Charity begins at home. Or does it?
Firstly I must say thank you to
Nikkiejanes
for helping me with the editing of this story.
*
Mum.
Do I really know her, who is she, what goes on in her mind, can a woman have changed so much, or has she always kept her secret needs and desires well hidden?
All thoughts that were going on in my head. A lot of things have changed in our lives recently. Things that we have both enjoyed and long may that continue, but mum has changed in a way that I couldn't and I'm not sure that I wanted to understand. Well up until now anyway.
A while back mum started to volunteer at a charity shop in town, which was owned by her father, my grandad. He also runs a small garage. Both are just down the road from where we live. I had no idea why mum started to volunteer, but it seemed to be making her happy. These days that seems to be something more and more difficult to do.
The charity shop was mainly to raise money for animal welfare, but recently they started trying to help a local family who had been flooded from their home. They had lost absolutely everything. Their insurance company was claiming "Act of God" and so were refusing to pay out.
Bastards.
A lot of money needed to be raised quickly.
So who is Mum?
Mum is Beckie, - just your average mum and housewife. She's forty-one years old, good looking and still has a lovely figure, actually a bloody good figure. I had caught glimpses of her, occasionally, secretly, admiring herself naked in front of a mirror.
Boring in her dress choice, skirts always below her knees, woolly tops that hide the fact that she has lovely tits. Never likes to attract attention to herself when she is out.
She doesn't get treated very well at home, not by dad anyway. I love my mum, she has always been there for me and has kept me on the straight and narrow for the eighteen years since I was born. Dad, on the other hand, treats her like his slave. Well, that's the way it seems to me. She wasn't, isn't, allowed to go out and get a job, so far as dad is concerned, her job is cooking, cleaning and pandering to his every need.
Never going out much other than to do the weekly shop. God forbid that she would go out and buy new clothes on her own, dad has to be with her for that, she can only buy what dad approves of.
As I said, mum started volunteering at the charity shop, at about the same time that they started the campaign for the flood victims. Dad wouldn't let her go there during the day, but so long as his dinner was on the table when he got in, she could go there a couple of evenings during the week and Sunday afternoons. Dad couldn't object to that, also I think he is a bit frightened of granddad.
That was OK. She was just sorting donations to see what was saleable and what wasn't. She was also doing admin, granddad had given her a laptop so that she could do that at home.
Friends were a thing of the past for mum, all the girls she knew before she married, have long gone, dad always claimed that they were a bad influence on her, so she wasn't allowed to see them anymore. I was hoping that she would now make some new friends while working in the shop. Although that did appear to be unlikely. The only other person likely to be there in the evenings was her dad.
So, what makes me think that mum's newfound life would make a story For WRIST
Well, let me take you back a couple of weeks.
********
Oh for fuck sake, not again!
I watched as my laptop screen went blue, another visit to the repairer. Right now I need to get this report finished and in by the morning. This bloody lockdown is going to be the death of me. I hate working from home, I end up working all hours, as my boss thinks he can call or email me any time day or night.
"DAD!" I yelled from my bedroom door.
"What do you want, I'm busy?"
Yeah busy doing nothing
.
"My laptop has blue screened, can I borrow yours? I've got to get this job finished tonight."
"I'm using mine, use your mum's, it's in the bedroom."
"OK, thanks, dad."
Thanks for nothing.
I knew he was watching porn
.
Dad doesn't object to mum going to the shop a couple of evenings a week, but is always in a bad mood when she's not at home, tending to his every need. He has to make his own cup of tea,
poor sod
.
I rushed into their bedroom and found mum's laptop, took it back to my room and switched it on.
Fuck, it's passworded. What the hell am I going to do now?
"Dad! What's mum's password, please?" I shouted, from the top of the stairs.
"How the fuck should I know, I didn't know she had one. Why would she need one?"
That is what I was wondering, after all, she's only got it for shop work.
I had a couple of guesses at possible passwords, but then got the message "You have one try left."
I didn't want to lock mum out, so I thought I'd better ring her. It was Wednesday evening, so mum was down at the shop.
Oh shit! She's got her phone turned off
. There was nothing for it, I would have to go down there, I had to get that report finished.
I ran down the hill and across the park, the shop was in darkness, I went round to the back door, locked. I must have missed her, she must have gone along the road, while I cut across the park.
I decided to go back along the road, by now it was getting a bit dark for a girl to be walking through the park on her own. As I passed by granddads garage, I noticed the lights on and decided to go in and say hello, I don't get to see him often enough and I wasn't now going to get the report finished anyway.
The main entrance was locked so I went round to the back, and went in through the door that opens into the back office, and was about to open the door into the workshop, when I was stopped by voices from inside.
A male voice, "Come on you dirty little slut, let's get you dressed, you'll freeze standing around here naked, you've done well tonight.
Fuckin' hell that's granddads voice!
"Get yourself out to the toilet and get cleaned up first, your make-up is a mess, we can't send you home looking like that.
I heard the clicking of heels on the concrete floor, as whoever this woman was, crossed the workshop. I heard the familiar sound of a thumb latch on a wooden door, as it opened and closed on the far side.
Christ granddad isn't the only in there.
He wasn't alone with whoever the naked woman was.