Chapter 5

Ian was not at all happy. For the past year ever since Simone had taken that job with Rhino his life seemed to have been going steadily downhill and now she had informed him, no, told him, that they were going out for the evening to a dinner party at the Baldwin’s. For crying out loud, Friday night was Football night and if there was something he looked forward to each week it was to sit in front of the TV with a beer and enjoy the time-outs and intervals when the Cheerleaders came out to encourage the spectators with their antics. He was ambivalent about the football but the sight of those young girls, well, that was something else.

He stepped out of the shower and stood to one side as Simone took his place. As he toweled himself he took furtive glances of the shower cascading over her and mused that it had been some time since he enjoyed her body. She just never seemed to be in the mood these days and any advances that he had attempted were usually rebuffed with some excuse or other. Not that her seeming lack of libido affected her ability to dress as a temptress, he thought, for he was always curious as to why she took so much trouble to attire herself the way she did in such provocative outfits. He stored the image of her nakedness in the shower to be used in a fantasy later when he would relieve himself with yet another leisurely wank.

His musings were interrupted when she said, “You really ought to do something about all that body hair. It really is such a turn-off and, anyway, it’s unhealthy. I think you ought to shave it off; it would make you look so much nicer.”

“Where the hell did that come from?” he thought as he looked at her damp back as she sat down at the vanity. Their eyes met in the mirror and once again he recognized in her expression that what she said wasn’t so much of a suggestion; it was an order.

The dress code for the evening was ‘smart casual’ whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, thought Ian. To him Janice Baldwin was such a snob and it was typical of her to be laying down rules. Once again he mentally sympathized with Herbert, her poor husband, who must live a life of purgatory having to comply with the way she treated him; always at her beck and call, more a servant than a husband.

“You’ll do,” said Simone as she inspected him and the outfit he had pulled on. He was wearing tan Chinos and a light blue dress shirt; she, needless to say, was quite another matter with her wrap-around dark blue chiffon dress with the silky long puffy sleeves, high heeled pumps on her nylon clad legs. She clipped a black velvet choker around her neck, looked at herself in the mirror, primped her hair and satisfied with her appearance said, “Right, come on, let’s go or we’ll be late.”

They went down the stairs with Simone continuing the one-sided conversation or, as Ian regarded it, an on-going list of instructions. “Make sure you take your phone; be nice to Janice; try and make an effort with Herb, he really is a good man, and, make sure you are polite to Mr. Haasbroek. He really is quite important to us, don’t you know?”

Ian gave a sigh and rolled his eyes. He picked up his phone from the hall table and gave a wave to Chloe who was lolling on the sofa watching TV.

Simone called as they went out of the door, “Chloe, we’re off. Be good,”

“Bye Mum, have fun,” she called back and with a smile turned her attention back to Megan who had come over to keep her company and to have a sleep-over.

It was only a short drive to the Baldwin’s home, a single storey sprawling 4 bedroom house set in a wooded part of town. It had been a new build and was very modern with every facility and convenience to aid living the ‘good-life’. They had a large backyard pool which was completely private given the trees and shrubs all around that gave total seclusion from prying eyes. The furnishing inside the house was second to none and no expense had been spared to the extent that Ian always felt a sense of inadequacy whenever they had previously visited. Tonight was to be no different he surmised.

They parked up in front of the 3-car garage and even before they had got out of the car Janice was standing at the open front door waiting to greet them. She was similarly dressed to Simone with a short cocktail dress that showed off her feminine assets to great advantage thought Ian as he glanced down at her cleavage.

“Hi, great to see you both; come on in,” she said. “The others should be here shortly but we can get started with a drink. Come on in.”

They entered the entrance hall and Janice took Simone’s wrap and draped it over the back of a chair before leading them into the open-plan living room. Through an archway Ian saw that in the dining area the table had been set in fine style with porcelain plates and dishes, crystal wine glasses and what appeared to be gilt cutlery. In the center of the table was a beautiful floral arrangement. From the integrated but unseen sound system the muted strains of a Bach violin concerto could be heard.

Simone gave a gasp of admiration, “Oh Janice that looks wonderful. You made it look so nice.”

“I got Herb to do it all,” she whispered as she gave a gracious tilt of her head. She took Simone’s arm and led her to the sofa. Then she called out, “Herb, our guests are here, we need drinks.”

Ian grudgingly admitted to himself that the table did indeed look grand but before he could add his praise he looked beyond and saw Herbert in the kitchen who didn’t look quite as grand with a frilly apron tied around his portly waist. He gave a wave, “Hi Herb, how you doing?”

Herb, bald head glistening with perspiration, came scuttling out wiping his hands on a towel, “Hi Ian, nice to see you again. It’s been a long time,” he said as he shook with a limp handshake. “What can I get you?”

Before he could answer Janice interjected, “We’ll have a couple of Martinis in here.”

Herb turned on his heel and with Ian in tow went back to the kitchen to prepare the drink order. “What about you Ian, a beer?”

“Beer will do fine,” he said as he watched Herb wrestle with bottles, glasses and the ice bucket. In quick time the Martinis were prepared and in even quicker time Herb scampered to the sitting room to serve the girls seated on the sofa. Ian shook his head at the display of servitude.

The doorbell rang. “Herb, get that will you?” said Janice curtly. No surprises when Herb opened the door to see the expected trio of Black faces, Oskar, Jacob and Janice’s boss, Zaire. They were all dressed in the same ‘uniform’ of Dark Chinos and white Dress shirts; they looked very formidable.

“Welcome, please come in, good to see you,” said Herb as he stepped aside to let them in. They each gave him a cursory nod of the head as he held the door open and they passed him by to walk straight to Janice who had stood up to greet them in an altogether more passionate manner. One after the other they wrapped their arms around her and gave her a lingering kiss that said more than hello, thought Ian. They then repeated the greeting with Simone who seemingly enjoyed the welcome gesture just as much as Janice. They then sat themselves down on the plush leather armchairs with Jacob taking centre stage sitting between Janice and Simone on the sofa. He settled in his seat and put his arms across the back of the sofa and with no hesitation they both moved closer to him.

Herb stood mutely awaiting orders, so Ian thought, and they were not long coming. “Drinks Herb, come on, get a move on; can’t keep our guests waiting.”

Ian found a hard-backed chair and sat himself down to one side of the room behind the sofa whilst Herb did as he was bidden and got drinks for the large black men who now seemed to have occupied and dominated the sitting room. The girls seemed to be in thrall of their companions and as the conversation began to gather pace Ian felt himself becoming more and more isolated as his presence was hardly acknowledged by any of them. The fact that he was missing his usual Friday night pleasures and Cheerleader fantasies made it even more galling. However, as a jazz fan, he did notice that the Bach concerto had been substituted by the more strident tones of Hugh Masakela, the South African Trumpeter. How had that happened; nobody seemed to have made a move to make the selection.

Herb came and sat alongside him on an equally uncomfortable chair and attempted to make conversation but Ian rapidly concluded they didn’t have much in common (certainly Herb was found to be lacking as far as the topic of Jazz was concerned) and their talk lapsed into silence as they strained to catch what was being said in the ‘expensive seats’. He gazed at the back of their heads and wasn’t completely certain but from his viewpoint it seemed as if Simone and Janice as they leaned across Jacob were both, for reasons not understood, paying attention to his groin; surely not, he thought.

Oskar and Zaire had no such confusion as they took in the sight of Jacob having his cock being rubbed through his trousers by the ladies sitting either side of him. As they tapped their feet to the pulsing beat of the music (which they had changed by tapping a few commands on their phones) they were both chuckling at the effrontery of the girl’s behavior. They knew it wasn’t only a consequence of what Jacob had whispered to them when they had sat down but more being triggered by signals being emitted by their phones which was having the desired effect.

Janice tore herself away from massaging Jacob’s cock and turned her head. “Herb, I think we are ready to eat.”

Herb, with no hesitation stood up and waited for their guests to follow his example so that with Jacob leading he could show the way to the table. Simone and Janice had extra assistance when Oskar and Zaire took it upon themselves to hold their arms. As they passed by Herb and Ian Janice gave her husband a slight smile which spoke volumes.

There were six places laid at the table. Simone queried the number to which Janice replied, “Oh Herb is going to be far too busy looking after us all so he said he wouldn’t be sitting with us but rather would just have a bite in between servings.”

Ian raised an eyebrow thinking that this was a prime example of how she treated her husband in such an offhand matter and how it wouldn’t be allowed in his house. His confidence took a jolt when Simone said, “Oh, he doesn’t have to do it all on his own; Ian will help out, won’t you Honey?”

And so it proved. For the next couple of hours Ian found himself walking back and forth to the kitchen to collect dishes, clearing plates, serving wines and generally acting as a waiter to the three black guests-of-honour and ‘their’ ladies whilst Herb remained mostly in the kitchen. From time-to-time he was able to take his place at the table but usually he was only able to have a hastily grabbed forkful of food before Janice was issuing another command for something to be provided. Certainly he had no chance of joining in any meaningful conversation such was the frequency of him having to take yet another trip. Whilst he was vaguely conscious of the ridiculousness of his situation, strangely he felt no resentment of being treated so, indeed, he almost felt a sense of it being his duty to help out and to be deferential to the company. What he wasn’t aware of is that the phone in his pocket was dictating that’s exactly what he was there for.

The delicious meal came to an end with Ian being ‘requested’ to serve them all a fine cognac from a cut-glass decanter into equally expensive crystal Brandy Goblets. Simone nodded as Janice dismissed him with a ‘suggestion’ that he might like to join Herb with cleaning up in the kitchen. “We’ll take our drinks out to the patio and enjoy the warm evening out by the swimming pool.”

He made no protest as they wandered out through the patio doors and he turned and set to the task of clearing the table. He carried the detritus to the kitchen where Herb was busying himself at the sink looking slightly ridiculous still wearing his frilly apron and rubber gloves.

Ian made no comment for he had now fully accepted his role. He picked up a drying cloth and as Herb washed dishes he in turn dried and stacked the clean crockery and cutlery. As they stood side by side he felt a sense of empathy overcome him as if Herb was suddenly his best friend to be confided in. He certainly felt sympathetic toward him and vowed that he would no longer be so antagonistic. He decided to indulge in small talk.

“Herb, I’ve often wondered about your baldness. Do you mind me asking; is it hereditary or maybe a touch of alopecia?” he said delicately.

“Bless you, no,” Herb replied in the soft almost lisping voice of his. “I shave my head daily. Janice likes me without hair.” He dropped his voice even lower, “Actually it’s not only my head; she’s made me shave everywhere. She says she thinks that body hair is a bit gross so I have taken it all off.”

He slipped the plate he was washing back into the foamy water and with his rubber gloves he pulled at the buttons and opened his shirt to expose a perfectly smooth chest. “I know what you must be thinking and, yes, I’m perfectly smooth down there as well. Let’s get finished here and maybe I’ll show you.”

Ian was slightly taken aback but was also a little intrigued at the thought of being invited to look at another man’s private area. He just nodded his head as he realized that the topic of his own body hair must have been discussed between Simone and Janice. “Where else would his wife have got the idea?” he thought as for the next 15 minutes he concentrated on reducing the pile of draining dishes.

Job done and Herb finally took off his apron. “OK, all’s good. I don’t think ‘she-who-must-be-obeyed’ will find anything to criticize here,” he said as an attempt of making a joke. “Let’s go through and join them outside.” Ian was not sure if it was a joke that was being made but after hanging his towel he followed Herb through the house to the open patio doors. The sight that greeted him made his jaw drop. Seated and laying on the poolside loungers were Jacob, Oskar and Zaire, all naked with Simone and Janice both reduced to their underwear sitting alongside.

Jacob looked up to see them standing at the open door and smiled. He reached over to his discarded trousers lying on the bed and seconds later Ian felt the phone in his pocket give a distinct throb and, suddenly, the scene before him didn’t appear quite as unusual as he first thought. Indeed, it seemed perfectly reasonable that his wife should be sharing a sun lounger with a black man who was laying there with an impressive erection. Janice was likewise keeping company with one of the others – Ian couldn’t quite make out exactly who, given his vision had suddenly become slightly clouded – but it really didn’t matter. What was important was that their ladies were fulfilling their duty of being perfect companions to these superior black men.

Ian turned to look at Herb who was quietly standing alongside. They exchanged glances which didn’t convey anything other than a quiet acceptance of they weren’t required to participate or join the company lolling by the poolside.

“Oh, there you are at last,” said Janice looking over at the pair of them waving her empty glass. “About time too; we need top ups.”