Into the Garden Ch. 22-24

Author's Note: Belinda Sutter, pampered daughter of wealthy Southerners, fell in love with Sam Greene, a young biracial man, while he was working at her family's home the summer before her senior year of college and his final year before completing his M.B.A. The couple are now married and expecting their first child. Sam's biracial parents are warm and accepting, and while Sam has won Belinda's father's respect, the rest of her family remains horrified at her interracial relationship.

As an FYI, Sam doesn't have a monster cock and Belinda doesn't turn into a complete moron the first time she has sex with a black guy. If that's your thing, enjoy, but this isn't the story for you. As always, I love comments and feedback.

CHAPTER 22

Belinda had encouraged Sam to go home for Christmas, planning to join him in Chicago before New Year's. She just couldn't face a family holiday when she wasn't welcome in her own home. Her dad had sent her a $5,000 gift certificate to Babies R Us, trying in his own way to make up for the situation, but it didn't stop the hurt of being banned from her own home because she had married a black man. Sam said he'd rather spend the holiday with her, and besides, they had their 20-week ultrasound on the 23rd, and flying on Christmas Eve would be a nightmare. They'd spend a week around New Year's with his family.

Belinda clutched his hand tightly as they walked into the ultrasound lab. Dr. Davidson had assured them at their last prenatal visit that the blood work looked perfect, her belly was measuring exactly as it should and the baby's heartbeat sounded fantastic, but part of her was still nervous. She just wanted the baby to be healthy. After a few minutes in the waiting room, a medical tech called her name and led her to an exam room, telling her to undress except for her underpants and get up on the table, giving her a paper robe to cover herself with. Belinda left the robe open in the front as instructed and sat on the exam table.

"That's pretty hot lingerie," Sam teased, pointing to the paper robe. "Think we can get an extra one to take home?"

"Very funny," Belinda answered. "Now are we agreed we aren't finding out the gender?"

"Agreed," Sam said as the door opened. Sam caught the look on the ultrasound tech's face as she greeted him, hoping Belinda wouldn't notice the look of scorn that flashed across her face.

"Before you start, we don't want to know if it's a boy or a girl," Belinda said. The tech didn't even acknowledge her, just pushed Belinda's paper robe aside roughly and squeezed a thick clear gel on her belly. She began rubbing the ultrasound wand across Belinda's belly. She stopped suddenly, and asked rudely, "Why do you still have your underpants on? They're in my way."

"The assistant told me to leave them on," Belinda explained, "but I can take them right away."

"I'm sure you can," the tech said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe if you had kept them on before you wouldn't be in this mess."

In an instant, Sam was between Belinda and the tech. "Get out," he hissed, his voice low and angry.

"Sir, I'm trying to do my job. If you don't move, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she sputtered.

"Get away from my wife. Get out of this room. And go get your boss. I'll be calling my lawyer while you're gone."

The tech stood her ground for a moment, then backed down, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her. Sam quickly called his mother, a successful doctor in Chicago for advice, quickly explaining what had happened as he rubbed Belinda's arm. He could tell she was on the verge of tears. Belinda had never heard Colleen utter anything but a friendly word, but even with the phone to Sam's ear she could hear her mother in law's stream of curse words, interspersed with terms like "professionalism," "unacceptable" and "fired." Sam had told her his mother's Irish temper flared up from time to time, but this was the first she had ever heard of it, and she was glad she wasn't on the receiving end.

A doctor entered, while they were talking, the tech trailing behind him. Still on the phone, Sam bluffed: "Of course, the usual retainer rate. I'll call you about filing the paperwork if we can't come to an acceptable solution." He clicked the phone shut.

The doctor shook Sam's hand. "It seems there's been some misunderstanding, Mr. and Mrs. Green. Marcie," he said, waving his hand toward the tech, "would like to apologize if she said anything that could have been misconstrued as unkind."

"There was no misunderstanding," Sam told the doctor, "How else could you understand her statement?" he asked, repeating Marcie's words back to the doctor verbatim. The doctor cringed slightly.

"What can we do to make this visit go more smoothly?" the doctor asked, skirting the issue.

"For starters, you can get her," Sam pointed at Marcie, "out of here. We're not interested in hearing some sorry apology she wouldn't even mean." The doctor nodded and the tech left the room, closing the door quietly this time.

"Mr. and Mrs. Greene, I do sincerely apologize," the doctor said as the door clicked shut. "Marcie's behavior was regrettable and it will be dealt with. Our best ultrasound tech is working today, and she's just finishing up with another mother right now. I'll send her in as soon as she's free. Now, here's my card. If you have any further problems, you or your lawyer," he cringed again as he said the last word, "can be in touch with me directly. I'll have one of the medical technicians bring you a snack while you are waiting."

"Thank you," Belinda finally spoke up. "We appreciate your assistance. We really don't mean to be a bother."

"No bother at all, Mrs. Greene," he answered as he left the room.

"Jesus, Belinda, why do you have to be so nice all the time?" Sam snapped at her, annoyance in his voice.

"Honey catches more flies than vinegar," Belinda answered. "You made your point loud and clear. But in the end, the nicer you are, the meaner it makes the other person look. And don't take out your anger on me."

"I see your point," he answered. "But . . ."

"It's over. You handled it beautifully. The lawyer bluff was priceless. Now, we're about to see our baby. Please can't we just enjoy it without letting some ignoramus ruin it."

The rest of the visit went smoothly, and Sam and Belinda left the hospital holding picture after picture of their baby, which the second ultrasound tech had assured them looked 100 percent healthy. Back at the apartment, the pictures were quickly scanned and emailed to the Greene family, to John Sutter and to a handful of friends. Sam and Belinda settled into the couch to continue their ongoing arguments about baby names and whether Christmas presents were supposed to be opened Christmas Eve or Christmas morning.

The name discussion was still not settled, but they compromised by Belinda opening her gift Christmas Eve, while Sam would open his on Christmas morning. On Christmas Eve, the two went to a late service and came home to dinner of a big dish of Sam's Nana's mac and cheese. No cravings for pickles and ice cream had come up, but Nana's mac and cheese was something else entirely. After dinner, Sam brought Belinda her present from next to their little tree to where she sat, her feet curled up under her on the sofa. Sam hoped she liked it. He had done a little detective work to find just the right thing, checking her Web history to see which sites she was shopping on. On one of her favorites sites, he found the perfect gift.

Belinda unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful nightgown. "It reminded me of Pi Phi pajamas," he explained. "If it hadn't been for the little nightgown you were wearing that night in your parents' kitchen, we might not be together now. And look," he said, leaning over and showing her the small snaps on each side, "the top opens up for when you are nursing the baby."

"Oh, honey, I love it," Belinda gushed. "I'm going to put it on now. Wait here and I'll come out and model it."

Belinda emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, her eyes shining. She had put her hair up in a bun, which she knew Sam loved. The soft cream-colored nightgown cupped her breasts, with a line of wine-colored lace running just under her bust and the fabric falling just to her knees.

"Lindy, you take my breath away."

"Why don't you come in the bedroom and return the favor?" she replied seductively.

Sam didn't need an engraved invitation. He met her in the bedroom door, his tongue exploring her mouth as he walked her backward toward their bed. Belinda's arms wrapped around him and he felt her breasts press against him, her nipples rock hard beneath the new nightgown. He pulled off his shirt, wanting to feel her pressed against him, then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her between his legs. Sam buried his face between her luscious breasts as he kissed her soft skin.

"Let me see how these snaps work," he said, his voice husky with lust. He lifted them up and pulled the material down. Belinda's full breasts were open and exposed to him, each one framed like a picture by the fabric of the nightgown. He moaned, lifting his hands to cup each one, then rolling the nipples between his fingers before moving his lips to her chest and tasting the soft sweetness of her skin. Belinda's eyes were closed as he licked over the nipple, covering it entirely with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. He cupped her ass in his hands. With the combination of the pregnancy and her craving for homemade mac and cheese, her ass was filling out. "Damn, Belinda, just when I thought I couldn't love your ass any more, I love your ass more. You might want to start wearing your engagement ring all the time. I want the brothers to see you are taken before they get too close." He kept his hands on her ass, returning his mouth to her full, round breasts. He sucked on a nipple again, squeezing it lightly between his teeth.

"Harder. You can do it harder," he heard Belinda moan. He obliged her, scraping his teeth across her tender flesh and moving his hand to her other breast to squeeze it tightly, twisting and pulling on the areola. Reluctantly, he let go of her ass and moved his hands underneath the nightgown and between her legs, finding her bare and open to him. He moved the side of his thumb across her clit before sliding a finger deep inside her, the pressure forcing a long moan from his beautiful bride. She was so wet. He slid a second finger in and began moving in and out of her rhythmically, fucking her swollen, wet pussy with his hand. Belinda mewed with frustration as he moved his hand away, opening her eyes to see where the hand that was giving her so much pleasure had gone. Sam was looking up at her as he moved his fingers, slick and shiny with her juices to her breasts, rubbing them across her nipples before he licked the taste off of her, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he did. Belinda felt more wetness flood her crotch as she watched the erotic sight. She wanted him, wanted his hard, brown cock deep inside her, but Sam was determined to make the encounter last. He stood up, removing Belinda's nightgown and then his own t-shirt and pajama pants.

"Get up on the bed, Lindy. I want you on your hands and knees," he commanded. Belinda did as he asked, resting her head on the pillow with her ass high in the air. Sam thought he might come from the sight alone. He lay down on his back and, grasping Belinda's hips, pulled her toward him so she was astride his face. He look a long look as her cunt, loving how the inner and outer lips were both swollen, matching the swelling of Belinda's clit, which peeked out from below its hood. Leaving her wanting, he kissed her thighs, nipping them lightly with his teeth. He reached up and pinched her nipples again, using one hand to pull and twist them, his other hand holding her up to keep Belinda from grinding her crotch onto his face. Her frustrated mewing told him that's exactly what she wanted to do. He put his face close enough to her crotch that he knew she could feel his breath against her sex. "Tell me what you want, Belinda." He knew it was hard for her ask for what she wanted, but he needed to hear her say it. "Tell me want you want," he repeated as he pinched down hard on a nipple.

"I want it all. I want you to lick me and fuck me. I need you. Please, Sam, please," she pleaded. He released his grip on her hips, pulling her down to his face as he speared her tongue up into her opening and began fucking her with his mouth, his face almost instantly soaked with her moisture. He snaked his tongue up to her clit and began flicking it and sucking it, filling her again with his two fingers. Now that she had given words to her desire, her inhibitions dropped and she encouraged him. "Yeah, baby," she moaned. "Fuck me like that, fuck me like that while you lick me. Oh, fuck, it's so good. It's so good." Sam continued his feast as he moved his fingers in and out of her, determined to keep her on the edge without letting her climax just yet. He moved his tongue away from her clit, biting the soft, white skin of her inner tight. When he returned to her clit, he pulled his fingers away, leaving her empty and wanting, but not for long.

Sam put his hands back on Belinda's hips, guiding her off of his face until she was positioned just above his dark cock. He felt a vein throbbing along the length of it as he pulled her down to him, her wet channel sliding easily onto him. Then he held still. Belinda's chest was heaving, breathing hard as she waited for him to begin fucking her. And waited. She looked at him, knowing what he wanted, that wanted her to fuck him, not the other way around. She rocked on his cock, taking a minute to find her rhythm, before settling into a groove with a hard downstroke that ground her clit into Sam's muscled abs. Her mouth was open, eyes closed as she pounded herself against her husband's hard, brown cock, moaning wordlessly. Sam felt her wetness pooling at the base of his cock as she rode him, and he moistened his fingers again, rubbing them across the base of his cock, then reaching behind her. With one hand he grasped a soft ass cheek as he worked two of the fingers of his other hand into her tight hole.

"Oh, fuck, yeah," Belinda exploded. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," she said over and over, each "fuck" coming out as its own sentence as each individual downstroke simultaneously drove her clit against his body, his cock into her and his fingers inter her ass. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The pitch of her voice was going higher as she got closer to her goal. Sam felt as if his body had all but disappeared, the nerves in his cock and the two fingers wedged firmly in his beautiful wife's tight, wet ass overriding all other signals to his brain. His balls were tightening as they prepared to unload themselves deep into Belinda's wet core. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming, fuck," Belinda screamed, and he felt her cunt grab him and hold him tight as the muscles in her ass did the same to his fingers. The orgasm that had been building moved up like a volcano, his seed like hot lava coming from his balls. He could feel it flow up his shaft before exploding out of him.

Belinda rested on top of him for a few minutes as she regained her breath. Sam inhaled the scent of their lovemaking, almost high on the funky goodness of their unique perfume. He felt the slickness of their sweat and juices all over their bodies. Belinda rolled off of him, cuddling up to his side with her leg across his. "Merry Christmas," she whispered in his ear.

CHAPTER 23

Christmas day brought its own surprises. Sam loved his gift, a black leather messenger bag. "Your dad told me he sees guys in the financial district carrying them instead of a briefcase," she explained. "And look inside, there's another present!"

"Belinda," Sam chided her, "we agreed one present each."

"Well, I didn't spend anything on it. And besides, it's really for both of us."

Sam fished around in the bag and found a green envelope. Inside was a homemade gift certificate: Good for one blowjob.

Belinda blushed as he read it out loud, but explained, "I know you love that, and we really haven't done it so much with the morning sickness. But that's past, so I thought it would be a nice gift."

Sam leaned over and kissed her, his hand cupping a breast. "I love it. And it's the perfect size." Before he could redeem his certificate, Belinda's cell phone rang.

"Hi Belinda, it's Dad. Your momma is going to call you in a bit. I know she hasn't been so understanding, but please give her a chance. I'll call you later to explain. Love you, bye." He hung up before she could get a word out.

When Belinda repeated what her father had said, Sam felt his erection wilt like salad on a stovetop. "What could she possibly say, Belinda that would make how she's acted okay? You don't get to treat your own daughter like dirt and then act like nothing happened."

"Dad said to give her a chance, Sam. I know she's difficult, but she's a product of her upbringing."

"That's total crap, Lindy. You and Chip had the same upbringing and you aren't sending anybody links to the StormFront Web site and calling their husbands porch monkeys," Sam said angrily, slamming his drink down on the table. He'd missed Thanksgiving and now Christmas with his parents and wasn't in the mood to be forgiving with a family who had treated him, with the exception of his father-in-law, first like a piece of furniture and then like total garbage. "Your dad isn't like her either, she's a racist and a snob and she's got no excuse."

"You're reading my email? What the hell, Sam?"

"You left your computer open. I could see you were upset and you weren't talking about it, so yeah, I looked at your email. Maybe you should empty the Trash if you don't want people to see what you deleted."

"Are you kidding me?" Belinda shouted. "You totally invade my privacy and now you're saying it's my fault?"

"I'm saying, stop making excuses for your family. I'm willing to hear what your mom has to say, but I'm not going to roll on my back like a puppy if she offers me some kind of bone."

"That's easy for you to say," Belinda retorted angrily. "You've got the perfect little family. So you can look down on my people. Yes, they are a pain in the ass, but they are the only family I've got."

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm your family, Belinda. Our baby is your family. My parents have totally taken you into their hearts; they're your family. I get that you don't want to hold a grudge--your sorority sisters, that bitch at the ultrasound--but don't be such a doormat. Your mother. . ."

"Shut up about my mother. Shut about how I'm supposed to act." Belinda yelled. "Just shut up. . ." She went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Sam stared at the closed door, not sure what to do next. "Merry fucking Christmas," he said to himself. He guessed their plans for a nice Christmas dinner at a restaurant were out the window. He could hear Belinda crying from behind the door but didn't have the strength to deal with it right now. Sam pulled a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch to read a book. He couldn't hear Belinda crying in the bedroom anymore and he thought perhaps she had gone to sleep. He lost track of time, until his cell phone buzzed with a new text message. "R we still on 4 dinner?"

"Yeah," he texted back. He didn't know whether to go in and check on her. They'd had their squabbles like any couple, but this was their first real shouting match, and the issues that led to it were far from resolved. It was easier just to sit on the couch and drink a beer. Just the thought of Susannah was enough to make Sam tired. Still, if they were going out to dinner, he needed to get cleaned up. . .