The Good Neighbour Ch. 03

Abigail leaned away from the kiss and Beatrice frowned.

"Sorry. Too much too soon?" Beatrice's eyes were welled with tears.

"No. Please don't. You will be revolted with me if we continue," Abigail sighed.

Beatrice looked confused.

Abigail took Beatrice's hand and put it under her skirt.

Beatrice's juices began to flow in expectation of finding an equally hot and wet vulva inside Abigail's panties but when she found an erect penis held in place by the gusset of Abigail's pantyhose and panties she instinctively shrieked and whipped her hand away.

Abigail turned away distraught. She started to cry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll leave," Abigail took a step towards the door before Beatrice reached out and pulled her back.

Beatrice pulled Abigail close and crushed her lips against hers. Beatrice's hand snaked under Abigail's skirt and she squeezed the rampant phallus she found encased in nylon and satin. It felt nice and hard.

"I knew there was something about you that was different but I just couldn't put my finger on it," Beatrice smiled mischievously.

"Well you seem to have your finger on it now," Abigail smiled back and leaned in and kissed Beatrice passionately.

"You're going to tell me all about how this came to be... but not now. Right now I have an itch that needs to be scratched and you have just the equipment to do it," Beatrice began to hurriedly strip off her blouse, bra and skirt.

Abigail followed suit and both women were left clad only in pantyhose, panties and high heels. Beatrice held Abigail out at arms-length and gazed at her. She had a wonderful figure for a woman her age and her small but perfect breasts seemed to defy both age and gravity. The long, thick appendage bulging the front of Abigail's panties held the promise of a present yet to be unwrapped and Beatrice ached to feel it inside her.

Similarly Abigail contemplated Beatrice's body and was very satisfied with what she saw. Beatrice was a little older and although Beatrice worked hard at keeping fit, age has taken its toll a little. Her skin was still smooth and alabaster white but her ample breasts had succumbed to gravity and had sagged just a little, her nipples were like plump ripe berries surrounded by dark areola. She had a little potbelly but was by no means fat, her legs were long and lithe, defined by the sheer flesh-toned nylons and her ample buttocks was firm. Abigail longed to feel those long legs clad in shimmering hose wrapped around her.

"I'm the real woman but you have the better body; how does that work?" Beatrice said and then regretted it immediately.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said such a callous thing," Beatrice looked absolutely distressed.

Abigail just smiled at her friend's unintentional faux pas and pulled Beatrice into her arms. Abigail brushed at Beatrice's fringe with her fingertips and gazed into her brown eyes. She lovingly stroked her finger down Beatrice's cheek and softly traced the outline of her lips, and then caressed the hollow of her neck.

"You are beautiful Beatrice. Now I think we should just stop talking and see where this takes us. We can talk later," Abigail's hand continued its journey down Beatrice's body, stopping briefly to elicit a gasp when she tweaked Beatrice's nipples and then a gasp when she found the cleft between Beatrice's legs.

Beatrice mimicked her lover, she reached out and caressed Abigail's breasts, feeling the heft of them briefly and then gently tweaking her nipples. It was Abigail's turn to gasp as Beatrice slowly worked her hands down Abigail's tight belly to the curve of her pubis. She could see the little wet patch on the front of Abigail's panties where pre-ejaculate was pooling. Beatrice dipped her finger in the little puddle of translucent elixir and bought it to her lips. She dabbed at it with her tongue and smiled wickedly at Abigail.

Abigail responded by pressing a finger into the gusset of Beatrice's panties which were sodden with vaginal secretions. She bought the moistened digit to her nose and inhaled her lover's aroma and then sucked on it.

Both women smiled wantonly.

They pressed their bodies together and kissed, tongues entwined and fingers deep in each other's loins. Abigail put her hand inside Beatrice's panties and dragged a long fingernail across the gusset of her pantyhose until it snagged and then she tore out the gusset and slipped two fingers into Beatrice's hot moist cleft. She pushed her fingers inside Beatrice's vagina and pressed her thumb on Beatrice's clitoris. Beatrice shuddered and groaned lewdly.

Beatrice was stroking Abigail's steely hard phallus through her panties and pantyhose but she wanted to feel the flesh in her hand. She tore a hole that was just big enough to extract Abigail's penis through her pantyhose and squeezed the woman's throbbing appendage.

"If you don't put me inside you soon I'm going to come on your belly," Abigail sighed.

"Then let's not waste it," Beatrice sighed into Abigail's sweet mouth.

Beatrice allowed herself to be lowered onto the bed, the two lovers remaining locked in their embrace. Abigail climbed between Beatrice's legs and Beatrice guided Abigail's penis inside her panties and placed the rampant appendage inside the folds of her sex.

Abigail looked deeply into Beatrice's eyes and Beatrice smiled and nodded. Abigail pressed forward and felt the velvety warm wetness of Beatrice's vagina envelop her hard cock. Beatrice sensed Abigail's tumescence fill her and she lifted her legs and wrapped them around Abigail's torso, locking their bodies together. Neither of them moved, they kissed softly, basking in the delectable sensations of Abigail's pulsating appendage filling Beatrice's tight wet void. Their pleasure was heightened by the tactility of their breasts kneading together and luxurious sensuality of the caress of their nylon-clad legs and panty-clad pubises.

Beatrice wrapped her arms around Abigail and began to rock beneath her. Abigail kissed her deeply and began to slowly thrust in time with her lover. They built up the pace slowly, both wanting to experience the other climax, but neither wanting to hurry. They enjoyed each other's bodies as they ground and rubbed against each other delighting in the awe-inspiring sensations of cock buried in cunt, breast pressing on breast, nylon-clad calf rubbing on silken-sheathed thigh. The ambrosial amalgam of stimulating sensations was bringing them closer to release.

As their climaxes approached they clung to each other and shuddered and writhed with pleasure, their lips crushed together and tongues intertwined as Abigail thrust deeply into Beatrice and released. Beatrice felt Abigail's cock convulse inside her and her own orgasm washed over her with a wave of delight. She moaned and ground her vulva against Abigail's pelvis to elicit indescribable pleasure from her clitoris as her vagina contracted and extracted every drop of semen from Abigail's pulsating cock.

The held each other tight, long after they had both descended from their euphoric climaxes. They mewed, caressed and kissed, eventually kicking off their heels and sliding under the sheets until their passions arose once again and then they made love a second time.

***

Steven was fantasising about the two women, as he stood secluded, or so he thought, in the clearing at the back of Abigail's garden, wanking into his auntie's stocking. He didn't know what made him look up at the window overlooking the garden but he did. At first he was terrified that his aunt and neighbour had been watching him masturbate using their underwear but he became awestruck as he realised that they weren't watching him because they were kissing each other. Then they began to undress each other.

Steven thought he was dreaming. He quickly pulled up his trousers and ducked behind a hedge but the two women were too engrossed with each other to take any notice of him. He took out his bird-watching binoculars and focussed them on the window.

It couldn't be... but it was! His fantasy was being played out before him. The two sexy, beautiful women were naked above the waist and locked in embrace.

He wanted to take his cock out right there and masturbate but there was a much better option. He grabbed his shirt and raced next door to his aunt's house and kicked off his shoes before he carefully opened the front door. He padded silently up the stairs and nimbly approached his aunt's bedroom on tippytoes.

He heard the muffled groans of desire and then he lowered his eye to the keyhole. He freed his penis from his trousers and ejaculated as he watched the two gorgeous women caress each other. As he wiped his sticky fingers with his handkerchief and continued to watch.

What he saw next was confusing and amazing. The beautiful woman who lived next door and whom he so desired had a penis! He nearly fainted. He watched his aunt allow Abigail to fuck her with her cock. How could she! He felt betrayed, duped and disgusted. He had fantasised about a woman who wasn't really a woman!

He snuck back downstairs and out of the house and returned to his neighbour's garden. He angrily hacked at the hedges and undergrowth, slicing through ornamental hedges, flowerbeds and weeds alike. His mind was racing but he couldn't expel the pictures in his head of his aunt and the woman who wasn't a woman fucking each other dressed only in panties, pantyhose and high heels. It was like the videos he had seen on the internet but it was his aunty and the neighbour he adored. He couldn't help but pull out the stocking and panties from his haversack and seek release again but he felt disgusted with himself when he finished.

"Fucking bitches!" he sobbed as he pulled up his pants and pushed the semen soaked nylon back into his satchel.

***

So where does a young man go when he feels betrayed and sorry for himself? Down the pub of course.

Stephen Balfour had been drinking heavily on his own for a couple hours in the Boar's Head, Crookhaven's only pub. He was so preoccupied with his own troubles and tribulations that he failed to notice the handsome, heavyset man who was taking more than a passing interest in him.

Robert Brinkley had never stopped searching for Mary Reynolds. He wanted to recover the money and jewellery that Mary had stolen from the lockup but most of all he sought retribution. Mary had left him holding the bag when Larry discovered that he had been robbed of nearly two million pounds worth of cash and jewellery.

Robert Brinkley had had to invent a story to cover the fact that Mary Reynolds had drugged him in the dingy office in the back of the cluttered warehouse where he was supposed to guarding Barry's loot. Robert had claimed that he had been napping and someone had broken into the lockup and drugged him while he was asleep. He'd had to create a 'crime scene' to support his story.

Robert was very lucky that he was still able to walk or even still alive for that matter, Larry usually dished out vengeance quickly and violently to anyone who let him down. Robert was lucky that Larry had a soft spot for him and let him off with a beating that had put him hospital but Larry had made it quite clear that there were no statute of limitations on Murray Reynolds crimes or on Robert's culpability. After six months had gone by Robert told Larry that he had exhausted all his resources attempting to find Murray Reynolds and that he believed Murray had fled overseas and assumed a new identity and would never be found. Larry reluctantly accepted the premise and made contact with his colleagues in Europe to start searching for Murray Reynolds.

This allowed Robert to try and track down Mary Reynolds by himself. He believed she was hiding somewhere in the UK under another identity.

It had taken Robert over a year to finally track down John Benstead, forger and counterfeiter for mob boss Tony Carlotta. Because John Benstead worked for Tony he was untouchable. His beautiful transsexual wife Candi Pops, the senior cabin staff instructor with Goldwing Airlines, was also untouchable because she too worked for Tony. Her bevy of airline hostesses was smuggling in contraband, so he couldn't even threaten her to get to John Benstead.

Instead, Robert Brinkley went to see Tony Carlotta and told him of his plight and offered to give Tony a substantial cut of whatever money he recovered if he leaned on John Benstead to give up Mary Reynolds' new identity.

John Benstead was not happy to have to give up Abigail Thompson's identity but he had no choice, he was Tony's man so he did as he was told. He gave Robert Brinkley her name and a passport sized photograph of her. The address he had used on her driver's licence was fake so it was useless. John had no idea where she lived.

A search of the reverse phone book, social media and internet sites for the name Abigail Thompson revealed literally thousands of names which would take forever to follow up. The passport photograph was too small to be of any real use until he tracked her down and she may have changed her appearance again anyway. It was also likely that Abigail had fled overseas but for some reason he doubted it.

Robert stared intently at the picture, the person looking back at him was the woman he knew as Mary Reynolds but with black hair; those beautiful green eyes captivated him still.

So between working as a standover man and debt collector for Larry Connelly, Robert put his every spare hour into finding Abigail Thompson. Robert paid a minion in the MOT to search the drivers licence database for the women named Abigail Thompson aged between thirty and forty years old. It had cost him a considerable sum and he was provided with a list of nearly one hundred names. What he really wanted was to look at the drivers licence photographs but the minion didn't have the access, all he could provide was a list of addresses. Robert had first travelled to Northern Ireland and Scotland where there were very few Abigail Thompsons and eliminated the women from his search, then he started working the English Counties. He had worked his way through half the list when he arrived at the tidy little village of Brookhaven in Cornwall.

It was hard to be discreet in such a small community so he decided to sit in the pub and listen to the locals gossip and see what he could glean.

"What's wrong with the lad; he's standing there like one o'clock half struck," Robert asked the barman as he waited for his pint to be refilled.

"Dunno; first time I've seen him in here. I do know his mom ran away with some Aussie bloke and abandoned him and he lives with his Aunt in the big house down the road," the barman pulled on the lever, pouring the cask ale into the glass.

"If I was his age and living with a woman like that I wouldn't give a toss about me mom. That Beatrice McLennan is a right sort for her age, big tits, nice legs, great arse, I bet the young fella wanks himself stupid," the barman grunted.

"Then he's got the next door neighbour to perv on. She's even better looking and dresses like a right doxy, I'd give her one in a heartbeat. Abigail something-or-the-other," the barman let go of the hand-pump lever.

"Is that her?" Robert put the passport photo down on the bar.

To be continued

Author's note Comments and criticism are always welcome and I always reply to messages sent to me from Literotica, sometimes with a picture or two ; )