The Good Neighbors Ch. 16

The night was passing in a blur. The sun had gone down, leaving only the street lights outside the window to light the room.

Mrs. Greene stood out for a moment amongst the writhing flesh; her soft, pale body being pulled to and fro as men made their claim. She vanished once more back into the pile of bodies. Men grappled and moaned in the darkness around her.

Tommy was laying across a footrest, watching it all. His hands were held firmly behind his back. Someone pumped their fingers inside the boy's asshole, making him writhe. First it was one finger, then two, then three... The fingers pressed in slowly, then ground around to feel out the boy's insides.

Tommy squeezed the muscles of his body, holding the fingers still for a moment. With a small shudder and a cry, the boy released his grip. Pre-cum bubbled from his cock, making his already glistening shaft drip to the floor. His toes quivered against the ground, too sweaty to find purchase.

A hand wounds its way through Tommy's hair, gripping his head tight and pulling his face upward. The boy opened his mouth on instinct, letting his tongue loll out, ready to gag on whatever he was given. But it was only a drink that slid down his tongue.

He swallowed it down quickly. It took a moment for him to feel that the texture of it was strange. Then the sharp burn of alcohol hit him.

It was like drinking fingernail polish. He coughed until the pain of it was gone. The stranger pulled at Tommy's hair again, lifting him up for another drink. With his arms behind his back, there wasn't any fighting it. Tommy gulped it down just the same.

When the third pour came, he was eager for it. He slurped it quickly, then lifted his head again, ready for another.

After that, the last traces of inhibition melted from him, like wriggling out of old skin. He was reborn into something new. Something wild. He surrendered to the bodies around him, and they pulled him eagerly in.

But no matter how they used his body, or how near the edge they came, they never spilled their seed inside the boy. And they never drove Tommy too far to the edge that he couldn't be pulled back. A tight grip and a minute or two of steady breathing and the danger would pass.

For this evening, their spunk had become something divine. Something hallowed. Every drop was for their goddess, and for her alone. It didn't matter where. On her or in her, it was all the same. But it was all hers.

The second time Tommy came, he had found Mrs. Greene just in time. She was gasping for air, her face red and blotchy. She was held aloft by two men, her head hanging toward him.

Her body rolled and shook to a steady beat, her eyes lost in a foggy daze. After a moment, Tommy saw why. A third man held her legs wide and pounded himself between them. She grunted with every stroke of the man's cock; a low and raspy noise, sounding hardly conscious.

Tommy set his hands tenderly on her cheeks, holding her still for a moment. Her eyes began to focus, and searched out his face. As her eyes locked on his, he forced his own meat between her lips. Then he grabbed her by the hair to hold her still.

He bucked hard against her mouth, then pulled himself out as he came. She shut her eyes tight as the load splattered across her chin and neck.

The crowd cheered. Another man took Tommy's place.

Three drinks more, and Tommy was wrapped around the legs of another man. They had both collapsed to the sidelines. They laid on their sides, and Tommy lapped at the man's ass with desperate need. Another body in the dark tried to rouse the man's cock back to life. Another kissed his way around the man's chest.

The man moaned hard with pleasure each time the boy's tongue pressed deeper in. His rim tried to grip back against Tommy's tongue. But he was too drunk or too helplessly spent to do any more than lie there and take it.

And then Mrs. Greene was there, stroking her hand across their pile of sweaty bodies. Tommy saw her eyes find his. The mattress behind her was empty now. The others had all fallen off to the side, opting to have a drink and watch the show instead.

Tommy lifted her in one arm and carried her back to the stage, laying her down gently in the center of the mat. She was his alone now, glowing in the dim light like some fallen angel.

His eyes ran down her body slowly, taking her all in. The rim of her ass pulsated and spat, smearing the insides of her cheeks with thick, white seed. The hairs of her cunt were glued tight to her skin. Her hair was torn free from its bun. It was wild in some spots, and clumped and wet from spunk in others. Her muscles trembled terribly as she watched him. Her mouth hung open and panted for air.

Tommy rolled her over quickly. The sides of her were flaked with dried cum. As he moved her into place, his hands brushed against her back. The mess was still wet with fresh seed, and it stuck to his fingers as he mounted her.

He wasn't gentle. He pounded against her flank with selfish need until she collapsed. There was nothing left on her skin to defile. He emptied himself inside of her instead, wrapping his arms around her, holding her still as he rocked out the last drops.

When he was done, she turned, panting, and kissed him. Her eyes had a far-away look in them, but she grinned, and great white bubbles of cum bloomed from her lips. She laid her head back down and let it spill onto the mattress.

After a moment, another man laid down beside them, wrapping his large arms around them both. Tommy glanced around at the others in the room. They were all either dozing or nearly there. He pressed himself close to her body. The slick of sweat across his chest melted the crusting spunk along her back, turning her skin as slick as oil. He fell promptly asleep with his cheek against hers.

The sound of moving bodies and running water occasionally roused him back awake. Each time, he was asleep against a moment later.

When the first rays of morning light came through the open windows, Tommy lifted his head and looked around. The other man around Mrs. Greene was still asleep, and another stranger was snoring on the couch. But all the rest had all cleared out sometime in the night.

Tommy shut his eyes again. When he opened them again, he was all alone. He was on his back against the mattress, laying naked in the open air. Somehow, the fabric of the mat was still damp around him.

The distant sound of the shower made him realize how badly he had to go to the bathroom. He rolled to his feet, and then regretted it terribly. Every muscle felt beaten raw. He vision spun dangerously. It felt like he had gained a few extra welts across his body, to join the one on his head. His asshole gave aching bolts of sensation every time he breathed, alternating between pain and raw pleasure.

He half-hobbled, half-crawled toward the open bathroom door, then collapsed against the wall as he emptied his bladder.

The sound of the curtain peeling back made him turn. Mrs. Greene was peeking her head out to find him. She looked as lively as ever, utterly unchanged by the evening's events.

"Good morning, Tommy." She smiled, looking him over critically. "You better come in once you're done. Clarence here is nearly finished."

She peeled back the curtain a bit further, and a man's bald head rose into view.

"Five more minutes," Clarence purred, running his tongue up the woman's neck.

Mrs. Greene gave a sigh, and the man descended once more.

Tommy slipped in through to the other side of the tub. Hot water beat down across the boy's sore muscles as he watched the man work.

Clarence slipped between her legs with long tender strokes of his tongue; his large hands caressed at her as he moved. With her hands gripped tight, she clutched the towel rack above her until the muscles of arms swelled. Her body bucked against the wall, pumping herself against the man's mouth.

Tommy watched it all with quickening breath. His cock gave a few attempts to spasm to life as he drank it all in, but it didn't get far.

When his five minutes were up, Mrs. Greene's face had grown bright red, but Clarence was sent back home all the same.

Once they were alone, she ordered Tommy's hands in the air. She scrubbed him down with a soapy cloth, and cleaned out every nook and cranny until he was rubbed raw.

It was eight by the time they both slipped back into the kitchen. They were wrapped in white robes, and clean, but Tommy was no less exhausted then when he had gone to bed the night before. He leaned hard against the kitchen well and watched as Mrs. Greene made them both coffee.

"I think we'll take it standing, if you don't mind," she told him. "I don't think either of us will want to be sitting for awhile." She gave a quick glance back toward the living room. "And I'm afraid we've nowhere clean left to sit. I'll have the cleaners over today."

Tommy watched her for a moment, debating how to phrase what he wanted to ask. "And how are you feeling?"

The older woman fluttered her eyelashes. "Like I should have taken some Aspirin beforehand. How are you?"

"My balls hurt. Like... they're empty." They seemed to pulsate with a dull ache ever since he'd woken up.

She laughed at that. "It was bound to happen eventually. Don't worry. You'll make plenty more soon, I'm sure."

"It was fun, though," he told her. "I liked watching it. I liked having all those-" He froze for a moment, his eyes growing wide. "Shit!" he bellowed.

He scrambled suddenly over to the living room and kicked things aside until he found his jeans. His phone pulled free from the pocket.

"I forgot to text my parents," he moaned. "I*-" He went silent again as his eyes scanned across the screen.

"What's wrong?"

"They texted me," he said after a moment, still reading through the messages. "They said they're going out for drinks with some friends."

There was a second message, a time stamp from two hours later. He read over it twice.

"Then they said not to wait up." He looked up at Mrs. Greene. "They don't know that I didn't come home last night."

The two of them watched each other in silence for a long moment.

"Well, surely they know by now," Mrs. Greene said. Her face was very still.

"Can I have a ride?" he asked, his voice tight. "I need to go home now."

"What's wrong, Tommy? What do you think happened?"

He couldn't explain it. He didn't want to. What happened was obvious. He shook his head.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Okay."

They changed quickly into the previous night's clothing, took the keys from the wall, and then they were off. They didn't speak again until she pulled up to the sidewalk outside his home.

"I'll wait for you here."

"No," Tommy told her. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

He opened his mouth to say more, but he didn't know what else to say. He slid out of the car and ran to his front door without another word.

The door was locked, but that wasn't unusual. He went inside, checking the rooms one by one -the kitchen, the basement, the bedrooms. All of them were empty. The beds were all still made. With one last frantic glance around the place, he ran back out the front door.

He was across the lawn in a moment, and he hammered out against the Hastings' door.

It took a few minutes, and a few more rounds of knocking, for the door to finally crack open. Mr. Hastings was there in a white robe, red cheeked, sweating, and looking surprised to see him. "Tommy? Good Lord. What's wrong?"

"Do you know where my parents are?"

Mr. Hastings shook his head. "No. What's happened? Are they alright?"

Tommy shook his head in return. He didn't know how to explain it. "Did they leave with anyone?"

"I don't know," the old man said, frowning. "Let me go get Mel."

Tommy followed the man down the hall. The sound of a creaking bed and gasping moans grew louder as they strode further in. As Mr. Hastings opened the door, Tommy saw why, and rolled his eyes. A boy, barely eighteen, was beaded in sweat and riding her from behind.

"Mel!" the old man shouted.

It took another shout for the woman to finally turn her head. But the boy riding her was too engrossed. Thankfully, he didn't last much longer.

Once Tommy had the Hastings to himself, and they were seated around him in the kitchen, he found he wasn't quite sure where to start. He cleared his throat a few times, and then pushed on.

"I need to know where my parents are," he said. "They never came home after your party. And they're still not home now."

They didn't seem very concerned, but he didn't want to explain any more than that. His brain skidded away from the thought every time he tried. He just needed to know where they went.

Just as he opened his mouth again, his phone chimed and broke his concentration. He pulled it from his pocket and looked down at the screen. Some unsaved number had message him. He held his breath as he opened it.

There was a photo. It was Kenneth, the man who'd pull him away from his parents and hit him in the face the night before. There he was again, starring right back out of the screen.

He was shirtless, sitting at the edge of a bed. His chest was freckled and tanned red. The muscles of his shoulders were round and tight. He was holding his middle finger at the camera for Tommy to see.

And there, just behind the man's shoulder, a familiar-looking woman was on the mattress beside him, holding her large, naked ass high in the air for all to see. The folds of her cunt were glistening, and her mat of pubes were soaked and sticky white from her excitement. Her head was bent low, buried between another woman's legs, hidden between them as they wrapped around her shoulders.

A text had followed after the message. "Wish you were here -Ken"

Below it, one final message. "aka... that MOTHERFUCKER :)"