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."
CHAPTER 1
"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.
