Sylvan Courtyard 5: Fair Play Again

She was flirting with me... right?

Um...

I leaned back and to the side in my chair. "I am highly observant. And I like to help out with what I see." I may have let my eyes drift downward as I spoke to her, just like I had been doing more and more in class.

The white business shirts she wore were never tight, but they were tailored perfectly to ensure that a discerning eye could make out the general quality of their contents. I was discerning things quite closely.

Images, as often happened when I looked at her, danced in the periphery of my consciousness. Today, they were images of me slowly unbuttoning that blouse myself, rather than the more anime-tinged fantasies I usually had of her ripping the thing open for me.

"Well, you certainly have been helpful to Him," Professor Th... Mandy said, just barely tartly, and in obvious reference to my mentor. "He's been almost as productive as his reputation would have him, ever since you've been keeping his work in line," As I would have expected with the two of them, her evaluation seemed to impress and simultaneously irritate her.

"As I said, I like to make everybody happy in my professional and my private endeavors, Mandy," I replied with a self-deprecating smile. "But I think he's just reached..."

"Mandy?" she interrupted me challengingly, an elegant eyebrow arching far clear above her thick-rimmed glasses. Her eyes, so gigantic-seeming behind the thick lenses, glittered.

Yikes. I could feel my reins being yanked.

"I... um, I've just been trying to be more collegial," I stammered. "I'm sorry. I just, I've been told that I need to, um, act more like a scientist in my... um... own right."

She snorted, her expression softening... a little. "I suppose you should at that. And I'll never be teaching you in a class again, so no slap down for you, Mr. Hawthorne. I hope you don't mind if I call you that to remind you that colleague or no, you haven't earned the doctor title yet either!"

I shrugged ruefully. Message received. Professionally and, unfortunately, personally, I was still a puppy to her.

She smiled a little more warmly, but still with an edge. "But your coming into your own as a scientist aside, I hope that man has not been filling your head with ideas about this place, just to keep your valuable self around," she said, leaning in carefully.

"No, he has not," I said, defending my mentor. "He has been clear for over a year that there is no future for me here." I tried to appear relaxed about how everyone wanted my ass gone from the cradle of my intellectual maturation. "The dean himself told me in no uncertain terms that if I wish to stay here, an adjunct position is mine for the asking, and my fellowship would easily be extended. He then said I would be a madman to accept his offer."

"He does love the word madman," Mandy chortled. "But he is right."

"I do wish all of you would accept that I don't need to be told this over and over again," I said, letting some of my considerable irritation surface for the first time in a while when this subject came up. I wanted to stop being looked at as a terrified fledgling being kicked out of the nest. I also wanted to stop being a student in her eyes, regardless of any more intimate ambitions clearly being out the window. "I am quite confident in my ability to find a place at another university where I can flourish," I said clearly, letting a smirk cross my lips, "at the top of our field."

"Ha!" she snorted. "My advice to you is to keep that ballsy energy when you start interviewing for positions, but don't let it reach your words so explicitly."

I nodded calmly. Then I went back to checking her out. Checking her out was very gratifying in its own right, and she had made no indication that she objected to it in principle. She just didn't want me getting unrealistic ambitions.

"I am sure, in fact I know, that The Man is making efforts to help you find a place to go from here," she said, leaning back in her chair. It was a change in posture that, intentional or not, did nothing to reduce the quality of my view.

Ah, the things I would do to and for this woman if only she deigned to let me...

"But I have my own network in our field," she added firmly. "I suppose I really ought to make some efforts for you on my part as well."

"Why, thank you," I said, meaning it. I still was not sure how long it would be until I was invited to defend my thesis, but I was starting to realize that I needed to be thinking about the future, in real, near-term terms.

She smiled. "So, now that you have gotten what you came for, I will send you on your way, so I can work," she said, sitting up and staring at the papers on her desk. "If I find anything out that would interest you, I will send you an email. Have a good day, Ken."

Well, it was not what I came for, but it was possibly more important. Every possible lead I could discover might be the one that would take me to the right university. I would love to fuck this woman, but I would love a great place to launch my career far more...

I was expecting help in my eventual job search from my mentor. I was even hoping for some help from the chairman of the department. I had been sucking up to him enough lately. And I had been doing some of my own search, of course. But blind letters were seldom much use, and I needed insight on where to send them. I could not just send a few emails to Harvard and Princeton and expect to find a position.

Also, no way would I want to work at either place these days. Ditto Cal, Stanford, or any other Pacific Coast schools.

But help unlooked for from another leader in my general field, someone like Mandy, would be invaluable. My future was potentially brighter, even if my dick was sad.

*

Two days later, well after sundown, I was just cleaning up after some very nice quesadillas that I had made for myself, and considering a second glass of South African Pinotage, when a knock hit my door. I held off on the wine and answered the door. I wasn't sure who it might be, but if I was going to pour two glasses, I'd have to open a new bottle of something.

It was Jane from across the way.

Jane, whom I had watched having sex with some random guy I did not know, about a week ago.

Jane, whose wife and I had traded handjob for fingerbang while watching said event.

Jane, whom I had successfully avoided (along with said wife) since then.

Jane, whom I did not know for sure if her wife had told about our watching.

Jane... my friend.

"Jane! What's... up?" I asked, aiming for brightly, but landing on nervously.

"Hey, Ken! Haven't seen you all week," Jane replied briskly, sweeping past me into my apartment as if I had invited her. I sure as fuck did not try to stop her, despite the idea that doing so might be a good idea entering my head... once it was already too late.

"What can I do for you, Jane?" I asked, still nervous. Moreso, now that she was all the way inside my home.

"Rhonda says we owe you a good bottle. I thought now would be a great time to pay up," Jane said brightly, holding out a bottle gift bag my mind had not registered she held until now.

"Thank you, I... wait," I said, automatically reaching out for the offered bag, then pausing. "What do you owe me a bottle for?"

Jane just looped the cords of the gift bag over my still-outstretched hand. "For? For all the wine she drank when she was over here on your balcony last week. Don't tell me you've forgotten the show?"

"Oh... So you..."

Shit. She knew.

Jane laughed sweetly. Genuinely sweetly. "Honey, you didn't think Rhonda wasn't going to tell me all about what you guys saw? The way the two of us handle sex needs full disclosure. I know she watched. I know you watched, too," she added teasingly. I'm pretty sure it was the way my eyes went huge and round that made her laugh.

"So you..." Had Rhonda told her everything?

"Yes. Relax. But you have to live with me knowing that you watched too. And knowing that you have a very nice cock and gentle fingers!" Jane added with an evil laugh. The laugh was evil but it let me off the final hook of anxiety. Now I just had to deal with my mind being fully boggled.

"Oh God!" I gurgled. "So what made you just decide to quote, have mercy on me, unquote, and come tell me that you know?"

"First, I could tell you've been avoiding me ever since that night. I saw you duck into the public restroom by the mailboxes when I came in Wednesday. I want to reassure you that I'm cool with what happened. We are both cool with it--since you've been avoiding Rhonda too." She looked at me with a serious but friendly expression. "You can go back to being chill with us, okay?"

"I just was..."

"Chill. Okay?" Jane said firmly. I was being given a message, and it was clear I was to listen to it. "Now, pour me something good. Not as good as what's in that bag. Save that for a special occasion. A nice SB, maybe?"

The idea of being a good host saved my poor, paralyzed brain from starting to shut down essential bodily functions, and I leapt to my fridge to grab a spiffy little French Sauvignon Blanc from the supposedly less desirable part of the Loire. Honestly, the wine was a steal, and I planned to present the bottling at the next beer/wine club meeting. The club would be focusing on wine the next time.

I grabbed two fresh glasses and poured us each a nice basic pour.

"Oh come on, we are going to want more than that," Jane chuckled, waving her glass for a full pour. I obliged, for both of us. I did need a stiff belt. Had Jane left after dropping her bomb, I'd have switched to gin.

"Thanks," she said, taking her full glass and walking toward my sliding glass door. "How has your week been?"

So bemused was I at her appearance at my door, and her subesequent rather extraordinary conversational gambit, that I actually told her. "I kind of tried to make a pass at a recently ex-professor and got shot down, in a somehow good way. It was just a silly thought, anyway. I will survive."

"Wow! Who?" Jane asked, happily scandalized.

"I should really not say."

"Bro. I'm an administrator, you know," she laughed. "I'm going to know who it was by looking at your transcript the second I hit the office tomorrow."

"Fuck," I grumbled. Me ad me big mouth. Then I admitted, "Mandy Thames."

Her eyes widened. "Amanda Thames? You hunt big game. And you do know she was married to..."

"Yes."

She whistled admiringly. Then she looked me up and down. "Yeah, I'm almost surprised you didn't pull it off."

"Thanks. I think," I snapped just a little.

She laughed and tugged the slider open. "It's gorgeous out. Let's go chill outside."

I shook my head and followed. If she had come over here to make me feel better and relax, she was both succeeding and failing.

She went around the corner and sat on the loveseat facing her own apartment. I was tired and didn't feel like leaning on the railing, so I plopped down next to her, leaning against the other armrest.

"Jane, I uh... I do appreciate you and Rhonda thinking to let me off the hook for how I was feeling," I started.

"Not a problem. Once we figured out you were suddenly avoiding us, we spent five minutes feeling insulted, then we realized what was probably actually bothering you."

I raised my glass to her, and we toasted. I valued and enjoyed both women's friendships, and I started to relax now that things were out in the open. We each took a sip and enjoyed the crisp, refreshing wine. There were more grapefruit notes than you usually get in French Sauvignon Blancs.

"Well, thank you," I said. "What made you decide to come over to alleviate my worries tonight? And why not Rhonda too?"

"Duh," Jane said. "Because Rhonda has a date tonight," she snorted, pointing over across the way at their apartment. "And while I am cool with her having watched me, I want a turn of my own."

In growing... horror? Arousal? I turned to look for myself. Across the pool, I could easily see that their curtains were closed, but the porch light was turned off, even though its timer had hours to go before shutting off automatically. In their living room, Rhonda was standing, drinking brown liquor on the rocks, with a short, powerfully built dude who looked to be a couple of years older than me, with thick blonde hair.

Oh.

Rhonda had on a lovely cocktail dress of exactly the sort she never seemed to wear.

"That... is not her usual attire," I gasped, before taking a huge slug of wine.

"This guy seemed to be the sort to want a more feminine look," Jane said. "Rhonda can girl-up with the best of them."

I was actually relaxed enough to tease her a little. "Believe me, both of you are most undoubtedly girls full-time."

"Letch," she retorted. "I mean that my lovely wife over there, as you can see, looks like a man's wet dream in a dress or skirt. Whenever I put on anything other than pants, I look like a great, clomping dyke."

"Bullshit," I said, finally sort of relaxing. Sort of. "If you really believe that, I assure you, it's all in your mind."

"No, really," Jane said, a little genuine frustration, even possibly a little jealousy toward her wife in her voice. "Even Rhonda agrees, though she adamantly refuses to admit it."

"See? In your mind."

"Yeah?" Jane said archly, taking a sip of the wine. "This is good, by the way. But Rhonda knows. She got me the absolutely sexiest black, sequined number for Christmas. It has a mandarin neckline and keyhole cleavage so deep I can't wear a bra with it. Fits me perfectly."

I was momentarily diverted by my mind trying to picture Jane in such an outfit. "And you look good in it?" I said, asking the obvious question.

"Like a million bucks. Even straight women and gay guys got a little drooly when I wore in on New Year's Eve."

"There you go then. The right dress looks just fine on Jane Enny," I said with a laugh.

"It's a jumpsuit, dipshit," Jane snorted. "That's my point. Deep down, Rhonda knows I can't pull off a dress either, whatever she claims."

I should have continued with some more supportive banter, but my brain was just overloaded with processing other things. First, I had to go back and redraw the image in my mind of Jane in her Christmas gift...

Fuck, the image of her in a jumpsuit, probably with flaring pants legs and a tight fit across her pert little ass really was a lot better in my mind's eye, even over the dress I had pictured, with its hip-high slit. But the image wavered.

Most of my mental processing, and I sensed Beth's as well, had been focused over across the way for a while now. As we had been speaking, Rhonda and her hapless one-time wonder over there had been progressing rapidly from casual conversation, to ever closer body language, to hands around each other's waists, to the current torrid kiss they were sharing.

Whoever the guy was, he liked the feel of Rhonda's ass in his hands. "He moves fast," I observed. I realized my throat was a little dry, and sounded it, so I took a deep pull on my wine.

Yes, I am aware that you take a pull of beer. You sip wine. Sue me.

"I imagine," Jane replied drily, though with a little dry-mouth tone as well, "that since Derrek knows this is his only shot, he is anxious to make the most of it. I sure would be."

"So he knows that already? Are you sure?" I asked. One of Derrek's hands remained deeply clamped upon Rhonda's backside, but the other had slid up her back and his fingers were laced through her hair, pulling her face even harder against his own.

"We have found that full disclosure in advance is a very, very good idea," Jane said firmly. "And with someone like Derrek, whom Rhonda has been speculating about for some time, he's probably known about the one-and-done rule longer than he's known he might get to be subject to that rule."

He slid his hand back down Rhonda's back. She was turned slightly toward us, so it wasn't until we saw her dress slide off her shoulders, then down her body to pool around her ankles that Jane and I realized he had been unzipping her. Because of the way the sleeveless, shoulderless dress was constructed, Rhonda did not even have to release her embrace of Derrek for the dress to fall off her entirely.

"Rhonda isn't the only one over there who can pull off a dress well," I observed.

"That was smooth wasn't it?" Jane observed breathily. "I'm not sure even Rhonda knew it was happening until it did."

"She seems to approve," I said. "A lot."

Once her dress had settled to the floor, Rhonda grabbed Derrek's hand that had unzipped her and pulled it between them to rest on a delicious breast. Her other hand slid from his back, around and down to massage the bulge in his suit pants. I knew how good that hand was at massaging...

But most of my attention was on how I could finally have a full, unobstructed view of Rhonda's tits, if only from a distance. They were larger but not as firm as Jane's impressively delicate breasts, but they sloped gorgeously, and even at this distance they seemed to move in a constant series of jiggles and bobs. Her nipples seemed bigger too, and were certainly darker.

I let my gaze swiftly slide to Jane beside me. Yep. I could tell that, as was her usual practice, she did have a bra on under the light cotton shell she wore. Too bad. No up-close pokies for me tonight.

All Rhonda had left on was a pale blue thong that was very high-waisted. The two of them continued to kiss and grope each other, slowly turning around in a circle as they stood in the center of the room. Her ass, not so much covered as framed by the scrap of blue fabric, was a work of art. Generous, though not to a fault, its sweet curves were flawless.

I shook my head. "Damn it, Jane. Your wife is fucking hot."

"Don't I know it," she sighed in reply, as rapt at the view as I.

Suddenly, I stiffened. I mean my body stiffened. My cock had done that quite a while ago. "She knows I'm watching too, doesn't she?" I half asked, half accused.

Jane smiled at me. "That was the plan. It seemed like a good balance. And good payment for the viewing platform. I'm pretty sure that little pirouette she led them through was for you, to get you a good look."

I had to laugh. At myself and the situation. "Your wife is not only hot, hot as you, but she is awesome too!" We clinked our glasses.

Yes, I had slid in a compliment to Jane beside me. I didn't care if she was fully on board with what Rhonda was doing, watching their wife sexing up some dude had to leave a person needing some validation for themselves.

Someday, I would hopefully let myself fall in love again, when I could do so safely... when I could do so permanently. What Jane and Rhonda did seemed to work for them. It would never work for me.

Actually, in the moment I was a huge fan of how the two of them were choosing to live. Thoroughly. But you know what I mean...

Derrek tugged at Rhonda's thong eagerly, but she gently pulled his hands away with the garment still firmly ensconced between her delectable buns. Instead, she began to tug gently at his fly instead. He desisted in his efforts.

See kids, when a half-naked woman as hot as Rhonda tells you to stop what you are doing so she can take off your pants, you stop what you are doing so she can take off your pants, even if what you stop doing was trying to get her the last little bit naked.

Their circling ceased, and they came to a stop with Rhonda squatting down while facing about three-quarters away from our direction. This gave me a great view of her cheeks pulled tight by her position and a nice bit of side boob while she unzipped Derek.

"Your wife is still making sure I have a great view," I breathed quietly.

With expert skill, Rhonda made short work of pulling down both Derrek's pants and underwear. His thin cock sprung up eagerly before her, extending out between the tails of the white dress shirt he still wore.