The Good Neighbour Ch. 02

Chapter Two -- Abigail Thompson

Now...

Steven Balfour was sitting at the desk in his bedroom staring intently at the computer screen where an attractive mature woman dressed in a business suit was bent over an office table being fucked by a young man. The man had kicked her heels apart and was holding her down on the desk with her skirt hiked up, her pantyhose ripped and her panties pulled aside while he fucked her. She was struggling to get free, writhing and bucking as the boy fucked her against her will.

The storyline went that a son was violating his mother. But they were really only actors in a porn video and he knew that it would soon be spoiled for him when the woman suddenly began to enjoy what was happening to her and let her son undress her and then she would give herself willingly to him.

He wanted to come before that happened. He loved that the mature woman was tastefully dressed and that her 'son' was fucking her while she was fully clothed. He loved the silky sheer pantyhose she was wearing and that her satin knickers had been pulled aside and not removed. Most of all he loved the expression of surprise and indignation that the 'mother' had on her face as her 'son' held her down and ravaged her.

Steven had the leg of a pair of his auntie's pantyhose over his cock and a pair of her soiled panties over his face. He looked quite ridiculous with the crotch of the panties on his nose and his eyes looking through the leg holes but he didn't care. He couldn't see himself and even if he could, the tang of his aunt's vaginal secretions and the silky feel of her pantyhose on his rampant phallus were all that he cared about.

Steven was usually very careful, double-checking that the door was locked before he rummaged in his stash of hosiery and lingerie to find suitable items to masturbate with while he watched pornography on the computer or just lay on the bed stroking himself, thinking about either his aunt or Miz Abigail Thompson, the next door neighbour.

But today he hadn't locked the door. He was in too much of a rush. His Aunt Beatrice had tortured him all evening.

She hadn't physically tortured him of course, but it had come close to that in Steven's opinion.

Beatrice knew what she was doing that evening. She'd had a lot to drink but that was no excuse. She was still dressed in the clothes she had worn to a meeting with her investment banker. A navy blue business suit, the skirt of which she'd had tailored so that the hem sat mid-thigh, a sheer nylon pink blouse, flesh-toned fifteen-denier sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, red full-cut satin panties and matching bra and a pair of shiny black Jimmy Choo high heels.

She'd turned heads in the streets and in the bank and when her investment banker took her to a late lunch she'd let him feel her up. She teased him during lunch by opening the top two buttons of her blouse and letting her skirt hike up while she sat at the table. He'd fondled her buttocks and tried to kiss her in the lift but she turned her head away from him. She did let him squeeze and stroke her bum and caress her tits, she even gave his cock a quick squeeze through his trousers but she pushed him away just before the lift arrived at the ground floor.

Beatrice had drunk nearly a full bottle of champagne at lunch and was more that a little tipsy when she climbed into the taxi to go home, she gave the driver a panty-flash getting in and out of the car and talked incessantly all the way.

She was randy and feeling quite naughty when she got home and after tormenting the banker and the taxi driver she was up for some serious teasing and Steven Balfour was the obvious victim.

She kept drinking and made Steven sit next to her on the couch on the pretext of telling her how his day had been. She kicked off one heel and rubbed her toes.

"Be a love and rub auntie's toes for me please Stevie," Beatrice thrust her nylon-clad foot into the boy's lap.

Steven was already enamoured by the scent of his aunt's perfume and now the delectable fragrance of her foot joined the heady miasma. He nervously touched her silken-sheathed foot and began to stoke it, the bright-red nailpolish on her toes visible through the dark gauzy reinforced toe of the stocking.

Steven was hard and leaking precum into his underwear, he was glad that he was wearing baggy trousers that hid his erection.

"Mm that's lovely, squeeze them a little harder honey, give my feet a good massaging, there's a good boy," she lay back on the lounge and lifted up her other foot.

"Come on Stevie, take off my shoe and rub both my feet," Beatrice wriggled her feet in Steven's lap.

She sucked on her scotch and soda, amused by her nephew's nervousness and excitement.

Steven slowly took off Beatrice's other high heel and stroked her feet, the silky nylon's caress against her warm skin felt so wonderful. Beatrice sighed and pretended to close her eyes but she watched with growing delight the look of wonderment on her nephew's face as he played with her feet.

Beatrice's skirt had ridden up, she had taken off her jacket before sitting down and Steven had a perfect view of her red satin panties and her bra through the sheer nylon blouse. He liked his aunt's tits but it was her legs that fascinated him. His eyes roamed up her perfect calves to her heavenly thighs and finally to the red V of her panties covering that glorious place. The sensations of touching her nylon-sheathed feet, looking at her gossamer-clad legs and panty-crotch combined with the scent of her feet and perfume was almost too much. He was scared he was going to come in his underpants.

"Let auntie freshen her drink and take a wee," Beatrice suddenly lifted her legs from his lap and got up from the lounge.

Steven didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed as he watched her walk away, her skirt still riding high on her thighs.

When she came back the torture worsened. She plonked her feet into his lap again and feigned sleep, letting her skirt remain high on her thighs and deliberately opening her legs a little.

Steven nearly did come in his pants this time when he looked up her skirt.

His aunt had taken off her knickers to piss but hadn't put them back on. He could see the outline of her pubis through the gusset of the sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose. He could just make out the cleft of her sex and see the little pink lips poking out of her labia majora. Auntie had a shaved fanny.

Steven stroked and caressed her feet while he gazed at her thighs and her cunt. His aunt moved and one of her legs and rubbed on his hard cock through his trousers. It was too much.

Steven pushed Beatrice's legs out of his lap and shot up from the lounge.

"I have to go to bed Aunt Beatrice, I have a big exam tomorrow," Steven lied and almost ran to the stairs.

And so he sat in the darkened room watching the young man fuck the mature women wearing her business suit and imagined it was he and his aunt.

He didn't hear the door open because he had his earbuds plugged into the PC but he became aware of his aunt's perfume just before she pressed against him.

"Shh," she whispered in his ear.

"Don't tell anyone and I wont either," she bit his earlobe and then nuzzled his neck.

He could feel her heavy breasts pushing into his back as she pressed herself against him. When he tried to turn his head she stopped him from doing so.

"Just look at the screen and pretend that it's us," she whispered and this time she put her tongue in his ear.

She reached around him and took his hand off his nylon-sheathed cock and replaced it with her own.

"You've been wanting me to do this for so long haven't you?" she kissed his cheek and began to stroke him.

Steven groaned and his cock erupted in his auntie's hand. He sprayed scalding hot semen all over her fingers as she continued to stoke him, extracting every last drop.

Then she turned his face to hers so he could watch her lick the sticky treat from her fingers.

And then he woke up.

He'd had a nocturnal emission, a wet dream.

The sheets were saturated with his messy sperm. He lay there trying to recall every scintilla of the dream, and his cock, which was becoming soft, immediately became erect again. He reached for the stocking he kept under his pillow and put it over his cock as he recalled every second of the evening's events.

In the room next door, Beatrice buried her head in the pillows to stifle her moans as she had her third orgasm in a row, the vibrator's faint buzzing muffled by the bedclothes.

She was recalling the evening's events too.

Of course she hadn't come into her nephew's room and tossed him off, that part was fantasy. But she had drunkenly teased him until he couldn't stand it any longer. She recalled the heat and girth of his cock pressing against her calf, the laboured breathing and rustling noises as she listened at his bedroom door hearing the sounds of him masturbating. She recalled putting her hand down inside her pantyhose so she could stroke herself as she watched him through the keyhole. Biting her lip to suppress a cry when she came just as he did, spattering his seed into her stockings as he masturbated with them, breathing heavily into her panties draped over his face.

This was becoming too dangerous. Her nephew was nineteen, so technically an adult, but what they were doing was very close to incest. She needed Steven to shift his desire onto another woman. And she had the perfect candidate living right next door.

Then...

Robert Brinkley took on a job working construction in Chelmsford. He never showed up for a single day's work; it was a sham job because the company was owned by an associate of Larry 'The Loop' Connelly. This allowed Robert to go straight back to his old job, being Larry's minder and enforcer.

One of the first things Robert did when he got out prison was to visit a prostitute. He asked her to dress in suspenders, stockings and heels and put on heavy makeup; he tried to make her look as much like Mary Reynolds as possible. Whilst she was a good shag, he thought about Mary the whole time he was fucking her. He even gave her an extra fifty quid so he could take her up the wrong 'un, but it wasn't the same.

Mary put a profile up on transvestite dating site and sure enough Robert made contact with her. Murray reported as much to Barry Pinkerton and they began to finalise their plan. Mary would get close to Robert now that they were outside the nick. She would find out when Larry Connelly's next big shipment was due to roll out of the lockup and Barry and a few of his thugs would steal the lot the night before it was due to be trucked out.

The plan was perfect.

It just wasn't Mary's plan.

She led Robert on, letting Robert come to Murray Reynolds little bedsit, dressing provocatively but refusing to give him more than foreplay and a blowjob.

"People will hear us. These walls are paper thin," Mary complained.

"And you don't want me to come to your place because you don't want your mates to know that you're shagging a tranny," she said petulantly.

Bizarrely, criminals believed it was ok to get blowjobs whilst locked up in prison so long as you only received and didn't pitch, and fucking a prison tranny was almost a badge of honour. But as soon as you got out if you did either of those things you were considered a fag.

"What about we get a hotel?" Robert asked.

"I'll either have to go as Murray and change there, or go as Mary and risk getting clocked. They'll think I'm a Tom because I won't be able to produce any documents that identify me as Mary," Mary said flatly.

Robert turned down his mouth. He hated knowing that underneath the gorgeous creature before him was Murray Reynolds.

"You can come to the lockup!" Robert beamed.

"Tomorrow night. There won't be anyone there, just me keeping guard overnight. Come late and dress sexy for me," Robert beamed.

"It's a date," Mary smiled and leaned in and kissed him.

The next day Mary cleaned everything out of the bedsit. All of it went in a skip except for Mary, soon to be Abigail's, wardrobe and her identity documents. Murray stole a car and parked it one street over from the bedsit and transformed from Murray to Mary for the last time.

"You look stunning love," Robert opened the pedestrian portal cut into the big steel sliding door at the front of the lockup.

Mary had decided to give Robert the farewell shag of his life and had dressed to the nines for him. She was wearing a black leather micro-miniskirt and jacket, a tight lilac satin blouse, sheer tan pantyhose, ridiculously high heels, heavy makeup and lots of jewellery. She reeked of perfume and Robert was hard for her as soon as he saw her.

Robert led her to a dingy office at the back of the cluttered warehouse and Mary took stock of the prestige cars, the stockpiled antique furniture and other expensive booty that was about to be smuggled overseas.

The office was small but at least there was an old couch that they could use as a bed. Mary was carrying a small clutch purse, which she put on a side table before she took off her jacket and pounced on Robert. He leaned back in the lounge while Mary straddled him, kissing him passionately and pressing herself against him. It felt like Mary had real breasts but he guessed correctly that they were breastforms. Mary worked her tongue into Robert's mouth and crushed her lips against his. His hands went under her skirt and massaged her buttocks through layers of satin and nylon.

Mary could feel Robert's hard cock pressing into her through his jeans and she hopped off him and got on her knees on the floor, her head between his legs.

"What are you doing?" Robert smiled at her.

"What do you think I'm doing?" she smiled up at him and slowly unzipped him.

When his cock sprang free of his underwear she gobbled it up, working her lips up and down the shaft, slurping at his phallus as Robert threw back his head and groaned. He put his hands on her head and guided her face up and down on his hard cock while Mary slavered at the pulsing phallus. She put her hand inside her panties and pantyhose and freed her own cock and stroked it to full tumescence.

"Come on honey fuck me! It's been so long," Mary leapt on the couch, kneeling on it and presenting her backside for Robert, who wasted no time stripping off his clothes and moving in behind her.

Her bottom was perfectly presented for him at just the right height for him to mount. He lifted Mary's skirt and gazed at her perfect buttocks clad in red satin panties and shimmering pantyhose. He pulled the panty-gusset aside and her glistening puckered hole looked perfectly inviting. She was obviously well lubricated. He poked a fingernail into the gauzy pantyhose gusset and made a cock-sized hole.

Mary sighed when Robert slid himself inside her all the way. He gripped her hips and ground himself against her and she pushed back against him.

"Fuck me, you fucker!" she growled.

Robert did as he was told, holding her hips tightly he began to work his cock in and out of her tight anus.

Mary moaned and cried with pleasure as Robert teased her with his big cock. He pulled it all of the way out of her and then pushed it all the way in, deliberately pressing his glans on her prostate and grinding it, building the tempo until she cried for release and then he backed off and slowed down preventing both of them from climaxing.

"Fuck me! Fuck me and come in me! Fill me with your spunk!" Mary gyrated her buttocks, urging Robert on.

"Ok honey are you ready?" he leaned in and turned her face to his and kissed her.

She nodded.

Robert spun Mary over so that she was on her back. He wanted to see her pretty face while he fucked her and he wanted to see her come.

He started with long slow strokes and Mary wrapped her nylon-sheathed thighs around his waist and pulled him all the way into her. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him and raked her heels along his flanks.

"Fuck me! Make me come!" she hissed.

Robert increased the speed and power of his strokes. Mary's cock was poking out the front of her panties; it was fully erect; huge, bigger than his even. Globules of precum dripped from the eye and it looked ready to explode, which was just as well because Robert was ready to come.

He jackhammered his cock deep inside Mary and unleashed a torrent of hot semen, filling her anus with his seed. Mary moaned and her cock throbbed and gobbets of semen erupted from the swollen glans. Her semen flew everywhere as Robert continued to fuck her and Mary bucked under him, encouraging him to fuck her harder as the last of his spend dribbled from her sphincter.

Robert fell on top of her, oblivious to the sticky mess, he kissed her and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close to her with her legs. They were both panting and near exhaustion.

Eventually Mary scooted up the couch, having pulled her panties back into place and pulled down her skirt, and Robert lay beside her. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Robert didn't even feel the sting of the needle as it pierced his flesh. He just went into a deeper sleep.

"Sorry honey," Mary kissed his cheek and then got to work.

It took her three full hours to search the lockup and pile together what she intended to steal. She conservatively estimated that she had about two million pounds worth of cash and jewellery. She put it in a carry bag that already contained the remainder of the cash she had taken from Barry Pinkerton's safe deposit box that afternoon.

There was no turning back now. Two of London's hardest criminals would be looking for Murray Reynolds and would not stop until they found him. Barry might even suspect that Murray would disguise himself as Mary for a while and go looking for her too.

Neither of them would be looking for Abigail Thompson.

Now...

Abigail Thompson had moved into her quaint two-story cottage in the neat little town of Brookhaven in Cornwall about a year ago. Her back-story was that she was a spinster who had got tired of the noise and bustle of London. She'd inherited her family's estate, sold the house and land, made a good chunk of money and could afford to move into her own home. Having no parents or brothers and sisters meant that she didn't have many visitors and as she was new to the area she hadn't made many friends yet.

Not that she needed to use her backstory very often because she kept mostly to herself.

The real story was that Abigail Thompson had risen form the ashes of Mary Reynolds like a phoenix. She had jetted off into Asia after first spreading most of the stolen cash across her new bank accounts and putting the reminder and some of the jewellery into a safe deposit box to which she had the only key.

She took a risk and took some of the jewellery with her and was able to sell it for about fifty percent of its value to a fence in Manila. She stayed in the Makati Diamond Residences for a week before she checked into a reputable hospital and had a nice set of c-cup breasts surgically implanted. She also had some facial reconstructive surgery which further feminised her features but she was careful not to change her face to the extent that her passport would become invalid.

Abigail spent another two months in the Philippines fully recovering from her surgeries before she returned to the UK, bought herself a nice car and drove down to the house she had bought in Brookhaven.

Abigail was happy to be a loner, she made a few friends and had a nodding acquaintance with her next door neighbour, Beatrice McLennan. She was well aware that the people in the small town gossipped about her. Why wouldn't they? An attractive mature single woman buys a house in the small town and moves in unannounced. She keeps mostly to herself but really isn't unsociable; she takes a drink in the local pub now and then and uses the local shops. But isn't there something strange about her?