Into the Garden Ch. 01-03bycarlieplum©
This slow-build romance is my first Literotica submission. While there is not much sex in this first installment, I've already written much more of the story that has plenty of erotic content. My partner says, "It's worth the wait."
"Damn, damn, damn," Belinda whispered to herself as she eased her car off the freeway and onto the exit that serviced the town she grew up in and where her parents still lived. "This is not how my summer was supposed to go."
First it was that idiot Remy Chardon. For two years, everything had been perfect with them. They'd met at a fraternity/sorority mixer at the beginning of sophomore year and had quickly started dating. Granted, he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was good-looking and he was a gentleman. They both had dates for every social event that required one and their regular sexual meetings kept Belinda with a head that was clear enough to focus on making the most of her college education, unlike some of "sisters" who had to worry about those things. Best of all, Remy knew how to keep his mouth shut. Pi Delta Phi had a reputation as the girls you brought home to your mother. The girls you married. Getting a bad reputation was a good way to get yourself kicked out of the house.
But then Remy had to go and ruin it all by proposing. Belinda had been working her backside off to get the best grades possible to land a good job out of college. She was fond of Remy, but she wasn't interested in marrying him, a boy whose highest aspirations were to move into a job at his daddy's company, get married and start making babies. As hard as it was, she had to turn him down, and face a senior year of dating—such a waste of time—or frustrated celibacy.
And as if that weren't bad enough, the grant money for her summer fellowship had fallen through at the last moment. Her faculty advisor felt so bad he got her tuition waved for three very interesting online summer classes, but it still meant that she'd be spending the summer at home. As she pulled into the circular driveway that fronted the large mansion Belinda grew up in, she realized she wasn't even out of the car and she couldn't wait for the summer to be over.
"Afternoon Miss Belinda," she was greeted by Mr. Sims, her parent's longtime gardener and all-around-handyman. She gave him a big smile. Mr. Sims had joined her family when Belinda was 15, and seeing him made the summer at home seem a little less horrible. He had taught her everything she knew about plants and gardening—which she suspected was about 10 percent of what he knew. Plus, he was the king of the knock-knock joke. They were corny, but his delivery was so deadpan that he could make her laugh until her stomach muscles ached.
"How is Mrs. Sims?" Belinda asked.
"She's fine. In the kitchen making your favorite dinner, I suppose. She's glad to have you home." Mrs. Sims also worked for the Sutter family, and the couple lived in a small cottage on the property. Belinda thought about Mrs. Sims' delicious steak, twice-baked potatoes and sautéed green beans. Well, maybe summer wouldn't be a total loss, although she would have to step up her workouts to keep the weight off. Belinda was petite, with small rounded breasts that stood up high even when she wasn't wearing a bra and a hard, ass that was round and filled out her skirt. Her face got a lot of second looks, but she had the kind of ass that made a man look three times.
"I'll take your bags up to your room," Sims said, breaking into Belinda's reverie. "You go have a look around." He knew she'd want to see the gardens. Belinda walked along the driveway, then cut across the grass until she came to the top of the flagstone path that led to the kitchen garden, surrounded by a low brick wall.
She had worked there for hours, kneeling beside Mr. Sims putting in seeds and cuttings until her mother had been moved to say, "Really, Belinda, it's not proper." Luckily, her father had intervened and she had been allowed to keep on working in the garden, as long as she didn't do it when guests were in the house. Mr. Sutter was more liberal than his wife Susannah, but he did believe in keeping up appearances.
Leaving the kitchen garden, Belinda saw a new sight, a temporary shed. Piled next to it were a wheelbarrow, shovels, picks and hoes. Peeking inside, she saw even more tools. She'd have to ask Mr. Sims or her father about that. The two of them always had some new improvement underway. She didn't see any changes in the formal gardens, but as she came out the south entrance and looked down the hill, a distinctly new sight awaited her.
Down across the expanse of greens her father John and brother Chip used for golf practice, she saw a man working. What had been another large area of beautifully manicured grass was now a mess of dirt and holes, with what looked like most of the garden center of Home Depot stacked neatly around. And hard at work in all the midst of it was a man Belinda didn't recognize as anyone her father had hired before to help Mr. Sims complete one of his grand schemes.
Belinda watched the young man work as she walked toward him. When he had stood up, she estimated his height at just over six feet. He had closely cut brown hair. Wearing only a white t-shirt and cargo shorts along with his work boots, she could see he was muscled, with strong biceps and triceps and well-defined calves. What struck her the most was his skin. Living in the South, Belinda was used to seeing people of every shade and hue, from the palest pale, to the darkest dark. But this young man's skin was unique, almost the color of her favorite milk Belgian chocolates, but slightly lighter and with a beautiful glow. Covered in sweat and dirt, he was still so perfect as to have stepped out of a painting. Looking at him, Belinda instantly felt a zing she had never gotten from Remy.
Sam kept his head down and kept working, but then already he knew what Belinda Sutter looked like. Hired for the summer, he lived in a room in what had, Francine Sims had told him, once been the servant's wing that housed a nanny, a cook and a housekeeper when the children were younger. With Belinda and her older brother Chip now out of the house, Francine took care of the cooking and housekeeping and lived with her husband. Taking his meals with Hank and Francine Sims in the big kitchen or at their caretaker's house, Sam had heard all about Belinda. He had seen pictures of her, including a recent photo. It showed a beautiful young woman. Petite, maybe 5'4" he guessed, with pale skin, green eyes, and wavy honey brown hair that hung just above her shoulders. She was dressed in an elegant 1940s style silk gown for a sorority formal. With wide shoulder straps, a v-neck and shape that hugged her waist and then fell softly to the floor, the periwinkle fabric draped what was obviously Belinda's beautiful shape. Sam found himself stealing looks at the beautiful girl in the picture every time he passed through the kitchen. He was sure she wouldn't give him the time of day, but the combination of the picture and the way Hank and Francine talked about her—like she hung the moon—Sam couldn't help wondering what she was like in person. He had even had some fantasies about him that resulted in him masturbating in bed or the shower to thoughts of the pretty girl in the evening gown. When she heard she would be moving home for three months, his heart had skipped a beat before he told himself, "Get a grip, Sam. You're the hired help and she's the mistress of the manor. Don't go getting crazy thoughts in your head."
"Hi, I'm Belinda Sutter," she said. "How do you do?"
"Hello Miss Sutter," Sam answered. "I'm Sam Greene."
"And what crazy project has my father got you working on?" she asked" Ripping up this perfectly good lawn and making a mud pit?" Her voice sounded stern but Sam caught a twinkle in her eye.
"I'm working with Mr. Sims and Mr. Sutter to build a water garden," Sam explained, making sure not to refer to Hank by his first name. Hank had explained that Belinda didn't like her family's habit—common for these parts—of referring to workers by their first names while expecting to be called Mr. and Mrs. themselves. "We just started last week, so it does look like a mess, but I've seen the plans and it'll be beautiful when we're done."
Belinda laughed. "Well, Daddy's not happy unless something around this place is being ripped down or built up. How long will the project take?"
"The whole summer," Sam answered, feeling more at ease than he had expected.
"Well," she answered, "I'm sure I'll be down to pester you with a million questions...Mr. Sim's probably warned you about that. But I haven't even said hello to my family or unpacked my bags. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Greene," she concluded. "Have a good afternoon."
"Nice to meet you as well, Miss Sutter," he replied. "You do the same." As he returned to work, Sam couldn't help but steal a few glances a Belinda's retreating form. She wasn't model-gorgeous, he thought. Her smile was a little lopsided and she had freckles across her nose. She certainly wasn't built like a pin-up girl, with her pert, smallish breasts, but her ass was amazing...tight and with plenty of padding in all the right places. She was, he thought, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
As Belinda returned to the house, she thought of Sam Green. She hadn't realized it when they were talking, but now she realized the color of his green eyes matched her own. And those muscles, she thought--he certainly didn't get those from playing golf like all of her father and brother's country club buddies. She wondered if they felt as hard as they looked. Lost in thought as she emerged back out of the formal gardens and onto the patio that ran the length of the house, she was jolted by a shriek. "Belinda!!! You're here!!!" Dear Lord, it was Hailey, Chip's girlfriend. That girl actually spoke in multiple exclamation marks. Give me strength, Belinda thought. "Chip!!! Belinda's here!!!" A salesman for their father John's building-supply company Chips "muscles" came from playing golf. The heaviest thing he ever lifted was a pen to sign his bar tab. She pretended to be happy to see them both.
"The whole summer together when we were only expecting to see you for a weekend!!!" Hailey exclaimed. Belinda wished for earplugs, but smiled and gave them a hug, then stepped through the French doors into the family room. Her mother Susannah was, unsurprisingly, already quite tight, while her father John had just started on his first after-work cocktail. Belinda knew her mother's schedule meant she started drinking around 2:30, after a hard day of shopping, manicures and lunching with her friends. Belinda was genuinely pleased to see her father, and, thankfully, before the conversation had grown too tiresome, Mrs. Sims announced that dinner was served.
After a delicious dinner, Belinda found herself in one of her favorite places, side by side at the big kitchen sink with Mrs. Sims, her arms deep in a tub of warm soapy water. Mrs. Sims, as she always did, insisted that she didn't need any help, "and besides, your mother will be scandalized," but Belinda convinced her to let her stay.
"Oh, Mrs. Sims. I've spent the school year with my nose in a book and my backside in a library chair. You can't lift a finger for yourself in that snooty sorority house. Just let me help you." The two worked side by side, catching up on the news, including her breakup with Remy. At one point, a much cleaner Sam entered the kitchen and Mrs. Sims fussed around serving him dinner. Belinda noticed he was reading as he ate. Kafka. That was a bit of a surprise for a landscaper, although she quickly chided herself for jumping to conclusions and asked him if he was finding the book interesting.
"It's my second time through," Sam told her. "I don't get much time to read fiction, but I'm starting to understand how Kafka makes the reader feel what he wants you to feel. He's got amazing technique." Belinda wanted to find out more about the Kafka-reading landscaper who, she couldn't help but notice, smelled the way she thought a man should smell, now that he wasn't covered in mud. Clean and manly, but without any cologne covering his natural scent. There was that zing again, an electricity running across her body when Sam looked at her. Belinda blushed slightly and looked away.
The next morning Hailey bounced in, her bleached blonde hair in a ponytail and wearing, Belinda thought, far too much makeup and far too little clothing. They were going shopping because Hailey had Tuesdays off from work. Hailey's constant patter made Belinda wish that she drank like her mother, just to take the edge off Hailey's exclamation marks. Belinda didn't need anything to wear, but she tried things on to be friendly. Finally, Hailey found and outfit that she "loved, loved, loved!!!" Belinda offered to buy Hailey's outfit as a present, if Hailey wouldn't mind. They'd played this game more times that Belinda could count since Chip had started dating the girl. While Belinda's charge card was paid off each month by her father, Hailey's family was lower-middle class and her salary as a secretary at a vet's office didn't allow for shopping at exclusive boutiques. Hailey was annoying, but she was good-hearted and kind to her brother, even though he didn't deserve it, so it made Belinda happy to treat her to something special.
Back at home, Hailey wanted to put on her new outfit and freshen up. Belinda sat reading on her bed as Hailey went into her bathroom. After changing and putting on fresh powder and lipstick, Hailey poked around in Belinda's makeup bag. There in the bottom, she found four months of birth control pills. Hailey hesitated before grabbing the four packs and sliding them into her own bag. After all, she reasoned, Belinda could easily replace them, while her own finances didn't allow for that option. And she was sick of using condoms.
By dinnertime, Belinda had her summer planned out. She had her three classes to complete, but she always took on one house project when she came home for any length of time. The itch to improve things came straight from her dad, she knew, and had started when she was still in high school. She had redone quite a lot of house, with her parents blessing. he decided she would do a light upgrade of the eat-in kitchen.
She spent some time looking over the sketches and specs for the water garden, but stayed up at the top of the hill. She had a ton of questions, but she knew Mr. Sims was working in the front of the house and for some reason, she felt shy about going down the hill to talk to Sam Greene on her own.
That night, after she washed her face and slipped into her favorite silk nightgown, she remembered she needed to take her pill. No prospects, she thought, with Remy out of the picture, but still. They were nowhere to be found. She searched her makeup bag, suitcases, and drawers. Damn, damn, damn, she thought. There was no way she could go to her family doctor in town for the pill; she had gotten them at the student health center so they wouldn't show up on her father's health insurance. As she lay in bed that night, she consoled herself with the thought that she wouldn't need them this summer anyway.
In his bed, Sam was thinking about Belinda. He hoped she would visit him on the work site, but she never appeared. He had heard her talking to Francine about her breakup last night, and today he caught a glimpse of her, her pale skin set off against a royal blue halter-top dress as she passed through the kitchen while he ate lunch on the patio. Later, he heard her joking with Mr. Sims in the formal gardens, her laughter playing like music down the hill. This was ridiculous, he thought. He had spoken less than 10 sentences with this girl. And here he was spending his whole day thinking about her, and now, apparently, the night too. He thought again of her exposed back and neck in her dress, imagining his hands caressing that soft skin and cupping her ass cheeks in his hands. He reminded himself that as far as she was concerned he was just the help, while she was a pretty, rich, white girl who could have her pick of most any guy in town, but his cock hardened as he remembered the twinkle in her eyes and the freckles on her perfect nose when she spoke to him. He wrapped his hand around himself and stroked, imagining it was her pale soft hand instead of his own. It didn't take long for the thought to bring him to climax, his semen shooting across his rock-hard chest. He fell asleep with a picture of her in his mind.