Chapter 4 - South African Housewife
January 5, 2019
I smiled as I closed the door behind Hannah, but not before noticing that Jenny Defoe's peep hole went from dark to light. It seemed that either Jenny or Gregory was curious about me and Hannah, or maybe they were just curious about who was just outside their door. I couldn't know for certain, so with a shrug, I went back to my bathroom and took a long hot shower.
11:00 am - 12:00 pm - Unscheduled
I returned to my deck table around 11 o'clock and realized I left my coffee behind earlier. Never one afraid of cold coffee, I flipped open a book I recently purchased and took a swig. It was still good!
The sun had climbed higher in the sky with my absence and now it was 70 degrees outside and warm enough for shorts and a t-shirt. Which was exactly what I was wearing. It was also warm enough that Sabina from apartment 101 came out in a very small purple bikini and laid out on a deck chair despite being 7 months pregnant.
After Sabina, it was as if all of the women in the building coordinated to come out and sunbathe, one right after the other. Jenny came out next, looking flustered and upset in a green macro-mesh micro-thong bikini and laying out in a chair as Gregory followed. Upon seeing me, he asked if he could join me at the table, and so, I invited him to sit as Jenny cast a fearful glance in our direction.
Hannah followed Jenny, wearing a white 1 piece french cut thong bathing suit and came up to the deck and laid out on a beach chair nearest me with a naughty smile. I pretended to ignore her and read, but in fact I was watching Gregory as he carefully ogled all the women on the deck. When he looked back to me I resumed reading my book.
I was on chapter 2 when Jenny rolled over from laying on her back to her belly. Looking up, I took note of the delightful sight of the generous rolling hills of her bare ass cheeks, and of how her chestnut skin glistened under the sun's light, and how her thick legs curved from her ankles to her calves to the back of her knees up the backs of her thighs to her mountainous buttocks. The way her thighs met between her legs curving gently from her knees to just barely touching, hiding her pussy between them.
"She's something else isn't she," Gregory said in a low tone, as he sat back from leaning forward.
"Pardon," I asked.
"My wife, Jenny," Gregory answered, his voice strangely husky with a thick note of perversion as he nodded his head in her direction, "She's quite the sight to behold isn't she."
Closing my book, I set it on the table and took a sip of my coffee as I weighed him on my personal scales of prejudice. I hated prejudging people, but nevertheless, I got a scumbag feeling from him. Meeting his gaze I answered, "I make it a point to not discuss a man's wife either right in front of, or with him."
"But you don't mind leering at her in front of me. Is that it," He answered sarcastically.
Looking at Jenny admiringly then I glared back at him. "I figure if a husband lets his wife leave the home wearing something provocative enough to attract a leering eye, he has allowed it because he likes men looking at her. As for me, I feel that to deny the presence of a beautiful woman and ignore her is an insult to her and the effort she has expended in adorning herself in a manner by which to attract my attention, and it's tantamount to denying the presence of the sun, moon, or air."
Smiling lopsidedly, Gregory nodded and winked that he understood as he leaned in and growled, "Quite right! I can respect that, after all, beautiful women are impossible to ignore, especially when they want your attention!"
Looking at Hannah lustfully he leaned back and continued, "As for talking about wives in front of their husbands; I agreed with you there as well. You never know what type of man you're talking to, the crazy, perverted, jealous, or homicidal maniac type."
"Exactly," I agreed, keeping my expression and voice as neutral as I could.
"So, have you fucked her yet," Gregory asked point blank.
"Pardon," I asked again, this time my voice colored with audible disbelief.
"As you said, a husband would let his wife leave the home dressed as Jenny is unless he's into her being ogled... or even... more, if you take my meaning. So, have you... fucked... my wife," He asked again.
I glared at him, then cut my eyes to look at Jenny's lovely behind again before I returned to Gregory and answered, "Goodbye, Mister Defoe."
It took a minute for him to realize that he had been dismissed, and I watched as he went through several stages of emotion from humiliation to rage. It was only when it seemed like he was about to let his temper get the better of him that I spoke up again, this time in a low growl only he and I could hear, "Right now, Mister Defoe, I am dismissing you from my presence because you are crass and disrespectful of me, your wife, and yourself. If you have proof of your accusations then prescient it! Otherwise, if you make any further scene or do anything other than leave my presence now, I will not only dismiss you from my table but also from my apartment complex. Do you understand?"
He looked taken aback and uncertain, then looked over and admired his wife's ass. I followed his gaze and admired Jenny as well as she adjusted her position on the deck chair. Lowering the back 15 degrees so her breasts wouldn't arch her back painfully while she rested her head on her arms. The whole process made her gravid breasts hang like ripe fruit swinging pendulously and her ass bounce and jiggle in a wonderful way.
Gregory looked back at me and smiled, cock sure of himself, and leaned forward to ask, "Would you really kick Jenny out to the street? Especially after having fucked her?"
Tearing my eyes from Jenny's ass, I looked him straight in the eyes, my voice as cold and sharp as steel, "Not Jenny, just you... and yes, I will kick you out in a New York second!"
Gregory harrumphed as he stood up, "I'm sure we'll speak again."
I scowled at him as he turned and left to go back inside Jenny's apartment.