Sylvan Courtyard: Ch. 02 - Settling In

Was she fortifying herself for more?

She was leaning over side-on to where I watched, clearly sure that I was still watching. Obviously, I was incapable of not doing so. She straightened up momentarily, still looking at her phone and she put down the again empty wine glass.

Then she leaned back over again, one hand holding her phone, while the other reached back and absently scratched her lower back.

This caused the towel around her waist to loosen and fall to the floor.

Such a perfect little ass, made to appear voluptuous by the crazy narrow waist above it...

She looked absently down at the towel, shrugged, and read some more.

She did so for nearly thirty seconds, then straightened and turned toward her curtains, and thus toward me.

I had not noticed, in the stressful, slightly gross circumstances of first seeing her, that she did the complete shave thing. Did she actively lean into the whole Tinkerbell pixie thing?

Suddenly, she smiled, did a little curtsey in my direction, then bent and picked up the towel, though not covering herself with it in any meaningful way, and left for her bedroom, turning off the lights as she went.

*

It was a whole week before I so much as laid eyes on Becky again. We usually saw each other around the complex in passing, but I had been swamped. My teaching responsibilities were slacking off for the moment, fortunately, but I was at the school for long hours, both with my own research and my doctoral advisor's. Both of our projects had reached an intense juncture at nearly the same time, which was not optimal. I was also getting behind in my class with Professor Thames, but nothing was currently due there, so I was letting it slide dangerously. I had enough trouble there with my eyes. Petey's douchebaggery had had the unfortunate side-effect of making me consciously aware of how much I had been checking her out all semester.

Now, every class I had to fight to keep my eyes on her excellently prepared and presented material as she wrote and drew it on the board, and off her honestly pretty awesome bod. And fantasies, certain fantasies, were starting to intrude on my thoughts while I watched her teach...

Still, my preliminary analysis of what was happening with my own research told me that I was getting results that supported my key hypothesis, which was exciting and gratifying. And my mentor's research was so fascinating that it felt like a privilege just to be assisting with it.

Still, it left me with barely time to sleep, much less socialize or hang out on my balcony in the evenings, hoping one or another of my hot neighbors might give me a show. Such is the cross I bear...

I also saw no evidence that Becky was around a lot either. Tony Jindal, who had played ball in college and who lived down next door to Jesse, had organized a van to take interested parties to a Charlotte Knights AAA baseball game. The follow-up email afterward indicated that not only I, but some dude named Kenny and, more to the point, Becky, had had to back out at the last minute also. I had looked forward to that outing, and it sucked to miss it, especially since the White Sox's number-one prospect had ended up hitting a go-ahead three-run homer in the eighth to win the game for the Knights.

I finally saw Becky late on a Monday.

For the first time in forever, I was home before dusk and was talking to Josie in the entryway. She was up on a ladder, fixing a light bulb when I came in the door. I was tired, but I liked talking to Josie. The fact that Josie up above me on a ladder, in her form-fitting denim shorts and a work shirt that left me with serious doubts about whether she had bothered with a bra, was a sight to be lingered over had also encouraged me to stop and talk. She did not even bother to come down off of her ladder while we chatted, and that was a-okay with me.

Suddenly, Becky bopped in through the entrance and called out cheerily to both of us. We both waved back, and she stopped to join our conversation.

"Hey, Josie," Becky said, comically hesitant, "will I be shunned if I tell you that for once, I think Jesse's book club has a better book this month than your book club does?"

"Off with your head!" Josie scoffed, then shook her head. "You are not even the first person in this conversation to have suggested that Jesse might have picked a winner," she added glaring at a sheepish me.

A Separate Peace really was a good book, despite being An Important Classic, as Jesse had said when he nominated it. And not just because it was a mercifully short read during this busy month.

Becky laughed and turned to me. "How ya been, stranger?"

"Swamped," I grumped with a smile. "You too?"

"Oh yeah," she nodded. "But I now have two glorious days to catch up on sleep... and other things, before I get busy again."

"I'm jealous. But at least I'm back to a point where I can do my work on my computer here at home, rather than at school or in the lab," I replied.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around then," Becky said, already back in motion. She smiled over her shoulder at me and did the I'm Watching You gesture with the two fingers. I found that suddenly remarkably promising, and returned the salute. "See ya later, oh great landlady, who has more work than both of us," Becky added as she departed, light and bouncy on her delicate feet.

I turned back to Josie to finish our conversation, only to find her giving me the eye.

"When did you two start flirting so hard?" she asked with a grin.

"Us? Flirting?" I asked, trying to bland my way through the question. "I don't know about that..."

"Ha! If you don't know that was flirting, you need to be flirted with more, so you can learn."

"Um. Okay..." I temporized, and since I had no snappy comeback, I bailed and headed further into the complex.

Josie went back to screwing the light fixture back into place, but she said, without looking at me, "Maybe I should flirt with you some too, so you can figure out what it looks like."

I laughed and continued on for almost two steps, before I spun on my heel and added, "Well, education is my life. I am always ready to learn!" Then I spun back and hoofed it before I could see Josie react.

Had my often faulty gaydar been giving me a false positive?

When I got into my apartment, I found myself confronted with the inevitable consequences of being too tired to do the dishes for four days. Almost an hour later, my kitchen was once more clean and spotless, and I could finally microwave something to eat. You can bet I cleaned up after myself immediately this time, because... ants. So many ants.

The food helped rally me a little. I wasn't really that exhausted, except mentally, but if I went to bed now, I'd be up in the middle of the night, and I hate that. Still, I was just not feeling up to anything mentally strenuous like reading students' papers or reviewing my own research. I grabbed A Separate Peace and went to sit out on my balcony.

It really was a perfect evening.

Across the way, I saw that Becky was enjoying the weather so much, she actually had her sheers pulled back, and had left her sliding glass door to the balcony wide open. Several other people down on the first floor had done the same thing, though even from my balcony, it was a hard angle to see into their apartments. The only ones I would have been able to see a little way into were dark like usual at ten o'clock.

Becky was sitting inside on her couch, apparently playing some game on her iPad. Good to see someone else was enjoying some downtime too.

She must have caught the movement of my sheers as I stepped past them onto my balcony, as she looked up, peered my way, then smiled. I waved back. She idly did our suddenly in-joke gesture of I'm Watching You.

I shook my head broadly, so she could see me doing so at this distance. With a grin, I made a huge sweeping gesture of pointing at myself first, then repeating the usual gesture back at her.

No. It isI who is watching you! I tried to say.

She laughed, and I almost heard it across the gap.

Then, I saw her look at me for a moment. With a different but still visible grin, she rose, turned away from me and swished back into her kitchen. When there, she stopped, still facing away, and just tugged her shirt off over her head! I could see her take a deep breath before turning around back toward me.

She had a nice little white bra that cradled her sweet, delicate breasts and gleamed in the evening against her lightly tanned skin. Damn, she was such a hot little firecracker.

Then she made the watching you gesture at me, put her hand on her cocked hip and stared across the distance at me.

I realized what was expected of me, of course. And I wasn't about to start doing it on my own balcony, where the whole complex could see me! I went back inside, leaving my slider open, and pulling aside my sheers. Now we could each see into the other's apartments. I moved deeper, though I calculated that I did not need to move as deep as she had to ensure hers was the only apartment that had a view of me, among those that had lights on or people out.

I unbuttoned my shirt while facing her, and tugged it off my shoulders. I grinned as I let it fall. I was not sure I was discovering some latent exhibitionism in myself. I am proud of my body, sure. And I did not mind showing it to a hot girl I was developing definite designs on. But I was not feeling a desire to let any random person see me playing this game.

I made our two-finger gesture back at Becky.

She put her index finger on her lips, as if pondering whether to continue.

I knew she was going to continue. I just did not know whether she was going to ditch her shorts or the bra next.

It was the shorts, alas. But the ditching of them was quite a lovely sight, especially when she finished with a slow pirouette after she kicked them free to give me a nice panorama of that tight derriere clad in only a small but utilitarian pair of white cotton panties.

I laughed, and she laughed back. But I was getting hard. And her two fingers indicated that it was my turn again.

I kicked off my moccasins triumphantly, and before she could shake her head that that was not a turn, I unbuckled my belt, unzipped, and let my khakis fall to the ground. I stepped free of them and did my own slow turn. My tight-fitting black boxer briefs, with their distended front, were all I had left on.

I grandly told her it was her turn with my two fingers. We traded a grin.

Becky reached behind her and unhooked her bra. It sagged slightly but still clung to her breasts due to the exquisite fit of the soft white cups. Then she grinned at me, and left it in place, swiftly shoving her panties off her hips instead. The loose little garment dropped down her svelte legs and she stepped free.

She pirouetted again, letting me take in her bare little bum, and again appreciate, if at far too great a distance, her totally shaven crotch. The added effect of the loose but still barely concealing bra and her bare back was awesome.

She did not even bother with the I'm Watching You gesture this time. She just imperiously pointed at me. The grandeur of the gesture was ruined by the way it caused one of her tits to slip free of her unfastened brassiere. She winced and quickly tucked it back into the hanging cup. Her tits were really quite large, at least in comparison to her delicate frame.

We both laughed, and I clearly heard her this time. I was sure she heard my laugh too. The whole situation was silly.

I doubted our laughter would draw any curious investigations though. There were always quiet voices, laughter, or other noises in the evening air around the complex. I had heard a brief argument just before Becky and I had started up this latest game, somewhere off around the corner.

But I was up next, and again found no hesitancy in me. I exaggerated how much I needed to pull my waistband away to clear my rock-hard cock, then let my underwear drop. I kicked it away. Then I turned away from her and did a few squats, letting her see my flexing ass.

I heard her laughter again behind me, even louder.

I straightened and turned back, grinning at the silliness of it all. Then I put a stern look at my face, glared at her, and made a cupping motion with both hands, followed by a tossing away gesture. Then I did the Looking at You gesture one more time. I braced my arms akimbo and just let my hard-on bob in front of me.

Becky tossed her head, grinned, and let the bra slip to the floor. Fuck that girl was a sweet little package.

We just stood there, staring at each other's naked bodies. After almost a minute of appreciation, we both began to realize that there did not seem to be anything else to do like this. Funnily, it made us both relax.

I also realized that I was thirsty. I turned and walked, as if nothing was going on and I was not naked and being watched by a naked hottie across the courtyard, back to my fridge to grab a beer. I took a long pull. On impulse, since I figured after all this that maybe Becky and I should talk, I grabbed another beer from my fridge and waved it toward her as an invitation.

I saw her shrug, then nod.

We both moved around the edges of our apartments to reach and close the sheer curtains and turn on our porch lights. I closed my slider, and I assumed she would close hers too.

I moved to put on my clothes, as she would be doing across the way, but I stopped.

Becky was going to walk over through the complex. I was staying here. Why the hell should I bother getting dressed? It would be a great joke to just stay butt-naked and act like nothing was going on. She had seen everything anyway, right?

It took her the expected few minutes to get dressed and make her way to my door. I heard the knock, and after checking the peephole to be sure it was her, I opened the door but kept casually behind it.

Becky stepped in with a relaxed gait and was two steps inside, the door closing behind her, before she noticed I was still naked. Her eyebrows flew up and her eyes flowed down my body. The fact that I was still rock hard did not exactly escape her notice.

I had planned to brazen it out and see how long she could go without mentioning my nudity before I finally got dressed like a civilized person. She lasted about three seconds.

"You always answer the door like this?"

I shrugged as if we were discussing fixing the plumbing. "Only to women I've just watched strip naked for me. Bravo, by the way. Five Stars." I was still going to brazen it out, I decided.

I still had my open beer in my hand, and I grabbed the bottle I had for her from the entry ledge, extending it toward her. "Your beer?"

Becky just smiled a crooked smile, and took a half step toward me, just into what felt like my suddenly insecure personal space. She ignored the proffered bottle.

Her right hand just softly reached out to gently rest against my hard shaft. Then her fingers slowly closed around my cock, not moving at all otherwise. The warmth of her delicate, small fingers as they barely encompassed my suddenly not just hard but needy phallus was exquisite.

"I came over for a drink, but not beer," she said in a suddenly slightly husky voice.

I fumbled quickly to set the beers back down and my left hand found its way to her cute little ass, filling itself with her firm cheek and pulling her just another half-step toward me. My right hand slid between us and grasped one of those sweet breasts. It would be a handful for her, but my hand engulfed it as I immediately began a gentle massage. The smooth surface of her backside, along with the hard nipple making itself eagerly felt through her shirt, told me that Becky had not bothered with redonning her underwear before dressing.

Almost automatically, she started to sink down before me for that drink. But I grabbed her little ass harder and lifted her back up straight. I kissed her. Our lips explored, a tongue's tip was felt here and there. It was a friendly, if hot, kiss, but not a desperate one.

"Not here," I said softly. "The floors in the entryway are hard and a little rough. I found that out when I last scrubbed the floor."

Becky's free hand just grabbed my ass in turn for a moment, then she wordlessly pushed past me and headed toward my living area. I followed closely, because I wanted to. Also, because she was still holding my cock...

She went to my couch, turned, and sat on it, pulling me to stand right in front of her. Still not releasing nor stroking my cock, she grinned and leaned forward to lavish a huge lick on my tip. I groaned and my knees trembled. She kissed it, then looked up to ask me. "Trust you to stand right there if I let you go for a second?

I could imagine nothing I wanted less than to leave this position, but I just nodded wordlessly.

Becky winked at me, then released my cock and whipped off her shirt for me.

Oh fuck yeah. Such pretty works of art. And really, not that small in absolute terms...

Then I immediately lost sight of them as she leaned forward and slid her lips around my helmet. Another involuntary gasp broke from my lips. Now she had both delicate hands encircling the bottom of my shaft, massaging gently as she slid me wetly in and out of her lips.

She luxuriated in tasting me, her tongue writhing against my knob as she worked it slowly between her lips. I could not help but lightly stroke her brightly blonde hair as she worked.

Suddenly, she started taking me deeper. She made sexy but almost alarming noises as she started bumping my cock back against her throat. A minuscule pause later, and I felt my dick sliding into and down her suddenly relaxed throat!

If I had moaned before, this was a wail of glee and concern that ripped itself from my mouth. Becky grabbed both my hands and placed them now against the back of her head. I felt myself grabbing her hair involuntarily. Then she reached out and grabbed my bare ass, fingernails digging into my bare flesh, and started pulling me hard against her face!

With each tug, I slid deep into her. At first, I kept pulling back, but her nails would just spur me back toward her, and into her throat again. My hands refused to let go of her head. I was genuinely fucking Becky's face. Or perhaps, she was fucking my cock with her face. Either way, it was just goddamned glorious.

But it just could not have been comfortable for her. This blowjob was not meant to last, and that was a good thing, because this little woman was overwhelming me. My balls were boiling, and my cock throbbing. "I'm so gonna come, Becky!" I gasped. "Right now!"

In a single, smooth, concerted motion, she released my ass, pulled back to release my cock from her mouth, grabbed my shaft with both hands, and pumped furiously. Thank God my own hands managed to release her head, or the maneuver would have been screwed up.

I nutted as hard as you would imagine I would after an evening's teasing, followed by that semi-unbelievable blowjob. A first, huge rope snaked out across the inches from my tip to her face and just blobbed all over her nose and lips. She kept pumping, and so did I. I looked down, half my mind clear in intellectual fascination, at what I was sending her way, the other half just screaming in ecstasy. My second spurt was smaller, but still powerful enough to bridge the gap and paint her sweet, delicate, left cheek.

She began to gasp happily just as my last, possibly most powerful, and certainly most voluminous rope shot forth. Much of it shot cleanly between her opening lips, all the way to the back of her throat.

Sure. She had just taken my whole cock down her throat easily and repeatedly, and now some spume sends her into a choking, coughing fit!

Her hands kept pumping briefly, but I gasped and asked quickly if she was all right.