Fifty Shades Shadier – Chapter Three


Worried that I might belt the woman, and confident she’d kick my ass, I excuse myself, and join Bea in the master suite.

“So, how are you two getting along?”
“About as well as Kardashians and skinny jeans. Can I throw spoons at her or at least give her a noogie? Please?”
“Now, darling, it’s important you win her over.”
“Not possible.”
“Find a way.”
“Yes. Grandma is my only hope of emerging from these financial difficulties. She holds the key to the safe, so to speak, and she’s here auditing my businesses to get our affairs back in order.”
“Can I at least drug her?”
“No! You go out there and make nice. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

I put on my fake smile and return to the family room. Grandma is futzing with the TV remote.

“Why won’t this work? Things were much easier in my day; you pulled the button and turned the knob. Two through thirteen, UHF, and VHF.”
“Here, let me try,” I insist as she pulls the remote away from my reach.
“I’m not helpless. If you want to make yourself useful, refill my beverage, blobber.”
Blogger. Another arsenic rocks?”
“What did you say?”
“Another up or on the rocks?”
“Neat, you nitwit.”

As I poured the biddy her drink I noticed the TV picture come into focus.

“There. Finally. Oh, dear Lord!”
“Now what? Isn’t Green Acres on?”
“Buh … wha … is that …?”

I step back from the wet bar to get a gander. I see a sixty-inch high definition picture of myself bound to the bed, wearing Canadiens panties. Fuck! It’s the video from that crazy night. I run to the front of the TV and begin pushing buttons. Finally the power is off. Bea emerges from the bedroom just in time to see me fifty shades of red.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“I know, right? Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing blue and red.”
“What’s going on?” Bea asks.
“That man is a big pervert who wears women’s undergarments.”
“I’m not that big. I’ve been cutting back on carbs, actually,”  I insist while patting my belly.

Grandma storms out the door in a huff, which is fine by me. Bea giggles.

“Why is that on your TV, you naughty Lovergirl?”
“I think Eric was watching it … while masturbating.”
“Kidding. I was watching it. I know you’re not crazy about the ending but the part leading up to it was smokin’ hot, if you ask me.”
“Listen, you need to promise me you’ll use your charm on Grandma. We need her support.”
“If you do this for me, Uncle M, I’ll do this (grabbing my package) for you.”
“We have unfinished business from the elevator, don’t we? My turn.” I lift and set her on the loveseat. I remove her sweatpants. She’s pantiless. How convenient and delicious! “Oh, look: Grandma left her brandy. Can’t let that go to waste.”

I take the crystal tumbler and drizzle brandy into her bellybutton. I lick gently as the brandy river winds its way toward her spot. The coolness of the alcohol teases, as her clit dances around my tongue. I’m drunk on the sweet combination with Lovergirl’s juices. As Bea arches into climax the front door swings open.

“I left in such a hurry I forgot my … oh, for the love of … you’re disgusting–the both of you.”

I slump down and rest my cheek against Bea’s abdomen as Grandma grabs her purse, leaves, and slams the door. Bea runs her fingers through my hair as we giggle.

This won’t be easy.

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About the author

Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.