Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 01

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Life "Below Stairs" can be fun.
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 08/30/2004
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The Hamptons in Summer time is great. At least, it is if you have lots of money. Mike Robertson didn’t have lots of money, but he never the less found himself in Easthampton from Memorial Day to Labor Day each year.

He found himself there because of his job, as a Butler to wealthy couple, Mr & Mrs Leigh, who spent the rest of the year based in their 5th Avenue Penthouse, within which he had his own small apartment. A couple of weeks before Memorial Day, he had ridden the Jitney out to Easthampton to get the house ready. It was only the second summer that the Leighs had owned this house, having rented for a number of years before deciding to buy. It was a modest, six bedroom house not far from the airport, with the usual facilities.

Mike called ahead to book a car service to take him to the house, and arrived just after 5 pm, when the evening light shone through the windows as he went round the house checking all was well. He went to his own quarters, a self-contained apartment over the garage, and unpacked his few belongings; most of his summer clothing was kept out here, as, indeed was his beloved BMW motorcycle. After showering and changing, Mike decided that it was time to eat. He fired up the bike, and headed west on Route 27 to his favorite restaurant, one of the few within the range of his expense account.

As he entered the familiar building, the Hostess, Christina, looked at him, and suddenly her face broke into a smile of recognition.

“Mike!” she said, “Where have you been all winter? We’ve missed you.”

“Missed my expense account, you mean.” Replied Mike with a grin. “Do you have a table for one?”

Christina glanced around the room in which three or four of the thirty tables were occupied.

“I think I can squeeze you in.” she said, and grabbing a menu led Mike across the room to a table by the wall, where he liked to sit and people watch as he ate. As he followed Christina across the room, his eyes were drawn to her shapely rump as she swayed her hips provocatively. “No VPL,” he thought as he eyed the tight fitting skirt in front of him, “either a thong, or no panties at all, the saucy minx.” Christina sat him down, and handed him the menu. As she bent forward to point out which items were not available, Mike was treated to a delightful view of the valley between her luscious breasts, which were just restrained by the tight black top that she wore. As always, Mike raised his eyes to meet hers, and noted the teasing smile on her face. “So, Chrissy, what are doing after you finish work tonight?”

“You know perfectly well,” she said. “I’ll be taking the Chef upstairs for night of passion and romance. I’ll send your waitress over.” Mike sighed wistfully as Christina, joint owner, together with her chef husband, of the restaurant sashayed her way back to the door.

Mike looked at the familiar menu, as a waitress came over. “Good evening, my name is Erica, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?” Mike ordered a Martini, and discreetly eyed the waitress as she busied herself at the bar. Short, slender and – he noticed – no wedding band. He thought there might be a little fun to be had flirting with this girl as the summer went on. Erica brought his drink, and stood ready to take his order. After he had done ordering, she gazed at him thoughtfully and asked, “Are you from England?”

“Yes” replied Mike, “I am.”

“Isn’t that something!” exclaimed Erica. “You’re the second English person I’ve served tonight. An Englishwoman was in earlier. She works as a Housekeeper for some rich folks who’ve rented a house for the summer, and she came out early to get everything ready.”

Mike found this interesting, but didn’t give it any further thought until he arrived back at the Restaurant for his dinner the next evening.

“Hey, welcome back!” said Christina. “You want to meet somebody from your own country?”

“Why not?” said Mike and she led him to his usual table. Seated at the next table was a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. Reddish hair tied back in a pony tail, a dusting of freckles over her nose, and a voluminous sweatshirt with the words, “Vail Mountain Resort” written on it were all he could see above the table. Mike nodded a brief greeting to her, and sat down to peruse the all too familiar menu. The woman spoke, in a gentle Irish brogue, “Could you tell me what’s good? They tell me you’re a regular here.”

“Well, it’s all pretty good. I like the Clam Chowder and the Duck Breast.”

“If you recommend it, I’ll try it.”

“Erica said you were English, but I can tell you’re Irish. These Americans can’t tell one accent from another! I gather that you work as a Housekeeper – is that nearby? How did you come to be working in the States? Whereabouts are you from? I’m Mike, by the way.”

Mike realized that he was gabbling, but found the woman vaguely enticing, as her blue eyes sparkled at him above the menu.

“Well now, there’s a lot to be answering in one go and on an empty stomach. Just give me a wee minute to get a drink and order some food! ”

They ordered their drinks and meals, and little was said as they ate and concentrated on their food. As they settled with their coffee, the woman moved sideways to sit opposite Mike at his table.

“Saves shouting.” she said, “Now, what was it you were asking me? Ah, yes, well my name is Siobhan, I’m Irish, as you noticed, and originally I’m from a little place not far from Kilarney. I first came over here 10 years ago as a student, and spent the summer on working on the Hampton Jitney. I met a guy whilst I was working, and we had a wee fling, and I found that I was pregnant. We got married, and then when I was six months gone we had a road accident in the February snows, and I miscarried. It was never the same after that, and we stayed together just long enough for me to get my Green Card and then we split. I moved to New York City, and started to do a bit of cleaning to make ends meet. One of the people I worked for offered me a permanent job when their maid left, and then when their daughter got married a year or so back she offered me a job as House Manager. I run their town house, and as they’ve rented a house out here this summer, I’ve come out a bit ahead to make sure everything’s ready.

There you are, my life story! Your turn, Michael.”

Mike took a deep breath, and began to tell his story. He had grown up in southern England, and had joined the Royal Navy as an officer’s Steward. After 10 years, he was a Chief Petty Officer, responsible for running the wardroom in a big shore establishment. He was considering signing on again, when he saw a job advertisement for the Royal Household. He called an old shipmate who was, by then, serving in the Royal Yacht, and, following his advice, applied for the position. After a number of fairly testing interviews, he was offered a job as Footman in the household of a “minor” member of the Royal Family, who lived in a “Grace and Favour” apartment in one of the London palaces. He found that there was a high turnover of staff, as the Lady of the house was very demanding. Before long, as people left, he found himself an Under Butler, but increasingly unhappy. Not only was Her Royal Highness a very difficult woman to work for (her husband was easy going enough) but he found it increasingly difficult as the only “straight” member of the household. He made discreet enquiries, and signed up with a number of agencies who said that they would have no difficulty in placing him

Within a week of leaving the Palace, one of the agencies called and offered him a job interview. It was for a limited period, and was for an American couple who needed somebody to look after them as they stayed in London to be near their eldest daughter, who was in a hospice as she was suffering from Leukemia. After seven months, the daughter died, and Mike took care of all the arrangements to ship her body home and went back to New York with Mr & Mrs Leigh to help organize the funeral. The upshot was that they offered him a full time position, and had their own lawyer deal with all the immigration requirements for him to get a working visa. He had now been with the Leighs for 5 years, and was fairly settled.

“So,” said Siobhan, “You know the Hamptons as well as New York, then?”

“I do, but if you worked the Jitney and lived out here you probably know it better than I do.”

“Well, now, to be sure, that was a few years ago now.”

They glanced round, and realized that they were the only people in the restaurant. Erica, their waitress caught Mike’s eye, and brought the checks over. As they left together, Christina gave them a knowing look. In the parking lot, Siobhan moved toward a Lexus SUV as Mike put on his helmet to get on his bike.

“Do you have far to go?” he asked.

“Just about half a mile away – I was just too tired to walk it this evening.”

“Sounds like it’s near where we rented last year. What’s the address?

Siobhan thought for a second, then told him.

“Hey, that IS the place we were in last summer. Do you still get the rooms over the pool house? And did they ever fix the Air Conditioning in the master Suite and the controls for the pool and spa?”

“Now there’s a coincidence! Yes, I’m over the pool house, and I’m still trying to figure out the aircon and the pool. And the phone system is a nightmare.”

Mike thought for a minute, and said, “I think I’ve still got a lot of stuff on my laptop that I wrote down last year in case we went back. It took me all summer to work out the pool – would you like me to print the stuff off and bring it over tomorrow evening? I think I can remember the little tweaks that you have to give the pool controls, as well.”

“That would be great! Thanks, Mike, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Siobhan flashed him a smile, climbed into her car, and drove away. Mike was in thoughtful mood as he rode back. Siobhan seemed a very pleasant woman – probably 29 or 30, and he couldn’t help wondering what her figure like under the baggy sweat shirt and cargo pants. As he settled into his bed, he saw her again in his mind’s eye as she had been in the restaurant. Telling her story in a matter fact way, keeping eye contact through both their tales. Her clear, blue eyes, above the lightly freckled nose, beneath the pale eyelashes, and with the small crows’ feet at the corners when she smiled. Ah, yes, the smile. Her face came alive when she smiled, as she showed her gleaming white teeth, with one of the incisors slightly crooked which gave her added character. That face was in Mike’s mind as he drifted off to sleep.

The following evening, Mike finished his work for the day, and showered and changed as his computer printed out all his notes from last summer. As he collated it all, he thought how lucky it was that he had kept it.

He knocked at Siobhan’s front door at 7 o’clock, and she was surprised to see him.

“And how did you get through the gates?” she asked sternly.

Mike grinned, “First thing you need to do is change the gate code. I just tried last year’s, and it let me in. I can show you how to do that, if you like.”

He noticed that Siobhan was again wearing a baggy sweat shirt – this time bearing the logo of a well known New York dry cleaner – and he made a mental note to look out for her there, as he used the same establishment. They sat down at the kitchen table, and Mike ran through his notes. He explained the phone, security and all the various other household systems.

“No sense in reinventing the wheel” he said when Siobhan began to thank him.

“OK, then, the least I can do is but you dinner.”

Christina’s eyes opened a little wider as Mike and Siobhan entered the restaurant together, and she gave a broad grin as they asked for a table for two.

“You don’t waste any time” she whispered to Mike as she showed them to their table.

Siobhan turned round, and said, “It’s a business arrangement!”

“Well!” said Christina, “I never took you for that kind of girl.” and with a broad grin, she returned to her post by the door.

Siobhan was aghast.

“Did she just say what I think she said?”

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t mean anything by it.”

The meal passed pleasantly, and Mike spent most of the time answering Siobhan’s questions about the house. As they left, they paused in the parking lot. Mike gave her has business card, and said she shouldn’t hesitate to call him if she had a problem. Siobhan looked at him, smiled gently, and said, “You’re very kind. Thank you.” Leaning forward, she gave him a peck on the cheek, and hopped into her car and drove away. Mike watched her tail lights disappear down the road, mounted his motorcycle and rode home. His thoughts were in more of a turmoil that night, and it took him longer to get to sleep as the images of Siobhan’s face lingered in his mind.

The next afternoon, Mike was just leaving K Mart when his cell phone rang. It was Siobhan.

“Mike? I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a couple of wee problems. I can’t get the pool controls to work at all, and there’s a major problem with the air-conditioning in the master suite. Is there any chance that you could pop round and have a look?”

“No problem, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

Again, Siobhan looked surprised to see him when he presented himself at the door.

“But I changed the gate code!”

“I know. But you use the same garbage collectors, and I just punched in the last four digits of their phone number. That’ll get you in almost anywhere.” He grinned. This time, Siobhan had obviously been working. The sweat shirt and cargo pants were missing, and in their place was a loose fitting tee shirt and jeans. Her long, red gold hair was still tied back in a pony tail, though a few wisps of hair had escaped, and there was a smudge of dirt on her face. He suggested that he check out the pool controls first, as that was nearer. It took Mike about 10 minutes to work out what the problem was, and less than two to explain it to Siobhan, who was very quick on the uptake. They made their way down to the basement where the air conditioning units were. Mike checked everything, and reached behind.

“As I thought, the safety cutout has operated. You need to feel for it and push it to reset.”

Siobhan reached round, and fumbled. Seeing that she was obviously unable to find it, Mike stood close behind her, and, taking her hand, he guided it to the switch. As Siobhan pressed it, the satisfying sound of the unit coming to life met their ears as the vibration of the machinery shuddered through both their bodies.

Mike let go of her hand, and stepped back. Siobhan turned slowly and looked at him.

“Thanks” was all she said, as they turned and made their way out of the basement. As they reached the door to the stairway, Mike stopped. He had spotted that one of the water pipes that ran through the uncovered ceiling seemed to be leaking. He pointed it out to Siobhan, who asked if he knew where she could get hold of a plumber. Mike looked at his watch, and said that there was no chance at that time of the evening. He suddenly remembered something, and led Siobhan out to the garage where, in a cabinet, he found a tool kit.

“I thought this might still be here” he said as he checked the contents, and found that he had all he needed to repair the leaking joint. The two of them returned to the basement, where Mike turned off the water supply before starting to undo the joint. As the pipe came free, all the water in that part of the spouted out, soaking both him and Siobhan. As the flow dropped to a trickle, Mike shook the water from his eyes and resealed the joint. When he turned the water back on, there was no leak. Coming down the ladder, he glanced at Siobhan, who had both arms crossed over her chest. He realized that her soaking wet tee shirt was almost transparent, and as she turned her back to lead him out, he could see that she was not wearing a bra. As they emerged from the basement, she turned to look at Mike. As she started to say her thanks, Mike cut her short, saying that there was no need for that, but instead he should apologize for having soaked her. Siobhan put her arms to her sides, and looked down at her sodden clothes. Her tee shirt clung to what Mike could now see were two small, but firm breasts. As she cooled in the air conditioned room, her nipples grew and, realizing this, she hastened to cover them with her hands.

“Come,” she said, “We need some dry clothes. I’ve a bathrobe that you can borrow whilst your stuff goes in the drier.”

Emerging from the bathroom in Siobhan’s suite, engulfed in a fluffy bathrobe that was obviously the property of the Man of the House, Mike sat down to wait for Siobhan as she took their sopping clothes to the laundry room and put them in the drier. When she returned, she had a bottle of red wine, and a couple of glasses.

“This should help us get over the ordeal” she said, expertly drawing the cork. She offered Mike a sip to taste, and, when he murmured his approval, she poured them each a glass, and sat beside Mike on the sofa. She raised her glass, and asked,

“What should we drink to?”

Mike thought for a moment, and replied, “To a hassle free summer for us both.” They clinked glasses, and sipped their wine. Mike looked at Siobhan, and noted the clean white tee shirt that she now wore, with a pair of shorts. With her face scrubbed, and her damp hair now loose, she looked about seventeen. Taking a deep breath, Mike told her that. Siobhan laughed, and accused him of being a flatterer. They gazed at one another, and, as one, they put their glasses down and moved towards each other. They kissed, gently, on the lips, pulled apart, and moved together and kissed again. Siobhan sat back, breathing a little heavily. Mike could, once again, see her nipples poking through her tee shirt. They closed for a third time, and as they kissed, their arms went round each other. Mike felt Siobhan’s tongue prodding his lips, and as he opened them, it shot into his mouth and their tongues began a fencing match. Mike’s hands moved up and down Siobhan’s back, and, as he felt her hands inside his bathrobe to his chest, he moved one hand round tentatively to caress her left breast. Siobhan broke the kiss, and gasped a little and gave a girlish smile.

“I’m sorry there’s not much there.”

“It feels perfect.” Said Mike and, gazing into her eyes brought his other hand to her right breast and began slowly circling both hard nipples with his thumbs. Siobhan put her hands on his, closed her eyes, and pressed his hands to her. She leaned forward for another kiss, and Mike’s hands slipped round to her back again. As their tongues danced, Mike slowly began to lift the hem of her tee shirt. She eased back a little from her tight embrace to make it easier, and raised her arms to allow him to remove it totally. They fell back on the sofa, Siobhan on top of Mike as they indulged in another deep kiss, Mike’s hand now stroking her naked breast. Siobhan adjusted her position, so that she could undo the belt of Mike’s bathrobe. She rested her forearm on his stomach as her hand ran through his chest hair to fondle his nipples. Mike’s spare hand moved down her back, and fondled her tight buttock through her shorts. Siobhan let out a little squeak as he insinuated his hand under the top of her shorts to try and reach her naked flesh, but the waistband was too tight.

“Wait a minute” said Siobhan breathlessly; she stood up and began to fumble with her belt buckle. Mike stood, and as his robe fell open at the front he helped her with the her shorts. As he slid them from her hips, he could feel his erection squeezed between their stomachs as he fondled her naked buttocks. Siobhan slid her hand between them, and gripped his penis, sighing. They moved a little apart, and Siobhan led him by the penis through to her bedroom. As he shrugged off the bathrobe, she stripped off her thong and stood before him. They gazed at one another for a moment. He took in her small, pert breast with the now rock hard nipples rising and falling as she breathed, her smooth white stomach and the wild triangle of ginger hair at the top of her shapely legs. In turn, she looked at his firm body, hairy chest and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel, which was almost concealed by the seven inch erection that sprouted from the mass of dark hair at his loins. As they closed once more and kissed, he felt the coarse scratch of her pubic hair against his glans, now partially exposed as his erection began to outgrow his foreskin. Gently, he pushed her back against the bed, and lowered her down.

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