Tommy's Neighbourhood Ch. 06

Tommy pulled on a pair of pants suitable for eating at the steakhouse. He realised that his cock was hard. He wondered how long it had been like that, hoping that he hadn't embarrassed himself in front of his Mum.

After buttoning his shirt, he checked himself in the mirror making sure he looked ok.

"Okay, bye Heather," he whispered.

"Thanks Tommy, bye," she whispered back.

* * *

About ten minutes after they'd left, Heather was still trying to work out why Tommy had called her Heather. He'd never called her that before, and she'd never told him to. She had always been Mrs Hancock to him until she'd become 'Mistress'. Calling her Heather must have meant something, and she really wasn't sure what it was.

Well, she thought, surely it's safe to leave now. She left his closet and made her way to the front door.

Just as she was about to unlock it and leave, she caught her reflection briefly. The sight made her take a good look at her reflection. She was a mess. What was wrong with her? She'd buttoned her blouse all wrong, misaligning the buttons and her skirt had obviously been pulled up and shifted about before she'd made a terrible attempt at straightening it.

She thought of Tommy's instructions to leave out the back and climb over the fence. She'd never climbed over a fence in her life. It was undignified.

Nevertheless, after seeing her appearance she knew she couldn't risk leaving out the front and risking being seen by someone leaving in this state.

She locked the door behind her and assessed the fence. It was about head high, high enough that she'd need to stand on tip toes to see over it. There were a couple of footholds that she could probably use to climb up and over it. She pulled her skirt up again a bit to allow herself freer leg movement.

The sudden breeze brought the stark realisation that she was sans-panties. She must have left them in Tommy's room. In the rush to hide she'd forgotten all about them. She didn't even know where they were, as they hadn't been obvious in Tommy's room before she left it.

She thought about going back to search for them, but she'd locked the door and the key she had for emergencies was still in her house. She'd have to get home before she could come back for her panties.

Time to climb the fence then.

What followed were several comical attempts of a grown woman unused to awkward physical activity trying to climb a fence in a short skirt. Funniest home videos or even YouTube would have loved it.

Eventually Heather found herself sitting on her arse, having fallen off the fence once she'd cleared the top. Her clothes were dirty, and she'd torn her blouse, but she'd done it. She was proud.

Why was she proud though, she wondered? She should have given up a long time ago and walked out the front to her own front door long ago, but she'd persisted in her attempts. She didn't really care what people thought of her, and she'd have been able to come up with a decent excuse for looking as she did, maybe simply helping her dear friend Amy move some things from the attic or something? Yet she'd persisted until she'd succeeded in climbing the fence.

Very unusual.

It would still be a while before Heather worked out what was happening to her. She completely forgot about her panties once she'd stripped off and gotten into her shower.

* * *

Tommy entered the library with the express goal of finding a few books that would help him understand a little more about his car. Something on old, carburettor-based combustion engines, maybe something on muscle cars, or he might even find something specific on his Charger.

He'd enjoyed a nice lunch with his Mum, and despite her protests, he'd paid for their lunch, then he'd dropped her off at home. She'd given him another lecture on spending his money, and he knew she was right, but he also delighted in how much she had obviously enjoyed the meal.

Not a lot of kids his age were really aware of how libraries worked as they'd been brought up with computers and the internet. Tommy had as well of course, but when you have a lot less disposable income, you find that the library becomes an extremely important resource. Besides, as much as he could have probably found everything he wanted on the internet, he found it nice to be able to just sit down in a comfortable chair and read a real book. If he found anything in the books he needed to research a bit further, he could always go to the internet later.

Tommy loved libraries, but it had been a few years since he'd been to the public library, as the school library was actually one of the better ones in the state.

He ran a quick search on one of the terminals and then wandered into the stacks to find the books he was looking for.

He was still a few rows away from his destination when he spotted her, and the sight of her caused him to slow down considerably.

How in the world had he forgotten Miss Tait? She'd been working at the library for as long as he could remember. She'd started as a simple librarian, but a couple of years ago she'd been promoted to Head Librarian. He'd read about it in the local paper.

He could remember being a little infatuated with her when he was little, sort of like a surrogate mother figure, just the mother at the library, rather than the one at home.

She had a cart beside her stacked with books to be returned to the shelves.

Speaking of stacked, he'd never realised before just how stacked Miss Tait was. She was bending down, strangely with her legs straight, bent way over at the waist, putting a book back on the bottom shelf. Tommy wondered why she'd do it that way. It caused her clearly sizable rump to stick out alluringly, and Tommy imagined sidling up behind her to rub up against it.

She was wearing some kind of grey, cotton skirt that hung down below her knees, almost to her ankles. It looked tight across her bum, yet was quite billowy and loose around her legs. Her blouse was more like a shirt, in a pale blue. It was tucked in around the waist and quite obviously there was a lot more excess material around the waist than there was around the bust. Now that he thought about her though, he could remember she actually was very busty, it just hadn't mattered much that some women had big tits until a while back.

He slowly passed the aisle, taking his time checking her out, before continuing on.

The library had several books that might have been useful. He went through a bunch and picked three that were general enough to begin his education.

He'd been about 15 minutes in the aisle browsing, before heading to the checkout counter. He pulled his library card from his pocket, having dug it out of his desk yesterday.

"Well if it isn't Thomas Johnson, I haven't seen you in years," Miss Tait said, Tommy instantly recognising her voice.

Her shirt was buttoned high, with no cleavage on display, though her blouse was clearly hiding big, jutting breasts. It was very easy to see that she was a busty lady though. He guessed that she was probably in her thirties, late thirties. She had perfectly straight brunette hair, shining in the fluorescent lights overhead. Her eyes were as green as country meadows. Her lips were thick, currently split in a light smile, with subtle red lipstick.

"Hi Miss Tait, how are you?" Tommy asked.

"I'm well, Thomas, very well. How about yourself, what have you been getting up to?" she asked, with a wide, genuine smile.

"Good. Not much, I graduate soon and my grades are still pretty good. Oh," he realised, putting his books on the counter to be processed, "and I have a car now."

She laughed, "Ha ha ha, and of course you, as always, decided you wanted to know more about it." She took the books and looked through them. "An older car?" she asked.

Tommy smiled lopsidedly, "Yeah, my Grandpa left it to me, but I only just found out and got my licence. I haven't been driving it long."

"May I ask what it is? Judging from these books I'm guessing it's something very exciting."

"It's a Dodge Charger. I'm not certain exactly what year it is, because I know my Grandpa switched a lot of parts between some of the models, but I think it's mostly a 1970 model. It's in great shape though."

"That sounds fantastic Thomas. But you should be very careful because a car that old doesn't have all the modern features like crumple zones and airbags, so you should drive very safely."

"Don't worry, my Mum reminds me every time I leave the house," he replied. He did think of the near miss with Brian in the car though. He had been extra careful since then.

"Alright then, let's get these processed and get you out the door."

She took his card and started scanning the books.

"Oh, do you have an email address? We have an automated system now with due date reminders but we don't have an email address recorded for you."

Tommy gave his email address, tommy.johnson19@hotmail.com

"I hear you were made Head Librarian?" Tommy asked.

"Yes, about 18 months ago when Hugo retired," she replied.

"Congratulations, you definitely deserved it. I remember how you used to look after me."

She smiled at him briefly before going back to the computer, "Thank you Thomas, I remember as well."

As she processed the books, a lady came to wait behind Tommy.

"All done, now you drive safely," she told him, before placing his books past the scanner, for his collection.

"Thanks Miss Tait," he said, collected his books and left.

* * *

That evening, Tommy had been flipping through the books he'd borrowed from the library for a couple of hours when he had a thought.

He hopped off the bed and reached under. Sure enough, Mrs Hancock's panties were right where he'd left them.

Excitedly, he went to his special hiding place and pulled out what he was starting to think of as his trophy stash.

Carefully, reverently, he laid them out. He knew it was dirty and pervy, a bit wrong, but he hadn't set out to collect them, it'd just happened. He was hooked now though, and he thought of them as his. He'd read about fetishes, and he wondered if this was his.

First was a pink, lace hipster thong with a wide waistband. They weren't the first pair he'd taken possession of, but they were from the first woman who'd shown him anything about sex, Vicki Cherry, his best friend's Mum.

Second was a white, cotton, T-String backed thong. They were the second pair in his collection, and he'd actually taken them by accident. They also belonged originally to the second woman to show any interest in him sexually, his teacher, Miss Brenda Bush. They were the only pair that he'd intended to return, but now he wasn't so sure that he wanted to.

Third was an outrageous pair of blue satin panties, low cut in front, designed to hug only the very lips of the wearer's pussy and leave everything else exposed, while the back was a severe V-string, causing the waistband as it was to basically start out of sight between the wearer's arse cheeks. They'd looked absolutely fantastic on his principal, Ms Stern, before he'd been interrupted with her. They were actually his earliest acquisition, and he'd taken them to hide them from anyone else who may have ended up in her office after she'd left.

He left a space as he laid out the panties.

Last in line he put a lacy red thong, which he'd first seen as an alluring whale tail, shown off to him raunchily by Sarah, the secretary at a legal firm he was dealing with. She'd forced them into his hand and sped off before he even knew what she'd given him, making a crack about the fate of the world, which he just knew, was more of her fantasy hoopla.

In the space he left he put down the black lace thong he'd just collected. The gusset was one piece of lace, thinning as it reached the part right between the wearer's legs, before attaching to the string waistband. They were elegant, yet sexy, and suited Mrs Hancock perfectly.

His trophies, laid out in the order in which he'd first fucked their wearers. He felt his cock hardening as he looked over them, sensual, outrageously sexy. As he looked at each pair he imagined their previous owners, standing in front of him wearing only those panties.

Two were given to him, two were taken with some degree of purpose, and the last were an accident.

Ms Stern probably didn't even know he had them, but he doubted if she would care. Maybe he would tell her someday, but only once she'd gone into her wanton, 'cumslut' mode, not her stern principal mode.

Miss Bush deserved to know he had them. He wanted to keep them, but if she really wanted them back, he'd give them to her. Maybe he could ask for a pair from her to replace them, tell her they were a souvenir? It sounded bad in his head though. Something to remember her by wasn't right either. Maybe a 'keepsake', that seemed like the best word to use.

He had no intention of returning Mrs Hancock's panties though. She didn't deserve them. She made him play her stupid submissive game, and Tommy didn't really like playing. He did like 'playing' with her, but he wanted to play her game his way, he realised. No, she wouldn't be seeing these panties ever again.

After a few minutes he put them back in the drawer where he was hiding them. He'd be horrified if his mother ever found them.

He had a raging boner after looking at his trophies. That's what made this a fetish, he thought to himself.

He pulled out one of his carefully guarded porn magazines, and one of his old, no longer used thick socks. He slid his cock inside the thick cotton and started stroking, looking at the women on the pages, but also thinking about the wild way Vicki screwed him, the illicit, dangerous episodes he'd had with Brenda, the totally wanton, filthy way Ms Stern fucked and sucked, Sarah's fantastic fantasies and even the way Mrs Hancock used him. It didn't take long before he was dumping his goo out the end of his prick, letting it pool in the hanging tip of the sock. He stood, panting for a moment, with a wry grin on his face, wondering what opportunity would come along next.

He took the sock to the laundry and up-ended it in the sink, before rinsing it and adding it to the laundry hamper.

* * *

Tommy made his way excitedly towards the principal's office, passing students preparing to go home for the day in the halls.

Preparations were underway now for the graduation ceremony, with posters up all over school. There were various groups and committees going around school asking people questions about memories, thoughts, achievements, all sorts of stuff anyone might consider important.

Tommy wasn't really interested in extracurricular activities though, never had been. Most important to him was the curricular activities and making sure he did his utmost best at those.

One of the admin staff had delivered a note to the teacher in Maths, and they'd then passed it on to him.

'Thomas Johnson required for attendance at meeting of Graduation Integration committee'

He wasn't on any kind of committee, and what the hell was Graduation Integration anyway?

Time: 3:18PM

Great, ten minutes after school finished. Well at least he wouldn't miss any class time, but he really didn't want to hang around after school either.

Location: Principal's Office

The principal's office, Tommy thought, remembering the last couple of times he'd gone to the principal's office with a grin. Was this all just a rouse? Was Ms Stern simply coming up with more elaborate schemes to get him into her office? Graduation Integration sounded even more suspect now that he knew where it was. It didn't really say anything about its purpose, but it was a fancy enough name that no-one would question it.

If he'd known that this opportunity was going to arise, he might have abstained a bit to build up a bit of cum for Ms Stern, knowing how much she seemed to enjoy it.

When he got there, her secretary had already left, leaving no guard for the door. There was a note attached to the door though, 'Graduation Integration committee meeting, DO NOT DISTURB'. He wasn't sure if such a note would have stopped their last session being cut short, but it certainly couldn't hurt.

He figured the note didn't apply to him, after all he had been summoned, but there was of course the very real possibility that this was a real committee, so he cautiously tapped on the door.

No answer.

Carefully he tried the door knob and found it unlocked.

Slowly he opened the door and noted, again, that the room was empty. He briefly wondered if he'd ever come into this office and find Ms Stern working at her desk.

"Hello?" he called out.

"Mr Johnson?" he heard, from behind her screen.

"Yes," he answered.

"Close the door and lock it," she said with an air of authority.

He was right, he thought with a smile. So far this was going almost to the script of their last encounter. He locked the door as she'd told him to.

He figured he'd wait for her to change gear before becoming too strict with her, though he found he was eager now to impose his desires on her. That lasted up until he saw her.

She was the epitome of a big, beautiful woman, or BBW. Obviously today was a white day for Ms Stern. She wore wedge-heeled sandals in white. Her feet and legs were encased in sheer, white, hold-up stockings. The lacy, boyshort panties she wore were uncharacteristically modest. Her belly had a slight pouch to it, but was offset by her wide hips and narrow waist. Ms Stern's main attraction was her prodigious bust line, and today she displayed her bountiful bosoms in a shelf bra. Her nipples stood hardened, straining for attention, the bra failing to hide them or her areole at all. Her hair hung loose, as she often let it when getting together with Tommy. He again admired her honey-blonde, wavy hair. Her green eyes looked intently at Tommy, her excitement clear.

Tommy's cock thickened down his trouser leg, where he had it positioned, its outline becoming clear. The sight of her big, fucking huge, heavy tits had blood racing into his shaft, preparing it for a good pounding on her pussy.

He watched as she glanced down at his crotch. He decided to go for it now, he couldn't wait.

He stood, causing himself some discomfort as his rod was forced to angle downwards against its wishes.

"You want my cock?" he asked, with some force.

He could see indecision on her face. He was taking a risk becoming assertive before she became submissive, but he had a strong suspicion that it would work brilliantly.

Virginia Stern groaned inwardly. Again she'd arranged a situation where she could dip her toes into her fetish. She'd analysed herself time and time again, but had never really come up with an answer for where her addiction to men's semen came from.

For as long as she'd been sexually aware, she'd been fascinated with it, which was a good 33 years, since she'd first started playing with her cute little muff at the age of 15. It hadn't been long before she'd developed oral skills and was coaxing that delicious fluid from boy, after boy, after boy. She'd finished high school with a terrible reputation and had honestly been a bit of a mess.

She'd realised she had a problem, but college hadn't been much better. There was an Asian word, Japanese she thought, bukkake, which perfectly described her fetish, but back then it wasn't common, and she had no idea others were as wanton as her when it came to men's juices. Finally, when she risked failing classes due to spending every moment she could being showered in cum rather than studying, she'd managed to gain some control.

She kept it under control until she wound up the headmistress at a boy's boarding school. There she'd developed a penchant for sneaking into the laundry at all sorts of strange hours. By then she'd developed a bloodhound's nose for boy baby-batter, and she was sure that half the semen that should have been washed out in the laundry, had instead been sucked out by her. They were fond memories for her, as teenage boys tended to spurt their gunk frequently and indiscriminately. Then she'd been caught by the cleaning lady coming in extremely early. Her addiction had beaten her again, but she was much more careful than that trollop, Brenda Bush, and there was no evidence of her indiscretions, and no strange lack of evidence in her files either. She'd had to leave though.