Kim
The origins of the Pinehurst House are revealed by its owner as she welcomes back her adult son. The roots of the family run deep within the Bed and Breakfast home and will continue as they keep it within the family business....
Prologue
In the longer term... and especially if worked towards with determination... most situations of adversity can be overcome. Perhaps sometimes it is true that happy co-incidence can play a part, but a "happy ending" can often be brought about on the single proviso that people should want it enough. The rest is down to that determination.
****************************
Finally pulling his van into the gravelled driveway outside Pinehurst, Graham's gaze hit on a scene of comings and goings. What appeared to be a couple with a boy and a girl, both teenage, were packing their luggage into their car, whilst another family were busy alighting from a taxi which had driven up behind. Being deprived of an obvious place to park, Graham moved his van further on and round to the side of the house, drawing eventually to a halt outside the few remaining Scots Pines which had once provided inspiration for the house name.
Obviously at one time an imposing red-brick, Victorian farmhouse and still retaining a couple of substantial outhouses recently converted into guest accommodation, Pinehurst now found itself in a position of splendid isolation, the surrounding fields having long since been sold off to neighbouring farming estates. Although standing quite close to the public road, it was some distance from the nearest village and a car was distinctly necessary for any kind of tourism. Graham had fond memories of his upbringing at the house. He and his older sister, Polly, had enjoyed the freedom of the substantial rear garden with its orchard of apple, pear and cherry. Long, hot summers and lemon squash served under parasols spread out on the patio. Cosy, snowbound winters and Christmases enjoyed together... with all the seasonal paraphernalia.
Yes, togetherness. The family had been close knit and devastation had come with the early death of his father, very much the household patriarch. Almost immediately, his mother had taken the situation in hand and started the B&B business. This had been the saving of Pinehurst as the family home. They would otherwise have had to sell up and move to some wretched, anonymous suburban semi. It had been awkward at first, sharing the house with an unending series of strangers... but it was something you got used to. As Graham walked back around to the front of the house, he took in the familiar shapes of the eaves and the windows, and compared the warm nostalgia this provoked with the cold soullessness given out by the pokey, two-bedroom flat which he and wife Claire now called home. He sighed.
At the front entrance, he found his mother in the middle of a balancing act... half attempting to wave goodbye to the departing car and half trying to cope with the new arrivals. These were in a state of pandemonium, largely on account of the teenage girl's sullen attitude to the others. She was repeating in a loud voice the fact that her suitcase was far too small to accommodate all of the items she had wanted to bring. This message was put out for all to hear and, Graham thought, would have carried far and wide to the neighbours... if Pinehurst had had any. The fact that her bright yellow case was at least half as large again as any of the others brought out by the taxi driver seemed neither here nor there.
'Well, yes, if the youngsters would go on up to their rooms - Hayley, yours is the "Oak Room", number four and you're in "Maple", number three, Gary - Mum and Dad will stay here with me and discuss some last-minute details, Is that okay?'
Sonia's voice had a practised edge to it. Unruly teenagers were nothing new to her and she had developed ways of cutting through to the chase. Hayley, it seemed though, was not to be denied a final, flouncing flourish.
'Fine, but I'm not carting anything upstairs. I don't know why we're here, anyway.' The words were uttered with a flounce of her head and a gaze which travelled everywhere but to the faces of the others.
The mousey-looking father stepped forward with resignation writ large over his features.
'All right... I'll take it up for you. Dawn, you stay and talk with Mrs Turnbull.' He nodded towards his wife as he picked up the case.
'Come on, you two.'
Sonia gestured to Graham as the father and two teenagers disappeared through Pinehurst's large, open front doorway.
'This is my son Graham, Mrs Tiler. He's an electrical engineer amongst many other talents. He's come round to fix some things and will be leaving tomorrow. I... er... can see what you meant when we talked on the phone. '
That self-same look of resignation which had shown in Mr Tiler's eyes now came over his wife.
'Yes, we... er... have had to put up with it for... some time. We're hoping our stay with you can produce.... a difference.' Despair rang through her words and was clear to both Sonia and Graham.
'Well, look, don't worry. I've given you "Spruces" which is our large, family room... number six. As you'll see, it has all the necessary... facilities. And Graham will be on hand to give you help with things. These matters simply need a good, no-nonsense start and you'd be surprised how that sorts things out.'
'Of course.' Graham smiled reassuringly. He'd had to lend this kind of assistance in the past and it was all, as he viewed it, part of his help to his mother's business.
'Oh, good.' Mrs Tiler sounded none too convinced. 'Anyway, we'll take a taxi out to have an evening meal somewhere first... and afterwards I'll give you a short call if... when we need you.' She brandished her mobile, as if in demonstration.
****************************
Mother and son stared into each other's eyes over the remains of dinner, plates and cutlery still not tidied away but merely pushed to one side. Their arms, stretched out to each other, ended in clasped hands which rested on the table and fondled gently and lovingly. They each knew how lucky they were to have found each other - so many years ago now - and it was something they meant should continue. A smile was fixed on each face... a smile of deep and intimate personal knowledge. There was ultimate peace and quiet - the kind that came with each being totally at one with the other. They had been gazing at each other, fixed in this position, for a long period now. They needed nothing else. The togetherness was all that counted.
Sonia's phone suddenly came to life and broke the mutual trance with its soft trilling.
'Oh, hello Mrs Tiler. Yes? Right. Right... yes, no problem at all. I'll send Graham up shortly and he'll have it all sorted in no time. You'll see. Er... now, are you sure I can't tempt you with the recording I mentioned. It's extremely simple to arrange. No? Well, Graham will knock on your door in just a moment or two. Yes... of course. Bye now.'
She turned back to greet Graham's questioning look.
'Well, you heard... they're just arriving back. Wait a few moments after they go up and then follow. They're supposed to get her into their room - number six - on some pretext. I'll tidy away and wash up. Just carry on to my room afterwards and I'll join you after I've finished and locked up, OK?'
****************************
Sonia snuggled more deeply into her son's brawny arms, luxuriating in the musky smell of his sweat still drying after his labours of the last twenty minutes. She breathed it in deeply, remembering that self-same odour coming from his father's chest over a quarter of a century back now. She struggled to calm her breathing after her own exertions... her hips were still trying to buck, if ever so gently now.
Ah, Frank, taken from her so cruelly. How Graham reminded her of him... that same boyish grin, complete with his father's overwhelming masculinity and strength - and yet also that same vulnerability. He needed protecting from the world and its ills. Yes, she would see to it that life would throw him no further hard knocks. She conceded that she had spoiled him, perhaps just a little, but along with his sister he now represented all that remained of Frank - and that was a precious thing. He would have whatever he asked of her, spoiling or no spoiling. Before starting their love making he had whispered that he no longer wanted to wear a condom... which was fine by her. She had not told him but, in anticipation of just such a request, she had come off the Pill some many weeks back...
Why was the modern world so perverse? Why were so many marriages failing? Was it out of sheer selfishness - people not being able to bring themselves to make the necessary compromises and "stick" with it? She would have stayed with Frank through thick and thin, exactly as per the marriage vows which these days seemed to count for nought. Still, blood was thicker than water... and some spouses were just no good. Her son and daughter had made bad choices in that area. They had to be protected. She thought again of her earlier conversation with Polly and grimaced. That no good Tim with his forever-wandering eye... and not just his eye. Her grandson, Daniel, was a fine, well-set boy, if only now just into double figures. You could see there was something of Frank in him and that he would soon be maturing into a a good-looking youth. She had told Polly to keep him close and stay as intimate as possible, take baths together and do lots of chatting, excluding Tim from matters wherever possible. Yes, she could see the possibility - perhaps in a while - of them coming to live at Pinehurst.
Pinehurst was big enough for two families, absolutely. It was a family home and deserved to have the sound of young laughter echoing around its walls again. Its time as a B&B had been a pragmatic necessity but was now drawing to a close. She would see to that. It should have been Frank acting as patriarch to the family but she would have to fill his shoes... and she would do it with a determined will.
She felt Graham's hand smoothing over her stomach in a proprietorial way - just as Frank's used to do - coming to rest over her breast and moving the nipple gently. She wondered.
'Excuse me, my love. Just one moment. Hopefully we can have ourselves a bit of entertainment.'
Extricating herself from his arms briefly, she reached over to the far side of her bedside table and picked up a remote control. She studied it briefly and pressed a button. In response, the widescreen television incorporated into the bed's footrest elevated slowly and smoothly, then flickered into life. She pressed another button to select channel and the scene in room six sprang into view, seen obliquely from a ceiling corner hidden camera.
'They might not want to pay for any video footage but that doesn't stop us from viewing the real time feed. You were brilliant with installing this stuff, sweetheart!'
She leaned back against him and together they watched the action. In clear view, centered, was young Hayley Tiler, naked with her wrists tied to the posts of her bed. Graham's arms had provided the necessary muscle to achieve that... she had been so surprised at the suddenness of her seizing and being stripped, her family also participating with more than a will in proceedings. The yells had been long and loud, fear seared into her face, the normal reactions implied by parental ties being smothered by years of unsolicited emotional and actual physical abuse.
Her legs were now being held separated by her mother and brother, eager looks on their joy-filled faces, while her equally naked father rammed his member up and into her with frightening force. The bed was visibly shaking. Sonia could hardly credit that he had such energy in him. It just showed you what so much pent-up anger and frustration could work. The girl was jerking her head from side to side... and, despite the gag visible in her mouth, the yells were audible through the house... the electronic transmission was scarcely necessary. What a good job there were no other houses for miles...
They had caught the "action" on screen just as the girl's struggles were already abating. Presently, it became obvious that a change in attitude was taking place since brother and mother, as if by mutual agreement, had loosened control of Hayley's legs. These now raised themselves hesitantly to encircle her straining father's torso. They nodded to each other and made off to the main double bed where her son soon got to work impatiently between Dawn Tiler's thighs. It looked, Sonia thought, as though the fucking machine and the whips might not be needed. So much the better. Another little bitch tamed. Not for the first time had Pinehurst seen it happen under its roof.
She stretched her right hand down under the duvet and was delighted to find an already stiffening member. In response, she felt Graham's hand sliding down over her belly to clamp itself over her mound and slit, still more than moist and oozing slightly with the result of his previous effort. She pumped steadily but firmly on Graham's manhood, rejoicing in how it seemed to grow ever more massive in her grasp - and knowing that the faint squeals and gasps she could hear emanating from room six would soon be joined by her own. She could hardly believe how her plans were now coming together. She glowed inside with a maternal anticipation of her belly soon swelling with the fruit of her son's work... he deserved to be a father and she would do that for him... for the both of them... Hopefully, before too long, Polly would do the same for her son... and then Pinehurst would truly be a family home again, filled with the happiness only children could bring
Graham grew impatient and, brushing aside her hand, threw off the duvet and parted her legs both rapidly and in that no-nonsense way which she loved so dearly. He entered her quickly, thrusting his large member up and into her for the second time that night, eliciting the first of many small moans. In the moment, he did not care for anything other than the aim of achieving his release with this female. It was only at some subliminal level that his awareness of "coming home" was growing ever larger. It felt right in both the physical and emotional senses. His foray out into the wider world had been met with failure at the personal level - and this was exactly the comfort and balm he needed. Out there he was a nobody, being met with rebuffs and coldness. Here, in his mother's arms, there was nothing but pleasure - such pleasure, familiarity and a welcome warmth.
Here, he was a man, recognised and valued.
Here he would stay.
****************************
Graham looked up for a final time at the newly-installed and gleaming satellite dish with a nod of satisfaction before starting down the ladder. His handiwork, carried out as ever to a high, professional standard. Not the slap-dash effort of some time-serving, barely trained company lackey.
'Careful, son, I don't want any accidents just ahead of dinner!'
Sonia, on duty steadying the base of the ladder, had no real qualms about her son's attention to details of safety. It was more by way of making conversation. She did have half a concern regarding possible besmirching of her favourite, burgundy-red pregnancy dress which she had put on for today's family reunion meal - Graham tended to be somewhat slapdash in his approach to the cleanliness side of his work.
The old, rusty dish, now discarded and lying at her feet, made a surreal sculpture pair with the now dismantled bed and breakfast sign also reclining somewhat awkwardly a few feet away on the gravel. Graham had brought both down within the space of half an hour and put up the new dish. Truly, he was the very model of the "man about the house" these days. He had inherited his father's practical side in huge amounts and was saving the monthly household budget considerable sums on top of the moneys his job was now contributing to it, instead of to his wasted life with that barren leech, Claire.
Pinehurst was now no longer a B&B, no longer receiving paying guests. It was going to be a bit of a jolt for her and in many ways it was a pity. How many couples and families had it helped over the years? She wondered genuinely. Well, they would now have to find other ways of breaking free of society's unnatural shackles... but the injection of cash that Graham had brought with him certainly helped to make up for the income shortfall. How wonderful that the house was now returning to its former glory of being a lovely family home. She reflected on the change that was now coming upon them. A change in all senses, she thought as she felt her son's strong arms encircling her from behind and roving over her now magnificent "bump". His hand strayed further, pulling up that red dress and reaching lower to gently caress her hairy mound through her panties. Her eyes closed as she in turn raised one hand and reached behind her to fondle his neck. The two stayed locked in this loving, warm pose until the sound of wheels on gravel announced a car turning into Pinehurst's driveway.
Their haste to disengage from one another proved unnecessary. The vehicle in question proved to be that of Polly, now separated from her wastrel husband and living with her son Daniel in a short-term rental flat. Both were quite used to seeing displays of affection between grandmother and uncle. Daniel bounded out of the car keen to be reacquainted with the two. Sonia knew that her grandson enjoyed being at Pinehurst and was only too glad to get away from the flat... but then, that situation would not have to be tolerated much longer...
Polly came forward in turn and embraced her brother.
'Settling in well, I see. Mum's getting plenty of work out of you!' She indicated with a nod the bits of wreckage littering the ground.
The party headed as a group towards the front door which stood ajar.
'Yes, it'll be a relief to go and see some real customers after lunch!' came Graham's wry retort.
'I'm sure I can squeeze just one more small job out of you before you go...' Sonia chuckled, pointing to a bare patch of the front wall adjacent to the entrance. It had been filled until this very morning by an English Tourist Board metal plate with their four star hotel symbol.
'... here's its replacement.'
She held out another, shiny and new plate with a different pronouncement picked out in gold enamel:
"Home Sweet Home"
No comments:
Post a Comment