2. Austin

"Mother, before you leave... I need the financial book keeping." I said in a hurry. If things were going to change, I needed to be in control of every aspect. Things around here were about to be modified. I respected the way my parents had always handled it but it was time for a little discipline. The negroes here were far too comfortable compared to the Gallagher's.

"Merri handles the book keeping.." My mother summoned taking a sip of her tea. I furrowed my eyebrows waiting for her to tell me it was a little banter to ruffle my feathers.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Son, Merrigold is remarkably intelligent." My father chipped in.

Running my hand through my jet black hair, I bit on my lip very hard not pleased at all. "You taught that rat mathematics? Mother Father, are you mental? No wonder she dare slapped me. What else will you inform me that she dines with us and has a room in the house. Pathetic and very illegal."

My mother shook her head whispering to my father as if I was not there. "Knowing Merri, if she slapped you then it was for a good reason. Secondly, you do not speak to your mother and I in such a volatile manner. We raised you better than the barbaric imbecile you mirror."

Putting my lips in a thin line. "Does she reside in this house?" Because I will go nuts, trying to refrain from shagging her until my cock hurts.

"Yes." My mother added, giving me her pretty smile. Her straight teeth, out-front. She was beautiful, there was no other woman I loved more than my birth giver and that would not change anytime soon. Equally the same with my father, they were down to earth always had been and I suppose many people took advantage of that. I was a replica of my father in his early days, same black jet hair and my dull gray eyes with flecks of gold and brown. At first glance people always assumed they were blue or green, depending on the lighting and my choice of clothing. As a young boy, my mother would always fuss over how special it was and that not many people had grey eyes. None of it mattered to me, everyone fussed about their looks. I thought I was pretty average, I had been told multiple times that 'nice-looking' 'stunning' 'sightly' 'handsome' 'well built'

In all honesty that is not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear about my skills when I have a woman begging, my performance when I make a woman shudder with bliss, I'd say the size of my junk but that did not appeal to me either. I was over insecurities of a teenage boy who constantly compared his size to his mates and brother for any sought of validation. My validation came from the moans of pleasure that escaped a woman's lips when I ravaged her.

"We decided to give her a room in the house because she deserved it."

"Deserved it? What did she do? Go for war and returned a hero!"

My parents chuckled. "Austin, do not be ridiculous. You will love the girl."

"Of course." I said sarcastically.

—

My parents had said their goodbyes and left. Prying around the house, I noted that of course my very kind accommodating parents would have extended a pantry into a room. Something a negro did not at all deserve. Perhaps they weren't so kind, with the amount of room all abandoned by my siblings, I wondered why did they not give her one of those instead of taking so much more effort building this for her. Empty and I unlocked, I went in... a mesmerizing scent immediately hint me some sort of vanilla or lavender. I could not quite tell. Dull and boring colors that reminded me of a prison cell. Her bed was neatly made, everything was in place for some reason that appealed to me because there is nothing I loathed more than filthiness, although negroes were filth in their own animalistic form. Not giving much thought, I began to go through a single drawer that seemed to have all her clothes... very few clothes, I thought to myself. Her undergarments were as dull as her room, her drawers did bring me some sort of... would not call it excitement, it was rather I liked her smell or whatever it was. Bringing it to my nose, I inhaled the spellbound scent. The thought that this had passed her lowest region—

What am I doing? I thought to myself, immediately coming to a halt. I felt utterly disgusted with my actions, how was I entertaining the thoughts of a negro that I had only met three days ago. This was so unlike me, so unlike my usual character. Deciding I wouldn't entertain anymore of this odd aphrodisia, I walked out immediately banging the door behind me. I knew if it went too far, I'd have to have her. Borrow her a little bit from her so called lover. My cock stiffened almost immediately at the thought. Agreeing that I would not entertain it any further but if it took a toll on me I'd have to visit my dear Jane.

A little flabbergasted, I instructed one of the help to make me a cup of coffee. With whirlpool thoughts, speak of the devil. She made her way towards me, her face somber. She laid a book flat on the table and— I could tell that it took everything within her to show me respect.

"Master Austin, the book—"

"Done playing for the day, I assume?" I smirked, she frowned.

"I do not understand?"

"Your lover, I meant you're done satisfying him already. I reckon the last time it was exactly at this time that I caught you two in the barn."

Restraining from making an outburst, she smiled lightly. For a second my eyes focused on the way her plump lips contoured into a widening grin.. so innocent yet alluring. I did not know if I should feel— I felt odd. Probably sick, a minor fever. It always made me very unfocused and more uncomfortable. I always made other uncomfortable not the other way round in all honesty. "Mrs. Cunningham informed me that I should escort you through the financial book keeping..."

"Of course, with the house all to ourselves we have all the time to get through that." I added make her cringe or was it a gist of fear hidden beneath that cold exterior. It made me wonder just how long until she breaks. The help sat my cup of coffee, I could not help but add a remark.

"Ooh, thank you so much Nancy, I reckon this is what some negroes should be doing... making great coffee."

If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. She excused herself, telling the help that she would not be having supper. Such a shame because I would have loved to share a table with her. Feast with her or feast on her.