It was a combination of things really. To start with I was walking through the garage in the basement of our building when these two ratbags on skateboards came zipping into the garage. One of them was quite adept in his handling of the board. The other was a complete clown.
The clown came off his board, him going one way and his board the other. No problems so far as the kid would probably bounce and get away with a few scratches. Ditto with the skateboard. It didn't quite work out that way.
The kid was fine, apart from suffering from a bad bout of potty-mouth. The problem was the skateboard. It shot off the side of the ramp the kid was supposed to be coming down, bounced off a supporting pillar, and crashed hard into the side of a very nice little sports car, leaving a rather nasty gouge in the side. The two ratbags took one look at the sports car, grabbed their skate boards, and decamped at speed.
Too late. I'd already seen then, recognised them, and knew what unit they lived in. On top of that there was a CCTV camera covering the ramp so the whole thing would be on tape.
The sports car was parked in the bay next to mine. That meant that the owner was currently residing in the unit next to mine. (Unless it was someone illegally parked in which case I couldn't give a damn if his car was totalled by a runaway steam-roller.)
The unit next to mine was a rental and was currently rented to a couple enjoying a holiday on the Gold Coast. I'd only seen them once. He was a good ten years older than her and seemed to be a rather dogmatic type. She was about twenty and had a charming face and figure, although she had kept to the background a bit while her husband commanded centre stage. It seemed to me that he was just the type of person to own a sports car.
Being a nice guy (in my own way) I decided to let him know who the culprits were who scratched his car up, but that could wait until I finished my errands. It wasn't as though the kids or the car had somewhere urgent to be. They could wait.
I returned from my various errands and headed up to my unit. Once there I poured myself a drink and strolled out onto the balcony to sit in the sun and enjoy said drink.
Now the doors and windows onto the balconies were all on slides, except in the main bedrooms. Through some whim of the architect the main windows in the main bedroom were on a swivel. You just rotated the window to the degree you wanted. It meant you didn't have any insect screens but at the height we were at we didn't have any insects, either, so it all worked out.
At some stage the unit next door to me had had sunscreen fitted to the windows. That meant that if the window was opened at just the right angle it was a perfect mirror and I could sit at my balcony and look right into the bedroom next door. Not that I bothered doing so. After all, the bedroom would be empty for most of the day and dark for most of the night. I had better things to do than to sit around hoping some woman would come in and get undressed. If it did happen it would probably be a three hundred pound fat mother of indeterminate age, the sight of whom would leave me scarred for life. Far easier and more rewarding to walk down to the beach and observe the topless bathing beauties.
I could hear loud voices coming from the next unit master bedroom and when I glanced in that direction I noticed the wibndow was open at just the right (or wrong) angle and I could see that Mr Dogmatic was yelling at his wife. He was casually dressed while she was even more so, clad only in a bikini, and one where the designer obviously felt the need to save on the cost of material. Not that I objected. She certainly did that bikini justice.
He was yelling and shaking his fists in the air, appealing to god for help, and when that wasn't forthcoming he yelled some more. It dawned on me that he was blaming her for the damage to his beautiful car. He hadn't done it so it must have been her and she had no right to drive it in the first place. Her denials were ignored on the principle of 'of course you would say that'. I was about to go around and explain the situation when things suddenly got interesting.
Mr Dogmatic was pointing at her bikini and yelling, "Off". Curious I continued to watch the little charade. She was biting her lip and looking mutinous but she did as she was told, dropping the bikini to the floor. Oh, but she was a honey. As far as I could see, and I could see everything, she didn't have a single flaw.
Now even while I was admiring her I was considering the fact that he probably intended to give her a punishment fuck. I decided to wait until he was about to start and then rush around to break the happy news that I knew who had damaged his car.
Instead of throwing her on the bed like a red-blooded man he sat on the bed and indicated she should bend over his knee. I could hear her protesting that if he bruised her people would see if she had a bikini on and it hadn't been her fault anyway. He hesitated for a moment. I figured him to be a person who wouldn't want others to think poorly of him, but he was still indignant about his car.
"So I'll go easy this time," he grumbled, making me wonder how many other times there'd been.
He grabbed her and jerked her across his knee. She was looking out the window and then she was looking in the window and her eyes met mine. I smiled and gave her a little wave. She blushed and her arms hurriedly crossed in front of her breasts, and then she frowned and let her arms drop, giving me a choice view. Very nicely shaped, even when dangling like that. She didn't say a word.
I must say that as a spanking it was a big disappointment. He only swatted her behind a few times and the look on her face was more one of irritation than pain. I guess he wanted to be careful not to bruise the goods, seeing that they would be on display the next time she ventured out in a bikini. (Especially that one.)
Spanking (if you could call that a spanking) over the wimp then pushed her off his lap and stormed off out of the room. She scrambled to her feet, giving me a glare, and making no effort to cover anything. She slowly picked up her bikini and slipped it back on before turning and walking out of the room, her bottom swishing from side to side as she went.
I decided that it was time for me to go and play good citizen. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should put a shirt on, but thought the hell with it - I wasn't at work and half the male population was currently down on the beach with nary a shirt between them. I strolled out of my unit just in time to see Mr Dogmatic getting into the lift. I let him go. I figured that I could break the happy news to his charming wife and she could tell him all about it when he returned.
I knocked on the unit door and a few moments later she answered, still wearing the bikini. (I would really like to meet the designer so I could congratulate him.)
"Mr Voyeur," she scorned by way of greeting.
"Hey, don't blame me," I protested. "I didn't open your window. I wasn't the one who failed to tell her husband that you had a witness. I think it's more of a case of Mrs Exhibitionist."
"It certainly is not," she snapped, sounding offended.
"Oh, you mean it wasn't you who stood there getting dressed very slowly?" I asked innocently, smiling when she blushed. I ran my eyes over her. "If you can call that getting dressed," I added.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Oh, right. Well I witnessed a little accident down in the garage. A couple of ratbags sent a skateboard smashing into the side of a little sports car. It's parked in your spot so I thought possible you owned it."
