Before anyone makes a comment about there being no Incest in this story -- remember patience is a virtue, this is only Chapter 1 and none of the players could be classified as virtuous. This is just the beginning, parts two and three are already mostly completed and should follow shortly.
Everyone in this submission is over 18 and a consenting participant.
I hope you enjoy, my aim is to please my readers, and so helpful comments are appreciated. Anonymous trolls who like nothing better than to add unhelpful and vicious remarks will be totally ignored and pitied for their small mindedness.
Chapter One: The Return
So here I was, back in my home town nearly eighteen years since I was thrown out of my parents' house and left to fend for myself in the big wide world. My family was the normal nuclear family consisting of my father, Alec who if I remembered correctly would now be 62, my mother, Julia who would be 57 and my sister Elizabeth who would be 36. I had no idea whether Elizabeth still lived at home with Mum and Dad; it seemed highly unlikely as she was probably married by now with a family of her own. My name is David Robertson, although my fellow Marines had christened me Robbie; I am now nearly 38 years old, almost 6' and weigh 15 stone or thereabouts. I have fair hair and blue eyes which I have been told can look like ice when angry.
I pulled into the hotel car park and, locking the car, strolled into the Reception. The guy behind the desk was happy to find a room for me for two nights and I gratefully signed the register and offered my credit card in prepayment. When the formalities had been completed I went back to my car and grabbed my overnight holdall; I decided to leave it in my room before driving to see my parents. I wasn't sure after all this time whether they would even see me, but I had thought it time I tried to bury the hatchet. None of us was getting any younger and my semi-nomadic lifestyle meant that I had no ties.
I wondered if they would even recognise me after such a long time. I had been just eighteen when they threw me out on my ear; I was now nearly thirty eight and after twelve years in the Royal Marines my physique had changed somewhat for the better. I was tanned from my many trips overseas to hot climates, my hair, once fairly long and black, was now just a military buzz cut that I had decided to keep after handing in my papers and taking up a personal security role that took me all over the world with a lot less danger and a lot more monetary rewards. But it wasn't just my physical appearance that had altered; my whole outlook on life had matured from the angry, scared and lost eighteen year old to the calm assured action-orientated person I had been trained to be. Despite my changed persona I had been considering and putting this day off for several years now; I was still unprepared for the difficult personal confrontation that was almost certainly going to ensue.
It probably seems strange that someone who had done several tours in Afghanistan and dealt with a large number of Somali pirates in and around the Arabian Gulf whilst protecting the shipping should worry about his parents, but my departure had been the result of such a spectacular family row and sheer anger that it left a lasting impression on my mind so that I never really managed to find any lasting or deep relationship with the many girlfriends that I had dated. However, my military training had installed into me that plans once made should be actioned immediately so I jumped into my car and drove the five miles to my parents' home.
I pulled up outside and left my car on the road as I walked up the drive exuding a confident air that I certainly didn't feel. I rang the doorbell and stepped back a pace to allow room without a direct confrontation. As I waited I looked around the front garden noticing that there had been a lot of changes over the years which knowing my mother's keenness for horticulture was not unexpected. I was lost in my own thoughts that I was startled when the door opened and a voice said "May I help you?"
I turned a found myself face to face with a complete stranger. My mother was now almost fifty eight years old, but this was a blonde thirty year old with a voluptuous figure that would give even a corpse an erection. "I'm sorry," I gasped, "I was looking for Mr and Mrs Robertson who used to live here."
"Oh they moved over five years ago I'm afraid." She smiled.
"Damn," I muttered, "You wouldn't know where they moved to by any chance?"
"I'm sorry; they had a postal redirection initially but that was with the Post Office. I do know they stayed here in Bristol, but I have no idea where." She shrugged her shoulders and my eyes were drawn to her bosom as it quivered delightfully under her thin summer dress. "I'm afraid your journey has been in vain."
"Ah well, it can't be helped. My parents and I lost touch a long time ago and I've been moving round the world a lot since then. I'm sorry to have bothered you." I reached my hand out and shook hers. I felt a small squeeze as she took my hand and smiled.
I turned and walked back along the drive to my car. I was stumped; I didn't know what to do. I sat in the car for several minutes trying to think of all the options I could take to find my parents when there was a tap on the driver's window. I turned and found the smiling face of the lady I had just been talking with. I let the window down. "Have you thought about the Electoral Roll in the Council offices? You should find them there as long as your parents haven't moved out of the area."
"Thank you, that's a brilliant idea. I hadn't got round to considering that." I mentally kicked myself; I should have thought of that myself.
"I could see you were looking rather lost. I wondered if you would like a cup of tea before continuing your search." She gave me another smile as she leaned in the open window, giving me a rather pleasant view straight down the open neck of her dress. "I feel a bit responsible; not knowing where your parents moved to."
"That's most kind." I opened the car door as she moved back a pace and I slid out and followed her back along the drive and into the house. I closed the door behind me and she walked into the lounge. I followed with my eyes glued to the sway of her hips and her beautifully firm calves highlighted by the white high heeled sandals she was wearing.
"Take a seat and I'll put the kettle on." She headed out. "Make yourself comfortable, it won't take a minute."
"No problem, I'm at a bit of a loose end 'til I can check the Electoral Roll as you suggested." I laughed. I examined the room as I waited, fascinated by the geometrical patterns that dominated the layout and decorated the walls. A complete change from my last memories of the house.
She walked back in a few minutes later carrying a tray with a teapot, milk jug and two cups and saucers. "You should have let me help." I protested as she bent and placed the tray on a small coffee table. Her action allowed her dress hem to ride up her legs and expose her thighs and the pleasurable fact that she was not wearing panties. I felt my groin reacting and I hurriedly crossed my legs to conceal the evidence of my arousal.
"I hope you don't take sugar," she laughed, "I don't take it myself and forgot to bring any on the tray."
"No, just milk is fine." I confirmed. "I haven't taken sugar in my tea or coffee for almost twenty years now." I watched as she poured two cups of tea and added the milk before sitting opposite me in one of the large armchairs. "I'd better introduce myself." I laughed. "I'm David Robertson, but everybody calls me Robbie."
"Pleased to meet you Robbie," Her voice had become a little husky, "I'm Sally-Anne Mitchell."
