CHAPTER 4
Living in the same house, Belinda and Sam found themselves bumping into each other, although neither seemed to realize the sudden rush, the sexual jolt those meetings brought about in the other. After a few days, Belinda screwed up her courage and headed down the hill to the construction zone in the garden. At least she had that to cover what was her growing curiosity about the handsome young man living and working in her home. Sam and Mr. Sims were only too happy to show her how the plans were coming to life: where the rock waterfall would be, how it would flow into the small faux stream and come to rest in a lily pond. She explored the benches that would hide all the pumps and electronics that would maintain the system.
She also made it a point to "happen" to be outside when Sam took his lunch breaks on the back patio, even offering to carry his lunch out so Mrs. Sims could keep on with her tasks. She just had to make sure her mother wasn't around, "Really, Belinda," she could hear her how mother's haughty voice would sneer, "how could a girl from such a fine family turn out so common. Waiting on the help..." She'd stand and talk to him for a few minutes, learning that he was getting ready to start the last year of his M.B.A program at State. Funny that they went to the same university but never met, but that's the way it was. People "kept to their own kind." Every single girl in her sorority was white, and it was the same for all the sororities and fraternities, except those that were exclusively black. Classes were mixed, but outside the classroom door, State was almost totally segregated.
As the days passed, she'd find time between working on her courses and planning the kitchen work to "come down to check on progress" of the water garden. Out of sight of the house, she felt comfortable sitting on the new stone benches that he had built, talking to him while he worked for as long as an hour while her father was at work and her mother was out with her ladies who lunched. They learned they liked quite a bit of the same music—classic soul and bluegrass—were both interested in international relations and politics and admired many of the same authors and professors.
Sam found his feelings changing. At first he assumed she was like the other Pi Phi's he'd had classes with at school...trading on their looks because there wasn't much upstairs other than plans for their next vacation or trip to the spa or anywhere else that took daddy's credit card. Not that Belinda didn't take care of her looks or what she wore. He could tell by looking at her that she spent time making sure her skin was smooth and soft and her hair gorgeous, and her clothes were perfect, elegant and classy but never disguising that there was a beautiful body underneath. But he could tell it wasn't a topic of endless fascination for her; it was just something girls like her did. He still thought about her at night, but part of him felt guilty using her as a fantasy, now that he saw how kind and intelligent and truly interesting she was, and not at all like her mother, who hadn't bothered to learn his name even though he lived in her house. Still, he couldn't help himself, and she was the girl he stroked himself off to night after night, his disk hard in his work-calloused hand until he shot his load. He had even, he was embarrassed to admit, caught a few pictures of her ass on his iPhone that he looked at when he pulled his rock-hard cock out of his boxers and rubbed himself until came.
*
CHAPTER 5
The summer might have gone on the same, but for a chance meeting one night. In his room in the servant's wing just off the kitchen, Sam awoke one night to hear sounds coming from down the hall. He took a moment to get his bearings and make sure it wasn't the wind or the house shifting...there was definitely someone in the kitchen. Looking around the room, he looked around for something he could use as a weapon, but the heaviest thing he could find was a thick book. "Better than nothing," he thought, as he crept down the hall toward the kitchen, hoping that the intruder was smaller than him and that he would be aided by the element of surprise. Peering around the corner, he laughed out loud. There was only one small light on over the stove, but he caught sight of the "intruder" at the refrigerator, her honey brown hair in a low twist and wearing a nightgown as she picked up a late-night snack.
"What's so funny?" Belinda asked indignantly, turning around with an apple in one hand and a bottled water in the other.
"I thought someone had broken in," Sam told her, still chuckling. "I was coming in here to knock you out with this," he said, holding up a dense history book. Now it was Belinda's turn to laugh, and, as she did, Sam noticed what she was wearing, as well as just how sexy it made her look. Thin lace straps went over her shoulders, holding up the soft pink satin nighty that cut to a low vee in the front. Another band of lace ran just below her B-cup breasts. The shimmery fabric went down loosely from there, coming to mid-thigh, and it was thin enough that he could see the shape of her nipples through the garment, her narrow waist and her toned thighs. "So, is it true what they say about 'Pi Phi Pajamas'? Sam asked in a husky voice. It certainly looks like it is."
Belinda caught his eyes staring and her breasts, and, before she could even think, it was like an electric shock hit her, causing her nipples to crinkle and tighten, making them even more visible through the nighty. "Yes," she answered. "That particular rumor is true." She had joined the sorority, the same one her mother had belonged to, mostly to keep her parents happy. It was nice not living in the dorms, but some of the rules were a bit odd. Take the "Pi Phi Pajamas." With a well-known goal of helping the members earn an MRS. degree, the house cultivated a certain aura. After 9:30, when the servants had gone home and only house mothers and sisters were allowed on the property, the sisters were required to wear nightwear that was deemed "suitable for a husband." That meant no sweats and slippers, but instead plenty of satin and lace. It also meant that her father, who had been hooked by the Pi Phi mystique back in her mother's day, didn't question the large purchases on her credit card at Victoria's Secret and Agent Provacateur when the bills came due each month.
Sam set the book down on the kitchen counter. He was trying to keep his breathing even, but moving his gaze between Belinda's enchanting green eyes, which he had just noticed had golden flecks in the green, to the gold lace straps to her breasts, that was becoming difficult. He had come out of his room wearing nothing but a pair of loose pajama bottoms, which were inadequate to the task of holding in his rock-hard erection. Belinda found her breathing matching his as she admired his sculpted pecs, normally covered by a t-shirt when he was working, and she gasped slightly when her eyes dropped below his waist and she noticed the effect she was having on him there. Teasingly, she said, "So, you were going to knock me out with that book? Looks like you've got something a little harder you could have used as a weapon."
Their eyes locked on each other, the two stepped closer together until they were just an inch apart. Belinda could feel the heat coming off Sam's body as he leaned in and kissed her softly. They explored each other's lips, then Belinda opened her mouth slightly and inserted her tongue as the pair moved to a deep French kiss. She shuddered with desire.
Sam broke the kiss, concerned, "Are you cold?"
