Sheela: Visitor of Mischief

"oh.... mackin' someone...uh....that's when you're, like, tryin to...kinda...."

".......seduce someone?" Sheela said, imperceptibly leaning closer to him, her voice an incredibly sensuous near-whisper.

"Yeah, sure"

"Seduction, Ray, is the most beautiful game a woman can play on a man. You can use your skills to charm this sweetie of yours, Ray, but when a woman is able to intoxicate the vision of a man, when a woman can cast her spell on him, Ray, and make him do whatever she wishes, then, and only then, Ray, is the seduction truly complete. The art of seduction, Ray, is the most electrifying, cathartic thing that can happen between a man and a woman. The eventual sex is anti-climactic, there is no intrigue. The seduction, though.....the way a woman catches a man's attention, the way she can....sow the seeds of passion in him, and make him boil over with lust that makes him go blind, Ray, to everything, except the woman to whom he is beholden.......THAT, my fine young man, is the kind of seduction I am talking about. Do you understand what I mean?"

Sheela's lightness of voice and accent bamboozled Ray enough to allow her to be so forward. With a racing heart -- his whole body beginning to feel like one, big, throbbing palpitation -- he concentrated on getting his breathing even so that he'd sound cool and steady for talking. And those curves -- Ray did everything he could not to ogle a body as fine as any he had personally seen. Those giant, firm tits -- all Ray had to do was just bring his hands up, and then forward twelve inches, and BOOM! he'd be squeezing his way to heaven. His mind was reeling with thoughts about if Sheela's breasts were real, what exactly he'd tell his friends about this hot new boarder, how bangable might she be, how easy her wickedly sexy eyes were to look into.

"Hello?"

"oh, uh, I...uh."

"I was asking you, sweetie, if you grasp the idea of how beautiful it is fall to love with a woman who can make you WANT to do almost anything for her, anything, Ray, so that you may eventually end up in her arms.......anything, Ray, for her, to please her, in hopes that she may welcome you again into her sweet embrace, her sweet lips...her legs, Ray, wrapped sooooooo tight around you, my sweet thing, and the PROMISE of such things, Ray, that COMES with the seduction."

"Ray!" said Grant, in the same, startled way Debbie had, coming out of the bedroom, and tugging up his pants a little. Ray was doubly glad, now, that he was wearing his tight briefs instead of boxers (because of practice), the tensile strength of the former providing sufficient restraint to keep his completely helpless admiration for Sheela (somewhat) in check under (thankfully) loose-fitting shorts.

"Whew!" said Grant, waving an arm, approaching them, "shouldn't you be taking a shower?"

"And shouldn't you've picked me up at four?"

With a hot flush of blood surging through him, Grant remembered that he was supposed to pick up Ray after practice. He knew his ears and face were on fire, and realized that he must have been sitting on that john for....30? 45? 60? minutes. He didn't want to speculate much further on that, and feebly offered to Ray that he was held up with some colleagues, his face getting even hotter over the prospect of a beaming Sheela burning a hole through him. For an awkward moment nobody said anything.

"But you DO smell something awful", said Grant, and turning to Sheela, added, "and I'm sure our lady guest here would concur."

"She'd probably also 'concur' that you were BUTTIN IN on a nice little conversation we were having here -- noone's hurtin' noone, we were just mindin' our own business, it's all cool, you know."

Sheela perked right up, shifting her stance with enough vigour to make her tits shake, and punctuated Ray's rejoinder with a soft, mischievous gasp -- further puffing out her huge, dome-nippled cantaloupes at them in the process (temporarily flooring them) -- and showily put those long-fingernailed hands up to her open, sweet, kissable mouth, and then looked expectantly at Grant, goading him with the most infinitesimal shift in the balls of her feet to set off another subtle yet cataclysmic mammarian tectonic shift, right within their groping range.

"Noone's saying you were hurting anyone or not minding your business or whatever. I was just saying th-"

"-I like sometimes the sweat of a man. As long as he is not TOO rank," said Sheela, and then turning from Grant to Ray, "It can be almost a sexual turn-on, in a much more.....animalistic....way."

"yeah, yeah yeah whatever, obviously I'm-"

"-whatever YOURSELF, dad, like, she was like....saying something, and you had to go and......."

".........yes? What!"

Sheela, placing her fanned hand on her upper chest as if to acknowledge Ray's valour, suggested, "I think what this knight in shining white armor is trying to get across is, basically -- he has a desire to hear what I have to say to the fullest extent possible. Even if that means shutting everything else out, completely, so that the desire GROWS to listen to my voice, and to my voice only. It's like this concentration exercise that I've done on my past boyfriends......they loved it.....they couldn't get enough of it after a while -- the CONCENTRATING, I MEAN! -- they just......got so.......addicted? Yes, that's definitely it -- addicted. Maybe if you two fine gentlemen stay in my good books long enough I just might allow the both of you the pleasure of experiencing how stimulating and exciting it is to just.....give in......to UNBURDEN yourselves with my concentration exercise! You will love it!"

"Yeah -- that sounds hella fine! To me, anyway."

"Regardless -- you really COULD use that shower I was just talking about, hm.?"

"Maybe when I'm good and ready and finished talking to her, how 'bout?"

The Indian cocktease murmured the world's quietest "mmmm!", flicked her hair back, and then ran her hands through it, her raised arms, in sideways "V" formations, allowing her mesmerizing 40 DD's to so easily become their focus, so compelling, so.....near., to reclaim their attention again. Arching that truncated back of hers certainly didn't detract from matters, and only made Grant pine -- no, lust madly -- for a profile view of that pose instead, like the "Polaroid Moment" after her distracting the cyclist, instead of the full, straight-on view of Sheela, which made Grant reconsider, actually, the quite enticing impact of such big, firm knockers, seemingly barely attached to her -- her short waist was that incredibly thin -- and so near to him, poking him in the eye. The thread-like waist of the mud wasp that stung Ray last summer reminded him of the narrow, short -- TINY -- isthmus that linked Sheela's tits and ass.

The father and son were temporarily flummoxed by the direction the conversation had taken, realising that they never had a confrontation like this before, but also realising that an underlying power struggle -- brewing mildly over the past year or so -- might be finally coming to a head, fueled by Sheela's extremely subtle, yet incredibly tantalizing, cajolings.

"Look, Ray -- I'm not tr-"

"-actually I have a light that burnt out in my room. Here," said the luscious little vixen, pointing to above her bed. In the next instant she was standing on it, bouncing slightly, reaching up, still shy of the light, but certainly not shy around her newest thralls as she smiled encouragingly at Ray with dancing eyebrows. Finding themselves at her bedside as though coming out of a daze, Ray and Grant suddenly regarded each other, their mutual contempt fiercer than ever.

"O.k. for shit's sakes R-"

"-what the fuck? I just wanna help her!"

"You just wanna FUCK her."

"Yeah and look who's talking, standing right at the edge of her bed ALSO, ass-hole!"

"Ray -- do I have to ask you again?"

"It was at ME she was smiling at. Not you, o.k.?! ME. Shouldn't THAT tell you something?"

"Uh -- o-kaaayeeee, here, boys. What's going on here, perhaps?" said Debbie, trying to process -- as rationally as possible -- the sight of her husband, standing at the very left edge of Sheela's bed, and her son, standing at the very foot of her bed, while Sheela was standing ON the bed, or, more like -- going up and down on it, very, very slightly, JUST enough to get a little bit of up and down tit shaking going on, and, to bring back Debbie's soul-wracking dread/lust feeling again, a glimpse -- before Sheela quelched it after a final "yes" -- of the saucy new boarder gently ooooo-ing and aaaahhhh-ing after each volley the newly acquainted rivals lobbed back and forth.

"Oh Debbie! Such gallant servants come to my side in my time of need! My bulbs burnt out, I mean my bulb burnt out and these very capable, willing men are almost fighting tooth and nail over fixing that bulb, Debbie, and putting it in the socket again, sticking it back in again. Or, I mean, a new one.....a new bulb....to stick it in....."

This somehow subdued matters, as Ray left the bedroom without looking at his mom, and Grant got up on the bed and almost brushed right up against Sheela's tits as he tried to centre his balance on the crappy, way-too-soft mattress. Standing on his toes, he was barely able to reach the nut holding on the lampshade. Instinctively Sheela grabbed onto the waist of his jeans as he began to slowly teeter toward her. She was equally quick to shrug at Debbie as if to say, "what else could I do?", which was, Debbie had to concede, true, however, the sight of her husband looking like he was diving toward the delicious spotter in front of him was a sight that really hammered home that turned-to-stone anguish intermingled with a lust so diabolical and engrossing and brain-numbing that Debbie felt more moisture stirring up down below.

"Uuuuhhh," cooed Sheela when Grant finally unscrewed the bulb. When he looked down again, his eyes fell right into hers. As he brought his arms down, Sheela kept her claws in his belt loops almost long enough to get in the way of his hands coming down, and withdrew them, but not before jabbing a thumbnail hard into an area of his loins seven inches northwest of his manhood -- using his body to block Debbie's view -- and rejoiced in Grant's complete restraint of reaction, as well as the knowledge that she successfully triggered an erogenous spot, his eyes and lips dilating just after she jabbed him.

"Oh thank-you my good man, Grant," said Sheela, backing down off the bed while still facing him, and took his hand in hers as he stepped down. Debbie, behind him, could see Grant's flex of cheek muscle as he looked down at the fiendish smile on Sheela's face -- a face that could switch gears in an instant, such as when she walked past Grant when she first entered the house, or, right then, when her inviting gaze, looking up at Grant, transformed instantly to predatory when she looked over at Debbie -- not even the slightest flinch of being discovered or guilty -- instead, Sheela was cool, malevolent, beautiful.

As they parted looks and hands way too lingeringly for Debbie's comfort, Sheela said, "but when will you be back to stick it in?"

"Oh I'll.....you'll bet I'll...." Grant trailed off, his efforts to remember the whereabouts of a new bulb hampered by lusting over the connotations of his response to her "stick it in" phrase, which she enounced pointedly enough to emblazon itself into the cerebral cortex of the biology professor, his testicles dancing up and down, uncontrollably.Again Debbie ushered Grant out of Sheela's room, and down the hall to the closet to where indeed they had run out of lightbulbs.

"Great -- so what the fuck we do now? I go down to the store to get more bulbs? Or just go downstairs and steal a bulb off the ceiling? Or maybe just bend over and shoot that perennial rainbow out of my ass?"

"Grant -- you do whatever the fuck you want, alright? I'm gonna go catch up on some back orders. I had a late lunch so I might grab a small bite later on tonight." This kind of pronouncement was Debbie's way of saying she was wanting her own space that night, which suited Grant just fine, making it easier to concentrate, in the den, on the lovely new boarder who definitely gave him enough encouraging looks -- right from when he first saw her, at the front door -- to make him gloat and fantasize about all the potential scenarios that can arise in future........."proximities" to Sheela.

In Ray's bedroom, the basketball player madly lubricated his cock with way too much ky jelly, pumping and jerking away like it was it his last opportunity ever to masturbate. His cock felt like it COULD NOT STOP from getting harder and harder and throbbing and bobbing, his mind racing frenetically with the main image of Sheela standing on the bed as her hypnotic gazongas undulated nicely, gently. Sheela's lascivious expression of dancing eyebrows and flashing teeth, luring Ray to the edge of her bed, was the second most prevalent image swirling maliciously in his overloaded head, making the stifling of his ejaculation his SUDDEN priority, hoping instead to just......kick back, real good........and just......give'er......and give'er, imagining all the different opportunities that could arise when living under the same roof with maybe the sexiest looking chick he'd ever seen in his whole life. Living. On. The. Other. Side. Of. This. Wall.

It was awkward jerking his cock with his left hand, but his trusty ol' right hand was plastered against his nose the whole time, as he frantically sniffed the entire surface, fingers included, sucking up whatever pulse-quickening perfume that Sheela had encased all over his hand with her pussy handshake. The more he inhaled Sheela's essence the harder and harder his cock seemed to get. It felt like his cock was on fire, straining to get bigger than it ever had before. At one point he even wondered if all this wanking was getting out of control, but the idea to slow down, let alone to stop thinking about Sheela, was a biological impossibility, her seductive aroma re-wiring Ray's olfactory senses, powering all his body's energy into his cock and balls, at times getting a headrush (fueled by holding his breath for orgasm-delaying intervals). His mind swirled, overjoyed, at the thought of being submersed in this scent, and realised that this is the closest he'd ever come to "hitting the jackpot" in any actual way, to carefully bide his time under the same roof with the hottest piece of tail on the planet.

By the time he was about to shower he found himself glued to the toilet seat and jerking his cock, frenzied like a rutting animal, and decided to shave his nuts smooth and commence stroking with his right hand so he could work as much of Sheela's lingering essence all over his testicles, kneading them, squeezing them, unaware Sheela had orchestrated this to mark her territory. Ray loved the feeling of his smooth nuts absorbing her essence, and even went so far as to bend right over to smell Sheela on his cock. In the shower, he faced the other way, awkwardly soaping down with his left hand to avoid water contact on his right hand and package. He came dangerously close to shooting his load when thinking about the next opportunity to get another of Sheela's slow-motion pussy handshakes -- preferably right in front of his newly-minted asshole of a dad.

When the loud orgasmic groan escaped from an immediately embarrassed and pissed-off Ray in the shower, Debbie got startled and dropped her mickey of vodka -- still capped -- onto a pile of fabric. She figured Sheela could be officially discharged out of their home for improper conduct if she and Ray were caught doing the nasty, and at the rate this maneater operated, her son and Sheela would most likely get it on sooner than later, prompting Debbie to rationalize it might be the quickest way to get Sheela out of their house. As far as Grant was concerned, that was another matter, and for the time being, she got the orange juice out of her mini-fridge and mixed herself a screwdriver.

In the den, Grant sat in front of the Monday night football without registering it. Astonished that he couldn't concentrate on anything John Madden was saying, Grant shrugged it off as he continued mindlessly massaging his groin, his full-on erection jutting madly against his jeans as he alternately pinched the head area, then rubbed his nuts until his fingertips burned. Quite gleefully he resigned to the eventual gunk of pre-cum smearings at the waistline of his jeans, confident that Debbie was going to stay where she was. Whenever his thoughts drifted back to his fallen friend and colleague Martin, Grant's sperm factory went into overdrive each time that concern devolved into a scenario with Sheela at the helm, alternately ripping Martin's hair out with his face between her legs, or bringing his face up to her tits while she's riding him. He could hear the blood race and throb in his ears with the tv down low, and made his cock soften enough to place it directly over his scrotum, allowing him to grab one big jean bulge, and to feel the pressure of his totally hindered cock, wanting to stretch up in the opposite direction.

"....sticks to everything!" Grant overheard from a commercial, the "stick" reference further making his loins a cauldron of squishy, roiling flesh, as he phased out the game further so he could swim in a murky, lusting fever, his range of vision decreasing the more he obsessed about Sheela, and how he must find a way to fuck her, good and true......for all Grant was starting to care, that Indian seductress could fuck his brains out, then somehow drug him or incapacitate him or whatever it is that these espionage gals do and then search through all his belongings.....the best she could do was maybe steal a master card, while the more important matters, like the codes to his research, would be nowhere to be found.

"Hi!" said Sheela, peeking her head in, her long-nailed fingers grabbing around the door. Grant wasn't sure if he was more startled or elated at the sudden intrusion. She was wearing lululemons and a skimpy blood red halter top, the latter just barely covering those enormous, puffy nipples, her endless cleavage making Grant's heart skip a beat or two. The necklace she was wearing had a green, luminescent pendant that bounced on her ripe chest whenever she moved enough. Strutting toward him with a sexiness that was so natural -- making it all the sexier, so.....curvy -- Sheela luxuriously brought her hands up through her hair and let it cascade out in the same way when they first met (and again when she was fanning hostilities between Ray and him at her doorway).

"Mind if I sit?" Sheela asked as she was already sitting down, and added, "you must be really really under a lot of strain, or out of sorts, Grant. It seems you are incredibly distracted."

"How do you mean?"

"Wwwwell, I'm not sure if you completely forgot about poor little me alone, in the dark, needing you, to.....STICK? IN? the new bulb for me, hm?"

"Oh SHIT."

At the same instant he was going to get off the couch, Sheela pounced on him with the electromagnetic power of soft fingertips just clammy enough to apply a glue to surfaces like the inside of Grant's left bicep, making his cock twitch involuntarily again, her soft, almost mock-innocent voice assuring him, "No, no, don't worry, Grant, just relax, don't worry about it right now, o.k.? Good, yes, that's it, Grant, just let yourself sit back, there will be due time, Grant, to get that new bulb and stick it in for me, ok? I can understand your impatience for wanting to stick it in, or I mean the bulb, I mean, but I promise, I will let you eventually stick it in, Grant, just give it time......"

As Sheela talked, she played with her pendant, her fingers sensuously holding it at different angles, her pinky sometimes sticking straight out like she was holding a tea cup. Grant was looking at the pendant and then looking away, feeling that something wasn't quite right.....a little voice in the back of his head told him that maybe he shouldn't get carried away looking at the way Sheela occasionally let the pendant drop down onto her chest, the resulting bounce caused by the area of stretched-taut halter between her tits. There was something about this......something....... her swiftness of actions making him wonder if she genuinely did have some agenda that night not be in his best interests. The pendant, however, was quite fascinating to look at -- the way it sometimes caught the light. Even the very tip of her wayward pinky nail gently blinded him with a soft ray of light.