Taking care of the wife’s mother

I slapped her face a couple of times, but she did not react to me or try to defend herself from the slaps. I threw the drink in the glasses over her dress, and it soaked it, and it clung to her body and showed the outline of her bra underneath it.

“You are a fucking disgrace looking like that,” I shouted at her, “go and fucking change out of those wet things now!”

She ran to her bedroom to change, and I quietly followed her and stood in the doorway as she slipped the dress over her head and I saw her almost fully nude back (she still had her bra on), and she caught a glimpse of me in the half-length mirror in her bedroom. Her arms immediately covered her covered breasts, and I laughed at her as she looked at me with anger and fear mixed together.

“Take your bra off then,” I instructed her, “and dry yourself with a towel.”

She unclipped her bra and tossed it in the washing bin and quickly grabbed a dry towel to discreetly dry her body in front of me, doing her best to cover her private parts.