I awoke with a start to the sound of breaking glass, followed by raucous laughter. I'd fallen asleep on my couch after dinner and it was only 8:30, but the rowdies in the alley were already making their presence known.
I'd rented the carriage house at the rear of the Sherman family's property in September when I started graduate classes at the nearby college. Their home was a large, end-unit row house in a neighborhood of upper-middle class African American families. The backyard was large, with a brick patio extending from the back door, narrowing to a path that ran the length of the yard and ended at a spacious cement pad at the entrance to my carriage house. There were grass patches on either side of the path with a few small trees that offered pleasant shade without totally blocking the sun. The yard was enclosed on all sides by a tall wooden fence that offered enough privacy that I felt comfortable sunbathing in a bikini on the few Indian Summer afternoons that blessed us before the dreary onset of winter.
The inside of my home was a converted attic above the garage, with an interior set of stairs leading up to the loft. Once up the stairs, you found yourself in a large open room with a kitchenette at one end, an overstuffed sofa and two armchairs set up around a coffee table and TV, and my bed at the far wall next to the door to the bathroom. There were windows at either end of the room, two in the kitchen and two next to my bed. There was only one small closet near the stairs, overfilled with my jackets. The majority of my clothes hung on racks against the wall near my bed, or in an overburdened chest of drawers.
The apartment wasn't fancy, but Professor Sherman, a dean at my school, charged me very little for it and I could walk to campus. The fence had two gates – one next to the main house and the other at my end which opened into the driveway. Through the gate, it was a quick half-block down the alley to reach the main street, then five blocks to campus. It was a pleasant walk, and neighbors cheerfully greeted me despite the fact I stuck out like a sore thumb in the neighborhood. A 5'3" pale, redheaded woman in a black neighborhood couldn't have been more conspicuous.
The Shermans left me alone for the most part, but Professor Sherman had one strict rule: I was not allowed to have men in their carriage house. He and his wife felt that risked setting a poor example for their children. Besides, I was a good girl and was too busy that sort of thing.
On a few occasions, the family asked me to babysit for their twin 13 year old sons, Isaiah and Allen. The boys were entertained by my red hair, the texture of which was so much different from their mother's and female relatives'. However, the boys were going through puberty, so I frequently caught them staring at my large breasts when speaking to me, or sneaking a glance at my ass when they thought I wasn't looking. I didn't mention it in the interest of maintaining my landlord-tenant relationship, but decided that I should be more discreet in spring when I wore my bathing suit in the backyard.
As winter slowly melted into spring, I was eager for the opportunity to pack my heavy winter coats into my trunk for storage. I missed feeling the sun on my skin, even though I didn't dress provocatively with the boys around. In mid-March, my spring break coincided with the boys' school's, and the Sherman family would be in the Virgin Islands for nine days.
The first five days of my semester break were a miserable continuation of winter: rainy with temperatures in the low-40s. I felt like a caged animal trapped in my apartment. I wished that I could have gone to a tropical spot for the week, but knew that it was best to stay and get more studying done.
Finally on Thursday, the weather broke into the beautiful spring that the city was capable of on a few rare occasions. Glorious sun filled the afternoon, and I took full advantage of having the yard to myself with the Shermans gone, basking on a lawn chair in my bikini as I lazily read for class. It was only Thursday night that I realized what the warmer weather meant for the alley.
The group of 20-something men that assembled in the alley that first warm night were rowdy and noisy, laughing at their own crude jokes and smashing bottles for sheer entertainment. Thursday, it didn't bother me too much, and I assumed it was a special occasion to celebrate the arrival of spring. "Boys will be boys," I muttered to myself as I peered out the window, wrapped in a towel and drying my hair after my shower, "but why do they have to do it under my window?"
The second night, Friday, the guys were there again. There were at least five of them that night, drinking, shouting, and smashing bottles, which was what awakened me on the couch. I peered through the window and didn't recognize them from the surrounding homes.
I stepped away from the window, sighing and removing my shirt and tossing it in the hamper as I walked to my dresser. My running shorts slid down my legs, and followed my shirt into the laundry. I opened the top drawer and pulled out a lace-trimmed camisole and a yellow thong, slipping the garments on as I got into my bed by the window. "What's drawing these guys to this alley?" I asked myself aloud as another bottle shattered on the ground below.
Saturday was another a gorgeous sunny day, and I was excited to have another free day of reading in a bathing suit on one of the lawn chairs in the backyard. I pulled up my white and blue polka dot bikini bottoms that tied at the sides and looped the strings of the matching top over my head, reaching behind to secure the strings at my back. I positioned the triangles of fabric over my D-cup breasts which were as eager as the rest of me to finally get some sun. I grabbed a towel and a book and headed to a lawn chair on the cement pad in front of my home.
I unfolded the towel on the lawn chair, and smeared sunblock across my skin. I arched my back and luxuriated in the sun's rays, not even pretending to read the book that lay open on my pale, flat stomach. Slowly, I drifted off into a peaceful half-sleep in the mid-afternoon warmth... until the sound of shouting and laughter shook me from my blissful state.
Even though it wasn't yet three in the afternoon, the warm weekend weather had drawn the rowdies to the alley. The yelling jerked me awake into the bright mid-afternoon sun and I sat bolt upright in my lawn chair. I wasn't going to tolerate this crap all summer! These jerks needed to be told to move along! I stood up from the chair and tossed book aside, forgetting for an instant my revealing outfit. I marched to the edge of the fence and propped myself up on the bottom rung to glare over the edge at the offenders.
"Hey! Cut that out, you shitheads! This is a nice neighborhood!" I shouted at the three large men who stood against the far wall. Each of them was over six feet tall, well-muscled forms with broad shoulders.
"The fuck?! Oh no she did not!" The one closest to me shouted as he sized up the big mouth attached to the bigger set of tits that was yelling at them from behind the fence. His eyes moved from my face to my chest, then traced the line of the fence as his face lit up.
