The Good Neighbors Ch. 14

It took nearly four hours before the first part of the plan went wrong.

Everything hinged upon one essential idea -everyone acting like they were a part of normal society. It was the entire goal of the evening. It was a lie, sure, but it shouldn't have been a complicated or challenging lie to pull off. They did it every day when they went to work or picked up the kids from school

The party had barely been announced and already the text messages had set ulcers boiling away in his stomach. Pictures of tits, erect cocks, gaping pussies, and fluids of every type. His phone was filling up with enough unsolicited porn to last him through his sophomore year.

"I've been waiting to see you again, ever since that first party :)" one unknown number began. "This time you better keep that bedroom door unlocked, or else I'm just going to have to blow it right down -The Big BAD Wolf".

Mr. Miller, an old client with an incest kink, wrote, "We're gonna pass you around like a joint!"

Tommy sat with his legs crossed on his mattress and carefully worked out a fair and polite response to all of it. After a dozen drafts, he finally sent the message out to everyone:

"In order for me to continue to be involved with everyone in this group, my parents must see and be convinced that I am doing nothing out of the ordinary on my evenings away with you. Please understand and help me to achieve this goal at our gathering this weekend. I will be forever in your debt, and I promise to make it up to you very soon! <3 Tommy".

The first reply came back in less than a minute.

"your parents are joining in?!?! FINALLY!! fuck yes!"

Tommy blinked back at the screen, silently shaking his head in disbelief. "This is a barbecue. Not a sex party," he wrote back. "If you cannot behave, you cannot come."

The stranger's reply came back just as quickly.

"oh, ill behave ;) i can behave SO fucking good. ever get railed so hard in your tight little asshole that you blew your load?" they asked.

He pivoted, and he wrote to Mrs. Hastings instead. "Can you tell whoever's number this is that they're not invited?"

He knew what the response would be before he event sent it off.

"They're just teasing you, dear! Don't worry so much!"

"PEOPLE HAVE PROMISED ME THAT IN THE PAST AND BEEN INCORRECT," he wrote back.

It didn't even end there. By the time he got back from the shower, there were a handful of mild messages, telling him how excited they were to come. But then there was also a message asking what his mother's cunt tasted like. And whether she'd ever been with a 'proper bull' yet, or if this party was going to be her first time.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he wrote back.

He crushed his face into the sheets and screamed until he was out of breath. "I need new friends."

"Ban this asshole, too," he wrote Mrs. Hastings.

"That's a woman," she wrote back, "But we'll tell her to behave, too!"

No one seemed to listen, or seemed to care. They were, however, able to beg for photos. Photos of his parents when they were younger seemed to top the list.

"It's been awhile since we've had anyone new come aboard. They're just very excited to see everyone," Mrs. Hastings replied. "And everyone just loved your mother at brunch."

"MY PARENTS ARE NOT COMING ABOARD," he wrote back, the veins of his throat bulging wildly. "THAT IS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT WE ARE DOING HERE."

"Wanna have a quick video chat?" another unknown number wrote back.

"Who the fuck are you?" he replied.

"Doris, cutie! Wow!" It took him a moment to place the name. Mrs. Greene. His woman in red.

He slipped his headphones in and the frustration vanished as she greeted with him a beaded purple vibrator buried between her legs. She was clearly quite drunk and giggly.

"I thought you were a gentleman," she chided, giving an evil grin.

Her long-nailed fingers worked with practiced speed with one hand and she pumped the thick toy in and out with the other. The muscle of her bicep bulged as she plunged the toy back out again with a wet, sloppy squelch.

After a minute, the sound of her climactic shrieks drove him over the edge. A few quick pumps and he was about to spray his load. There was nowhere else to catch it, and so he emptied it all into his open hand instead.

She watched as he staggered over to the bathroom and washed himself clean. By the time he came back, she was watching him through half-closed eyelids and bucking against the floor again.

Once she was finally finished, thirty minutes later, she flicked off the toy, but left it still inside as her hands traced her thighs, drawing out the last flushes of pleasure. She had a dreamy sort of grin across her face.

"When you were here this morning," he grinned, "did you know what I was doing in my room, with the door locked?"

Her mouth opened in surprise, and he grinned wider, feeling the burn of a blush along his cheeks. "With your mother just outside, too?"

"I couldn't help it."

"You should have let me in," she chided.

"If you come around when my parents aren't here, absolutely."

She hooked her fingers around the bowl of her wine glass and finished the drink in one pull. "You know, you're all just human. It's okay to enjoy sex. It's very popular."

He shook his head tightly. "Not for my family. For us, it's okay to never discuss it again."

"Where do you think you came from?" she laughed.

"I like to imagine I was adopted," he replied, no longer smiling.

"That's not good," she said, wagging a finger at the screen. "If you all hide what you like and what you do and who you are from each other..."

She seemed to lose her train of thought for a moment and she tried to drink again from the empty glass, and shook her head in confusion. "Well, you can't be close with someone unless you're honest with them, right? And you show them your... your real self. Or true self? To spend a life... uh, lying and hiding-"

"That's my only goal," he said flatly, cutting her off. "To lie and hide who I am to my family, and what I'm doing with you guys. My only goal."

Her face fell at that. Pangs of guilt crept up, but there was nothing else to be said about it, and he was sick of having to explain it.

"Everyone thinks I want to hear about how they'll fuck my parents," he whispered to her. "They want me involved in it. They want me to hear about it and be turned on by it. I just need one person in this group to understand that that's kind of fucked up."

"I understand," she whispered back. "But, if you want to understand where... where they're coming from-". The toy popped from her with a wet sound. She looked at it in surprise, then back up at the camera again. "Everything we do is supposed to be about feeling good and finding new ways of feeling good. Helping others to feel good... I just want us all to feel good.

"Sometimes that's cooking a meal, or whatever," she went on. "Or going on trips, or helping with... But usually it's just a good cum and a sexy new little fantasy, you know? Or having someone get real hot looking at you... Having them want you... it can make life so much better."

"You had fun with us," she added. "Why can't they?"

"A kid should not be fucking the same group of people as his parents! Fucking obviously!" he hissed.

She held up a hand and the last of her dreamy smile faded away. "Would you feel better if we sent them over to play with someone else? There are others, you know? There are people who don't come to our groups anymore. Does that... appeal to you?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Because," she went on, sitting further upright, "if it's not that, and you really want your parents to be happy, and they can make their own decisions, then it's just... it's just your hang-ups. You don't want your parents having sex-"

"Fine," Tommy snapped at her, shrugging animatedly. "I don't care if that's it. Don't fucking talk to them. Any of you."

"Don't be angry," she said. "I'm not-

"Nope," he said. He hung up without waiting for a response. He didn't need to hear it. He wiped the last few dribbles of spunk off onto his comforter and climbed into bed, feeling too furious to shut his eyes.

The next day was more of the same. He wanted to tell them all what he had told Mrs. Greene, but the fear of pissing them off kept him at bay. He didn't need anyone out for revenge. Instead, he reminded them to be on their best behavior using his best attempt at vacant PR speak.

One day left to go, he thought. And then the world ends.

He folded a few pieces of clothes and stuffed them in a bag, then he counted through his money, and added that. If he had to leave, he wanted to be gone quickly. He spent a half hour pacing around his room, the fury building all over again, until finally he couldn't hold it. He had to talk to someone.

Mr. Hastings was outside, on his knees in his garden, turning a darker shade of brown under the boiling heat.

"Tommy, my boy!" the old man cried out as he spotted him. "I haven't seen you around in ages. How've you been?"

"I wanted to see you," he shrugged.

The older man stopped his digging and turned around, his bushy eyebrow waggling eagerly. "Me? Well now, that's a change."

"I'm sorry I haven't been around. It's been a lot, these last couple weeks."

Mr. Hastings nodded sympathetically. "I'll bet. Well, I'm glad to have you around all the same. What can I help you with?"

"It's the party," Tommy said, sitting down in the hot grass. "Everyone keeps telling me that they're going to hit on my parents, or tell them all about me, or-"

"They won't," Mr. Hastings said flatly. The old man seemed to weigh his words for a moment. "Some of them might be thinking with their cocks right now, when they're home alone, jerking off and bothering you. But, in person, they'll have some sense. They'll behave. I'll make sure of it."

Tommy started to nod, then shook his head. "I don't know. It's making me sick. I wish they'd stop it. I can't even sleep. They keep making me think the worst."

"Aw, now. It won't be that bad," Mr. Hastings said softly. "And the wife and I have our own dinner plans, so I'll make sure none of them linger enough to cause trouble. We'll all have lunch, we'll close it down, and everything will be right back to how it was again," he said, slapping the boy on the arm.

Tommy shook his head, hardly hearing him. "Mrs. Greene called me. She said I should like having my parents join in on the sex parties with me, or something like that," he added quickly, sensing that wasn't quite accurate. "She said I was being selfish, because I didn't want that. Basically. And so I kind of yelled at her, and now she's mad at me, too."

Mr. Hastings grunted. "That's a bit extreme. Even for her."

"And then I've got two dozen other people texting me, telling me the same thing. It's fucked up. Some of these people have met me. I'm not some... anonymous random person online that they're trying to attack. They know me, and they still want to screw up my life," he said. "I thought you guys liked me."

Tears threatened to spill over, and Tommy quickly looked away.

"I'll talk to them," Mr. Hastings said after a long while. The man's hand patted against Tommy's knee softly. "It'll be alright."

Tommy nodded, still looking away.

"Wanna hide out here?" the old man asked. "I could find some work to keep you busy."

Tommy shook his head again. "No. But thanks," he said, his voice cracking sharply. "I'm gonna go," he said, and he strode back across the lawn.

One day left.

Suddenly, it was 10 p.m., and his parents were heading to bed. Then it was two in the morning, and he was still sitting at his desk. His phone had spent the night powered down, to avoid making things worse. It didn't quite seem to work.

By four in the morning, he laid down in bed.

There was a loud knock. "Tommy?"

His eyes snapped open. The room was suddenly filled with light. Someone was at his bedroom door. "Tommy, we're going to head over now to help set up. Are you gonna be ready?"

He glanced around the room until he found the clock. It was already eleven-thirty. His time was already up.

"Yeah," he barked out. He burrowed back under the covers and stared into the darkness of them, pulling them tighter until it hurt.

He waited until noon, sneaking peaks at his clock through a hole in his blanket. He was dressed in a minute, then was out the door and across the lawn before his brain could stop him.

The Hastings had gone all out for the event. Small white tables were dotted across the wide yard. A young man in uniform held a tray with appetizers aloft as he wove around the chairs. The grill was pumping out smells that brought him right back to his trip with Mrs. Clark. He remembered watching the woman lick the barbecue sauce from her fingers, and the way her tongue had cleaned him just the same a few hours later... He was grinning by the time he reached the gathering crowd.

"Hey, you finally joined us," his mother called out. She was wearing a slim yellow sun dress. It was very unlike anything he had seen her in before. And she was smiling, too. That was also very much unlike her.

"Did they still need any help?" he asked.

"Enh, they turned me down," his father cut in. "I think you're safe." He was sipping at one of the Hastings' cocktail glasses, and an empty beer already sat beside him. The waiter snatched the trash away a moment later.

"Oh, there's Debbie! Hey!" his mother called out, waving to a petite, dark haired woman who had just arrived.

"Mandy!" the woman shot back, dashing over and pulling his mother into a tight hug. "Oh my God! Is this your family?"

Introductions were made just in time for both women to scream out, "Amy!" and drag in another woman in to start the process over. This one was tall, with gray hair that had to be dyed, because she seemed hardly older than Tommy.

After another round of greetings, things seemed safe enough, and he slipped away to find a soda. A few people patted him silently on the back as he passed, but they said nothing as he pushed ahead. He was heading back to his parents when he saw a pair of familiar faces.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hall?"

The man and his wife blinked and looked over at him. "Oh, Tommy! Hey! How's it going?"

"Great," he said. "Nice to see you again," he added without stopping, before they could draw him into a conversation. He had had enough drama with those two, after their failed attempted at a swinger's getaway trip.

"Tabby says hello!" Mrs. Hall called out, stopping him in his tracks. Tabby Clark. The image of her tongue sliding up her finger returned to him again. "She said you were a true gentleman!"

Tommy grinned again, gave a small bow, and then marched on, feeling nearly giddy, despite himself. He couldn't find the Hastings anywhere. He searched around for Mrs. Greene, but she was nowhere in sight, either. He was ready to duck beneath a table, though, if he spotted her.

Back at his parents' table, a concernedly large crowd had gathered around. The new women, who's names already escaped him, were still hanging around, along with half a dozen other faces he recognized vaguely from the last party.

"I'm telling you, you'll love it. Nothing but white beaches and servers handing you free drinks, morning 'til night 'til the next morning again," a man said, nudging Tommy's father in the ribs. "Sam gets us a remarkable deal on it every year. Fifteen hundred, all inclusive, all private. Nothing like you'd find on any travel site, I guarantee it."

Tommy watched his dad nodding along with a bit too much interest. "That's not bad. That's not bad at all, actually."

"Hot tub on the balcony," the man went on. "A butler fills it up for you every night. You don't even have to turn the nobs. And you're looking right down at the pool up there. Half the women below don't even bother getting dressed. And it's the half you'd want, believe me," he laughed with another elbow to the ribs.

Tommy flushed as brightly as his mother. His father gave an embarrassed grin and hid it behind a long gulp of his drink.

"Don't listen to him," another man said, roaring in laughter. "It's not like he remembers any of it. He was drunk before we even got off the plane."

"Hey! I was drunk well before we got on that plane, and you know it!"

Tommy's mother smiled weakly, and the boy slipped back toward the house, eager to get away from the conversation. He worked his way onto the porch, tossing his empty bottle into the trash along his way. His eyes went back to the bar, but it was still a stranger behind the counter; some older woman he didn't recognize. She poured him a water and he wandered back off to find the Hastings, or someone else to distract him.

The place was filling up quickly. "Hey, movie star!" someone called into his ear, gripping him by the shoulder. Tommy twisted out of the grip and pushed on, not interested enough to find out what the comment meant.

Just as he was looping back around past the porch, he spotted her. She was kneeling in the grass, unloading a box of wine glasses.

"Erin!" he called over.

Her blonde ponytail flickered over her shoulder and she spotted him through the crowd. She gave a small wave, and then went back to work. It didn't seem very promising, but he dashed over to her all the same.

"Hey. Sorry," she said, "I'm already behind"

He pulled a glass free, eager to assist, but then was at a loss of what to actually do. "Can I help you?"

She gave a few quick directions and, five minutes later, he met up with her again as she took over the duties at the bar.

"So, what happened after I left the cabin?" he asked.

"Enh, not much," she shrugged. "We only stuck around another day. After you ran off with his wife, Dave just wanted to stay in his bedroom with me and ignore all the others. And he just sulked the whole time, complaining about you, really.

"And then," she went on, "Greg and him got into it in the middle of the night, a whole big thing. The Halls were ready to go the next morning, so I went with them. Oh, and then Dave didn't want to pay for your share and refused to pay for mine, since we both left early, and they got into it all over again. So stupid.

"Then," she went on, pouring out red wine into a row of glasses, "while we're going home, Holly keeps trying to call Tabby, but Tabby wasn't answering, so all of us are freaking out. I kept telling them to call you, but no one wanted to worry you."

"Ah," Tommy said. "She was actually probably still with me."

"Well," Erin went on, flashing him an amused glance, "that we found out later. Holly texted me, told me she was doing fine. She had a lot to say about you."

Tommy grinned, and was slow to hide it. "Really?"

A sharp fingernail tapped into his shoulder and he spun back around without thinking. The grin died as he stared back into the face of Mrs. Greene.

"Ah," he said.

She was starring him in the eyes, unblinking. "Thomas, I'm very sorry."

He shook his head quickly. The awkwardness was already unbearable. "It's fine-"

"No," she said. "No, I was so determined to have you understand me that I wasn't listening to you. And I'm very sorry for that."

"It's fine," he said again, and looked around the crowd for somewhere else to escape to.

"I would apologize more," she pushed on, her facing turning serious, "but if you still want to keep your parents from getting involved, you need to go and find your father right this moment."

She pointed off into the distance, presumably back toward his parents. "They've already got them separated. Just go stand next to him and talk as much as you can," she said, pulling him forward by the arm. "That'll spoil the mood."

He gave a small wave to Erin, but she had already disappeared behind a wall of thirsty customers.

"I'll text you," Mrs. Greene told him, as they pushed people aside to make way. For a moment, he assumed she meant later that night. "Keep your eyes on your phone," she went on, "but don't leave your father's side for a minute. If he has to piss, you stand beside him and hold. Got it?"