The buzz of an incessant fly, soaring around her bed, gently woke Mitzee from her afternoon nap. She was lying across her double feather bed, dressed only in her bloomers and a blouse, curled up on the soft goose down comforter that her maid, Neena, had quilted for her. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. There it was again. It was becoming annoying. She wanted it to stop, and stop now.
There was hardly a breeze filtering through the open windows of the second story bedroom of her plantation home in the humid Louisiana delta. The hot summer sun was doing a grand job of baking the countryside and generally, making life miserable for her. It was difficult to keep her makeup from running in such stifling heat. If it was that torturous for her, she could hardly imagine how severe it must be for the three dozen slaves who labored from sunup to sunset on her 640 acre plantation.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. "Neena!" she hollered. "Neena, come here right now." That darned fly had to go.
"Yes, miss Mitzee. What can I do for you," Neena asked as she stepped inside the bedroom. Neena was an attractive 18-year old Negra who had been born on the plantation. Her long muscular legs, well developed buttocks, and slender waist supported an athletic upper body, accentuated by two firm breasts which bounced freely beneath the soft cotton material of her white summer dress. Mitzee's father had treated her special, from the day she was born. Shortly after her birth, he had brought Neena's mother into the house to cook. Mitzee was 18 at the time. She had spent many a day playing with and caring for young Neena, to the point where she was like a second mother. Neena's skin, smooth and blemish-free, was a lighter shade of brown than her mother, almost creamed coffee color. That was quite unusual since all of the other slaves were much darker.
Mitzee's father had been killed during the civil war, and her mother had died a year later from the heart ache of losing him. Now Mitzee, and her husband Lawrence were left alone to run the plantation. They had no children, because of a war injury her husband suffered. She had yearned for children, but had resigned herself to the fact that it was a virtual impossibility.
The slaves who had stayed behind after the war, were not really slaves anymore. Something called the Emancipation Proclamation had given all slaves their freedom. About half the slaves left the plantation, heading up north to look for a better life. The rest stayed, of their own free will, because Mitzee and her husband were very kind to them, and the plantation provided a good living for all concerned.
"Neena, swat that dreaded fly for me. He is buzzing all over the place and bothering me something awful." As Neena tracked down the fly and shooed it out the open window, Mitzee stretched languishingly, as she lay on the bed, admiring the gracefulness and beauty of Neena's sleek body, silhouetted against the bright light of the noonday sun, shining through the window. She was attracted to Neena, in a sexual sort of way that she just couldn't put into words. She had never felt like this toward another woman, but Neena was so innocent and beautiful. Moreover, she and Mitzee had a very special relationship, which had developed over the years.
"Neena, honey. I would kill for a cold drink of your mama's fresh squeeze lemonade. How about running down stairs and bring me big glass full." Neena, quick to please her misses, bowed in a polite curtsy and left the room. Mitzee sat upright on the edge of the bed and stretched again. She stood up and sauntered over to the open window, reaching up to tie her shoulder length brunette hair in a pony tail, as she gazed out across the fields. Her cotton blouse was unbuttoned to the waist, and her large melon sized breasts stood out, supported by her brassiere, as if being offered up on a platter. She brought her hands down to her chest as her long slender fingers cupped each large mammary, reveling in there weight and fullness.
She suddenly got the urge to tweak and tease her sensitive nipples. As she pinched and rolled her swollen nipples between her thumbs and fingers, she looked down onto the lawn and made eye contact with a young black buck named John. He quickly looked away and ducked his head as he made his way toward the stables. Mitzee realized he had been watching her fondle her half naked breasts, while standing in front of the open window. The thought made her become quite wet in her crotch as she moved back from the window. She made a mental note to deal with young John later.
Neena returned with the glass of lemonade as Mitzee stood in front of the dresser mirror, admiring her 38-year old body. She still looked young and healthy, though she was getting up in years. She took the glass from Neena and sipped on the cool, sweet, and tart yellow liquid.
"Your mamma makes the best lemonade in the whole world," she said as Neena stood behind her, admiring her reflection in the mirror. "Help me get these clothes off so I can get dressed for lunch, Neena honey."
Mitzee set the glass of lemonade on the dresser as Neena reached around her waist, from behind, and finished unbuttoning her misses' cotton blouse. She and Mitzee made eye contact in the mirror as she slipped the blouse off her shoulders. As she stood in front of the mirror, in her brassiere and bloomers, she marveled at the erotic contrast of their skin. She was Lilly white, while Neena was milk chocolate.
