don’t you leave and be happy?” I snapped back.
“It’s too *late.*” she seethed. “All of my better years went to raising *your* child and wiping *your* ass.”
My blood was boiling. I couldn’t take any more of the misery. Every goddamned Sunday. It’s my *one* day off, and I have to return to the office tomorrow morning. Then I’ll work for a week, and endure my wife’s bitter silence. I have a suspicion that she thinks up everything she’s unhappy about just to unleash it all on the one day I have to relax. There can’t be a reprieve from awfulness for even a *day.* It’s been like this every goddamned Sunday for years. It’s always the same. I zoned her out, and only caught snippets of what she was screaming about:
“… sitting there with that look on your face … the reason I drink … can’t even mow the lawn … terrible marriage … fucking asshole … should have married Jack Barnsby instead!”
This last point perked me up. I nodded manically. “Yeah, and you know what Jack ended up doing?” I asked. She stood there blinking at me. “Wrapping his car around a pole!”
Linda shook with rage— she must’ve really liked that Barnsby fellow. “Get OUT of my house!”
“It’s *my* goddamned house!”
“Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” She lunged forward, swatting at my chest. I held onto her wrists to stop her, which led her to kick at my shins. “Get out!” She screamed over and over. I pulled her onto the couch beside me and sprang up and away. She scrambled to come after me.
“Fine! I’m leaving!” I hollered.
“Fuck you, asshole! You pushed me!” She rubbed at her wrists as if I’d done serious damage to her.
I ignored her as I stormed into the bedroom and grabbed a duffel bag from the top shelf of our closet. Then I angrily shoved clothing and other items into it, not even thinking much about what I needed to bring with me, or where in the hell I was going. Linda was still downstairs, yelling about god know’s what. She had hated me for years now, and I think I was finally at the point where I hated her too. I was so angry, so filled with hate that I had the urge to destroy the house— I wanted to punch holes in the walls and break everything in sight. I didn’t do this of course, but god would it have felt *good.*
After raiding the bathroom, I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder. I figured I could always stop at the store if I forgot to pack something. Items were replaceable— a broken soul, unfortunately, is not. Linda harangued me all the way to the front door. She flipped me the bird as I got into my car. I peeled out of our driveway and off down the road, gripping the wheel and letting out one long scream for cathartic reasons. I drove around for a while, combing over my options. I decided I’d better get a hotel room for the night and cool down enough to think rationally about what the future had in store for me.
I got on the highway, and connected my phone to Bluetooth. It told me I had one missed message from Valerie. I had meant to answer her earlier before I got trapped in that argument. I pressed the button to call her. After several rings, the sound of her voice played through the car’s speakers. It soothed me like a healing balm.
**Valerie’s POV**
I sat up in bed, surprised by my own ringtone. Ben had never called me before— he’s only ever texted. I quickly closed and locked the door to Marcy and I’s conjoining bathroom so she wouldn’t walk in while I talked to her dad.
“Hello?” I said, sitting down at my desk. It was littered with overpriced textbooks and open notebooks, the sight of which reminded me of all of the work I’d been procrastinating.
“Hi Valerie.” His deep voice always made my heart race—especially when he says my name.
I crossed my legs and leaned back in the chair. “What are you up to?”
“I’m driving right now.” As he said that, I could hear the background noise of his car. “I was wondering if you were busy today.”
I eyed my schoolwork, wishing it would just disappear. “I’m free today. Why?”
“I’m going to get a hotel room up by your school for the night. I’d really like for you to join me.”
“Won’t your wife find that suspicious?” I asked cautiously. I hated thinking about Ben’s wife. I knew that I was the “other woman”, but for some juvenile reason, I felt like *she* was.
“She kicked me out.” He explained.
“Oh,” I frowned, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. Listen, I’ve got to go now, but will you come? I’ve really been missing you, Valerie.”
He was going to kill me with those words. I grinned and hugged my arms around myself. “Of course, which hotel is it?”
“I’ll let you know once I figure it out.” He said. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
“I can’t wait either.” I told him.
After we’d hung up, I set off to get ready in the bathroom. I took a shower, dried and curled my hair, and was working on my makeup when Marcy came strolling into her room, holding a takeout bag in her hand. “Oooh, what are you getting all dolled up for?” Marcy arched a brow. “Are you going to see *Jacob?*?
“I am.” I lied. Marcy probably had no idea her mother had kicked her father out today. The fact filled my stomach with a nauseous guilt. She sat down on her twin bed, where she still had a perfect view of me, as she dug into a burger and French fries.
“Are you two gonna do the deed?” She asked.
“Maybe, I’m not sure yet.” I sweated.
“If you guys do it, you better come back to me with a full report.” She teased. “I want to know everything.”
By the time I’d finished getting ready, Ben had texted me the name of a hotel that was only a few minutes from my college’s campus. I got in my car, and was filled with eagerness as I drove to him. I wanted nothing more than to have his lips and hands all over me, erasing this terrible day from my mind. I walked into the lobby of the hotel, and took the elevator to the fourth floor, where I found his room at the end of the hall.
He opened the door, and smiled down at me with warm eyes. I stood there for a moment, dazed by the sight of him. It was hard for me to put together that it was truly *him* I’d been talking to for weeks. Whatever we had between us had developed a lot during those conversations. My feelings for him had grown far more wholesome— though the realization of this made the feeling of lust far more urgent.
“Hi.” I said, soft and shy.
He ran his hands over mine, lightly guiding me into his hotel room. “You’re *so* beautiful, you know that?” He told me, turning my stomach into a mess of butterflies. After I closed the door, he pulled me into an embrace. “I called into work to take tomorrow as a personal day.” He said. “Will you spend the night with me?”
I instantly agreed. I’d never slept in the same bed as a man before, and the thought of sleeping next to Ben sounded heavenly.
**Benjamin’s POV**
Just being close to her made it all alright. My anger washed away the moment I laid eyes on her pretty face. Her lips tasted like peppermint, and her skin smelled of vanilla— I wanted to curl up in that smell and sleep for days. I kissed her by the door, finally relieving myself from the gnawing craving of her mouth. Her little hands laced around the back of my neck and the front of her body pressed against mine. I felt happy again. If I could live forever in that moment, I would.
We sat on the bed and talked for a while. She stretched out on her stomach, swinging her bare feet through the air. “You can tell me, y’know.” She said. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t really want to revisit that right now.” I told her. She’d just asked about what had happened between my wife and I. I couldn’t bring myself to put it all into words. I almost felt as though if I started to talk about my own terrible life, some of it would leech out into the room and ruin our night. It was like going into the bathroom and chanting Bloody Mary— If I didn’t say anything, these horrible things didn’t have to be real.
Valerie and I’s hotel room felt like a portal to a different, happier world. One where I could laugh, and smile, and feel like I’m worth a damn. It wasn’t just sex I craved from her, it was the way she made me feel— like I was young, and loved again. I can’t remember the last time I felt both of those things. It must’ve been when I’d first met Linda.
The look of Valerie lying on the crisp, white linen soon made me want to kiss her again, so I did just that. She had rolled onto her back, giving me access to her mouth. I hovered over her, placing my hands on the bed by either side of her head. Her tongue made it’s way to mine, the tip of it soft and probing. She pushed her hips up into my groin, letting out a barely audible sigh. The air leaving her nose tickled my skin.
I kissed her jaw, and her neck, lingering for a moment to enjoy that sweet vanilla scent. Then I moved lower, kissing at the skin just above the neckline of her dress. I slid a hand under the hem of it. My fingers skimmed over the the top of her panties, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric. Her breathing had picked up, and she watched me with curious, kittenish eyes. “I want to taste you.” I told her. She bit at her lower lip, and parted her legs for me.
I moved between her legs and lifted up the bottom of her dress, keeping my eyes on hers while I kissed the buttery skin of her inner thighs. Then I planted a few well placed pecks over her panties. They were black, tiny, and dampened. The warmth and wetness of her made me want to tear them off with my teeth. I pulled them down gently until they hung around her feet. She then bent her knees and cast each leg to the side, giving me an eyeful of her cute pink pussy. God, I loved that part of her. It just fit her so *well.* It was innocent and feminine like a small blooming rose.
I dipped down and pecked at the skin all around her pussy, watching her chest roll with breaths. Her dress was bundled up around her stomach, and she flattened the fabric out with a hand so she could see my face. I ran my tongue gently over her labia, and used my lips to pull at them a little. Then I worked my way up to her clitoris. The breath whooshed from her in a long, wanton sigh when I flattened my tongue against it. I rolled it beneath my tongue, over and over while I watched her to judge her reaction. I went a little faster, and she seemed to like that better. She reached down and threaded her fingers through my hair, knitting her brows and sighing- “Oh, *Ben.*”
I slid my hand under my chin, and pushed a finger inside of her. She *mmm’d* in approval. Her pussy was glossy, and tight, and utterly fuckable. I couldn’t wait to fuck her. My cock was trapped between me and the mattress, begging for release. The sounds of her moans and whines filled my ears. I was so glad we could be in a place where she could *really* make some noise— it was like music to my ears. It felt great knowing that those noises were for what *I* was doing to her, and that this beautiful girl really wanted me.
**Valerie’s POV**
Ben’s mouth was hot and silky smooth as it encapsulated my clit. He sucked on it gently, and I was able to produce enough words to let him know that I liked the suction the best. He continued on, adding another finger in. I squeezed my muscles around them as they moved in and out, hitting a *very* sweet spot inside of me.
I pulled at the roots of his hair and swept my palm over his forehead. He was going to make me cum— no one has ever been able to do that before. I fell under the magic of his tongue, and soon enough felt the beginning waves of an orgasm sweep over me. He seemed to sense this. He hooked one arm around my thigh, as though to hold me in place, and kept a steady pace— his dark eyes longing, his mouth servicing my clit, and his fingers bringing pleasure to my g-spot. “Oh, *Ben,*” I whined helplessly, losing control of my senses. I gasped and trembled as I came against his mouth. He didn’t stop for a second until I went limp on the blanket.
I was still in a daze when he climbed over me, undoing the front of his pants with the speed of a hungry man. He pulled my dress up past my breasts and sucked breathlessly at my nipples, letting out a low, humming growl. It was all so much to take. So much stimulation, yet I still wanted *more.* I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted us to dissolve and flow into each other— though even if we were fused as one, it would never be enough. I’d still want more. I sought out his dick with my hand, and guided him into me. It slid in with little effort, gliding through my own slickness until his hips met with my parted thighs. My stomach dropped with the pleasure of being full of him. He wasted no time in driving himself into me. Over, and over, and over, he fucked me while he grunted and I gasped out loud. He pushed his forehead against mine, and we looked each other in the eye— our sweat mingling, and our eyes hooded with overwrought desire.
I raked my nails over the bedspread as he increased his speed and fucked me with a pace that had me close to screaming. The headboard knocked against the wall, and the bed frame creaked beneath us. His hand snuck under me and gripped at my ass— *hard.* The mix of pleasure and pain was incredible. “Spank me,” I moaned, pushing him away so I could turn over. I lowered my shoulders, arched my back, and pointed my ass high in the air. He expertly pushed back inside, and began to fuck me from behind. He slapped my bottom, leaving a lingering sting on my skin. “Harder,” I begged him. He answered with more force. I’d never done this before, and I liked it *a lot.*
“You like this? You *bad* girl.” He growled, spanking me again. I loved when he called me that. “God-” he breathed, wrapping his hands onto my thighs to propel me back into him. “I’m gonna cum in your tight little pussy.”
“Do it.” I urged him, desperation lacing both words. He went faster. I yelped at a final spank that I wasn’t anticipating, right as he filled me up. A delicious warmth pulsed through me, deep inside. How I *loved* that feeling. He then slumped forward onto my body, trying to catch his breath. I rolled to lay on my back, and he collapsed down beside me. The both of us were breathing heavily and soaked with sweat. I felt his cum leaking from me, dripping down onto my butt cheeks.
“Holy shit.” He cursed. I looked at him, my eyes still wide from the experience. Then we both laughed like delirious loons. The laugh never quite finished though, as it was cut off with a kiss.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kxis5c/i_need_you_tonight_bennie_and_the_jets_part_twomf
Amazing again! They are so hot together, I would love to have a man like him. I hope you write a third part!