"Holy shit."
Vanessa could think of no other words that more clearly expressed her feelings as she stared up at the huge, crumbling, monstrosity of a manor house before her. She had just inherited the house and grounds from a long-lost relative she had never heard of. Based on the photos and description from the lawyer handling the transfer of deed and title, she and her husband, Michael, had quit their jobs and left their lives in the city to move out to the middle of nowhere to fix it up and turn it into an event venue and bed and breakfast. It was now clear that the photos they had seen were way out of date because the house was practically dilapidated. The tarnished brass plate on the front gate had been barely legible, but they were able to confirm it read "Bloomington House", the name the lawyer had told them, so they were in the right place.
"Fuck, fucker, fuck, fuck!" Vanessa exclaimed, filled with regret. Why had they not driven out here to look at it BEFORE making all their permanent life changes? "It is going to need so much more work than we thought!"
Michael surveyed the place with an unreadable expression. "Yeah, it will. But it's got good bones. With a little extra time and effort, this place will be as fantastic as it ever was, a beautiful event location. People will be flocking from the city to see it! Just you wait!" He turned to her with a huge grin on his face, his dark hair glinting in the sun, his green eyes sparkling. Michael was always so unendingly positive; it annoyed her when she was feeling grumpy and negative, but it was also one of her favourite things about him. It was often utterly infectious, which came in handy when she was ready to throw in the towel on something.
Vanessa tried to resist his charm and positivity this time, pushing a stray lock of her long, dark hair out of her eyes. "But babe, can we even afford the extra work? I mean, we struggled to put together the budget we thought we needed in the first place, but this will be at least double, if not more." She put her head in her hands, as though trying to block it all out. "Oh god, what have we done?"
Michael walked over to his wife and started massaging her shoulders, his voice soothing and calming her newfound anxieties. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but I do think we can do it. We'll just need to think creatively. Maybe we open parts of it before everything is finished, sections or floors at a time or something. We can do this, Van, I'm sure of it."
Her attempts at resistance popped like a bubble. He always knew how to win her over and make her feel at ease, no matter the situation. He was the calm to her chaos, the balm for her worries, the sunshine to her storm. Plus, she trusted him wholeheartedly. If he believed they could do it, then they could. She took a deep breath, trying to inhale his optimism. "Ok. Thank you. Let's go look inside and see what we're dealing with."
As they walked across the broken pavement and weed-strewn courtyard to the door, Vanessa thought about everything they had given up to become DIY-renovators and business owners. Sure, their jobs and condo in the city, where they'd lived an enjoyable life and had a group of good friends. They had been together for a long time - nearly 15 years - and they had just begun to talk about experimenting with their sex life. Vanessa was a full figured woman with a cute face and a great pair of tits, Michael was well built and classically handsome; both were in their mid-30s and, without the responsibility of children in their lives, both were interested in the idea of having some degree of open relationship, and exploring a number of kinks with other people. But, they had only talked about it so far, they had not yet acted on these desires. Then the call from the lawyer about Vanessa's inheritance and everything that followed was such a whirlwind, that they put the idea of sexual exploration on hold. And now they lived in an old, falling-down mansion at the back end of nowhere, so how in the world were they going to explore anything other than the countryside? An open relationship needs other people, and there were no other people around here, Vanessa thought.
The front door had definitely seen better days, and they had some trouble getting it open. Finally, they were able to force it wide enough for them to slip through, the hinges screeching loudly at the violation.
Inside was just as rundown as the outside. After squeezing through the front door, they found themselves in a foyer that likely would have been called grand in its early days, but now was anything but. The staircase leading to the upper floors was large and imposing, with some missing sections of the bannisters and some stairs that looked all but rotted through.
They decided to survey the entire ground floor before attempting to go upstairs, so they took a left out of the foyer into a sitting room of some kind. Everywhere was the same: wallpaper peeled, water stains spread across the ceilings, paint was chipped and cracked, floorboards creaked and looked as though they would be unable to hold a person's weight, and all of the furniture was dusty, faded and full of holes. As they wandered through the many rooms on the main floor, Vanessa tried very hard not to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the job ahead of them.
She wanted to be enthusiastic for Michael, who became even more energized and excited by the project the further into the building they went. He chattered on and on about the multitude of possibilities he could see for each room as they did a full circle of the main floor: through a library full of rotting books, past the kitchen that hadn't been updated since 1892, give or take, and then through a study and another sitting room or two. Eventually, they made it back to the entrance hall with the staircase.
Vanessa fought the urge to squish herself back out the front door and drag Michael with her, leaving forever and pretending none of this had ever happened. But she also knew how much it meant to Michael, who had dreamed of owning land and running his own business for as long as she had known him. They had never thought it possible that they could afford to do it, so having the house and land just fall into their laps through her inheritance felt like a dream come true. She had to give this a go for Michael. They would figure it out, one small step at a time. Plus, he was right, Bloomington House did have good bones and would be amazing once returned to its former glory.
"Alrighty, let's go upstairs!" Michael said with barely contained glee. "Be careful on the steps, though, some look like they need to be replaced."
Vanessa chuckled and followed her husband upstairs; he was like a kid in a candy store! They were almost at the second floor when she thought she saw movement in the foyer below. She turned quickly and her foot caught the edge of the stair, causing her to teeter for a terrifying second, her arms windmilling in her attempt to right herself. Thankfully, the bannister was solidly in place at this part of the stairs and she was able to grab on and regain her balance. Breathing heavily from the near miss, she saw there was nothing downstairs but dust motes in the air, disturbed by their movements. Shrugging and shaking it off, she continued up the stairs to follow her husband through the second floor rooms.
There were 12 bedrooms in total on the second floor, six on each side of the staircase, off hallways that stretched the entire length of the house. Some of the bedrooms had en suite bathrooms that looked like they had been installed soon after indoor plumbing was invented. There was an additional, equally elderly bathroom directly off the hall in each wing. Straight off the landing at the top of the stairs was a large sitting room that seemed to join the two wings. It had huge windows with moldering curtains that overlooked the overgrown back garden, and a circular staircase that climbed to the attic. All second floor rooms were more or less in states of disrepair, similar to their cousins on the ground floor.
Still struggling to be positive about Bloomington House and the work it needed, Vanessa forced a smile on her face as she turned to Michael after completing their second floor tour. "Well! Which room should we claim for ourselves? We can get that one tidied up this evening and then start on a more detailed plan of attack in the morning."
Michael smiled and swung an arm around her shoulders. "Babe, I see what you're doing and I appreciate it. And I promise you, we CAN do this." He kissed her deeply. "How about we take that big one room on the end, I think it looked the least run down of them all? It should be easy to get it to a state we can sleep in. Or not sleep in..." He winked suggestively and nudged her with his elbow, in case there was any confusion as to his meaning.
Vanessa grinned back at him. "We do need to christen the place, don't we?" she asked, giggling and kissing her husband again. "Ok, you go get our stuff, and I'll get started on the room."
Vanessa made her way down the hall to the large bedroom at the end. She could definitely see that it would have once been a beautiful space, with silk floral wallpaper, a large four poster bed and lavish furnishings, and she tried not to think about all the things wrong with it now. She opened the windows as wide as they would go to air out the room, and pulled the dusting cloths out of her bag to get started on the furniture.
