My girlfriend looked absolutely stunning and none of it was for me. I could be certain none of it was for me because I would have to leave, and I would have to leave because another guy was coming over.



Her name was Grace and we were on a break. Seeing other people. But seeing as she was the one with the long, wavy dark-red hair, green eyes, creamy skin, lips that always smirked, a perfect ass and a generous B-cup, it was pretty obvious to everyone in the room who was going to have a better night. I needed to respect that though.



But I couldn't. I wasn't playing it cool at all. She was wearing a classic-looking navy-blue blouse with a white collar. She looked infuriatingly cute. This was her version of dressing up to seduce, whether or not she realized it. Instead of wearing less she wore things you wanted to tear off more than anything else in the world. Most of her just wanted to look as nice as possible, as any girl does. But some silent part of her told her to put on that lipstick and couldn't have not seen how man-eatingly good she looked in it in such an adorable way. "You're going to fuck him, I know it," I kept saying, trying to sound like I was just teasing even though we both knew I was just being kind of sad. It's something she didn't usually do or anything, I was just feeling really insecure; she looked amazing and hadn't been this single in a very long time. We'd been dating a couple years, and had even talked about getting married, but something was missing. The idea of seeing other people was all very new. She had never had casual sex with someone, and had only been with four other guys before me. We knew in our hearts we were going to wind up together, but we knew right now that if that was ever going to be a thing we need to let off some early-20s steam. That's what we told ourselves anyways.



"I'm not going to fuck him, you need to get out of here, he's coming over!"



"Oh come on, now you're kicking me out of my apartment?" It was unclear to us both if I was joking.



"Greg, you told me I could have him over and now he's coming over and he's almost here, you need to leave!" She could see that she was kind of kicking my out of my apartment at this point and started to feel bad for me, or rather sorry for me. Here she was all dressed up to introduce our Corgi to some other guy in an apartment containing a lot of my things. An apartment containing only one queen-sized bed. "Don't worry, I probably won't even be an hour, we're just going to watch a show and talk or something," she said.



Her huge green eyes blinked and waited for me to leave.



"Keep your phone on," I said.



"I will," she replied.



She twirled her denim-looking light-blue skirt around and turned to walk down the short hall to our bedroom, assuming I was going to leave, so I did.



***



I walked around for a while and tried to pass the time. I stopped into a bar and got a couple drinks. I walked into a gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes, which I don't usually do. I figured I'd smoke two and walk around the block a couple times and see if she had texted me. I put my phone on silent so as not to just be sitting there feeling it not-vibrate as Grace did god-knows-what with lord-knows-who. Still nothing.



I started to feel a little indignant; a little entitled. It was my apartment too, and it was a weeknight for god's sake. Work ends late for young people with part-time jobs in Los Angeles, which I guess he had, but I had to be up early; it was a weeknight after all and I had left the apartment at 9:30. It was now approaching 11:00.



I still had a key to the apartment. Maybe she was spiting me? She wouldn't do that would she? Things had been more or less fine, although I had left a little strangely. Maybe they had gone out and she had felt rude about even picking up her phone. She was pretty shy and apologetic after all, she figured I was fine and I do generally stay up pretty late. Maybe they had somehow accidentally fallen asleep during a movie. Either way, it was worth a look through a window out back behind the apartment, and I had my keys. It was my apartment after all I kept telling myself.



I unlocked the front door and walked down the long, warmly lit hallway, past my apartment 106, out the back door, around the corner, and past the laundry room. Back here there were a bunch of windows into our apartment and seeing as we usually left them open for fresh air, I could at least hear what was going on. It was my lucky day, because not only was the window to my bedroom open, but the blinds were only half-drawn and I could see right in.



Could that really be Grace? That was our bed, the headboard facing the left side of the room from where I was, the view of the window directly perpendicular to it about seven feet away. This was our room, lit just dimly enough for me to see everything and for them to have difficulty seeing outside into the night through the screen, even though I could see in perfectly.



My eyes traced down, from her half-lit face with her lips hanging open, down to the bristled nipple of her left tit hanging over the face of this strange guy, a guy whose balls she was sitting on as she ground her smooth, naked hips against his legs, gyrating forward and back at an ecstatic pace. The brass headboard smacked repeatedly against the wall, like she was trying to use his cock as a joystick to destroy the partition to our neighbors, who no doubt could hear.



I slumped down into a chair I had put out back under the window. I would sit out there while I smoked, just outside the back window as I would talk with Grace, listen to her get ready for something. It was a space that anyone in the apartment could access, but since all the windows in what was a pretty uninviting "back yard" saw into our apartment, it was more or less our turf, and I left a couple chairs out there. We didn't worry about people stealing them. We were comfortable enough to leave the window open after all.



I sat with my hair in my hands as I heard her faintly exhaling her steam every couple of brass bedpost-knocks against the wall. I texted her to please let me know when she was done, that it had been a while and I needed sleep. The sound of her double-ding iPhone tone mixed together with the knocking and her heavy breathing became an almost cartoonish voyeuristic soundtrack. I sat there, one fist propping my head up, the other unable to resist touching myself through my jeans.



Sex doesn't lead to anything else. It is what it is, the ultimate. She was doing this for her, because she wanted whoever this guy was, and I was outside.



I didn't know what to do. I sat there as time passed and I listened to them. Even though I was almost positive they couldn't see me, and that they were too distracted to care but I certainly wasn't going to leave and just not know all the things I could know, all the things I knew she wasn't going to tell me, especially now that I had a front seat to an open vein of information and stimulation. That's what the devil on my shoulder was telling me anyways.



I peeked up once in a while. It became a sort of slide show of sexual acts; thumbnail images and porn-ad gifs for different fantasies starring Grace and whoever this guy was. I was at times insanely jealous, and at other times insanely turned on. I never got a good look at his cock because it was always at least mostly inside of her whenever I looked up. The sound of their mixed breathing and moans became a constant interrupted only by her playful laughter and a chuckle from him or a playful smack from one or both of them, or the cupped noise of skin against skin.



I heard them laugh over a jingling as our Corgi found a way up onto the bed to try and figure out who this new guy was. "Get down Peanut," she laughed. They laughed as he apparently wouldn't get off. "Pean-uh," she was cut off by a spike of pleasure ending in a gasp that caused her to have just said "peen." They both laughed at this as he kept fucking her, the laugh turning more and more into a moan until the whole event had caused them to, at least from what I heard sitting in that chair, pick up the pace and reach a new level of heat. Nothing is sexier than laughter.



At one point, one of the times I couldn't look away for nearly a minute, she faced out the window, on her side. I could see the was much older than me, probably 34 or so. Grace had joked about liking older men, but the jokes weren't so funny to me now. He was handsome, had dark features, a beard that looked full but didn't take up too much space, dark wavy hair and hazel eyes. He didn't seem fit so much as he seemed thin but he definitely didn't seem wiry. But then again at this point I was just judging by the forearm that ended in the hand that was massaging Grace's tit. She had told me the guy coming over was our age so I guessed he was going to be 25 or 26 or something at most. This guy was not 26. I could tell he was taller than me by the way he currently had her enveloped into a little ball, gently sliding in and out of her. "I'm so glad you didn't finish in my mouth," I heard her say, and I realized I had probably missed a lot. The angel on my shoulder kept me from being bummed I didn't get to see it by assuring me it was none of my business.



I looked at my phone. 12:43 A.M. They had been fucking for at least an hour and fifteen minutes. I knew because a friend of mine had texted me that he wanted to come over and hang out at 11:30 when they had been well underway. I stood up from sitting in what had become my sort of cuckold listening chair. I looked in to see if it was a good idea for my friend to come over, and seeing as Grace's legs were propped up an draped over the guy's shoulders and I could see pretty clearly that one of the tenants of the apartment was being entered, I decided it would be best to respect her privacy and told him it wasn't a good time and we could hang out tomorrow. I had started jokingly referring to what was going on in my head to pass the time, convincing myself to get upset over how long they were taking. This kind of cocky and entitled attitude came and went when it came to the voyeuristic activity I had picked up for the night. She was the one having the fun I thought, and she was probably going to lie about it too, and it was my apartment, and on and on.



But it always really came back to two things: I could be inside if I were doing what he were doing, but I'm not, because she wanted it from him and not from me. And he wasn't just inside my apartment. He was inside my Grace.



After a certain point I couldn't take it anymore. I got up from my chair as quietly as I could, and walked passed the laundry room and around to the back entrance of the apartment. I swung open the back door to the long hallway. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked by the doors of our neighbors; maybe they were having sex too. Maybe they were making dinner. I knew the girl that lived in apartment 106 was having sex, it was just that I wasn't there for it. I could just barely hear them as I arrived outside the door. They were being louder than when I first walked through. If the guy that lived a few feet across the hall walked out he would definitely hear her getting fucked and see me not fucking her. I should move, but where? I imagined ducking inside. They definitely wouldn't hear the door open. I could watch through the French-windowed doors. Maybe if she rode him I could watch, see him snaking up into her. I stopped myself, realizing what a pervert I had become in mere hours.



Then the sounds stopped. For a second I thought of running; maybe they had finally finished. Would he be out soon? That would be awkward. He probably knew what I looked like because there was a picture in the living room of me and the girl he just fucked. I kept listening for voices. I heard her laugh. Was she saying goodbye? Then I heard a repetitive smacking. It grew louder, faster, and more consistent. I heard her gasp. That was enough. I pounded hard on the door a few times and walked swiftly out back where I could see how they were reacting from the cover of darkness. I was worried I had blown it all. I knew there was probably going to be a confrontation about all this but now she would figure out I was watching.



But when I went around back I didn't see the two of them hustling to get their clothes back on and work out an exit strategy. I saw the characteristic freckle on the left cheek of Grace's ass gently rippling with the force of the guy's hips as he brought her to meet the base of his shaft over and over again. She loved getting fucked from behind and started to add intonation to her gasps as his balls swung against her wet clit.



"Don't stop," I heard her say. Any man worth his weight knows that phrase is a reflexive sound girls make when they're terrified that you'll stop doing whatever you're doing. It's no wonder she didn't bother to answer the door when I knocked. She probably didn't hear, and even if she did, she was on the end of this guy's cock, not mine, and from there only getting closer to where she really wanted to be. I could tell. I knew what she sounded like when she was about to cum. I had no idea who this guy was, whose knees were bare and on my bed, whose hands were around Grace's soft waist. But he began to grunt, in time with his breathing, every other smack of his pelvis against her ass, which was becoming louder and faster, smack, smack, smack, smack.



Then I heard her. She was usually pretty quiet but as he swelled inside of her and gritted a hissy "ah fuck" I heard a sort of whimper escape Grace, but a loud one that sort of tumbled out. It clearly caught her off guard. He pulled out to jerk the finish onto her back, and for the first time I saw that he was quite a bit longer than me. I'm actually pretty thick, but he was nearly as thick as I am but probably nearly eight inches. Beads and streaks of pearly cum shot onto and over her back, some of it missing her completely. I heard the scratchy sliding of the window of an upstairs neighbor who had also generally left it open. She had probably been putting up with the awkward sounds for the fresh air but that last one did it. I wondered if she had heard, if she knew; what she had heard that I hadn't. It felt weird that Joan upstairs probably knew a lot about Grace's sex tonight that I didn't. She had to know someone downstairs was having sex and that last sound didn't sound like me; we'd spoken in the laundry room. And that was definitely Grace, that sound just now. I had just never heard it before, not quite like that.



"I'll be right back," the guy said, leaving to go get tissues to clean her up. Then it was just Grace on all fours in our bed, some other guy's cum on her back. She reached over for her phone, looked at it briefly, then started typing away. I felt a vibrate in my pocket, and it was from Grace: 'Hey sorry I'm just getting these, we've been watching a movie and I didn't want to be rude, I'll text you when you should come back.' The guy re-entered the frame of the window with tissue.



"Sorry, it's just the guy I was telling you about," she said to him, apologizing for the phone being out as he dabbed wads of toilet paper on her back. Yep, this was definitely Grace.



"No worries. I mean I have literally no reason to be jealous of him." They both laughed.



"Very true," she said. She continued typing away on her phone. Another vibrate in my pocket.



Grace: 'Come back in like fifteen minutes okay? We're just finishing the movie.'



"We have time," I heard her say, "it's just that he has keys and I have no idea how close he is and I'm worried he's gonna come back and your dick is still gonna just be hanging like that."



"Would he just randomly come back when you're hanging out with a guy? I thought you guys were on a break and he knew we were hanging out tonight."



"Yeah he might. And we are on a break, but you never know with him. And like I said he'd be jealous if he came back and saw your dick just hanging like that."



"Hanging like what," he finally asked, laughing. I could see it. It hung in a way mine never did. Grace stepped into the frame and reached down to cup the flaccid tip of his dick in the center of her palm. She pushed it up, letting it bend and fall and flop, and brought her re-hardening nipples close to his chest as they kissed and she stroked her hand down the huge, loose shaft, feeling her wetness on his glistening cock. She stopped suddenly, laughing defeatedly.



"You have to go he's gonna come back, we're gonna get started again." She slapped his chest. He reached down for his briefs, pulled them up and had to tuck himself into them. It was time for me to go. "He has work tomorrow though," I heard her say as I turned the corner to walk out the side gate that only opened from the inside. When I finally got the text I would need to seem like I was coming from somewhere else.



***



When I walked in Grace was wearing a white cotton robe. She looked up at me and was immediately genuinely friendly.



"Hey, the movie ended earlier than I remembered and I decided to hop in the shower real quick." I laughed a little. I didn't really mind she had done what she had. Now that the moment had passed I almost kind of saw her as a special friend that got laid. In fact it had been kind of hot.



"Why, was it a dirty movie?"



"Ha ha, very funny," she said. "Why the fuck would I watch porn with a stranger?"



"You wouldn't, I was definitely joking," I laughed, sending a nearly-accusatory smirk her way. Someone was being defensive.



Bojack Horseman was playing on the TV. She reached for the remote to the media box and turned off Netflix.



"I'm pretty tired, you wanna go to bed?" she asked.



"Aren't you gonna tell me about your hot date?" I asked, smiling genuinely.



"Maybe tomorrow," she said stretching back, a smile also on her face. She knew I knew she had something she was going to tell me, but for now we were gonna be coy.



"What movie did you watch?" I asked as we walked one in front of the other down the thin hall to our bedroom.



"Pulp Fiction, he had never seen it before."



"Geeze, who is this guy?" I joked. "What was his name?" I spied a torn and empty condom wrapper next to the edge of the bed: what? The room had been cleaned earlier that today, so it was obviously his, but he hadn't worn one.



Also, she had hastily re-made the bed. She definitely didn't have time to have taken a shower. "Didn't want to get your hair wet before going to bed?" I asked, keeping up the playfulness of the accusations, essentially vaccinating the inevitable awkwardness of our post-her-date situation, an awkwardness we both knew we were going to face.



"Nope, just a body shower" she said. "Here, turn around for a second, I just want to change into my pajamas." We were respecting each others' privacy while we were on a break. I turned to look out the window through which I had seen it all. Nothing but milky blackness outside the window. There was no way they ever could have known I was there. I didn't mind not getting to see her naked right now. It was hot enough that I got to see it earlier when she was showing it to someone else.



"You never told me what his name was," I said.



"Okay fine, but first name only," she replied.



"Of course." There was a long pause.



"Eric," she finally said. "Why do you want to know anyways?"



"I just wanted to know who these sheets smelled like," I laughed. She smacked me playfully on the shoulder in the darkness of our bedroom.



"Good joke," she shot back. She was denying it, and probably would until tomorrow at least. But the sheets unmistakably smelled like someone else. The presence of the condom wrapper confused me as I drifted off to sleep. I had seen her hand on his bare cock. And even before then I had seen it going into her bare. I guess I would have more questions for her in the morning than I thought.