The Secret I Discovered Through the Chalet Window

I was twenty when I arrived at the biochemistry faculty, almost eighty kilometers from the village where my parents lived. I had enrolled late, after spending the whole summer torn between staying home or leaving, and that small delay cost me on my first day.

—The residences are all full —the woman at student services told me. She wore thick-rimmed glasses and barely looked up from her computer—. You should have come in July, right after enrolling.

—And now?

—You have two options. Check the notice boards and see if any student is looking for a flatmate. Or try families who offer accommodation to students. They’re usually older couples who prefer having someone around for company.

I called my parents from a booth in the lobby. My mother hesitated at first, but my father convinced her.

—Try a family, son. If they seem like decent people, better than sharing a flat with other boys. You’ll be able to study more peacefully.

I went back to the office and told the woman, who smiled as if she’d been waiting all day for that answer. She searched her system and, after a couple of minutes typing, told me:

—I have a childless couple offering lodging and meals in exchange for company. Very careful people, they’ve been doing this for years. Do you want me to call them?

—Please.

She dialed the number in front of me. They talked for a few minutes. When she hung up, she looked at me kindly.

—They’re walking in the park next to the faculty. They’re coming to pick you up. Wait in the corridor; it’ll take them ten minutes.

I saw them come in through the glass door before they recognized me. A tall man, about fifty-five, with graying hair and a dark blue polo shirt. Beside him, a slightly younger woman, slim, in a white linen dress, her blond hair tied up in a messy bun. They were walking hand in hand, laughing about something he had just whispered into her ear.

The woman at the desk ushered them into the office and called me over.

—Andrés, let me introduce you to Ricardo and Carmen.

He offered me his hand firmly. She gave me two kisses on the cheeks that left behind a trace of floral perfume, soft and understated.

—If you like —said Ricardo— we’ll take you to the chalet. You can eat with us, see the room, call your parents, and then we’ll all decide. No obligation.

I agreed. We left the building and headed to the rear parking lot. Ricardo drove a large, dark car with leather seats. Carmen settled into the front passenger seat and I sat in back. During the thirty-minute drive, they asked me questions without pressure: how old I was, what I was studying, whether I had siblings, if I liked reading, what music I listened to. Carmen kept turning around to look at me, and every time she did, she smiled as if she’d already made up her mind.

—Have you lived away from home before? —she asked.

—Only camps. Not for a whole school year.

—Then we’ll take good care of you.

The development was a kilometer from the edge of town, on elevated ground with views of the pine woods. The chalet was the last house on the street, separated from the others by a tall hedge and a construction fence. A small front garden with lavender plants. A solid wooden door. And inside, a large living room with an open kitchen, two bedrooms at the back, each with its own bathroom, and a huge glass wall overlooking the back garden.

The first thing I saw through the glass wall was the pool.

—This is where we spend most of our free time —said Ricardo, opening the sliding door—. Carmen is a marine biologist, now retired. I worked in architecture. I designed the house twelve years ago, exactly the way we wanted it.

My room had a double bed, a long desk under the window, a built-in closet with full-length mirrors, and a small table with a reading lamp. The window looked directly onto the back garden. The pool.

While Carmen made a paella in the kitchen and Ricardo opened a bottle of white wine, I called my parents from the landline. The five of us talked. Ricardo and Carmen introduced themselves, offered to have my parents visit whenever they wanted, and said exactly what my parents needed to hear. When I hung up, my father had given me the green light.

We ate at the dining table beside the picture window. The paella was perfect. The wine was cold. The conversation flowed. Before coffee, Ricardo looked at me seriously for the first time that afternoon.

—One thing, Andrés. We ask for discretion. What we talk about in this house, what you see in this house, stays between us. Not with your parents, not with your classmates, not with anyone. It’s our way of living, we respect it, and we expect you to respect it too.

—Of course. You have my word.

Carmen smiled at me from the other side of the table. Her eyes were light, almost gray, and there was something in the way she looked at me that made me feel transparent.

—Then it’s a deal.

At five o’clock we went back into town. They dropped me off at the bus station with a promise to see me in mid-September.

***

I arrived on the fifteenth at eleven in the morning, just as we had agreed. A taxi left me at the entrance to the development and I dragged my two suitcases to the end of the street. Ricardo was waiting for me at the chalet door with a coffee in his hand.

—You’re on time. I like that.

We carried the suitcases up to my room. Carmen appeared wearing a light cotton dress, barefoot, her hair still damp from the shower. She hugged me as if she had known me for years.

—You’re home now.

While I unpacked, they offered to take a dip in the pool before lunch.

—If you want, you can join us —said Ricardo from the hallway—. It’s a hot day for mid-September.

—Thanks, I’d rather finish getting organized first.

I closed the bedroom door and focused on hanging shirts in the closet. But after a few minutes I began to hear the sound of water. Laughter. Carmen laughing at something, a free, careless laugh. Ricardo answering her in a deep voice.

I leaned out the window without thinking too much about it.

And then I saw them.

They were both in the water, completely naked. Ricardo had the body of a man who had taken care of his physical shape for decades: broad shoulders, flat stomach, defined arms. Between his legs hung a thick cock, still soft, heavy, with his big balls floating in the water. But it was Carmen who left me frozen. She was leaning against the edge of the pool, arms stretched along the tiles, her tits floating right at the waterline. She had a body that defied her age: narrow waist, soft hips, pink nipples hard from the cold water, standing up like pebbles. Between her open thighs I could see a shaved cunt, the lips peeking out pink beneath the reflection of the water.

Ricardo came up behind her. He kissed her neck. He slid his hands around her waist and slowly moved up to take her tits fully in his hands, squeezing them, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She threw her head back and let out a low moan, almost inaudible from where I was, but perfectly recognizable. He bit her earlobe and pushed his hips against her ass, rubbing his cock, which had already begun to swell against the crack of her ass. Carmen turned in the water, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and devoured his mouth with her tongue while lowering one hand under the water and grabbing his cock, already half hard, and slowly jerking it, measuring it in her fist.

I should move away. I should close the curtain and go back to hanging shirts.

I didn’t move away.

I locked the bedroom door and leaned against it, my heart pounding at my temples. My T-shirt clung to my back with sweat. My pants were tight, the bulge obvious, painful. I ripped them off in a hurry. My briefs had turned into an absurd tent, the wet stain of pre-cum soaking the tip. I took those off too. My cock sprang up hard against my stomach, throbbing, veins raised, the glans purple and swollen.

I went back to the window wearing nothing at all. And I watched.

They had gotten out of the water. Ricardo settled onto one of the two loungers, still wet, his arms behind his head, his cock already semi-erect against his thigh, shameless, thick, with his heavy balls hanging between his spread legs. Carmen came up behind him, ran a hand through his hair, and left a long kiss on his forehead. Then she lay down on the other lounger, open to the sun, her legs apart as if she were alone in the world. From my angle I could see everything: her shaved cunt shining with water, the darker inner lips peeking between the outer ones, the small pink clit at the tip of the slit.

I sat on the edge of the bed, facing the window. I had my cock in my hand before I even thought about it. I started slowly, like I did in my room at home, left palm at the base and the right working the glans with saliva. Pleasure crept up my back, tightened my neck, made my breathing ragged.

Carmen sat up on the lounger. She turned toward Ricardo. Ran a finger over his chest. Down over his belly. Lower. She took his cock in her hand and started jerking him slowly, looking him in the eyes, spitting first on the glans so her fist would slide better. Ricardo’s cock hardened within seconds under her fingers: long, thick, with a pronounced vein running along the top. Carmen bent over his lap without letting go of his cock, stuck out her tongue, and ran it over his balls, one and then the other, coating them with saliva, sucking them one at a time, taking them whole into her mouth. Then she moved up the shaft with her tongue flat, licking from base to tip like she was licking an ice cream, and when she reached the top she opened her mouth and swallowed the glans in one motion.

I sped up, biting my lower lip. I watched Carmen’s blond head begin to rise and fall over Ricardo’s groin, watched his cock disappear completely inside that mouth and come back out shining with saliva, watched her help with her fist, twisting at the base while sucking the head with suction. Ricardo let his head fall back, mouth open, and put a hand on her neck to set the rhythm. She let him do it. She sucked him slowly at first, then faster, pulling him from her mouth only to spit a strand of saliva over the glans and swallow him again to the hilt, until her nose touched his stomach.

This isn’t the first time she’s done this to him. It isn’t the first time he’s let her.

I clenched my teeth. Left hand at the base, pressure. Right hand up and down, setting the pace, palm full of saliva. Ricardo lifted her by the shoulders and set her on her feet in front of him. He kissed her tits, took one nipple whole into his mouth and sucked on it until she let out a loud moan. Then he turned her around and had her brace her hands on the back of the lounger. Carmen spread her legs and arched her back, sticking her ass out. From my window I could see her cunt open, shining with her own wetness, the lips swollen and parted. Ricardo knelt behind her and buried his face between her ass cheeks. He ate her cunt from behind, licking her from top to bottom, sliding his tongue deep inside, sucking her clit from below. Carmen threw her head back and let out a scream that reached my window muffled by the glass.

I fell back onto the bed, eyes fixed on the scene. Ricardo stood up, grabbed his cock by the base, and rubbed the glans against the lips of her cunt, up and down, soaking it. Then he pushed. He drove it all the way in with one thrust. Carmen screamed and her body went rigid at once. He grabbed her hips with both hands and started fucking her from behind, slow at first, pulling almost all the way out and then driving back in deep, until his balls slapped her clit with every thrust. I jerked off in the same rhythm, watching his cock go in and out, shining with her juices, watching Carmen’s ass tremble with every slam of his hips.

Ricardo sped up. He grabbed her blond bun and yanked her head back, fucking her now with quick, hard thrusts, the sound of his hips crashing against her ass reaching me even through the glass. Carmen moaned nonstop, mouth open, her tits bouncing beneath her with each drive. Then he pulled out abruptly, sat down on the lounger, and she climbed on top without thinking, facing him, impaling herself on his wet cock, sinking it all the way to the base. She started riding him, back arched, tits hanging above his face, and he stuck out his tongue to catch her nipples as they bobbed past. She moved in circles, up and down, rubbing her clit against his pubic bone.

I couldn’t hold on any longer. I came in a spasm that shook my whole spine. I tried to swallow the cry and only a broken moan came out. I came over my stomach and thigh, thick, hot jets of semen splashing all the way up to my chest, all at once. I closed my eyes. I breathed, with my cock still throbbing in my hand, dripping onto my fingers.

When I opened them, they were still on the lounger. Ricardo had Carmen hugged against his chest, still inside her, moving now slowly, almost rocking. I saw his face tighten all of a sudden and her dig her nails into his shoulders: Ricardo came inside her with short, deep thrusts while Carmen bit his neck, stifling her own orgasm against his skin. They stayed still, panting, joined together. Then she slowly stood up and a thick thread of semen ran down the inner side of her thigh to her knee. Carmen laughed, ran two fingers through her cunt to collect it, brought them to her mouth, and sucked them while looking him in the eyes. Then she collapsed beside him on the lounger, resting her head on his chest, while he stroked the nape of her neck with the tips of his fingers. A picture of a couple after making love that upset me far more than the scene before it.

I ran to the bathroom. I cleaned off the semen with toilet paper. I got into the shower with the water piping hot, scrubbing my whole body as if I could wash away the guilt too. I dressed in clean jeans and a white T-shirt. I went out into the hallway trying to make sure my face gave nothing away.

***

They were both in the kitchen. Ricardo, in shorts and an open linen shirt. Carmen, in a thin beach tunic, open in front with only a single knot at the waist. It was clear she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. The shape of her nipples showed through the fabric whenever she moved, and when she bent to take something out of the oven, the knot came loose for a moment and I caught a side glimpse of one full breast, still marked with the reddish imprint of his teeth.

—The table is set —she said without looking at me—. White wine or red?

—Whatever you’re having.

We moved into the dining room. The salad. The baked fish. Fresh bread. I tried not to look up from my plate. Ricardo watched me as he poured the wine.

—You’re very quiet, Andrés.

I didn’t know what to say.

—Did you see us in the pool?

I felt the flush rise from my neck to my scalp. I shook my head too fast and knew in that instant that my lie was fooling no one.

Carmen smiled. Ricardo brought the glass to his lips and took a long sip, never taking his eyes off me.

—We’re nudists, Andrés. Nothing more, nothing less. In the privacy of this house we do whatever we want, like any married couple. We fuck wherever we feel like and whenever we feel like it. This is the last house in the development; nobody has a view of the back garden except from inside here. And that means that if you live here, you’re going to see us.

I lowered my eyes to my plate.

—We ask for the same thing we asked for on the first day —Carmen added, in a gentler tone—. Discretion. And respect. Just as we’re going to respect you.

—If this makes you uncomfortable —said Ricardo—, we understand. We’ll help you find a shared flat, no reproaches, no bad vibes. But if you decide to stay, you have to accept that this is our way of living. And you’re going to see it.

I looked up at them. Carmen had her hands folded on the table. Ricardo waited for my answer without hurry.

—I’m staying.

—Are you sure?

—I am.

Carmen raised her glass.

—To our secrets, then.

We toasted, the three of us. When the glasses clinked, Carmen held my gaze a second too long. Just long enough for me to understand that my first year of biochemistry was going to teach me far more than I had come looking for.