Regular Show Benson's Suit Mga Nobela at Kwento

They both chuckled, relief softening their faces. Behind us, lying forgotten on the floor, was Owen’s letter—his pathetic, meaningless rejection. Owen Benson was looking a little too sharp for someone who claimed he was only attending a party. His suit, his hair—everything was too polished. “So this right here is the final thing for me to do,” he said, clearing his throat like he was trying to calm himself. “Hmm. How’s your mate holding up with her pregnancy?” I asked. His face brightened immediately with pride.

“He doesn't answer, just blushes and looks away. I grabbed my plate and sat on the other side of the table. “Scrambled eggs, sausage, green salad with olive, toast, and espresso. Perfect. I started eating and waited for his answer, but I guess he's keeping it to himself. Maybe it's personal. I ate fast—- I want to watch something on TV. But I had no idea what was trending. I glanced at Ben again. He's blushing looking even cuter than usual. He tilts his face, when he sees me staring, then quickly looks down. “I want to watch an action or thriller movie.” I said taking a sip of the espresso. He looks at me, but not the way he usually does. His eyes are shielded. “There are some new trending o

"Without the Studio your brains will get all messed up. You will never wake up again ever." Maya looked over at Benson. "Do you trust me Benson?" she asked him. Benson looked around at all the screens that were falling then he looked at the man in the suit. Finally he looked at Maya. He. The blue color in his eyes went back to being a soft brown color like a regular persons eyes. "Always my doctor " he said to Maya. Maya took the needle and she pushed it into the glowing wires. The Quiet Room ZZZZZT-POP.

He worked hard to calm his racing heart, which felt like it might leap out of his chest. Silence fell between them. Bonita’s eyes scanned Benjamin’s outfit—a neatly pressed short-sleeve formal shirt and jeans. Typically, Benjamin dressed casually at home in T-shirts and shorts or training pants. His current attire suggested he was planning to meet someone important or attend a prearranged event.

“Usually, you’re the best drinker among us, even if you’re the first to pass out, but now you’re barely even drinking. You should go get laid later tonight, man.” Benson sneered and for the first time, he had stopped pretending to be Mr. Nice guy. He was obviously hurt and angered by what I just said, so he leaned forward in his seat. “You don’t have to worry about my dear cousin getting laid, guys.” He smiled again. “He changes women like clothes. But he wouldn’t have to go through that stress now that he has a surrogate in his house, doubling as his paid whore—“ I did not let him finish before I was leaning across the table, knocking his wine glass all over him and I grabbed his collar, ne

Women in skimpy clothes filed after one another into the room, making him think he was in some sort of adult movie. He was obviously the only one who was uncomfortable by the 'entertainment' since all the rest of the men were drinking and talking like nothing had happened. After all, they were used to it. Even Yaacob had a beautiful woman in each arm. Benson never could get used to it, so he stood up and said to Yaacob, "Mr. Getson, I'll be making a move first if there's nothing else." Hearing this, Yaacob put down his wine glass and looked up at him nonchalantly. "Why are you going back so early?"

I shifted my wallet in my jacket and followed Aaron down the hallway. Mr. Benson was the kind of man who would grin at a funeral. Tailored gray suit, slicked-back silver hair, and a smirk only someone who always got his way could manage. He was already sitting, legs crossed, confidence oozing into the room. "Aaron Warner," he drawled, not rising. "And this would be the infamous husband." His eyes moved over me like I was some kind of curious animal he wasn't sure he wanted to pet. "Mr. Benson," Aaron said evenly. "Thanks for dropping by."

Benson's commanding presence and a sleek glass dildo set the stage for an intense exploration of pleasure. As he watches, his partner's desire builds, leading to a powerful release that leaves them both wanting more. An unexpected twist reveals a strap-on, taking their journey to new heights. Benson stands before me, his tall frame casting a shadow over the dimly lit room. *************************** ~JESSICA POV~ Benson stands before me, his tall frame casting a shadow over the dimly lit room. His eyes, a piercing blue, hold a mixture of dominance and desire as he reaches into the bag he's been carrying.

At least… that’s what it needed to look like. My hand reached the handle— “Rose.” His voice came from behind me. Smooth. Unhurried. Like nothing in the world was out of place. I turned. Benson stood there. Composed. Relaxed. Exactly the way he always is. No tension. No confrontation. No sign of suspicion. Just… normal. Too normal. “I was nearby,” he said lightly, as if this was coincidence. “Thought I should stop by.” I let a small smile form.

I said and she tossed her head coldly. Upon walking out to the visitor’s room I saw none other than ROD BENSON; he was donning a well-tailored jacket, cowboy hat and chest-fitted sleeves. He must have been working out harder because those thick arms were earned form the gym. Frankly speaking, that spoilt kid of a billionaire was elegantly charming than he had been. I almost mistaken him for some country side rock star, but inwardly I fought back the urge to admire him excessively. “Hi Melissa,” he said gorgeously and shot an engaging smile and then snorted, “Can we have a seat?”