Sylvan Courtyard: 3 Watch Together

Fair warning, this entry is the shortest in this whole series, and my shortest chapter in ages. It was originally supposed to be the intro to the next chapter. But I decided that it was too long, and deserved its own chapter.

----------

Sylvan Courtyard -- Three: Watching Together

----------

It was already late dusk by the time I managed to make it home to Sylvan Courtyard. The drive there through the woods is always a little hairy at that time of day, with the flat light washing out shadows from bumps or branches in the road and the lane lines not yet reflecting the headlights well. I was exhausted from a long day of running and re-running computer simulations with my real-world data, and the drive did nothing to fix that mental tiredness.

But I really had begun to think of Sylvan Courtyard as my home, with its isolated location and all the quirky friends I was beginning to make there, and as I stepped out of my truck in the nearly full parking lot, I felt myself rallying. The woods were that kind of loudly quiet you get in Appalachian forests. The sounds of civilization, voices, traffic, sirens, banging and clanging, and even trains, are absent in the evenings, but that deafening silence is filled with quiet nightbirds, the rustling of leaves, and creaking branches high up where the light wind moves them. And the numerous chirps of frogs and crickets. Sometimes, at certain times of the year, those chirps can be deafening, but tonight they were simply mellow background. The warm evening air was just warm enough to be comfortable, but cool enough to relax and invigorate me.

I let the atmosphere wash over me as I walked toward the entrance.

In the entrance lobby, I checked the bulletin board, but there was nothing new since I had looked it over that morning and I headed out into the courtyard. Refreshed though I might feel, I still had an appointment with a beer, some food, and a mindless hour or so with Fruit Ninja before an early bedtime.

As I stepped out into the courtyard, I saw my neighbor Rhonda sitting out by the pool, by herself, bathed in the distinctive white light of a Kindle. Curious, I diverted my route to swing near her.

"Hey," I said, as I reached my closest point.

"Hey," she replied easily, looking up from her reading. She languidly lifted a fist and we bumped knuckles. "Just getting in?" she asked idly. "Happy Hour somewhere, or working late?"

"Data analysis," I answered tiredly. Reinvigoration only takes you so far. "Time for a glass of wine," I added, my mind automatically shifting beverages since I was talking to Rhonda, who sneers at me every time she sees me drinking a beer. "Why are you out here in the dark?"

Rhonda waved idly back behind her shoulder and upward. "Oh, Jane has a friend over, and I cleared out before they arrived so I could concentrate."

"Which Book Club are you reading for tonight?" I asked curiously. "I hope not Josie's choice this month?"

Rhonda shuddered a the thought, but grinned. "I wish this reading was as fun as that monstrosity!" She waved the tablet languidly. "This is Intermarriage of Magyar Nobility with 17th and 18th Century Austrian Society. I am lesson planning."

"Sounds like a fabulous fucking read! I wish I were auditing your course!" I said with all the enthusiasm I could simulate. I even smiled brightly at her. She just kicked my shin with her fortunately bare foot.

We both chuckled, and out of concern I asked, "So you are going to be out here all night, reading in the dark?"

"I doubt all night, but yeah. For a while. It's all right."

"Come on," I said, gesturing. "You can at least come up to my place and read in some good light inside, or out on my balcony if you prefer."

"I don't know. I don't need to hassle you," she replied, though I could tell that she hadn't quite counted on how dark it was getting out there by the pool.

"No hassle. My mind needs a break, so I am just going to quietly ninja some fruit this evening, or more likely play Clash of Clans. I'll let you pick which bottle of wine to open," I added to close the deal.

Rhonda looked at me for a moment, then grinned, popping up out of the poolside chair and sliding her flip-flops back onto her elegant feet. "You have me figured out already, Hawthorne."

As we sauntered to the stairs and up to my place, I reflected that this situation would have been an ideal one to get into Rhonda's tight, round, shapely jeans... if not for the fact that she was very happily married, to a woman no less, who was my good friend also, made the concept comfortably out of bounds.

Still, it really was too bad, because Rhonda was hot. She was tall, at around 5-8 or so, and in addition to how she filled out the aforementioned jeans, she had a nice set of medium-sized tits that sloped prettily in a natural sweep. I could tell how they swept, everyone could tell how they swept, because she never, ever wore bras under her ubiquitous cotton teeshirts. Even when teaching at the University, she simply wore a blazer to block the view. Sort of. In the name of professionalism. Sort of.

I wondered how many of her undergraduate students, male and female, lusted after her.

I did not personally lust after Rhonda. I had other women who were an actual possibility, remote or otherwise, to lust after. But I was going to indulge myself in giving her form a good eyebath or two, since she was going to be in my apartment for a few hours.

You know... for aesthetics.

I had three bottles of red in my apartment. When we got in, I gestured and Rhonda of course chose the most expensive of the three, a nice little French Burgundy. It was still only 23 bucks. Rhonda is an adjunct instructor, and I am a grad student. We both know how to find good wine inexpensively.

As I worked to open the cork, I waved around my place, where I realized Rhonda had never been. "Couch in here is fine, but I get the other end if you are going to sit inside," I suggested. "My one and only soft chair there beside it is good too," I added, completing my IKEA inventory. "Or, if you want to still sit outside, the small couch around the corner on the balcony is more comfy, but I find it too soft to comfortably work on my laptop there. The chairs right by the door are better for that."

"I think I'll take the outside couch," she replied as I poured for her. "I was enjoying the air, if not the darkness. And I'm not even taking notes right now. This is just a re-read."

"Oh, God," I snorted. "You have had to read

Magyar Shenanigans in the 16th and 17th Centuries

twice

?"

"17th and 18th Centuries," she automatically corrected with a pedantic snort. "And I wish they got up to anything remotely resembling shenanigans." She shrugged. "It's not so bad."

"Cool. I'll be in here mostly. I was going to microwave some soup for dinner, but I have a lagana I can heat, if you want something to eat too," I offered politely.

"Nah," Rhonda said, moving to the sliding glass door to my balcony. "I ate already. Thank you."

I watched her ass sway as she opened the slider.

"Hey, Rhonda! Leave the door open, will you? The night air and noises are too nice to keep out," I asked.

She nodded, pushed the door all the way open, and stepped out onto my presently well-lit balcony.

After I went and changed into some gym shorts and a purple tennis shirt, I nuked my soup and hoovered it down while still standing in my kitchen. I am not too proud to eat over the sink, and I've never felt depressed about doing so regularly. It is a Hollywood trope for loneliness, but I have a nice life, with plenty of good people in it. I can eat conveniently when I want to, without shame.

I was about to go sit on my couch and play Clash of Clans, leaving Rhonda alone to do her reading, when she hissed at me from outside. "Ken! Come here a minute!"

Curious, I grabbed my wine and stepped out onto my balcony and around the corner. Rhonda wordlessly indicated the cushion next to her on the little couch she was relaxing on. As I sat, she said quietly, "I don't know if you've noticed this before, but I'm just now seeing it for the first time."

"Noticed what?" I asked curiously, taking a sip of my wine as I sat.

"The light on Jane's and my balcony over across from here is burnt out," Rhonda said, leaning back in her seat next to me as she pointed. "With it out, and the lights on in our apartment, like ours are now, you can see right inside, even with the sheers closed."

Gulp.

"Uh, yeah," I nodded, trying to cover my potential embarrassment with a grim demeanor. "I've learned to be careful where I let my eyes wander." I should be in the clear, I thought as I said this. At least, I had never seen anything, um, fun in Jane and Rhonda's apartment. And their light must have just recently burnt out, as I'd never seen into their place at all, despite how much time I spent on this couch out here.

"Well, Jane and her buddy are in our living room right now," Rhonda said easily, pointing.

I looked over reluctantly. Then I kept looking, even more reluctantly.

Jane's buddy was a guy.

Jane's buddy was about my height, a good number of inches taller than Jane, and visibly well-built in his stylish jeans and tight teeshirt.

Jane's buddy had his tongue down her throat and his hands on her firm little ass.

I felt like I had been stabbed. I felt anguish for Rhonda beside me, and bewildered betrayal at the hands of my friend Jane.

Yes, I personally felt betrayed. Both these women were my friends, one friend was harming the other, and that hurt my soul. I wasn't angry at Jane... yet. But I could feel that coming.

"Oh God, Rhonda!" I gasped, turning to her with what I hoped would be useful compassion in my eyes. "I'm so sorry!"

Rhonda just turned her eyes from the sight and arched an eyebrow calmly at me.

"Stand down, Ken," she smirked. "I knew what she was having whatsisname over for tonight. I've just never had a chance to watch before."

"She's been having an affair... with a

guy

, and you have known about it?" I hissed. My confusion was getting worse. I was definitely getting mad at Jane now, and was getting a little mad at Rhonda for not being mad along with me.

"Jane has most certainly not been having an affair," Rhonda said easily. Both of us were instinctively keeping our voices down. "She has never been with, um... him before tonight. What

is

his fucking name?" she asked herself absently.

"But..."

"But nothing. Chill. Neither of us is having an affair or affairs. We always let the other know in advance when we decide to bring a girl... or a guy," she added, nodding at whatsisname, who was tugging Jane's blouse off over her head, "home for some fun."

Rhonda too?

I'll admit, I wanted to look away. I was still having a hard time processing things, and staring at Jane's activities while sitting next to her wife seemed like I was jumping into the Wrong Pool. The Wrong Pool was crowded already with everybody else within my sight.

But Jane, who unlike Rhonda always wears a bra, had for some

inexplicable

reason chosen not to for this evening. Those were some arresting bare breasts... what I could see of them under the dude's big hands that were mostly encompassing them. Fuck, this was hot.

I had to get out of there. If Rhonda was going to suffer (enjoy?) out here, she could do it alone. But when I started to rise, Rhonda reached out and tugged me back onto the couch. I'll admit, I did not make it hard for her to do so. Jane had really nice tits, and the idiot had moved his hands down to her hips while bending to suckle on a nipple, leaving the other breast now fully in my view. Our view.

"Don't be a prig, Ken," Rhonda chuckled softly. "If I am going to get to enjoy this show out here on your balcony, the least I can do is share it with you." She relaxed back against the cushions and took a deep sip of the red.

The fact that Jane was over there, topless in blue jeans, my favorite visual ever, made me helpless to retreat. And I did not want to retreat, accusations of prig-dom or not. The way Jane's hands were exploring the front of the guy's jeans, and beginning to tease down the zipper had me further rapt.

Rhonda too, apparently. She leaned almost involuntarily forward once more as Jane tugged the jeans down off the guy's powerful-looking ass.

He did not take his lips from Jane's tit, though he did raise a hand to eagerly massage the breast he suckled on.

"See, Ken," Rhonda said calmly like she was narrating a nature documentary, "Jane and I discussed early on in our relationship, back when we first started to realize that we'd like to marry each other, that for two women, there aren't the same instinctive, reproductive pressures that drive straights to monogamy. We don't have to worry whether any children we might have someday are genetically both of ours," she explained. I sensed that she was at ease with what she was saying, but still felt the need to justify it. "I mean," she went on, "If either of us has a baby someday, it is going to take some outside intervention no matter what, right? Either technological or... otherwise," she finished, waving at what Jane was doing.

What Jane was doing was rooting around inside the guy's underwear with both hands. Eagerly.

"She is trying to have a baby?" I gasped.

"No!" Rhonda exclaimed, as if surprised I would think that. "She is trying to have a whole bunch of orgasms."

Actually, at that moment, Jane was trying to get whatsisname's underwear off. She did so.

"Well. That there is a considerable penis," Rhonda observed, leaning back and relaxing once more.

It was, in fact, considerable, even at a distance. My male brain instantly did a comparison check, as much as possible from my vantage, and decided that I had him beat. Barely. I did not reveal this finding to Rhonda because... duh. But I did let myself relax a little on the couch as well.

The two of them across the way were suddenly laughing, but Jane was determinedly pushing her friend over to the couch, where she plopped him down. Pushing his knees apart, Jane knelt swiftly between them. The angle now was not as good for us to see everything, but I was still in a sort of inappropriate heaven as I had a fabulous view of that little tight plum of an ass, stretching her jeans across it. She stroked his cock, which stood up eagerly from a veritable nest of black pubes, but only briefly, before she bent and slid the head into her mouth. Her breasts dangled beautifully in my vision for just a moment before they slid behind his fucking knees.

From this angle, I could not tell how much tongue she was using, but from the way his head rolled back and around, I could guess it was a lot.

"I just don't get cocksucking," Rhonda observed in casual, intellectual curiosity. "I mean, like Jane says, you guys do have anatomy that we thankfully don't, but I don't understand how excited she gets about sticking that anatomy in her mouth!"

"Well, I for one certainly enjoy the process on occasion," I observed, unable to help myself. Was I getting

relaxed

about all this?

"I'm sure you do," snorted Rhonda. "Men!"

Jane was bobbing up and down now with some alacrity. Both her hands were now employed on his shaft and balls and the dude was loving it.

"So Jane is really bisexual then?" I asked, finding myself very surprised by that. I had never gotten the vibe.

"I suppose we are both bisexual, to some extent," Rhonda mused. "But we are both very confirmed, um, lezmantics?"

"Lezmantics?" I asked. I actually took my eyes off Jane's topless-in-jeans blowjob for a brief moment to wonder what Rhonda had meant.

"We can both absolutely get off with both women and men. Occasionally thunderously," Rhonda added, apparently just now examining the phenomenon of this word she had suddenly coined, "but that is just an almost autonomous nervous reaction, right? We only feel an emotional response during and after sex with a woman." She took her eyes off the blowjob, which interested her less than it did me, and went on. Rhonda was a teacher after all, and teachers love to explain...

"We all, men and women, have certain, um, buttons I guess, that we respond to if they are... pushed correctly?"

"Should we call those controls, 'touchpads' and 'joysticks'?" I asked, puckishly curious. I might have had my eyes riveted on what was happening across the way, but I was getting into this bizarre conversation.

Rhonda elbowed me. "Asshole! But yeah. Good sex makes you cum. But it can also make you feel closer to the person you are doing it with. The process can bring you together, and incite desires for closeness. It can even, in conjunction with other factors, engender the need for permanence, even possession. Both Jane and I only get those sorts of feels, to a greater or lesser extent, during sex with another woman. And we have only ever gotten them really

strongly

with each other. I'm pretty sure that you wouldn't get romantic feelings if you had sex with a guy."

"I am absolutely certain that if I had sex with a guy, there would have to be drugs or a bizarre head injury involved to make me capable at all, and romantic entanglement would be right out," I replied firmly.

"Straights," Rhonda snorted, rolling her eyes.

Jane suddenly stood up, leaving the guy momentarily bereft looking as her mouth left his probably boiling cock. But his disappointment vanished as she began to work her jeans down off her hips in front of him. For my part, I was losing my glorious view of topless Jane in jeans, but I rapidly found that fully naked Jane was also a sight to behold.

She climbed up onto his lap, ran her hands through his hair, and shoved her breasts in his face. The two of them writhed like that, her crotch rubbing along his now desperate cock for a while.

"Here we go," Rhonda said quietly but firmly. "Let's actually see how you fuck a guy, dear."

Then, as Jane lifted up her hips and reached down to guide his admittedly considerable cock to her slit, I felt Rhonda's hand suddenly resting on my thigh, on the bare skin just below the legs of my shorts. Jane threw back her head and sank down onto the guy, both of them clearly entranced by the sensation of his entry. When she came to rest, having fully encompassed him, the two of them started a long, languid kiss.

Rhonda's hand began to massage my thigh. If there had been so much as a percentage or two left to go before I was utterly hard, that almost unconscious caress eliminated it.

It could not possibly be unconscious, I realized. But it might be almost involuntary.

Just as involuntarily, as Jane began her first, gentle rise and fall on the guy, my hand that was nearest Rhonda twitched, lifting as if seeking her thigh in turn of its own accord. I caught myself in time, and just set my hand back down on the narrow couch in the necessarily meager space between us. My pinkie knuckle just brushed her khaki slacks.

Oops.

Jane began to rise and fall now in a smooth rhythm. It was so fucking hot to watch.

Yeah, it was becoming increasingly clear to me since I moved here that I got a distinct, unique kick out of watching.

Rhonda was certainly getting a kick out of watching at the moment! And her hand had left my bare thigh, moving up my leg to the clothed portion thereof. It kept moving, getting closer to where the fabric strained over my erection. My hand twitched again, pressing lightly harder against her thigh. Her hip just rocked slightly in return. She felt my touch, and she was not shying away.

Could I get away with rubbing her leg? Did I want to? Let's be honest. I would not be rubbing her leg if I did start to rub it. I would be fondling it.

I had been so focused on the stunning reveal of Jane's bisexuality that it really had not registered much that Rhonda also apparently was wired that way a little. Possibly a lot bisexual, as her hand slipped fully onto my crotch and slowly traced the outline of my cock through the fabric.