You might like to read the previous chapters of
Granny's Dirty Photographs
before you continue with this one. Just for continuity.
OK, well ... wow, chapter five! I didn't think the original scene would grow legs as it seems to have done.
Anyway, in this scene Robert's grandfather turns up and appears to be about to usurp Robert in Clara's affections.
Thanks again β as in the preceding scenes β for the feedback and suggestions. I appreciate the comments, etc.
Send feedback telling me if you enjoyed the series so far or not. Criticism is welcome as long as it's constructive. The "you're a sick fucker and your writing sucks," kind of comment doesn't really help much. Feedback can be by PM on Lit, Public Comments at the end of the piece, or email. If you want a reply or response then email is best.
As usual, since I check my own work, there are very likely typos and errors in the text. It's difficult to spot my own mistakes since I might be blind to them. If any fuck-ups do remain then I apologise; I do check over the scenes several times, but as I mentioned I sometimes miss errors. I hope you enjoy the piece all the same.
Right, I'll STFU and let you get to it. Besides, I've got to start on chapter six β I might make it a quick nasty scene with Robert and his grandmother before I get to the birthday party chapter.
GA β Langkawi, Malaysia β 9th of January 2013.
His timing was incredible. I couldn't believe that he'd shown up so soon after my mother had revealed that my grandfather was actually my father. It had been surreal seeing him there, standing in the kitchen with my mother β the daughter he'd shared an incestuous relationship with.
"I've had a bit of a falling out with Jean," he informed us. "It's over; I wondered if I could stay here for a few days?"
His arrival threw everything off balance for me. Not only had I recently started an affair with my own mother, I'd been fucking my grandmother, his ex-wife, for a few weeks as well, and I wondered what impact my grandfather's arrival would have on my sex life. It turned out that he entertained a notion that my grandmother would take him back, the woman he'd left after falling for a sexy colleague, Jean, from the same school he taught in β a ludicrous idea I'd thought at the time, but one that my grandmother, to my surprise, considered.
That first day however my mother agreed to his request to stay for a few nights, but she told him straight that we all needed to sit down and talk, the three of us.
My grandfather took the news remarkably well, apparently in his stride. "You dirty bugger," he grinned at me when my mother told him that she and I were involved sexually. "She's good, isn't she, your mum, she's a lovely ride."
I blushed, embarrassed by the cavalier attitude of the man. He took it as though it was an everyday occurrence, a young man fucking his own mother.
"So is gran," I fired back, bridling at his smug smirk, thinking that me fucking my grandmother would take the wind out of his sails.
But without missing a beat he retorted with, "The mucky old tart. Mind you, still waters run deep and all that. You'd never think to look at her that she's as kinky as they come." His expression turned wistful as her recalled old times. "The things we used to do together. The parties we threw. Everyone fucking everybody else." My grandfather winked at me. "I've seen your gran take on three cocks at once."
Despite the vulgar revelations, I found myself growing hard at the thought of my beautiful grandmother in such a situation.
"I've told Robert who his father is," my mother informed my granddad quietly.
He went silent then, just looking at me with a curious expression on his face.
"Ah," he said. "Right." My grandfather shifted on his chair. He looked at my mother and said, "Could I have a cup of tea please, Clara?" My mother nodded and rose to her feet. She busied herself with the preparations for tea. "How do you feel about that, Robert?" my grandfather asked me.
I looked into the man's face, the man who'd impregnated his own daughter and sired me. I gave a shrug with my shoulders and pulled a face. "I'm used to it now. It took a bit of thinking about, but it doesn't really matter." I glanced at my mother's back as she stood at the kitchen counter and poured boiling water into a tea pot. "I've got my mum."
My grandfather cast a quick look at my mother. He nodded. "Yes," he said slowly. "I suppose you have." He then gave me a direct look, his eyes on my face. "And how did you and Sarah ...?" He gave an airy wave with one hand. "You know, you and your gran β how did you start with her?" He shook his head, adding, "I know she's a dirty bitch, but I never had her down for that little caper. Her and you? No, I didn't think Sarah would go for that at all."
My mother placed the tea pot on the table. She put a jug of milk next to it and then gave me and my granddad a mug each.
"I found some photos of her from a long time ago," I explained. "She caught me with them and it sort of rolled from there."
Despite a disapproving look from my mother, my grandfather lit up a cigarette.
"Well, well," he said. "I used to take quite a lot of pictures of her at one time." He grinned and me and winked. "I've still got some in a box in storage. I'll show them to you if you like."
"Dad," my mother interjected, "what exactly do you want from us?" She filled her cup with tea after pouring milk in first.
"An ashtray for starters," my grandfather replied, holding up his cigarette. "After that ... I thought we'd have a nice cuppa." He cast a look my way. "And then I might go and see Sarah. See if she'd be interested in going back to how it used to be."
Jealousy flared hot in my chest and hardened my stare while my mother rummaged in the back of a cupboard for an ashtray. "Gran?" I blurted. "You think she'll take you back?"
"I hope so, Robert," he replied as he filled his mug with tea. My mother looked at me and reached out a hand. Our fingers clasped. My grandfather's head tilted to one side as he took in our intertwined fingers. "And I did hope that me and you could ..." He gave my mother a meaningful look.
My mother breathed deeply and looked at me. I could see some kind of internal struggle taking place.
"I ... I don't know, dad," she stammered.
My grandfather shrugged as though it was of no consequence and slurped his tea. He smoked in silence for a minute while I tried to gauge my mother's mood.
I knew she loved her father, loved him in the same way I loved her, the same love I felt for my grandmother. I remembered the heart-shaped tattoo on my mother's buttock, the one she'd had done as a symbol for that love she had for her father.
"Maybe I'll leave it a day or two before I go and see Sarah," granddad said. "So," he added cheerfully a moment later. "Can I stay a few nights?"
I saw my mother snatch a glance at me again. She withdrew he fingers from my grip. "You're my father," she said with a tremor in her voice. "Of course you can stay."
I wondered what the sleeping arrangements would be. I wondered what my grandmother would make of her former husband's re-emergence.
***
When I woke up my mother wasn't in bed next to me. I checked the clock β 2am. A greasy slither of jealousy curdled in my guts.
Where was she?