The Good Neighbors Ch. 06

It was sometime after 2 a.m. when Tommy quietly unlocked the door to his house and slipped inside. Most of the cars outside the Hastings' home were gone now, but there were still more than a dozen people in the living room as Tommy had crept through it. They were all snoozing away, thankfully, or too out of it to harass him.

He turned on the shower and let it melt away the dried fluids, smeared residues, and the gagging scent of sex off of him. His cock was oddly puffy and red from thorough overuse. His balls ached in their emptiness. He scrubbed himself three times with soap, gave a half-hearted attempt at drying off, and then collapsed. He fell asleep with his feet still hanging off of the bed.

"Well?" his mother asked, twelve hours later. She had woken him up to make sure he at least got some breakfast before dinner was served. "How did it go?"

"It was fine," Tommy said.

"Did you hurt yourself?" He raised and eyebrow and she pointed at something on his neck. "You've got a bruise."

Mrs. Greene, he thought.

"Ran into someone. Wasn't looking."

His mother frowned, but she let it go. "Well, at least it went well. And maybe one of their friends will have work for you now, too."

Tommy's eyes widened at that. It wasn't hard to imagine that at least one of the guests was interested in seeing him again, especially after his early escape.

Passing around trays for a couple of hours hadn't much work, for two hundred bucks. As long as everyone knew that catering was as far as he would go, it wasn't exactly a bad deal.

But, then again, if they wanted a real caterer, they could have found professionals. And for a lot less money, too.

"And how were their friends?" his mother continued. "How a person her age has so many college friends, I'll never understand. I barely even talk to Sally," she sighed. "I do wish she'd let us come over to one of their parties sometime. Maybe you can be our way in. It'd be nice to have new friends."

"They're very dull," Tommy said quickly. "Very religious."

"Really? I never would have guessed."

He ate three bowls of cereal and then went to nap on the couch. His penis was swollen and sore. The ladies had not been gentle with it. He spent the rest of the day grabbing cold sodas from the fridge and holding them in his lap for comfort.

What made it more difficult was, no matter what he tried, the image of those two women, on all fours, beaded with sweat, their faces naked with raw, animal need, their asses held high in the air for him to use... It was burned into his mind. His cock continually tried to swell back to life, only backing down when an ice cold drink smothered it again.

Monday came, and Tommy kept the lights to the house off and the blinds closed. He was not ready for more of the Hastings yet.

The doorbell rang when he was in the bathroom, and he crept out of it silently to peak through the window. Whoever had been there was gone, but there was a basket now sitting on the front porch.

He debated whether or not to take it. If he took it, they would know he was home. But, on the other hand, there seemed to be food inside of it. He snatched it up quickly and retreated inside.

It was a basket of fruit and cheese and bagged snacks. "From the Hastings" was handwritten on a card inside. He tore it open and read through it quickly as he devoured a pear.

"We wanted to thank you, Tommy, for all of your hard work! We know you must be exhausted and, as your first employer, we wanted to say that you earned every dollar of it. If your parents are reading this with you, tell them they raised a very hard worker!

"We've already had four of our friends ask about your availability, so keep us updated. Until then, eat up! A growing boy needs his strength! We'll see you all soon.

"Love, the Hastings."

Tommy pocketed the letter, finished every scrap of food inside, and then hid the basket in the trash bin outside. As careful as the Hastings were trying to be, he'd rather his parents never think about that night again.

Tommy was careful to avoid being seen through the windows, but by Wednesday he had gotten too bold. He saw the mailman slipping a package inside the mailbox. Intrigued, he set out for it without thinking.

"Tommy!"

He was three steps outside the door when he heard it. It was Mr. Hastings, by himself, rushing over in his gardening clothes and sunhat. it was the worst-case scenario.

"Oh, hello, sir," Tommy said, retreating back onto the porch.

"Did you get the basket?"

Tommy had forgotten all about it already, and felt a pang of guilt. "Oh, I'm sorry. I did. Thank you for that. I actually finished it all in one sitting."

Mr. Hastings threw back his head in laughter, and patted the boy on the shoulder. "Ah, that's alright. I know you must have been tired. Mrs. Hastings told me all about it," he said. His hand was still on Tommy's shoulder.

"You've been playing favorites, Tommy," Mr. Hastings went on. "Even Mrs. Greene got to have you. For hours and hours, they told us."

"Well-"

"Every which way you could think of, they said. And they kept you all locked away for themselves. I punished Melissa thoroughly, don't you worry about that. She won't be hogging you again." Mr. Hastings hand began to stroke and rub at his arm now. "Your parents home?"

Tommy shook his head, then regretted it.

"Perfect," Mr. Hastings said. "We can get even with them now." He eyed the neighborhood behind them. Finding it empty, he took the boy's hand and rubbed it quickly against his crotch, grunting softly as the boy's fingers brushed him.

Tommy took a step away, and Mr. Hastings stepped forward with him. "I don't know," Tommy said. "He's still pretty sore."

Mr. Hastings grinned wider. "I don't need him." He saw the look on Tommy's face, and he frowned deeply. "I thought Melissa told you about our deal. You get to use her as long as I get to use you. Isn't that what she said?"

Tommy nodded.

"Well, I have a need. And if my wife's all tired from servicing you, then you're going to be my replacement wife. That was the deal."

Tommy grit his teeth. It was getting to be unbearably uncomfortable. How could he tell the man that he preferred girls? Or that he wanted to keep fucking Mrs. Hastings without him?

But... then again, Mr. Hastings had made him cum in a way he never had before or since. It was more intense than what either of the women had given him. And the sweet pleasure of it had stayed with him longer.

And it wasn't that Mr. Hastings was repellent. Tommy just wasn't attracted to men. The man's cock worked magic, when it was in the moment. It just didn't seem appealing until that moment came.

He was halfway ready to agree out of simple politeness when another idea occurred to him.

"I think, from now on, both of you should be present," Tommy said. "I don't want there to be any hard feelings again. I feel like I'm causing trouble."

"She's had you twice now without me," Mr. Hastings countered.

"Well... Sure, but that's the kind of jealousy and counting that I'm hoping to avoid, you know?"

The older man rubbed at his chin and considered it. "One time, and we call it even."

The boy weighed an afternoon spent watching TV versus a few orgasms. "Fine," Tommy said.

"Bargaining with my own wife," Mr. Hastings muttered. "That's where men stand these days. Well, follow me," the older man said, stepping down from the porch.

"You didn't want to..."

"Your house?" Mr. Hastings laughed. "I'm not that bold."

Tommy followed him through the Hastings' back porch, into the house, and then to the back room.

"Now, you just wait there for a moment," Mr. Hastings said as they stepped inside the bedroom. He opened the doors to the closet and walked inside, just as Mrs. Hastings had done the last time. Tommy kicked off his shoes and waited. A minute later, Mr. Hastings emerged, and not empty-handed.

"I don't think so," Tommy said.

Mr. Hastings shook the dress in his hands, then tossed it onto the bed. "I'm not asking you to think about it." Tommy shook his head again. "Melissa told me what she wore for you," Mr. Hastings chided. "That was my anniversary gift to her. She said you fucked her in the ass while she wore it. Among other degrading acts. That was my wife, boy. It's high time you repay me for that."

"That's humiliating," Tommy told him.

"Humiliating? Why is it humiliating?" The boy didn't have a quick enough answer for that. "It gets me rock hard," the older man went on, grabbing his crotch. "And no one's gonna see you in it but me. So who's there to be embarrassed for? I'll do a hell of a lot less than you did to my wife and childhood crush, that's for damn sure."

"Mrs. Greene?" Tommy asking, smirking.

"Hell yeah," Mr. Hastings replied. "Her tits were even bigger back in school, if you can believe it. And perky enough to defy gravity." Mr. Hastings sighed, his mind far away for a moment. "Now put on the dress."

Tommy stripped off his things as the old man watched. He was blushing fiercely, and covered himself as he approached the dress. So humiliating, he thought again.

It was nothing scandalous, at least. It seemed like it was long enough to reach the floor. It was black, and softer than anything he'd felt before.

He slipped it on without thinking. It was more complicated to get his head through the hole and facing the right direction that he expected. There were so many small straps and too many holes, he thought. After half a dozen tries, he slipped his arms out the right way and found that the dress left his shoulders and most of his back exposed. A slash ran from the hem up to his hip, showing off his long leg for anyone to see.

"Mrs. Hastings fits in this?" Tommy asked. The woman was much shorter and broader than he was, but this dress seemed to cling to him just right, with the hem of it only brushing the tops of his feet.

"Nope," Mr. Hastings said. "That one's just for you. I picked it out yesterday."

Tommy turned away again. It was so shameful to have the man see him like this. But the silky material ran up and down his skin like cool water. It clung to him, showing off the curves of his muscle, and the bone of his hip. He could even see his bulge in the middle of it, a protrusion in a stretch of fabric with nothing else around to help hide it. It didn't look bad. Tommy watched the length of his cock swelling beneath the tight black fabric, and he was embarrassed all over again.

Mr. Hastings approached from behind, his leathery hands running down the length of the boy's sides. His mouth was on Tommy's neck, and his hips pressed against the boy's tightly.

Tommy moaned unexpectedly as the man's hands found his chest and began to stroke his nipples. It didn't take long for Mr. Hastings' hands to make their way downward and stroke the length of Tommy's erection. Tommy moaned louder.

The old man turned him around and, together, they fell into bed. Mr. Hastings mouth was on the boy's, and his hands were all over him, stroking and squeezing anything he could reach. Tommy could hear the man's breathing going ragged, and could see the man's face growing redder.

Mr. Hastings grabbed him by the hips and turned him over with easy strength. Then the bed rocked as the man climbed back out of bed again. Mr. Hastings emerged from the closet a moment later, a pair of handcuffs in his hand.

"It's only fair," he reminded the boy.

He let the boy be cuffed in front of his chest. Tommy buried his face into the comforter as the old man re-positioned him on all fours. Tommy's heart raced as the man delicately pulled his dress higher and higher, until the cool breeze of the air conditioner was dragging across his bare skin. The man's calloused hand stroked the cheek of the boy's ass with slow appreciation.

"You're my wife now," Mr. Hastings said, his voice low and husky. His finger trailed quickly across the boy's hole, making him shiver. "You're mine to use," he said. His hand struck Tommy on the ass, harder than the boy expected, making him jump. "You need to make me feel good. You need to be a good wife to me now."

Tommy nodded, his face against the sheets. "Please," the boy said. He was ready for that sweet pressure again. He jumped hard again as the man's fingers gripped him by the base of his balls.

"You're mine to use," Mr. Hastings said coldly, as the boy kicked around uselessly. "When I want. How I want. Do you understand?"

Tommy nodded again. The grip tightened harder, and a flurry of sharp spanks followed.

" 'Yes, sir.' Say it," Mr. Hastings growled.

"Yes, sir," Tommy said breathlessly.

The old man released his sack and stroked his ass again. Every so often, he'd use his finger to brush against the boy's hole. After a few minutes of it, the boy's legs were quivering. By the time Mr. Hastings' mouth took hold of him, Tommy was already dribbling pre-cum onto the sheets.

"You're so pretty," Mr. Hastings told him. His lips were against the boy's asshole as he spoke, and it made Tommy's legs shake harder. "Such a fuckable little wife. I'm gonna buy you heels next time."

Tommy knew better than to speak. He moaned instead.

"Now I'm going to make you my wife properly," Mr. Hastings said, shifting positions.

Tommy yelped as the man's cock pushed against him. He tried to thrust his hips backward, to drive the man inside him, but Mr. Hastings held him still.

Little by little, the pressure increased. Tommy's body shook, needing it. He knew he should breathe, but he couldn't seem to force his lungs to open. The old man pressed harder and harder against him, the tip of it only just beginning to penetrate through the tight folds of skin.

Then, suddenly, the old man was inside, slipping into him deeper, inch by inch. Tommy's toes wriggled wildly. He breathed in deep, then cried out until he was breathless again. He squeezed the man with every muscle in his body, and Mr. Hastings stiffen harder.

The old man thrust into him. A harsh clapping sound rang out as the man's thighs met the boy's tight cheeks. Little by little, the clapping sound grew louder, echoing throughout the room until it was all they could hear. The full weight of the man was driving into him. The hard knot of the man's cock dug and twisted inside, stroking something inside of him that made his mind go blank.

After a moment, Tommy couldn't hold his ass into the air by himself any longer, and Mr. Hastings had to hold him upright.

"You're my little wife," Mr. Hastings barked. "You're my little wife!" he screamed.

The man's cock swelled larger. The head of it grew harder, and denser inside of him. Then it began to shake and tug inside the boy as the old man came.

Tommy grinned widely.

A few breaths later, the old man put Tommy onto his back and pulled the dress up higher. He held the boys legs up with one hand, and pumped his thick fingers inside the boy's ass with the other. He seemed to know exactly what to touch. Tommy watched the ceiling, glassy-eyed and breathless, waiting for it.

The first orgasm took him by surprise. Hard streaks of semen sprayed out across his dress and belly and shoulder. His body hardly seemed to register it. A few minutes later, he came again, his whole body contracting in unison around the man's fingers.

By the third time, Mr. Hastings was hard enough again that he slipped back inside. Cum spilled from Tommy's own cock with every thrust. The old man couldn't finish again, but he pumped until he had no energy left to give.

Afterward, they washed each other in the shower by the pool, basking in the sun and enjoying the heat of the day. Mr. Hastings asked Tommy to wrap around from behind and masturbate him. Tommy obeyed without a word, but nothing came of it.

"Don't worry about it. It felt nice anyway," Mr. Hastings said.

As Tommy dressed to leave, the old man slipped another hundred dollar bill into his pocket.

"What's that for?"

"Go buy yourself something pretty, dear," Mr. Hastings said, grinning.

Tommy rubbed at the money between his fingers. How much had he earned now? He had already lost track. Enough that he wouldn't have to work this summer, that was for sure.

"Were... were there really friends of yours that wanted to hire me?" Tommy asked.

"They're begging for you," Mr. Hastings said.

Tommy grinned back.