Granny's Dirty Photographs

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 – as in the preceding scenes – 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 – I might make it a quick nasty scene with Robert and his grandmother before I get to the birthday party chapter.

GA – Langkawi, Malaysia – 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 – 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 – 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 – 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 – 2am. A greasy slither of jealousy curdled in my guts.

Where was she?

What was she doing?

Was she with him?

Were they fucking?

I flung the cover back and got out of bed. When I went out onto the landing I eyed the door to my bedroom – my old bedroom. I now shared my mother's bed and that room had been offered up to my grandfather for the duration of his visit.

In my mind I saw my mother riding her father in my old bed. I could see her face, mouth open as she bounced up and down on his cock, tits swaying and jiggling. During that scene I could almost hear the slap-slap-slap of her buttocks against the old man's thighs. My mother gasped and groaned when my grandfather's hands came up to grab her swinging tits, his fingers mauling at her.

"Daddy, I'm coming," my mother grunted.

"Me too, baby," the man groaned in reply. "Keep pumping your arse up and down. Milk my cock with your lovely tight cunt."

Then I jerked back to reality when I heard the rumble of voices downstairs.

I crept along the landing and down the stairs. Quietly I stole along the hall to the kitchen door.

"It's awkward, dad," I heard my mother say.

"What's so awkward about it?" the man replied.

"I love you ..." my mother responded.

The words sliced my heart.

"... But we can't carry on like we used to. I love Robert. And he loves me. We're good together. I ... enjoy him."

I loved my mother for her fidelity. I guessed that the old man had been trying to convince her to fuck him, but my mother seemed to be resisting his advances.

"Because he's young and can go all night?" my grandfather said with a coarse chuckle. "Is that it, Clara? Does he fuck like a stallion?"

"Dad, please, do you have to be so vulgar?"

"Sorry," my grandfather responded. "I know I'm crude sometimes, but it cuts me up to think of my lovely girl with somebody else."

"Oh," my mother scoffed, "you run off with Jean, betraying me and my mother in the process, and that's all right, is it?

You're

allowed to sleep with somebody else, love somebody else, but my mother and I aren't meant to? We're supposed to wait for you? Fuck off, dad."

"Don't be like that, Clara," granddad muttered.

I heard the scrape of a chair against the floor. "Dad, please," my mother said. "I told you, things have changed. I can't sleep with you anymore." My grandfather mumbled something indistinct, something I couldn't quite make out. To hear better I pressed closer against the door, pushing it further open as I held my breath. My mother spoke again, this time with a gasp. "Oh, God," I heard her murmur.

"This is what you need, Clara," my grandfather said just as I stuck my head around the door.

My mother was staring at her father as he sat on one of the chairs. The old man had his cock exposed, a long, thick trunk of a thing that he slowly caressed, his eyes locked on my mother's face.

"Come on, Clara," he crooned. "Come to daddy. Touch this big fucker. You know you want to suck it." His voice grew low and dark, his fist still stroking. "Sit in my lap. Let daddy's cock make you feel good."

Despite my jealousy I found I was enraptured by the scene. Part of me wanted to burst in and slam a fist into the lecherous cunt's face, but another part of me wanted to see my mother do the things my grandfather murmured to her.

My mother wore a two-piece pyjama set, a button-fronted shirt affair on top, matched with a pair of long-legged bottoms.

"You bastard," my mother sighed. I could see her nipples poking against the cotton of her pyjama top. "You know I love watching you do that."

"Touch yourself, Clara," my grandfather sighed. "Pull those bottoms down. Let me look at your lovely twat."

My mother hesitated and then eased the waistband of her pyjamas over her hips. "I despise you for this," she murmured. "Please, dad, please stop." Regardless of her protests my mother still posed for my grandfather, flaunting her vulva him.

"You fucking love it," the old man replied. "You might have a thing going on with Robert, but you were mine first." He waggled his heavy length in his fist. "This is the first cock you ever knew, Clara. Now, come to daddy and wank his dick. Put your hand around me and stroke me before I fuck you over the kitchen table."

"Oh, dad," my mother groaned. She squeezed her breasts with both hands as her pyjama bottoms slid down her legs so she was bare from the waist down. "You're just such a bad bastard. I don't want to do this."

"Yes you do," the man insisted quietly. "You want to suck my dick and ride it until you come. You always did, Clara. You were always horny for daddy's cock."

"But what about Robert?" my mother mewled. Her hand moved between her legs. "I love Robert too. What can I say to him?"

"You could ask him," my grandfather replied. "He's at the door watching."

My mother spun around to face me, quickly jerking her hand away from her body. "Robert!" she cried.

"Come on in, son," my grandfather said. He made no attempt to hide himself. He just kept on stroking his cock as he watched me move slowly into the kitchen.

My mother looked from me to her father, her expression desperate and confused. "Robert, I ... We ..."

"Take your mother to bed, Robert," my grandfather murmured. He sighed and let go of his cock. The thing hung out of the flies of his pyjama bottoms, thick and brutal.

"I'm sorry, Robert," my mother whimpered. "You don't know what he's like."

"Go to bed, Clara," my grandfather said brusquely. "Let the lad give you the good news." The old man gave a jerk of his head indicating the floor above. "Take her upstairs, Robert. Go on."

"Come on, mum," I said to my mother, my truculent stare locked on the old man's. I walked over to her and took her hand.

My mother's bottom lip trembled as she blinked at me. She took my hand and, leaving her pyjama bottoms in a heap of the floor, followed me out of the kitchen.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, I unbuttoned my mother's pyjama top and, after taking off my bath robe, slid naked into bed next to her.

"I'm sorry, Robert," my mother sniffed as I held her close to me under the covers. "He's just such a persuasive man. There's something almost hypnotic about him. It isn't just me; he can talk just about any woman out of her underwear."

"It's OK, mum," I murmured before I kissed my mother's forehead. "I understand it must be difficult for you. I get that it's complicated." I pressed my lips to my mother's. She moaned and embraced me tight, pulling me to her as we lay face-to-face, both of us on our sides.

"It is, darling," my mother breathed.

"Did you want to ... to do all those things he said?"

My mother nodded, eyes closed, her brow furrowed as though in pain.

Something dark slithered in my guts. I recognised the gnawing hunger of lust, a visceral yearning that had no definable centre, a dull sexual ache somewhere near my balls but also in the length of my penis.

"Why don't you just do it, mum?" I asked, my voice almost unrecognisable to my own ears it was so hoarse, so full of depravity. "Go to him now. Go and fuck him."

I heard my mother gasp. She sat up, breasts jiggling, visible in the dull light from the landing through the partially open door. "Do you mean it?" She asked.

The hope was there in her voice.

I nodded. "Yes, mum, go to your father. Touch his cock and let him do the things he wants to do."

As I said the words and imagined the prospect of my mother taking her father's big dick into her body, when I saw her expression in my head as he fed his length into her, my own cock uncurled and stiffened.

My mother threw back the cover and, naked, rose from the bed. She looked at me as I lay there, my penis hard.

"Thank you," she sighed. "I'll come back to you. I love you."

Then, with a quick smack of her lips against mine she padded barefoot from the bedroom.

I couldn't stand it. The thought of her with him ripped me apart emotionally.

"Mum," I said to the empty doorway.

Climbing out of bed I went quickly along the landing to my old bedroom. The door was closed but I just opened it without any preamble.

My mother looked at me from where she sat on the edge of my old bed. Her fist cranked at her father's erection. I saw her tits swaying as her forearm jerked, the old man's cock enormous in her hand.

"Mum," I blurted as the sight confronted me.

"Come in, Robert," my grandfather said with a wicked smile. He lay on his back while my mother continued to tug the length of him. "You can watch if you like. Sit down and watch your beautiful mother wanking my cock." He winked at me, adding, "Do you want to see her sucking it? Or how about I get her to kneel on the bed and fuck her from behind? Would you like to see me fucking my daughter like that?"

"Dad, no," my mother gasped. "Stop it, please."

Heedless to my mother's plea, the old man just stared at me. "Why don't you join in, son? Sit next to her so she can wank your cock too. Then we'll both fuck the arse off her." He turned his hot gaze to his daughter. "That feels good, Clara," he groaned. "Kiss me. Kiss your father, girl."

My mother glanced at me. I could see she was torn, but nevertheless, as unwilling as she might be to allow me to witness her corruption, she still opened her mouth for her own father's tongue.

Conflicting emotions surged through me. I wanted to run, to leave them to it. Fuck them both, if that's what she wanted then she could get on with it; I didn't want to see any more.

But the longer I watched the more aroused I became.

I heard the slippery, juicy sounds of my mother kissing her father. Her tongue slid over his, both of them moaning softly. Her hand worked at him while he reached up one hand and caressed my mother's breasts one at a time.

"Come on, Robert," my grandfather coaxed gently. "Sit down. Let her play with your dick. It looks like your cock wants her to. Look at him, Clara. See how hard he is. Come on, Robert," he repeated. "Come here. Kiss your mother."

I was there before I realised I'd moved. My mother's fingers closed around my cock and we kissed.

"Both of my men," mum sighed. "Oh God, what do you do to me that makes me do these things?" she asked her father. "I can't believe I've got both of you like this. Together. Oh, dad, it's just so wrong."

The old man chuckled. "That's what makes it so fucking dirty."

My mother jacked her fist up and down the length of me while I sat next to her on the edge of the bed. She did the same to her father with her other hand, both of us gasping as my mother let out these small moans.

"Suck him, Clara," my grandfather grunted. "Stand up, Robert. Face the bed. Clara, get on your hands and knees and suck your boy's cock."

"I can't be doing this," mum, muttered, even as she swung her legs onto the bed. She knelt on all fours, her arse presented to her father.

"You are, Clara," Granddad replied. The old man positioned himself behind my mother's upraised backside. I looked at him, over sixty years old and his iron-grey hair seemed silver in the light of the table lamp. He still looked fit, a bit podgy around the middle but with a broad chest and thick arms that belied his career as a teacher. He stroked his dick and crouched low behind my mother. "Suck him, baby," the old man sighed. "Lick his dick. Let me see you do it."

My mother's eyes shone up at me as her head ducked down and she took the length of me in her fist.

"Mum," I moaned. "I love you."

"I love you, too, my lovely big boy," she replied just before her mouth closed around me.

I hissed and pushed my fingers into my mother's hair. My grandfather let out a chuckle and then splayed his daughter's buttocks with both hands.

"Look at that cunt all wet and pouting. Ooh, Clara," he said, "I think you're all hot for us both. Are you, baby? Are you all wet and sticky for your father and your son?"

"He's your son, too," my mother groaned as she fisted the root of me. "We made him, you dirty old bastard."

"I'm going to let our son watch me fuck you," the man replied. "Just as soon as I've licked your tight little bum-hole." The old perv smirked at me and winked. "You should see your mum like this, Robert. Her cunt's dripping. She's gagging for cock." He shrugged, adding, "Mind you, once I broke her in she couldn't get enough of my dick. A right mucky bitch is our Clara." He looked to where his fingers had my mother all exposed. "Look at that tight little arsehole," he muttered to himself. "Here I come, Clara. Get ready for my tongue in your muddy hole."