A Dirty Secret

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My Granddad died in January last year. Since then the family, organised by my mother, had rallied around my Grandmother.

My mother is a bossy, take charge type and, if I was being cynical, I would say she lived for things like this. Arranging schedules, allocating tasks. She was in her element.

As a result, I was going to Gran’s house at least once a fortnight, as opposed to birthdays and Christmas. My designated task was doing the odd jobs that Granddad used to do.

Gran seemed cool with me, which helped, as I doubt she was consulted much in the matter. Gran is in her mid sixties and quite sprightly, if a little plump. She is fiercely independent and has always been a strong type, so after the initial shock of Granddads passing she allowed my mother to run things for her, but I doubted she would put up with the interference for too much longer.

My mother went to visit more often than me. At least every other day. That’s how she came to ask me to spy on her.

Of course, she didn’t couch it in those terms exactly.

One Sunday I found myself in the kitchen, alone with my mother, doing the washing up. We had been talking, just general chit chat, but knowing her better than she thought I did, I knew she was building up to something.

“Have you noticed a change in your Gran?” she tried to ask nonchalantly.

“Not really.” I replied.

It was true. It also took me by surprise, as I was expecting the usual grilling about whether I was seeing a girl or not. The answer to that was no, not since I split with Sofia three months ago. I was delighted that we weren’t talking about me for once.

“Well, I have.” mum said, snapping me back from staring lazily at the garden, from the kitchen window.

“That’s to be expected. Granddad dying was a bit sudden, she’s probably still coming to terms with it.”

My mother shook her head. Clearly dismissing my, I thought, quite rational response.

“No Kenny, that’s not it…her attitude has changed.”

“As I said…” I began to reply before being cut off by her dismissive tone.

“Its more than that. Don’t forget I’ve been seeing more of her than you. I’ve seen her go through the grieving stage and the angry stage. Those I can understand. This is different.”

“In what way?” I asked.

Mum chewed on her lip. Trying to put whatever she was feeling into words I could understand.

“She’s become… I don’t know how to explain it. Just different and secretive. Does that make any sense?” she looked at me, pleadingly.

“What’s given you this idea?” I asked. Suddenly, I felt like a psychiatrist.

“Little things. Nothing concrete.”

“Go on.” I prompted.

“Well, whenever I’m there I feel like I’m in the way. I always feel like she can’t wait for me to leave.”

Probably sick of you nosing into her business, I thought. I kept this to myself. She’s my mum and I love her, but she’s nosy as fuck.

“Anything else?” I prompted.

“She’s has a laptop and mobile and some new clothes.” mum added.

She could tell by my expression, that I wasn’t convinced. Indeed, I wasn’t.

“Maybe she’s found a new man.” I said, flippantly.

That was another thought I should have kept to myself. I instantly regretted voicing it, I saw the look on my mums face. She looked distressed. The thought had obviously occurred to her already.

“I’m sure it’s not like that.” I said quickly, trying to rectify my mistake.

“What does dad think?” I asked, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from my faux pas.

“I haven’t told him. He would just say I was being daft and that it’s none of our business anyway.” mum said.

I nodded. As far as I was concerned, dad was right about this one. Mum however, was not to be deterred.

“I just know something isn’t right. When I message her, she takes ages to get back. She tells me she’s been busy but wont say doing what.”

Again, I thought to myself that was probably because she was sick of her daughter trying to run her life and manage everything she was up to, Gran can be mischievous, so I wouldn’t put it past her to be mysterious just to annoy her.

I could see this what eating her up, so I caved in, as I usually do where mum is concerned. I knew sooner or later she would badger me into doing her bidding, so it was better to get it over with as soon as possible.

“So, what do you want to do about it?” I asked hoping she had some sort of plan of action.

“Just pay attention when you’re round there next. See if I’m right.”

I agreed, but was at a loss to see what we could about it. She probably did have a new fella. Mum might not be happy that Gran had found someone else so quickly, but it was her life. She was what, sixty five? She still had plenty of her life ahead of her and she probably didn’t want to spend it alone.

I loved my Granddad, but even at the tender age of twenty, I could appreciate that life for my Gran carries on.

Gran is a bottled blonde. She has gained a few pounds making her a bit chunky casino siteleri in the bum and tum department but she looks good for her age She has a lot going for her. She’s full of energy and lovely and has her own property. Why wouldn’t someone want to get together with her? She would make someone a good catch.

With all this in mind I felt quite bad knocking on her door the following Saturday morning. I didn’t really want to conduct some sort of covert surveillance. However, as she opened the door I could see what Mum had meant though. Her hair was still in the same short style but had been trimmed, and not by one of her friends, but professionally. She was wearing a dress that was obviously new.

It was lime green and quite fetching, if a little tight. Something a younger woman would wear.

She invited me in and within moments, I was in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and a list of chores in the other. I scanned it at my leisure. Nothing heavy, just cutting the grass on the back lawn, a bit of tidying up at the borders and putting a few boxes into the loft.

“Thanks for doing this Kenny.” Gran said softly

“I’ve never been good at using the lawn mower and the boxes are a few of your Granddads things I cant part with.”

She said this with such a tint of sadness, that I was sure I was wrong about her having another fella.

“If you don’t mind doing the grass first, its just I have a few things in the house that need doing. Once I’ve done those you’ll be able to get into the loft.”

It was said casually, but just like Mum had said, I got the impression I was in the way.

“No problem, Gran.” I said.

I finished my coffee, took the shed key so I could get the lawnmower and tools and I left her to whatever it was that was so pressing.

Although it wasn’t an especially warm day it was hard and draining work. I decided that once I’d got half way I’d take a long break.

The garden isn’t particularly large but it always takes me ages to cut it and do the edges round the borders and the trees. In the past I’ve done the mowing all in one go and suffered from sore muscles the next day.

I was hard at it for about half an hour, when I could feel myself beginning to ache. I stopped, stood upright, closed my eyes and stretched. As my hunched back went straight I felt several satisfying pops in my spine.

As I opened my eyes, they settled on the house, and I saw Gran looking at me from the first floor bedroom window, phone in hand. She was talking animatedly and, I have to say, she was looking a little sheepish.

The guilty look on her face was all I could think about as I finished up with the mower. I decided to grab a drink from the kitchen during my break.

For reasons I wasn’t sure of yet, I entered the kitchen quietly. I poured a glass of water and downed it.

I was unsure of my actions as I made my way to the bottom of the stairs. I could hear that Gran was still on he phone. Her voice was muffled though, as she was still in her bedroom.

It was at this point that I was overtaken with purpose.The sooner I could find out what Gran was up to, the sooner mum would be off my back. I walked quickly up the stairs judging i would make far less noise than if I had tried to creep my way up there.

As I stood on the landing her voice had stopped. Had she heard? Did it matter? If she came out I would say I needed the toilet. Nothing wrong with that, as far as I was concerned. Besides, in this case, it was Gran who was behaving suspiciously, not me.

The door was slightly ajar, only by about an inch. The silence was broken by the phone ringing. She had finished her call and was about to take another. I have to say I was confused by this flurry of activity.

“Hello.” I heard my Gran say in a tone I had never previously witnessed. It was low, husky, seductive.

“This is Bunty.” she continued, in the same breathy voice.

The phrase “No it bloody well isn’t.” was rattling around in my brain. My Gran is called Sally. I remained rooted to the spot on the landing as the conversation continued.

“I’m in my mid sixties. Tall and thin with long blonde hair that flows down my back.” Gran said.

There was a pause.

“I’ve been waiting here for you.” she continued “I’m so horny, that I’ve stripped down to my stockings and suspenders and nothing else baby.”

I felt my stomach lurch. I was listening to my Gran have phone sex. Obviously I couldn’t hear what her partner on the other end of the line was saying but I could get the gist from her replies.

“Oh, I am so wet baby. Laying here stroking my pussy. Thinking about your hard cock.”

I had heard Gran swear only once and that was “shit” and she was so embarrassed about it. She had subsequently lectured me for five minutes about not using bad language.

I stood so still. I couldn’t have moved if i’d wanted or need to. i was shell-shocked.

“What sort of pussy do you like Terry?” she asked.

Responding to this Terry’s reply by saying.

“Well, canlı casino I’ve shaved it especially for you, I’m nice and smooth down there ready for your tongue.”

Terry was obviously doing his bit down the other end, as Gran was silent for a few moments. Before jolting me with her reply.

“No baby, I’m all home alone, my husband is down the pub with his mates. He won’t be back for hours, and I really need a hard cock in my cunt.”

I was confused momentarily by her lies, then…oh you idiot!

She isn’t speaking to a boyfriend. It’s a sex line. She works on a sex line. That explains the phone, the laptop, the extra money. From what I was hearing she was very good at it, because against all that was natural, I felt myself getting turned on.

“Oh that’s it Terry. Lick my clit hard. Make me cum…oh God!!” Gran let out a guttural growl, which was the sexiest thing I had ever heard.

“Do you want me to suck your cock Terry?…Terry?”

Terry had obviously shot his load and ended the call. I took that as my cue to steal away back to the kitchen. I was at the kitchen table with another glass of water, collecting my thoughts as Gran came down the stairs about a five minutes later.

I was glad that there had been a delay in her appearance, it gave me time to let my erection subside.

She was fully dressed. Obviously the stockings and suspenders had been alluded to purely for her callers benefit.

“You OK, Ken?” Gran asked.

Was she feeling guilty, doing that with me in the house? Was my demeanor giving me away? I surprised myself by being able to look her in the eye as I replied, as I was far from OK.

“Just a little tired Gran. The grass is all cut.”

She smiled sweetly. if she did have any suspicions I had alleviated them.

“I’ll make lunch then. You can finish up later.”

“That’s sounds good.” I said, acutely aware of my cock in my pants. It was flaccid but oozing precum.

After lunch as I finished off some little bits in the garden. I ran everything over and over in my head. I was conflicted. What Gran did was her own affair. I didn’t care, in fact I was disturbed to realize how much I had enjoyed it.

How would I square it with Mum. What would I tell her? I needed to think about this carefully.

Mum is so tightly wound up, there would be no way she would understand, let alone approve. I also knew she’s like a terminator. She will absolutely not stop, ever. I found myself liking my Gran even more, and my mum a little less. I decided i would do all I could to assist Gran in getting mum off her back.

It was whilst putting the boxes in the loft that I formulated a plan of action. First I checked with Gran if she had any further jobs for me. She didn’t.

“Before I go Gran, can I borrow your laptop? I need to order something and mines in for repair.”

I could see she was a little unsure, but she relented. The plan would go for nothing if she loomed over my shoulder.

I let her log me on and I was awash with her perfume as she stood close, watching intently as I went onto Amazon. There is nothing wrong with my laptop, but I knew mum would cover for me, if asked. Especially when I’d tell her I was checking Grans computer for suspicious activity.

When she realized that it looked a bit strange leaning over me she went and sat down. As soon as she did, I opened a new window in Google. Her gmail account was logged in so I opened it quickly. I scanned through her received and sent mail and her trash as rapidly as I could.

Anything that looked interesting I forward to my own gmail account. I made sure I deleted them from her sent mail as well. Once I had my tracks fully covered I gave the laptop back to Gran.

When I got home later in the day Mum was waiting eagerly for news.

“You’re right Mum.” I said “She does seem to have reinvented herself, but I don’t think its anything to worry about.”

“How can you be sure?” Mum asked unconvinced.

“I read her emails.” I said.

“You did what?” Mum seemed appalled. Apparently spying was fine but reading emails was verboten.

“I borrowed her laptop. I said mine was broken.. That’s a heads up, in case she asks.” I told her.

“What did you find?” she said. Her disgust seeming to have abated as quickly as it started.

“Nothing.” I lied.

“And, whilst I was there she was on the phone to a woman from the village. I think shes going to be volunteering at a charity shop in the high street. Looks like she’s trying to get out and about a bit, you know, resume her old life. That’s probably the reason for her sudden change.”

Mum thought about what I said. I’m not sure she believed me. It was a weak excuse but it was all I had come up with. It was true, before Granddads passing, she used to help the local charities a fair bit, so that wasn’t out of character. Of course, it didn’t explain her sudden change of style.

“I’m not so sure. I still think something’s up.” Mum said. She clearly wasn’t going to let it lie, but she kaçak casino said no more about it, that day.

I waited until the evening before logging onto my laptop and onto my gmail account. I systematically worked my way through the emails, only about half a dozen turned out to be of interest.

I had hit the jackpot though. There were several correspondences between my Gran and a company that dealt with telephonic services. From there it was a short order to find their website. They catered for all types of clientele who wanted phone sex. Bondage, teens, gay, bi and mature.

As I clicked onto their mature page I found thirty or so thumbnail photos, with a brief description of their measurements and likes. I was savvy enough to know that the pics would not relate to the woman. I wasn’t likely to see a picture of Gran, unless she had taken up nude modelling too. I found a bio for Bunty. There was a pic of a blonde with long flowing hair. For an allegedly 60 plus woman she was fine looking. Gran wasn’t bad but nowhere in this woman’s class.

Still, for a pound a minute you were buying the fantasy. The few words below the pic gave her number and a paragraph describing her.

“65 year old, married lady. Loves extra-curricular as her husband can’t satisfy her. Loves young fit and firm men. No holes barred.”

For once in my life I showed restraint. I didn’t call the number immediately. i had a pay as you go phone and I needed to build up some credit. If i was going to pursue this, it was gonna rack up my phone bill. And, my God, I was going to pursue this.

It was frustrating for the first few weeks. Whenever I called it took me to a switchboard service that played a message from whoever was taking calls that day. I didn’t recognize Grans voice or hear a message from “Bunty”

During these weeks Mum was still on at me about Gran, I had been round a couple of times, but was on my best behavior, and played the dutiful grandson. Each time I came back, I repeated my contention that nothing was going on. And each time I was getting more and more frustrated that I couldn’t speak to Gran about her secret. Either in person, or on the phone.

I was trying to work out the best times to try to speak to my Gran on her sex line. It was becoming my obsession. The fact that it was completely perverted made it even more necessary as far as I was concerned.

I was beginning to feel that I would never get her. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach each time I dialed the premium rate number and cycled through the women on offer. I was quick as I was aware that I was wasting money, especially as I was not making contact. At no time was I tempted by any of the other voices. It was Gran or no one.

Then, one Saturday I heard Grans voice. She was calling herself Bunty and repeating the bio from the website. I pressed the number to speak to her as instructed.

I could feel myself getting really scared. My hand was shaking and my stomach was churning, but I could not terminate the call. It was getting worse as the number rang.

“Well, hello there.”

I had spoken to Gran so many times on the phone, but this was petrifying. I had already decided that i wouldn’t do an accent or anything like that to disguise my voice. I would just talk in a low whisper.

“Hello.” I eventually managed to croak.

“OOH, you sound a shy boy… shy but fit i hope?”

All i could imagine was Gran, staring out of the window onto the garden and thinking about the money she was making.

“Yes.” I croaked. I was so scared I doubted she would recognize me, even if i confessed who I was.

“What’s your name love?” Gran/Bunty asked.

“Mike.” I said, feeling guilty for using my best friends name.

“Not very talkative are you love? Never mind I’ll get you coming out of your shell.” There was extra emphasis on the word coming.

“I’ll begin by telling you a bit about myself shall I?”

“Oh yes.” I said, suddenly finding my voice. “Describe yourself and tell me what you’re wearing.”

I needn’t have worried about Gran twigging it was me. I was almost irrelevant. It was just assumed that the man on the end of the line was tugging his cock and needed to be cajoled into staying on the line as long as possible.

The women probably had a pattern that they went through, only deviating when asked for a specific request.

“Well, my name is Bunty. I’m 65 years old. I’m five feet five with long grey/blonde hair that goes down my back. I have large breasts and a big bum. I’m married but my husband isn’t pushing my buttons anymore. I’m in my bedroom, lying on my bed completely naked. Waiting for a young stud to give me what I need.”

I wondered how many times Gran had gone through this intro. Did she have it memorized or did she read it off a little crib card?

I found, as she went on, that I was wondering less and less about the mechanics of it all and getting caught up in the fantasy. I had made sure I was alone in the house and I was doubly glad now as I was laying on my bed stripping off. My cock was a decent seven inches and was rock hard. I was horny beyond belief and it was my Gran causing it.

I put her on speakerphone so that both hands were free for me to explore myself. Which I was now doing frantically.

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