The Good Neighbors Ch. 15

Tommy blinked up at a blue sky.

A hand twisted against his shirt and jerked him roughly as he lay against the grass, shaking him back to attention.

"You settled down yet?" a man asked, silhouetted against the sun.

Tommy blinked upward for a moment, then scampered quickly back to his feet. A small crowd of wide-eyed onlookers had gathered around them. The man took a step back, holding up his hands defensively. His dress shirt was untucked, and ripped across the breast. His lip was bleeding, and there was a dark mark against his chin. But the side of Tommy's head throbbed painfully where the man had repeatedly beat him.

It hadn't been a very impressive fight so far. And, just as quickly as it had started, Tommy was done with it.

Without another word, he turned and strode away.

He was across the front yard and back home a few seconds later, but it had felt much longer with a dozen eyes on his back the whole way. He went through the front door, straight to his bedroom, and grabbed his go bag from the closet. He hoisted it over his shoulder and was back in the living room a moment later.

The spectators that had followed him around the side of the house still hovered there. After a few more minutes, they turned back toward their party and trailed away. The moment the last of them had left, Tommy slipped out the door, and headed quickly down the sidewalk.

He brushed his fingers over the welt, testing the damage. It stung, and it was definitely swelling, but at least it wasn't bleeding.

The sound of a distant engine rang out from a distance behind him, breaking the silence that hung over the neighborhood, making him jump. In an instant, he dashed through a wall of bushes, shoving his way forward. The noise of the engine grew steadily closer as he climbed deeper into the brambles. When he could no longer see the road, he stopped, and waited for it to pass.

But as it crept closer, the sound of it began to slow. Then the engine cut off. The door of it opened and slammed shut. The soft clack of heels against the pavement became a soft pad across the grass.

Two sets of long fingernails cut through the branches ahead of him and pulled the leaves aside. A steely eye looked through the hole of it carefully back at him. There was a great sigh.

"Are you okay?" Mrs. Greene asked.

"Yes," Tommy nonchalantly replied.

She blinked back at him for a moment. And then she was gone.

He could still hear her on the other side of it, silently waiting for him to follow. After a moment, he pushed back through the branches and knocked the debris from his clothes.

When he was done, a soft hand cupped under his chin and held his head higher for her to see. She clucked as she looked over the damage.

"What happened?"

"Someone shoved me to the front of the house and then hit me," Tommy said, gesturing to his face.

"Kenneth," she said, nodding. She tilted his head a few times, then stroked at his cheek gently. "Well, nothing to be done about it. Your parents don't seem to have seen the fuss. I doubt anyone's eager to tell them."

"How did you find me?"

"I have my sources," she said shortly as she began tying up her hair. "Well, clean yourself off before you get in the car. I'll drive you home."

"I'm not going home," he said. "I've got enough money. I'm not going back there."

"What will you tell your parents?"

Tommy shook his head. "I don't know. I'll think of something."

He tried to avoid her eye as she studied him over. He gazed downward, past her heavy breasts, then past the wide hips that stretched at her dress dangerously. She didn't leave a lot of safe options to hold his gaze. He looked at her shoes instead.

"Well, we'll need to put something on that before the swelling gets any worse. We'll sort it out from there. Come on," she called, turning back toward the car.

"Where?"

"You can stay with me until I find a better place for you."

He waited for a moment, trying to think of an objection, but one never came.

Mrs. Greene, it turned out, lived on the other side of town, toward the edge of the city. She pulled into a basement parking garage and lead him upward by an elevator.

Her place was lined in bright white walls bathed in sunlight. Other than a few pieces of furniture, it was nearly empty. It had an unlived-in look to it, but it was clean, and it was spacious.

His eyes sprang back to her as she bent over to open a low freezer door. The fabric of her tight dress pulled thinner, revealing the wide curve of her ass, unbroken by any sign of something underneath.

"Twenty minutes," she called out. She rose gracefully and strode over to toss him an ice pack. He put it to his eye without a word as she looked over her apartment.

"I don't spend much time here," she admitted. "My children stay at the home."

Tommy nodded along, as if he knew.

"This was my husband's secret little bachelor pad, when he got tired of including me in his affairs," she said, shaking her head with apparent annoyance. "Idiot. I changed the locks, and now I take my lovers here instead."

Tommy grinned, and his cock stirred between his legs. "Is that what I am?"

"You," she said, stroking her fingers beneath his chin again, "are my patient. Now sit down. We have planning to do."

He obeyed, falling backward onto a wide couch as she gracefully lowered onto the coffee table beside him.

"First, we must decide what to tell your parents. Your bruise is already visible. Are there friends you could feasibly be staying with?"

Tommy shifted his icepack and shrugged. "Not very believably. But it'll have to do. Maybe I got bored at the party and they invited me on another trip?"

Mrs. Greene thought about it for a moment. "Perhaps," she said, pressing a finger against her lips. "You should call your mother soon, and explain that you're heading out with friends for a few days. Then, in a couple days more, tell her the trip is extended. It might be more believable that way."

Tommy nodded, and slid the phone out from his pocket.

"Not yet," she went on, holding up a hand to keep him still. "We have another issue. We should talk about your parents."

Tommy cleared his throat. "The Hastings swore they were shutting the party down after lunch. They promised me they wouldn't be doing anything, and I believe them."

"That's not what I'm worried about," she said quickly. "And not strictly true. A gentleman of mine and I were planning to have dinner with them. And another young man."

"Oh."

"None-the-less, I agree. They know not to invite your parents into it. It's some of the others that I'm concerned about. The ones I normally choose not to spend very much time with."

She folded her leg carefully. "We have a bit of a system, when a couple is new to the process," she began. "And it starts by getting the couple apart."

Hands balled into fists at Tommy's side.

"First the man. A strange new woman gives him a bit of attention and a smile. And... that's usually enough to set the hook there. No offense.

"But then the woman. She's different. She hears a few scandalizing stories of gossip about friends of friends. All very romantic, very passionate. They point to a stranger in the distance and say 'It's her!' It's just some ordinary, plain housewife they're pointing to. And she's having such powerful, erotic adventures. Every weekend, good, kind, handsome men are crawling on their knees to serve her every fantasy.

"Then, after a time, a friend takes her aside, in greatest confidence, and tells her that she, too, has a story like that. A couple friend they trusted and cared for had dinner with them once. One thing led to another, and then she's cumming more times in one evening than she has in the past ten years combined. Everyone walked away happy, healthy, and more satisfied in their relationships. They remain good friends, as if nothing at all had changed between them. And it never happened again."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "It never happened again?"

"The story is not true, dear," Mrs. Greene said gently, patting him on the knee. "It's just meant to plant the seed in the woman's mind. This is a friend I trust, she'll think. This is a friend who is open to the idea of swapping partners. Who can enjoy this without drama or pressure. It strengthened their marriage and friendships. They are free and available to try again.

"The woman remains fascinated. Then, perhaps, she's intrigued enough to test the waters. She mentions this juicy bit of gossip to her husband as if it were just another silly story. A housewife in their new social circle is eager to fuck married men.

"He sees how easily the woman could be his. It was no mere fantasy. It was at the very tip of his fingers. He becomes engrossed by the idea. All in secret, of course.

"And it builds. Until, one day, the dinner invitation comes to them. They're to be alone with a couple known to share, in the privacy of a home, where the wine is sure to pour freely.

"The new couple knows what might happen. If they acknowledge it to one another, it's only as a joke. But the thought is not far from either of their minds. And then the evening is finally here.

"Nothing happens," she cut in quickly.

"Oh, the couples flirt and give suggestive looks. But they're sent away with a peck on the cheek and a firm handshake.

"The new couple leaves, feeling disappointed, but very much now consumed by the idea of it. They were so close. One small touch or comment and it might have happened. There would have been no stopping it.

"The women's friendship and trust is made stronger in the days after. A lot of discussion occurs about how trustworthy and good their husbands are. How loving. How eager to please. All flattery and long looks.

"Some couples pull away before things get too far," Mrs. Greene went on. "But those that stay eventually give in, in the end."

With great effort, Tommy unclenched his fists and took a breath. "And that's what's going on right now with my parents?"

She nodded.

"And what am I supposed to do about it?" he said stiffly.

An evil grin split across her face. "I've already made a lunch date with your mother for next week. I'll find out what couple's been working on her. Then I'll make sure to mention that the husband's dick is rotting away off from all the whores he's chased around town. Maybe I'll mention that he only likes his girls quite a lot younger than your mother, too."

Tommy let out a startled laugh that built until he sank and cackled against the floor.

"I've got grislier stories than that, if she requires."

After a minute, the boy recovered himself enough to sit upright again. Already, he grinned a lot brighter.

They were safe. His parents were safe. They would go home from the party untainted and then Mrs. Greene would stomp the idea flat before anything else could happen.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I think so." He peeled the ice pack off his head and she took it from his hand.

"Well," she said, "I'll tell the Hastings I'm indisposed for the evening. We can have dinner just the two of us. Is that alright?"

Tommy watched her bend back over to open the freezer drawer again. When he didn't respond, she turned and caught his gaze.

Another wicked grin crept across her face. She pushed the drawer back in and moved carefully back toward him, her hips swaying dangerously with every step.

"And... my gentleman friend. Would it be alright if he still came to visit after?" she asked, slinking back across the kitchen.

The pulsating beat against his lap faltered. His stomach seemed to drop.

"Oh," he said, struggling to swallow. "Yeah. I can go for a walk or something. I can... get dinner, if want more time with him," he went on, looking back to her heels again as she crept ever closer.

She took his chin in her hands and once more turned his face toward hers.

"I didn't just mean for me," she said carefully.

Tommy blinked back at her. Somehow, these people still took him by surprise.

"I started thinking on the drive home," she went on. "Thinking of you two sweet, beautiful men holding down with those big strong arms."

She stroked her hand against his bicep. "Holding me helplessly between you both, fucking me from both ends. Using me like a little toy," she purred, her hands trailing down his chest. "I'd like that very much, Tommy."

Pre-cum spilled out against his thigh as she held her eyes on his.

"Do you think," he started to say. His voice caught for a moment. Already, he could feel his cheeks beginning to blush painfully.

The day already looked a lot brighter, now that she had taken care of the problems with his parents, knowing that he could hide away here until it had all blown over. He could be spending every night with her mouth between his legs. He would be totally free, like a proper adult. And living with a beautiful, insatiable woman.

The weight of the last few weeks had fallen off so quickly. And the relief of it made him bold.

"Do you think any others would want to join?"

It was her turn to blink in surprise. "Really?"

He gave a small shrug. "You have more than two holes," he said lamely.

"How many others are you wanting?"

"How many could you get?" he asked with a grin, sounding cockier than he felt.

"More than my bed can hold," she replied, with a trace of a grin. "You're bluffing."

Tommy shrugged again, knowing she was right. He glanced around the living room. "I could move the furniture out of the way. I could drag your mattress out to the middle here," he said, gesturing toward the carpet.

"If I start making calls, it'll be too late to back out," she warned.

"It's your body that's going to be sore," he said, trying to sound indifferent. "How many have you been with at once before?"

"At once? Two. Two men, at least. I still have a bit of my virtue left, you know," she said, giving him a playful slap against his wrist. "But I doubt it's just me that's going to be sore, once they see your tight little body," she added, pinching him on the cheek. "Mmph."

"I don't know too many who might interested in this sort of thing, though" she went on, dialing out the first number. "But I know a few ladies who do."

The comment left Tommy a bit confused. Couples interested in orgies seemed to include everyone she knew.

But, a few hours later, as the afternoon faded and guests began to arrive, he pieced it together.

Two men in their forties were the first to appear, before she'd even started making drinks. Tommy hauled furniture around, putting the final touches on the place, as they kissed her hello.

"These nice young men live downstairs," Mrs. Greene informed him as she handed out cocktails. Tommy, however, was handed a Sprite. "They were gracious enough to help me move my husband's soiled furniture out to the garbage."

"She tipped us well for our trouble," one of them laughed.

She drank quickly as she filled more glasses, and others soon began to appear. They left the front door open, and people popped in with a wave like old friends.

They were all in their twenties, or thirties, or forties. They were all rather attractive. There were seven of them, by the end. And they were all men.

She wasn't alone long enough for Tommy to pull her aside and explain. He had expected couples. Or at least a fair number of women. He hadn't meant to plan... this.

The lights had been off when Tommy and Mrs. Greene had arrived that afternoon, with sunlight bathing the whole apartment through the high windows. And, as the day crept closer to evening, no one bothered to turn the lights on. Little by little, the men became just shapes in the darkness.

Tommy loaded another tray of drinks. Cocktails had long since turned to shots. Some were just drinking straight from bottles they had brought themselves, and their crooked grins flashing out in the gloom.

It was Mrs. Greene that finally started things off, grabbing Tommy by the arm and handing his tray out for another to take.

She kissed him, and he slipped his tongue between her lips. The chatter died away, and the room went still. He felt the eyes turn toward him for the second time that day.

His hands wound their way around her wrists, and then he gripped them tighter. With a gentle push, she toppled backward onto the mattress, with him on top of her. The crowd chuckled and gave a soft clap as they watched.

Her legs wrapped around Tommy's hips, and locked together tightly as she ground herself against his lap. Her dress spilled open as she worked, revealing a white cotton thong clutched between her lips. It seemed to glow against the dim lighting.

His hands ripped her dress down below her bra, snapping one of the thin straps that held it. He clawed at her breasts with animal need. She sucked against his tongue with equal fervor, and dragged the lips of her cunt against the length of him.

Someone stripped the shirt from his back without a word. A moment later, her bra had vanished, pulled into the crowd. He pressed his head between her tits as he continued to paw at them with maddening need. By the time he came up for air, another man's mouth had found hers. Another held her close, and eased himself down to the floor beside her. More were undressing themselves as they watched the show.

A wave of hands stretched out, grabbing for any flesh they could reach along her skin. But they were gentle, and they seemed to take great care as they groped at her. There was no fighting as the first of them slid into her mouth.

Hands softly pushed at Tommy's body, easing him onto his side, and then to his back. Half a dozen arms lifted her onto him, the cock in her mouth somehow never slipping free as she turned. Hands fed Tommy's cock into her. He moaned hard as they pressed him in deeper, burying him into her warm, loving grip.

Mrs. Greene was taller than most women, but she didn't have Tommy's height. Instead of finding himself beneath her face, his head slipped between the knees of the man in her throat.

Drops of drool ran down the woman's chin, splattering against Tommy's neck as the man pounded away. And every few strokes, the man sank too low, and his furry little sack dragged across the boy's lips.

After the first few brushes, Tommy's tongue spilled out on instinct, stroking the man's balls as he thrust. He could feel the man's quiver from the touch.

After a moment, the sack grew tense, bunching together tightly, and the pounding stopped. With a howl of pleasure that sent the crowd cheering, the man spilled his load into Mrs. Greene's mouth. Tommy heard the eager noises she made as she gulped down the load.

Then something made Tommy jump. A finger, perhaps, had dragged the length between his ass. Then a tongue stroked up against his sack, even as Mrs. Greene continued to ride him. Looking down into the dark wall of bodies, he couldn't see who it was. The finger came back, and lingered. The tongue dragged from his sack to Mrs. Greene again, and then again. Another man kneeled up to her mouth, replacing the last one. Tommy's tongue came out again to greet the man just the same.

With a hairy sack between his lips, Mrs. Greene's nipples stroking against his body, a finger digging against his hole, and a tongue running up his shaft as the tip was squeezed to bursting by her tight cunt, it was suddenly too much for the boy. It was too much sensation. His mind seemed to burst at the seams.

Tommy bucked against the mattress. Mrs. Greene squeezed him tighter from the inside and began to ride harder than ever. The finger by his ass drove in as the boy blew his load.

A round of cheers rang out across the room as he howled and writhed beneath the touch of so many others. Mrs. Greene pounded harder against him, milking out the last drops with ruthless efficiency, filling the room with the sound of wet clapping skin.