The Good Neighbors Ch. 12

The road straightened out for a moment and Tommy sneaked another glance at his companion. He had offered to drive, anticipating a flood of tears from her as they flew further and further away from her husband and crumbling marriage. But her face looked more relaxed than he had seen it the whole trip.

"Where should we get dinner?" she asked, as they turned off the gravel road and finally hit pavement again.

He glanced over at her and found her scrolling down her phone.

"What are our options?"

"It looks like... nothing," she replied.

She turned up the radio, and sang along, beating out the rhythm against the dashboard as they sped back toward civilization.

"Over there!" she called out twenty minutes later, pointing at something he couldn't quite see.

He swerved toward the next off-ramp and wound them over to a small wooden shack, adjacent to nothing. A sign with a florescent pink pig hung over the dirt lot. They found a space in the crowd of cars, and headed closer toward the smell of smoked meats.

Mrs. Clark ordered them a bit of everything, and Tommy carried the heavy tray back to the last empty table. He had tried to pay, but she had been faster. She tapped her Coors Light against his root beer, and they got to work.

"My God, that's good," she moaned.

Tommy grinned, watching the pleasure wash over her face as she cleaned the ribs in one pull.

"I haven't had barbecue in... It must be ten years, I think," she told him.

"Well, that's the fun thing about life," Tommy told her. "You just get to do whatever you want."

She laughed at that as she licked her fingers clean. The sun was gone and the parking lot had spilled over onto the grass by the time they were finished. They retreated back to the road, and headed out toward the highway.

"So, what are you going to do with your free day off?" she asked.

"Hmm," he said. "I'm not sure yet." And then a sudden worry came to him. "My folks were kind of suspicious when I left last minute for a free vacation. I feel like they're going to be a lot more suspicious when I come back early."

His mind flickered through some possible lies, but none of them sounded terribly plausible.

"Do you plan to live with them until you're out of school?"

He considered it for a moment. "Well, probably. I live on campus for most of the year, so I'm only really going to be with them during the summer, though. I certainly got used to just going about my day without this much observation, though. That's been a change."

"And how do you explain all your outings to them then?"

He narrowed his eyes over at her. "There haven't been that many outings, for the record. I would like to think I've kept some shred of my purity intact."

"Really?" she asked, turning in her seat toward him. "How many then?"

Tommy laughed. "What's all that about kissing and telling, Mrs. Clark?"

"Tabby," she said, giving him a dark look. "And what does that mean? That there too many to remember?"

He gave a long, agonized sigh. "There was the Hastings," he said, counting off on his fingers. "And then there were the Millers. And then there was you, Tammy," he said with emphasis. "Oh, and then the Halls."

He tried to remember if there were more. There was another one, she was one of Mrs. Hastings' friends. The woman in red. He couldn't remember her name, though.

Mrs. Clark said nothing for a long while. And then: "Oh, is that the whole list?" she asked. "Wow."

"Too many or too few?"

"It's just a lot less than I expected."

"Well, I'm not a terribly fun person," he admitted.

"No offense, but when someone shows up to sleep with a cabin full of middle aged couples, you just assume they've made more of a career out of it."

"I would like to think that I'm not a professional here," he said. "Just a curious soul, you know? And it's kind of hard to say no to some of it." He glanced over at her again, "I've made more in two days up here than I could have made all summer from real work."

"How much are you trying to raise?"

He thought about it as they crossed over the state line and inched closer toward home. "I don't think I was actually saving for anything. People just kept offering me crazy amounts of money to do things I kind of wanted to do anyway. I mean, I'm sure I'll need it all eventually. I guess I want to get a car at some point."

"Is that how it started with Marty and Melissa?"

Tommy tried to remember how it started with the Hastings as he wound his way around a pack of slower cars. "Enh. They just kind of jumped on me one day. Mrs. Hastings just kind of latched onto him." He nodded toward his lap, "'Him,' I mean."

"I follow," she said dryly. "But, wow. That's a bit aggressive, even for her."

He shrugged again. "To be honest, no one else was trying to, you know, latch on. So, I wasn't mad about it. Just very surprised. Very, very surprised."

She didn't respond for a long while. "That's still a very unfortunate way to have your first time. Then again, mine was with Dave in a twin bed while his mother went out for groceries. Maybe none of us get it right."

It was the first time she'd mentioned her husband so far. He braced himself, in case the tears finally broke free.

"But," she went on, "it's as you said: We get to do whatever we want in life."

"We should get ice cream," he told her.

Her hand brushed down along his knee. "We should stop at a hotel," she countered.

Her hand snapped away just as quickly. "I'm so sorry," she said. "That's not fair to you."

"What do you mean? I was about to agree."

"I don't know. I... I just know you've had a lot of us forcing ourselves on you, or bribing you for sex. I mean, Jesus," she muttered. "You were just telling me precisely that. And then I'm just putting you in an awkward spot all over again."

She took a long drink from her bottle of water and shook her head. "I got carried away. I was truly being stupid and unfair. Please just forget it. I really didn't want to put a damper on this. I was having fun. I still am having fun. Please just forget it."

Tommy said nothing, and they drove on in silence.

They passed one small town after another while the tension grew heavier around them. Signs for home began to blow past them, rushing closer and closer. The fuel tank ran down, and finally Tommy had to pull off down an exit ramp. But they didn't stop at the first gas station, or the second. Instead, they wound down a road of budget hotels at the end of the strip.

"Wait here," he told her. He jumped out of the car and ran inside without another word.

He was back in five minutes. They pulled into a better spot as he ignored her questions without expression. Finally, he pulled a key card from his pocket and held it in front of her.

"I'm tired of driving," Tommy said. "I can't stay on the road anymore. So, I got us the room until ten tomorrow."

"You paid for a room?" she asked in a small voice.

He turned off the ignition and pivoted over toward her. "You're right. People haven't always given me a lot of choices here. Or, at least with the money, they make it really hard to say no.

"But I like getting to know you. And I really, really love your body. I just want to spend all night and all morning fucking you and talking to you and whatever. I want to be friends with you after. That's what I want. I would enjoy that immensely. I think that's a perfect vacation for me.

"So, I hope you think that sounds nice, too. And if you do, I'm paying for the hotel. And I'm paying for breakfast. Because someone needs to treat you for once. And someone needs to stop paying for me."

That did it. The tears came in a flood. He waited uncomfortably as she wiped them away on her sleeve. Without warning, she snatched the key from his hand, and sprang from the car. He followed her into the room without bothering with the luggage, and he kicked the door closed behind him.

With one smooth motion of her hand, she had his cock jutting out through his zipper. She threw herself backward onto the bed. He watched her throw her long legs into the air. A pair of black leggings were wrapped tightly around them like a second set of skin. She wriggled her feet in front of him, silently pleading for him to pull them down to her ankles.

Instead, he pinched his fingers against the crotch and tore the fabric apart to make a hole. She had an old pair of cotton panties underneath. He yanked them aside as she pulled him closer by the cock.

She gasped as he slid inside of her. She held her legs back higher and he sank in deep, until the both of them sighed together. He wrapped an arm beneath her back and dragged her further in, to the center of the bed. Then he mounted her properly and pounded away in desperate, youthful need.

His arms squeezed tightly around her as he came. He bellowed into the air until the windows shook in their frame. Then he collapsed on top of her, sweating heavily and gasping for air. He took in a few ragged breaths, and raised himself onto shaking arms.

His hips pumped against her once more. He could feel it. Already, the next orgasm wasn't far.

"Again?" she asked.

"I'm eighteen," he groaned, and he flipped her onto her belly.

He rode her hard, pressing her chest into the bed as he pounded against the soft cushion of her ass. The clap of skin was deafening, but his roar of triumph as he finished was louder.

His hips continued to beat into her softly, long after he was done. He peeled the cheeks of her ass apart and stroked at the tight, brown hole with the pad of his thumb. She shivered, but she held still, letting him touch it. Neither of them had lube, though, he realized. Heartbreaking.

He tossed her onto her back instead. Her dazed eyes wound around the ceiling, thoroughly lost. When she found him again, her eyes went wide, looking nearly fearful.

"Again?"

His cock sagged to half-mast before he could bluff. Tommy ignored her question instead, and buried his mouth between her legs, tearing the leggings open wider to make room. His tongue dragged up the length of her wet cunt. It was hard to tell what was her arousal and what was just spent seed. He didn't care much either way. It was all salty, slick, and reeked of animal sex.

It didn't take long until her thighs gripped him tight. Her legs were slicked in a cool sheen of sweat, and they blocked out the worst of her screams as they clamped around his ears. That was enough, though. He was ready again.

God, there was still so much left to do to her, he thought. And, try as they might, they still hadn't scratched the surface by the time management kicked them out the door the next morning.

Another hour of driving later and they came to a stop behind the trees at the end of his block. Neither of them had spoken much on the short drive back. It wasn't just the lack of sleep and the dull aches of hunger. And it wasn't the sore muscles and down-to-the bones exhaustion, either.

"You know, if you truly do just need a bit of money," she said, "I bet the Hastings could line you up with a job pretty easily. Real work. If not them, then one of their friends."

A vision of coming to work in a suit and sitting down in a cubicle flashed briefly through his mind. The words 'minimum wage' came to mind, as well. 'Taxes' followed shortly after.

"We might all want your body, but I swear most of us are good people, deep down. I think we would all want to make sure you do alright."

"Except your husband," he countered.

"Except him, yes."

She didn't seem amused by the joke, and he regretted it. Before he could screw up again, he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Then he slid out of the car.

"Call me," he said, as the door swung shut. She nodded, and gave a small wave. She was gone before he even reached his driveway.

Home. He'd barely been away, but already it was like coming home from college all over again.

Except, this time, his pockets were stuffed full of cash. He had money, almost the whole summer left ahead of him, and his balls were painfully empty for perhaps the first time ever. There was nothing left to do but lay around and buy anything he wanted.

A grin split across his face as he shouldered his bag through the front door.

"Hey, I'm home," he called out down the hall.

He was halfway to his room when he spotted her. The woman in red -he remembered her name now.

"Mrs. Greene?" he asked.

She looked so different. Her long brown hair was in a ponytail now. He barely recognized her with her breasts covered up. The last time he'd seen her, he realized, she had put a finger in his ass. That was just before she drank his spunk out of another woman's mouth. And now she was in his kitchen, drinking coffee, giggling next to his mother.

Mrs. Greene gave a small wave, and then she slipped out of her chair to greet him properly.