Sylvan Courtyard: 4 Watch with Ears

This story was not in the original outline. But it needed to be told. And it pushes the boundaries of voyeurism in what I hope is an entertaining and unusual way...

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Sylvan Courtyard -- Four: You Can Watch With Your Ears

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The heat of summer was starting to kick in, even up in the forested foothills where Sylvan Courtyard was located. This was fine by me. I don't mind a little heat under most circumstances, though I did find myself running more on the treadmill in the air-conditioned gym than I did along the forested trails. When I realized that, I managed to cut out that laziness and made myself hit the trails again to enjoy nature...

Another reason not to mind the heat was that the courtyard around the pool was often crowded. With the semester almost finished, lots of us, especially the undergrads, did our studying or other work poolside. It was an excuse to get some sun.

It was also an excuse to check out all the other sunbathers...

I was working on the draft of my dissertation. I had caught up on the only class I was taking, the one with Professor Thames, and I was leerily worrying about all the exams I was about to have to grade, but for now, I had some time, and I was using it to flesh out a few segments of my doctoral 'masterpiece'.

Or at least I was supposed to be doing that. My productivity was not great at the moment.

As I have mentioned, the demographics of Sylvan Courtyard are damned near perfect for a single guy like me. Nearly 60% of the tenants are women, and virtually all of us are single and in our early to mid-twenties. And today, with not a cloud in the high blue sky and temperatures pushing into the sweaty range, the bikini game of my female neighbors was particularly strong.

I had taken my laptop down poolside and grabbed a seat at one of the glass-top tables on the patio, choosing the seat out of four around the table that gave me the best view of my fellow sunbathers. I did not bother with a shirt, just some good sunscreen on my torso. Between my board shorts and the table itself, my lower body was not going to get much sun anyway.

I sighed quietly as Katie Fallows, I think her last name was Fallows, walked by in a sleek one-piece suit. I'd never gotten a chance to know her much beyond her name. Her boobs, honestly, are kind of weird looking, but she had a great ass.

Concentrate on the work, Ken!

Then why are you down here in the sun with half-dressed chicks, Ken?

Fuck off, that's why, Ken.

"Hey, Ken! Do you mind if Henry and I share your table?" I heard Heather Vandross ask beside me.

Starting, and hoping I had not too obviously been checking out Katie's passing ass, I looked up. "Heather! Sure. Be my guest, guys," I said, waving at the empty seats.

Heather immediately started to pay rent for her seat at the table by choosing the chair directly opposite mine. She put down a stack of notebooks and a textbook, bending over as she did so. Those delicious tits of hers dangled awesomely in the less than sturdy bikini top she wore. She settled into her seat, and Henry took the one to my right.

"Ken, have you met my boyfriend, Henry?" she asked politely.

"I think we've said hi once or twice," I said, turning to smile at her guy. He extended his hand and we shook as he sat in turn. A good, firm, friendly handshake. We actually had a good little conversation. Turns out he was a senior undergrad, unlike Heather, who was a grad student like me. He was a business major, but gave off none of the nastily competitive vibe so many of those dudes exude right through their pores.

Overall, turns out he was a nice guy. I found that I actually liked him. It did not keep me from being a little wishful that he was out of the picture. Those were nice tits over there, staring back at me from the less-than-extensive green bikini top my blonde next-door neighbor was wearing. The way she was already chewing on her pen cap off and on was not helping things.

But from everything I had ever seen or heard, and especially from watching the two of them together with me now, all of us doing homework, I got the impression that the two of them had the kind of comfortable-in-their-skin relationship that might well survive graduation, even graduations a year or so apart. Good for them.

I wanted a relationship like that someday. But I was not in a place in life where such would end in anything but disaster. I knew that all too painfully well.

And I had a pretty fun life these days without a love...

"Hey, y'all!" we heard Josie's voice from behind me. "Let me introduce you to some more people," she added to someone with her. I turned in my seat, and found myself momentarily undistracted by Heather.

Josie was wearing a bathing suit, and nothing but! Usually, if you saw her out around the pool, she was just passing through, dressed for work or in shorts, usually with a teeshirt on over a one-piece suit. Her suit this day was admittedly a one-piece, but for once it was the type that lifted and supported her breasts, rather than squashed them. Always a sexy look, and totally unexpected on our tasty landlady. Our very tasty landlady...

But the girl she was with, a new tenant I guessed, since I'd never seen her before, was damn near hotter.

No. She was hotter than Josie. Maybe. Sort of. Short and curvy, she sported a red string bikini with a high, french-cut bottom that was damned near a thong. If those tits weren't fake, I'd eat my hat, but her surgeon had done a great job and hadn't gone overboard. And she had a tattoo of a green Chinese dragon winding its way down her left flank from above her hip, under her suit, and down the outside of her thigh halfway to her knee.

Self-conscious about her body, this girl was not.

"New tenant," Josie said to us merrily, introducing Mimi Queen as a first-year nursing student who had just taken the 'dungeon' apartment down at the end, the one that I had rejected when I first looked here. I knew Josie and Jesse would both be happy to finally get that unit rented.

We made polite conversation for a minute or so, then Josie led Mimi off to introduce her to more people. Both Henry and I watched them go. Form behind, it was abundantly evident that Mimi's bikini bottom was, in fact, a full-on thong.

Heather whacked Henry's arm with her notebook and grinned at him tartly. "Having naughty nurse fantasies all of a sudden?" she asked with a friendly grin.

"Well, I sure am," I chirped, finding myself coming to Henry's defense.

They both smiled at me. Heather's was just a trace naughty, and Henry's was openly thankful.

*

Most of the doctoral classes that I had ever taken had ended the term with papers or projects, but Professor Thames's was going to have an actual exam, and I could not decide if I hated that or loved it.

As I sat in her class, with less than a week to go before that exam, I decided it was probably for the better, making it the one aspect about her class that had ended up as the easy route for us students. I'd have to drop everything to review for a day or so before the exam, but I was confident I would do well.

In fact, the way that she loaded us up with all that work a month ago, when she had good reason to believe our other responsibilities were less immediate, had actually been a considerate act that I had not recognized at the time. I did recognize it now, and I occasionally felt regret for how mad I'd been with her back then.

Unfortunately, I had to deal with fallout from that period. That fucking crack by my buddy and fellow researcher Petey about sleeping with my professor to get her to cut me some slack had never quite left my head.

Like my own mentor, Professor Thames was young for her tenured position, maybe forty years old. Petey had triggered a change in my mind about her, as I involuntarily reclassified her from attractive furniture to moderately hot woman. And while I had been a looker all my life, my recent circumstances and activities had me looking more intently at everyone than ever before.

Fortunately, I can both check out a woman and still take notes. I'm a multitasker. So, with only three more classes before the exam, I was locked onto the professor, in all ways.

She always dressed pretty conservatively... almost school marm-y.

But in an anime sort of way, however. She always wore black pencil skirts that varied in length from her usual knee length to a few inches higher. She had one that was a good four or five inches above her shapely knees, but she didn't wear that one often. Up top, she wore simple, fitted white dress shirts. Fitted, but not tight, and with never more than the collar unbuttoned.

Still, they were the kind of shirts that, in animes of teachers with her build, get yanked open suddenly to reveal some crazy black lace bra that barely contains some sizeable tits.

This was not an anime, alas, but she did have a nice set.

To complete the occasionally frustrating look, she wore her black hair back in a bun most days, and she needed thick-framed black glasses. Some professors secretly only wore glasses to impart a more intellectual look. I have considered doing it myself. But Professor Thames clearly needed these glasses. The lenses were not quite Coke-bottle-bottom thick, but the prescription's effects were visible at a distance.

Unfortunately, the effect of those lenses was to make her eyes look twice as big as they were.

You know... like anime eyes.

What did she just say? Shit. My mental multitasking had taken a hit.

Thank goodness I only had a week until the exam, then I could be done with the dangers and distractions of my mentor's chief antagonist in the department. Maybe

he

should fuck her and let the rest of us have some peace...

*

It was fully dark by the time I got out of my car in the parking lot at home. I had had office hours, and, with a week to go before my own students had their exams, the number of ways someone could ask for inappropriate information about some or all of the questions on an upcoming test had been on full display.

All the ways except sex. Thankfully, none of my female students made that offer, so I had not had to slap anyone down about it. There was no way I'd accept that deal. I have a bright future ahead of me, and I intend to keep it fully intact.

Taylor Swift could have stripped naked and offered to blow me daily in return for test answers, and I'd have told her a hard no.

Seriously.

I would have wept for the rest of my life, but I would have said no.

But leaving class behind that evening had at least banished obstructive thoughts about Professor Thames from my head.

I checked my mail, and the bulletin board, adding the newly announced meeting time for the next Beer and Wine Club meeting to my calendar app, then wandered out into the night air around the pool.

As I passed along the first-floor patios overlooking the pool, a voice came out of the dark.

"Hey, Ken! You are getting in late," said Felicity, where she sat on her darkened patio by the light of her phone, listening to something on her earbuds. "Hot date?" Felicity lives directly under my apartment... well, directly under Heather's apartment next to mine, and I often spoke to her as I passed.

"I wish," I snorted. "Office hours."

"Ugh. Have a good night," she said. Felicity is a grad student like me, and does some heavy work as a TA. I was pretty sure that she was playing Civilization or something, rather than doing work this evening. She had that body posture.

I bounced up the stairs, two at a time, and let myself into my place.

Since I could not be bothered to cook anything, I made a sandwich, grabbed a beer, and went out to sit on my couch on the balcony. Some time-wasting computer gaming was calling my name as well.

As I sat, I did automatically look over toward Rhonda and Jane's place, but Jesse must have fixed their porch light, because, despite them clearly being home, I could see nothing through the lit sheers covering their living room.

Fucking Jesse and his conscientious attitude...

I snorted at myself, and bent to ninja some fruit while I ate.

"Henry! You goof, watch your hands," came a soft voice out of the night. I realized that Heather and Henry must be sitting on her own, smaller balcony right beside mine. There was a large concrete wall between us that provided visual privacy, but in the still night air, I could hear around that barrier clearly.

"I am watching my hands, they are filled with wondrous sights," Henry said back, just as quietly. Heather just giggled, then sighed a minute or so later. There were kissing sounds.

"Henry!" Heather hissed again. "Leave my shirt alone! Someone could see you dragging my tits out like that!"

"Come on," Henry wheedled, not sounding as if he was dissuaded. "We could see anyone who could see us. We are well back from the edge. Too far to be seen from below... Fuck you are amazing, you know that?"

"Henry! Ohhh... You are bad, you know that?"

"Thowwy. Cann tall. My mouwth ith full."

My neighbor was getting her truly impressive tit sucked just five feet from me.

Holding my breath so they didn't hear me would not have been sustainable, but I held myself as close to the silence of churchmice as I could manage.

There was a feminine moan, then a sharp hiss, then another moan. "Fuck, baby! You know how to use your teeth just right..."

Henry just chuckled softly. Heather sighed in an obviously conflicted menage of pleasure and frustration. Then I heard a shifting noise, and then, "Mmm? Un unh," from Henry.

There was a soft slap, more of a swat really, and Heather hissed. "You can keep sucking on that one... Please keep doing that, but you have my other tit just hanging out in the open! I admit I can't see any sign of anyone watching, but what if somebody walked out on their balcony, or even a few of those patios?"

The pop of Henry releasing her nipple was so loud I actually managed to hear it. "Ha! From the tone of your voice, I'd say that thought excites you," he said, the last word muffled as he went back to feeding on that tit.

I knew it was an amazing tit. I had ample evidence it was awesome. But I had never seen the nipple. Did it measure up to the canvas on which it rested?

"Ass!" Heather chuckled.

"Hey!" Henry said in mild playful dismay, amid the sounds of more shifting bodies.

"No! I'm putting them away, babe," Heather said in a stern voice. "If you are so into my being seen by strangers, let's haul that big ole cock of yours out and see how you like being exposed!"

"Oh. Hey! Oh, um, hey now..." Henry's protests at his dick being removed from his pants sounded mighty pro-forma to me. "There are a lot of windows..." he added, his voice suddenly sounding a bit more genuinely hesitant.

"Maybe I'll help you keep it concealed," Heather crooned.

There was a sudden moan from Henry. I know that moan. It's the one I make when my cock first slips between a girl's lips.

What followed was a whole lot of Henry trying manfully to be vocally quiet (and failing), along with some incredible wet sounds. This was not some gentle, idle, affectionate fellatio going on just feet away from me. Heather was gobbling his knob at a ferocious pace.

The wet sucking noises were rapid and hungry sounding, and she must have been taking him deep because they were often interspersed with the soft 'gluck' of her almost gagging.

"Fuck, babe! You gotta slow down," Henry entreated softly. "With all your teasing at dinner, and now this out here, you are going to make me come already!"

There was a sudden cessation of the sucking sounds. "You got a problem with my giving you an orgasm, baby?" Heather crooned, but sharply.

"Fuck no! But..."

"You aren't going back to your apartment tonight, right?"

"No..."

"Then fill my mouth, cock boy," Heather said sternly, and the sucking noises resumed, even more vigorously, if that was possible.

Well. Heather had some depths.

Henry's moans rapidly became shallower and higher pitched. He also lost a little bit of his control over the volume, but he held it down from outright shouts.

Suddenly his high moans sank low, and he growled, "Coming!"

The sound Henry made next was almost exactly like the one someone makes when they are punched in the gut, except with an unmistakable enthusiasm overlaid. Suddenly, he was panting and muttering indistinctly but thankfully.

For my part, aside from being hard as a rock, I was consumed with wondering about whether Heather had taken his jizz in her mouth, or if she was wearing it all over her face. Frustratingly, she was silent for a few moments. At last, she chuckled, "I feel accomplished, Baby. That was a lot!"

Damn, that was no clue.

Regaining his breath, Henry leered, "Now I need to take you inside and put you to bed!"

"Oh you are done now, are you? Or are you just back to being afraid of being seen, now that I'm not swallowing this beauty?"

"No," Henry said silkily now, "I need to lay you out on your bed so I have room to properly play with your kitty until it yowls."

"I like the way you think. Go on."

"And after that, well, you know my knees and shins are sore from soccer," I could almost hear Henry shrug. "Giving you the fucking you certainly now deserve anywhere else than on your mattress would hurt!"

Heather giggled as I heard him pull her to her feet. Dammit, I still could not be sure if the smile on her face was covered in cum or not!

Then the sound came of the sliding glass door of her balcony, and the night was silent.

I was tempted to go inside myself and try to keep listening, but while the apartments might be old, they had been ahead of their time on sound insulation.

I would never know.

With a sigh, I took a swig of my beer, which was still barely cold enough for drinking. Shaking my head, I adjusted my pants. Then I opened a puzzle game that had been kicking my ass. I knew I needed to get this mysterious box open, but I could not find the combination anywhere in the space where I was stuck. Maybe if I examined the funky wooden paneling more closely?

I read those ridiculous stories about guys getting all horned up and then being useless until they get some, or go 'take care of' their erections themselves. Come on. Once you remove the stimulation and concentrate on something else, a cock goes back to minding its own business quite comfortably... without jacking it off.

I don't drink decaf. I don't waste my calories on gluten-free breads. And I vanishingly seldom rub one out. All are just pale imitations that I don;t enjoy, and which make me feel sad for not having had the real thing.

I laughed at the whole episode later, when I was finally crawling into my bed. Apparently, I could indulge my voyeurism without even using my eyes! I was an eavesdropper? No, it seemed like I needed a word with more sexual overtones...

*

"Hey, Ken!" Felicity chirped, walking off of her patio the next morning as I, freshly showered and shaved, passed. Time for work. I had to put in some time on my research that morning to make sure it was going to be fine without me for the next few days while I dealt with exams, my own as well as those I would be giving and grading.

"Good morning Felicity. Long time no see," I chuckled. We both waved at a junior named Juan, who, rather than heading to the university this morning, was in his workout clothes and heading around the pool toward our gym. Lucky undergrad bastard.

Felicity wore her usual loose jeans with the gathered elastic waist, but instead of the 'Property of the Athletic Department' sweatshirt that often completed her outfits, she had a white turtleneck and unbuttoned black vest over it. "Teaching today? Or being a student?" I asked, waving at what passed for professional attire for her.