Supernatural Incident: Jenni and Ma

Late afternoon, Jenni Harley (31) was unaccompanied when visiting her grandmother's grave at the Orange Summit Cemetery. No one else appeared to be in the vicinity.

The hollow-sounding voice repeated the call, "Jenni!"

Startled, she thought the voice sounded like a male, a young male.

"Yes?" she answered nervously.

"We'll meet shortly."

Close to panic, she thought was she about to die and may have just received an early warning of some kind. Her heart was certainly pumping as if she was recovering from running up a steep hill. But she hadn't been jogging that day.

She waited, her right eye twitching.

"Gran?" she called, feeling stupid.

Silence.

All she could hear was the chug-chug on a farm tractor in the distance.

A couple of minutes passed and she calmed and continued to brush debris from the concrete surround of the grave, covering bird droppings from the bottle of water she'd packed in her 'Cemetery' basket that now contained the dead flowers, replacing the fresh flowers she'd brought from her garden. She waited for the water to soak through the droppings to facilitate their removal.

When she was done, she blew an affectionate kiss at the headstone on her maternal grandmother's grave that had been occupied for barely six months.

Hurriedly she left the cemetery, turned on the radio of her small electric car and sang along with the song she knew, feeling she was escaping from her big scare while thinking her face must have turned ghostly while when hearing her name being called eerily. Yes, eerily she now thought, having regained her confidence.

Two hours later, she was nude, stretched out on the wooden chair beside the bath, about to towel off the remaining dollops of foam after attending to the regrowth of public hair when she looked up a yelled, "What the fuck. who are you? How the hell did you get in here as the door is bolted shut?"

"Keep calm, Jenni. It's only me," the good-looking guy after around 21 said quietly.

She thought ah, the voice from the cemetery. He appeared oblivious to the vulva in front of him or what had been done to it.

Jenni was frozen in fear, with one leg dangling into the bath and the other foot was stretched out to rest on to the lid of the wood woven laundry basket that earlier she'd pulled out from beside the double basin vanity unit. Her hand safety razor had dropped to the tiles.

Recovering from shock a little, she thought the guy had been presented with a real eyeful. She was surprised that he appeared to be ignoring it. Omigod, was he gay? Then she realized his focus appeared to be on her face.

"Please confirm you are Jennifer Emma Harley nee Baker."

"Yes, that's me, now get out of my house, you pervert."

His face saddened and as she watched incredulously, the well-dressed guy slowly turned blue and faded into nothing.

Before than transformation completed, Jenni had found herself looking through his body as it became translucent. Her eyes rolled upwards and she slumped back into a faint.

Minutes later, Jenni groaned herself awake to answer the banging on the bathroom door.

"Jenni, wake up," called her disgusting husband Mark, who occasionally had to wake her up in the bath. Three weeks earlier, she'd made him install the bolt lock on the inside of the door after she'd caught him out and he confessed that he was having an affair.

Jenni had pointed to two thin white streaks on his dark blue pants. She'd shrieked they were cum stains and the dampness around both sides of his zip would be pussy juice.

Mark countered by saying those accusations were ridiculous and claimed the stains were yoghurt.

Jenni hit back, "When did you last have yoghurt?"

Mark hesitated.

Jenni responded icily, "You liar, you panicked and simply said yoghurt as you know that is white and sticky. You don't eat yoghurt because you don't like it."

He'd admitted he'd lied, saying that his firm's office manager had been on heat and pulled him into the photo-copy room and had demanded fellatio. She'd caught him unaware and he'd weakly let her have her way with him.

Under cross-examination by his wife, Mark admitted the woman locked the door and they'd ended up having fully-dressed sex. He'd practically grovelled when apologising to his wife and begged for her forgiveness.

Since that steamy confrontation, Mark had been sleeping in the guest room and now it was Jenni who wanted sex. She found herself wondering how to make that happen. She thought about jiggling her breasts because that worked, even when he appeared tired. However, she wasn't the only one thinking sex.

Mark, aroused by her nudeness and eyeing her groin said dangerously, risking at being bawled out, "Omigod, you've just finished shaving. I could eat you."

Jenni groaned.

He took the cue.

As he bent down toward her, Jenni groaned louder and, grabbing a bunch of his hair, pulled his head toward her bald vulva while spreading her legs.

Contact!

She grabbed his ears with each hand to signal she wanted him to remain in that position and called, "Eat me, do your best job ever."

They had three rounds of sex on the bathroom floor and both fell asleep, uncovered and without having cleaned up.

Mark awoke on the floor in the morning, to find himself alone.

He went to the kitchen after showering and dressing in fresh clothes. He waited wisely for Jenni to speak first, sensing that despite their best sex together since their honeymoon, he would be still considered a reprobate. He was long aware that Jenni was quick to scold and slow to forgive.

"Have your breakfast. You may continue sleeping in the guest room. But the only time I wish to see you is at dinner on week nights and not at all at weekends until I say otherwise. In the meantime, you instruct our family lawyer to draft divorce papers."

Mark was thinking what if she wanted sex but instead asked, "Are we to divorce?"

"Did you not hear me mention divorce papers?"

He shrugged helplessly.

Then thinking about Anna-Maree and Shelley young teens at a residential boarding school 280 miles away, Mark asked, "What about the twins?"

"What about them?"

Clenching his hands into fists, he bowed his head, feeling guilty to the core, and said submissively, "Nothing."

Standing triumphantly like a circus ring mistress in closing a successful performance, Jenni barked, "Now fuck off."

Her husband, reeling in anger and hostility, slunk away.

Next evening, Mark left the bar after almost weeping into his second glass of whisky and headed for home, timing his arrival into predominately exile when the jailer would be watching the stupid pre-dinner time comedy show on the kitchen TV while preparing and cooking dinner.

He half-smiled and thought he was still to be fed and at least consumption would be with Jenni at the dinner table rather than eating home deliveries he ordered nightly to be consumed in his open-prison.

Dinner that evening was largely eaten in silence.

Mark had thought of not pouring her two glasses of wine as was his customary duty but decided that was a bad idea because the jailer might retaliate by ordering him to cook his own dinner in future and to buy his own provisions.

Fuck that.

Over dinner, she prattled on the marvellous American comical show that she'd been watching, instead of being intelligently critical by saying why do that put such puerile crap on TV but then remembered that her late-father had been American and she would have been partly raised under the umbrella of American culture of adoring crap that was labelled 'American comedy' although not all of it could be dismissed as crap.

Nevertheless, the timing of some of their comics was generally superb, which suggested the critical fingers should be pointed at the script-writers and the studio bosses who ruled that the aim was to amuse right down to the dumbest level of understanding of Americans.

Mark felt better at getting that off his chest and noticed that his wife was far from being amused by him sounding off like that.

He listened disinterestedly while she talked about minor issue arising at her School of Nursing of which she was director of curriculum and chief supervisor of instructors.

She also talked about her girlfriends, a couple who were newly pregnant with nothing about how they'd become pregnant which may have been rather interesting to him and how traffic congestion on the city roads was increasing which was the last thing he wanted to hear.

In turn, she listened disinterestedly when Mark as CEO of a chain of men's fashion stores had fired Lucas, manager of buying local and imports of new stock, that morning after being confirmed that her was free under employment law to fire the sod after he'd been caught by the company's sales manager drinking with two buddies, all of who were wearing new Italian high-fashion suits that the company had locked-away ready for releasing next month at the city's annual men's fashion show.

At least she did say she hoped the manager had been asked to explain the theft.

"Yes, the boss, our legal adviser and his legal adviser were present and I questioned him and he confessed. He said we needed better security. I asked was her prepared to reimburse us for the three suits at full retail price, with the staff discount apply to his suit but he said, 'Get fucked, Mark. You have no evidence the suits were stolen and I realised we had been spotted by Moses and we all discarded those suits to ensure there was no evidence of misappropriation to pin on me'."

"I told him he was fired and to remove himself from our premises instantly he would be paid the normal dismissal entitlement less the full retail prices of those three suits and if he was unhappy about that I'd see him in court."

"The bastard," Jenni said. "Did Moses reprimand you for allowing that to happen. I know what the skinflint is like."

"He tried but reminded him I reluctantly employed him but Moses demanded his employment to that position as Lucas was his wife's nephew."

"Oh lovely, um may I tell the girls about this when we next meet for coffee?"

"Yeah, but don't name the firm or identify Moses in any way, just use my name."

The tone of the conversation lifted slightly after than and at the end of dinner he stalked off before Jenni had time to think about ordering him to clear the table and attend to the mess in the kitchen.

He went to their bathroom and jerked off into her handbasin because he felt so frustration and decided not to flush away evidence of his presence as a reminder that she had a virile husband.

Mark went to his 'dung hole' (actually it was a prettily decorated and furnished guest room, last used by her late-grandmother who they both had adored. He flopped on to the bed thoroughly pissed off with his wife's massive over-reaction to his minor 'indiscretion' with the new office manager he'd appointed who had a cute butt.

He dropped off to sleep, fully clothed apart from his shoes and tie.

Mark awoke a couple of hours later and rubbed both eyes with his knuckles grinning.

He'd locked the bedroom door in case Jenni had attempted to rush in to berate him or to have sex and then berate him for disgustingly messing up her basin in their bathroom vanity.

He opened his eyes and looked at the bedroom door and boggled when her saw a blue shape forming, roughly the shape of a person and then began to change colour and become gradually more intensely defined appear magically, coming through the closed door.

"Holy shit," he said aloud. "Instead of breaking in using an axe, she's transmitting her image into the room as a hologram, using a hidden projector. That will be a useless attempt because I'm sure no guy is capable of fucking a hologram."

Within seconds, a fully-formed and well-dressed young man aged in his early twenties

"Remain relaxed, Mark. It's only me and I'm not here purely as a message and am incapable of doing you physical harm."

"What are you?" Mark said a little nervously. "Some sort of cosmos being?"

"All I know Mark is that I'm here as a temporary apparition to deliver a message that possibly could avoid a damaging setback to the destiny of your daughter Anna-Maree. Before I continue, please confirm that you are Mark Archie Harley, husband of Jenni and father of twins Anna-Maree and Shelley."

"I am."

"Excellent. And you have recovered from your initial concern over my uninvited appearance in your chambers?"

"Yes, almost completely I believe and if you appeared in this manner before my wife, she would have almost crapped herself and told you to fuck off."

"Yes, and well expressed and well-reasoned. I appreciate learning of your understanding of basic hologram technology and appear to have deduced that I'm the product of a far superior inter-galactical development of that science?"

"Correct. What I don't understand is why didn't you attempt to have another crack at Jenni after she was given time to collect herself."

"That's also well thought out."

"Well, I am a minor fan of science fiction."

"What's that?"

"Never mind. Let's get on with it."

"I'm appearing before you as a messenger of my superiors who are answerable to the 4-Gods who comprise the Council of Masters of the United Universes. The problem of communication via Jenni is that she appears somewhat highly developed in something we don't understand and that appears uniquely in the human inhabitants of what you people call the Planet Earth and that is called emotions. Research and observations show the possession of emotions appears more highly prevalent in the female human species. In my very short time in Jenni's presence, it appeared she was currently highly charged emotionally."

Mark grinned and said, "A brilliant analysis Cosmos Messenger and you are so correct."

"Why did you face change so suddenly like that Mark?"

"It's called grinning, and tends to make one look a little nicer and somewhat more tolerant."

"Oh, you smile nicely Mark."

"Well buddy, you should see Jenni's face caught by rapture moments before she releases hugely."

"Is that due to another of those emotions?"

"Err, yes. But perhaps you people are better off not possessing emotions. Being unemotional leads to peace and a more harmonious co-existence."

"I see. But I must go. Before doing so, I advise that your Anna-Maree is destined to become a major influence on development of World Peace on your Planet, Mark, and in the meantime, the groundwork for that will come through the over-population of your Planet and the mindless over-exploitation of your Planet's natural resources. Enough said. Mark fix your marriage and accept responsibility for the stabilisation of your family to nurture Anna-Maree's development into adulthood with all the required parental support that she needs to prosper.

"Thanks Mark. Don't feel over-burdened by this responsibility. It just needs a few deft minor changes to ensure everything is good along the way. Jenni will not receive another Visitation but you will whenever your frustrating in managing family affairs begins to alarm you and I'll visit you with Messages. Goodbye.

"Goodbye my Friend of the Cosmos."

The superior form a hologram faded away in seconds.

There was a knock and Jenni called, "Mark, may I enter? I come in peace."

He was unhappy about the intrusion because he had so much to think about. Nevertheless, he unlocked and opened the door and smiled a welcome. Jenni looked as if she was wearing nothing but her favourite home dress, and wondered if she'd interpreted the dried streaks of semen in the basin on her side of bedroom basin as a reminder that he possessed something she liked receiving on most days.

He decided not to tell Jenni about his other Visitation, at least not at present.

"Hi," he said, trying hard to sound friendly.

"I've come to say I'm sorry for acting such a bitch over your indiscretion when you, after getting over the shock surprisingly quickly, forgave me after you caught me in a nude sixty-nine with the new-comer to our coffee group, Benda."

"Yep, when attempting to end the embarrassing stand-off, she invited me to plug her butt-hole and I rushed off to vomit."

"Yes, you did, and I could never understand why you reacted like that. It's only sex."

"Yeah, perhaps for some people. You've never tried to enter mine."

"You'd told me you'd never had anal sex so I respected your desire for anal virginity."

"Well, Mark. "The experience has never appealed to me."

"Me neither. The woman was looking like what I imagined a whore would look like and the thought of venturing up that fat woman's shithole made me ready to vomit and off I rushed to puke."

"Omigod, we'd thought you had rushed off to get condoms and Brenda's phone went and it was her husband asking where the hell she was as she'd was 30 minutes late joining him and guests at the restaurant to celebrate his mother's 50th birthday."

Mark sighed.

"Tonks (his stupid nickname for her when he was after something), I haven't been my usual lovely self either as I was burden with guilt fucking that stupid over-sexed manager whose husband was in America on a 10-day business visit and he'd missed their 5th Wedding Anniversary."

"Oh darling, why hadn't you filled in those gaps. All you said she was on heat and she grabbed you and in a moment of weakness you yielded to her demands. I would have understood had you told me everything."

"But it was my fault, I yielded."

"Darling, I've always said men don't understand how at times women can be driven by their emotions. She simply was distressed because she wanted her pussy filled but her husband wasn't there for her and so burning in lust, she grabbed you, aware you are good-looking and correctly guessing you had a long and fat dick that was just what she needed, absolutely."

"But why wasn't I warned about that possibility when I was younger?"

"Because darling, mothers of maturing male teens believe they should have sufficient brains to stay clear of emotionally over-charged women who don't use the car's gear shift lever, or a device from their box of goodies to use in lieu of the real thing."

"What, will over-heated females push their pussy over a gear-box shift lever... Omigod, I feel sick."

"Darling, hold tight. This is exactly the problem mothers face when warning about the possible unpredictable traits that emotional women may be gripped by at times."

"Then who in hell can understand females who become over-emotional?"

"Rarely such females themselves, and perhaps not even more emotionally-stable other females and certainly and rarely the occasional male, I should think darling."

"Darling," Mark said, sounded contrite. "A few minutes ago, I had a supernatural visitation."

"Omigod. Look come to the marital bedroom and we'll have sex... long and action-packed."

"Your Visitation sounds portentous. I have a vague memory about something like that when at the cemetery on my recent visit but I haven't a clue was it was about."

"My understanding is you are not to remember where I have been given the mission which is to get our marriage back into full context with mutual acceptability and to keep it that way."

"And what else?"

"Plenty, but let's have a rousing bout of sex first. You are invariably to listened fully receptively in the wake of full-on sex."

"Omigod, and I've always had the same thought about you. Did the young guy indicate he was gay, darling?"

"Nope, he seemed totally robotic, devoid of anything but being a Messenger."

"I remember the Messenger bit but have no idea about why I should think he might be gay."

"Did he appear whilst you were working your fingers inappropriately."

"I have no idea," Jenni/Tonks said truthfully but nevertheless was blushing furiously at the thought of him aware of that possibility of working her fingers.