The Visitors

"OK fine, no details but I'm guessing it's the same thing that, you know, yanked my towel down."

"Yes, I think you're right. You heard the laughter afterward right? Childish and immature."

"I heard it. I guess the fucking thing has a real twisted sense of humor."

"I don't know what we are dealing with here honey. It's . . . maybe a ghost of some sort . . . although I never really believed in the supernatural."

"Yeah, maybe, but what are we going to do. Can we like move or something?"

"I didn't want to tell you this because I knew you would worry, but I pretty much sunk my life savings into that house. Plus the repairs cost a lot more than I thought and I maxed out my credit cards."

"I could get a job," he volunteered.

"No you need to concentrate on finishing your senior year. Remember one of the reasons I was so gung ho about moving here was I wanted you attending Roosevelt for your senior year."

They both sighed before falling silent.

Finally, Michael spoke up. "You know, none of that matters, me going to Roosevelt, your credit cards maxed out, your life savings gone, if you are in danger."

"I don't think I'm in danger, honey."

"Wait. How can you say that?"

She looked at him seriously. She had not really wanted to tell him this, but now she knew she must. "Because once I relaxed and let him have his way with me he was very . . . gentle."

It hit Michael then. It had been bothering him, floating around in the back of his mind since the incident, but now it hit him full force. Those moans he heard earlier coming from her room were not moans of pain or anguish but of pleasure.

Not willing to expand on the subject, not just yet, Michael only quietly asked. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes . . . I mean pretty sure. Let's just wait and see what happens before we rip our life up again by moving. I will be careful and maybe you just, like, watch over me as much as possible."

They left it at that before turning their conversation to lighter and more mundane matters.

"Well are we ready to go home now, hon," Danielle asked after they spent the better part of the afternoon just hanging out in the park while enjoying each other's quiet company.

"Sure, if you are, Mom," Michael said trying to sound confident but not really feeling it.

After getting home, Dani wasn't in a mood to cook so they had a large pizza delivered for him and an antipasto salad for her.

Deciding to make it a dinner and movie night, they retired to the living room. Everything was quiet for the time being allowing them both to relax some, especially since she took the entire weekend off.

It was her first weekend off in a month and half and Dani was in the mood to, if not exactly celebrate, to at least take the edge off of things by enjoying some wine with her dinner.

After dinner, they cuddled quietly on the sofa together as Dani enjoyed her second glass of wine allowing her finally to relax some, and after the movie was over, she made a suggestion. "Maybe we could both sleep down here tonight, Michael. I'm not ready to sleep in my bedroom . . . by myself I mean. Would you mind?"

"No, no, of course I don't mind. You can have the sofa and I'll hang out here in the easy chair, watching over you."

"Perfect," she said with a smile to him, "I will have my own personal guardian angel watching over me while I sleep."

Dani headed off upstairs, with Michael in tow. He would stand guard outside her door while she changed into her pajamas.

An incident free twenty minutes later, they headed back downstairs. Dani was dressed in her usual sleeping attire: a comfortable, slightly snug blue tank top, cut just short enough to enticingly show off her nice abs, and a pair of comfortable white, with small black checkers, Capri pajama pants.

After changing, Dani went to her medicine cabinet. She desperately wanted to be able to get some good sleep without worrying about being attacked again so she popped a Xanax.

Michael, while waiting for his mom just outside her bedroom door, left her for a quick moment to do a quick change of his own, putting on a pair of gym shorts and a tee shirt.

Michael, stretched out on the comfortable recliner just a few short feet away from where his mother lay sleeping on the sofa, kept a close eye on things before, after a quiet hour or so, he nodded off himself under the single sheet covering his body.

Another hour passed before Michael woke up again to check on her. His eyes flickered over to where she lay still dozing peacefully under her blanket.

After an uneventful ten minutes passed, he was just slipping back to sleep when suddenly he felt a cold chill. Although he could not see anyone, he quickly got the sense they were not alone.

He raised up from the chair, ready for action. Everything seemed quiet and normal—before his mother started moaning in her sleep softly.

Michael stared across the semi dark living room, they had left the main light on in the kitchen allowing some light to spill down the short hallway into the living room.

His heart started to race as he watched the blanket—spellbound-- covering her body being pulled down and off her body. He then watched her blue tank top being slowly raised upwards. He suspected her mother was braless under her snug top and so if he didn't act soon . . .

The spell finally broke when a mere second before her tits would have been revealed to him, he suddenly bolted upright from the recliner and jumped to his feet.

His abrupt and forceful action was enough to stop the upwards progress of his mom's tank top being lifted, but it came with a price as after only a step or two toward her, he was hit by an unseen force powerful enough—it felt like a hard two handed shove—to send him reeling backwards.

An utterly stunned Michael fell backwards and into the recliner whence he just came. He was about to get back up, meaning full well to go charging back at this unseen force, when he caught the faint aroma of perfume. Although the smell was faint, it was unmistakable, and most definitely not coming from where his mother lay.

He looked around, thoroughly confused, before he heard a feminine voice speaking to him softly from across the room.

"Relax hon . . . don't fight us. She won't be hurt and neither shall you if you both comply."

Michael whipped his head around searching for the source of the voice. He found it quickly as there was the outline of a somewhat distinct figure sitting on the loveseat situated at a ninety degree angle from the sofa.

The loveseat was totally in the shadows as no light from the kitchen fell on it making the glowing red eyes he spotted all the more menacing.

"Who are you?" Michael hissed. He would have yelled but was worried about waking her up.

In that same soft, alluring even, female voice the response came. "I am simply a visitor to this plane of existence and--"

Michael, fully recovered from the initial hard shove he received earlier, didn't bother to even try and comprehend the "visitor's" explanation or wait for it to be clarified, but instead bolted upright from the recliner.

He was across the room in a mere matter of seconds and was just grabbing his mom's blanket, meaning to pull it back up and over her as some measure of protection when he was viciously yanked backwards.

Once again, the cold powerful hands doing the yanking were invisible. He was flung this time, not back toward the recliner, but instead over toward the loveseat and the vague shape with its red glowing eyes.

He hit the edge of the loveseat butt first before feeling a soft hand go around his wrist.

This time the feminine voice hissing in his ear was not so alluring as the hand tightened its grip around his wrist like a vise.

"I told you to relax, Michael. Obey or the force you feel around your wrist now could be just as easily applied to your mom's throat, boy."

He felt the hand around his wrist tighten until he was in abject pain.

Totally cowed by this raw display of power, Michael whispered, "Fine . . . I obey."

He started to turn to look at the source of the voice but before he could twist around the voice was hissing in his ear again. "Don't turn around . . . not yet. In time I will reveal myself to you. For now, just focus your attention on keeping your mother safe."

Michael obeyed. What else was he going to do after two futile charges against these obviously powerful forces allied against him?

Michael felt some playful fingers tugging at his long hair now as she cooed in his ear, "You know I changed my mind. I will let you see me now as I think it will be better, easier even for everyone, if I let you see me sooner rather than later. I'm betting you were a bit off put by my glowing red eyes earlier, but those are just for show . . . to scare you a little maybe. Actually I'm not that hard to look at honey. You wanna see?"

"Yes, I would very much like to see you. I mean . . . its freaky talking like this . . . to someone I can't see."

"OK then, go back over to the recliner there and I will show myself to you."

On a pair of very unsteady legs, Michael moved the few feet across to the recliner and after sitting down she told him, "Close your eyes and count to three and then open them."

After the requisite count of three, he opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and for the moment, anyways, he was utterly mesmerized by her looks.

She sat, perched on the loveseat across from him, sitting up, resting on her knees, an epitome of mature beauty.

DESCRIBE At first glance, she looked to be roughly his mom's age, maybe a bit older even, with DESCRIBE

Her lightly tanned complexion seemed to almost glow in the soft dim light of the living room as she tilted her head slightly while whispering, "See I'm not so bad to look at huh, sweetie."

His eyes slipped down; she was clad in a casual long white tee shirt that clung alluring to her ample curves.

She looked to be middle aged, earlier forties if he had to guess, with a nicely tanned complexion and long brunette hair framing a pretty, mature face.

He tried to take in all of her curvaceous figure at once, showed off nicely by a tight, clingy long white tee shirt that came down just to about her mid-thigh showing off the fact she possessed a pair of thick well-toned thighs.

Michael, staring longingly at this lascivious at her, found his cock jerking awake inside his gym shorts.

She stared back at him with a serious, yet seductive look, on her pretty face as she leaned forward out of the shadows, allowing him to get a better view of her upper body in particular.

Michael was a sucker for two things in particular when it came to women: big boobs and mature beauty, both of which this woman, this spirit maybe, this creature, this visitor is what she called herself, possessed in spades.

"See, I'm not so bad to look at am I Michael?"

"Hmm, no you aren't," he replied lamely as he continued to stare longingly at her abundantly large tits shown off so nicely by the tight clingy white top.

"Of course I am nowhere as pretty as that blond goddess you call Mom. What is her name, Danielle or Dani for short?"

Just the mere mention of her name sent alarm bells clanging inside his brain. "Yes, yes, that is right but please . . . don't hurt her. You promise?"

"Relax hon, your mother will be fine, as you will be . . . as long as you allow us to have our fun."

"Fun . . . Please she was attacked earlier," he snapped irritably.

"Yes that was my son. My overzealous and horny son who has the hots for your pretty mom."

Michael craned his neck, checking on his mom again. She appeared to be still sleeping peacefully but . . . wait . . . there was an ill-defined shape hovering next to her on the sofa.

He reacted immediately. "Get away from her," he fairly shouted as he once again tried to raise up.

"Shhh, hon, you will only wake her." The red eyes were back, glowing menacing at him from across the room just before a powerful draft of cold air pushed him back down in the recliner.

"Don't make me get rough with you to keep you in line," the female voice, no longer sweet and sultry, but firm and threatening, barked at him.

Michael seethed with frustration. Besides being outnumbered two to one, how could he fight beings who could make themselves both invisible and extra strong as they saw fit?

The voice was once again sweet and calm as it spoke to him from across the room. "Your mother is in no condition to defend herself Michael. She took a Xanax upstairs and combined with the wine . . . yeah she is pretty much wasted and at our mercy."

"Fine, OK, I understand but please . . . don't harm her. Don't hurt her. You have to--"

She quickly interrupted him. "First I need to clarify your position, Michael. Here is the deal, you are just guests here, or visitors even, while we are the true owners of this house. Behave, be kind and gentle with us and we will be kind and gentle back . . . just like in good host would be to their visitors, but on the other hand if you are stubborn and fight us . . . It will end badly for both of you. And don't think of even trying to move out as we will simply follow you . . . to the ends of this earth if need be . . . Understand?"

"Yes, but what do you mean you are the true owners of the house. What are you . . . like ghosts . . . did you die here and--"

She interrupted him, snapping impatiently. "No questions, Michael but I will tell you this . . . we are from a higher plane of existence than you, another realm maybe and have been here a long time, waiting, watching . . . Now, no more do you need to know. Show your compliance not in words, but in deeds Michael. First, come back over here, next to me, as I want to enjoy your company up close and personal like."

After a long moment, Michael rose to his feet and once more crossed the short distance to his apparent hostess.

His new friend—it was easier on him if he thought of her that way-- slinked an arm around him, pulling him close. Bringing her mouth to his ear, she whispered, "Just watch and when the time comes reassure your mother everything will be OK . . . if she complies."

"OK," Michael whispered as he sank against the nice warm body of his "hostess".

He watched, amazed once more as slowly the thin blanket covering his mother was pulled down by a pair of imperceptible hands. Hazarding to ask a question he whispered to her, "Why . . . why can I see you but not your son?"

"He is shy while I am . . ." She smiled at Michael before using one finger to turn his face toward her. "Obviously not."

Michael's eyes fell to her chest and became stuck there as she was obviously not wearing a bra under her tight white tank top as the outline of a rather large and ripe pair of nipples were more than a little noticeable to Michael's wandering eyes.

"Now be quiet and watch honey," she whispered to him while turning his face back to his mother.

Dani fidgeted slightly as the blanket fell away from her body.

"Put your hand down her pajama bottoms, Tony, and warm her up first before you make her come like a little schoolgirl with that wicked tongue of yours."

Michael saw the outline of a hand slipping inside his mom's Capri bottoms as she continued to fidget.

Her fidgeting got more intense as the invisible hand under her pajama bottoms began to move around a bit.

"You . . . you shouldn't be taking advantage of her like this . . . while she is sleeping."

"Fine, go to her, wake her up quietly, tell her what I said earlier, comply and we shall be gentle . . . with the both of you. Tell her it's all a dream if you think that will help . . . but don't you dare try to interrupt my son from having his fun. Understood?"

Michael nodded his head yes, as if in a dream himself, before moving across the room to his mother. She was moaning quietly now as he watched the outline of the hand inside her pants moving up and down in a slow, rhythmic manner.

"Mommy wake up," Michael whispered in his ear. When her only response was another quiet moan, he whispered louder, while shaking her gently on the shoulder, "Wake up, Mother, wake up."

Dani slowly swam to the surface of consciousness before her eyes suddenly flew open.

Turning, she looked at her son as he squatted on the floor next to the sofa. "What is . . ." She let out a shuddering breath as she realized what was happening to her.

"Why is your hand inside my pajama bottoms, honey?"

"It's not my hand, Mom." To prove his point he held up both of his hands to her.

She stared at them with half lidded eyes before whispering, "Oh God it's happening again isn't it . . . and you are helping him?"

"Mom, Mom no . . . I mean yes, I have to. I tried to fight them but he is too strong and she is nice and promised you won't be hurt. They will be gentle . . . to the both of us. She promised."

"W-who is she?" Dani asked quietly. The hand inside her pants had stopped its maddening teasing of her wet pussy while she talked to Michael, allowing her drug addled mind to concentrate somewhat on things.

"I . . . I don't know her name but she is right over there." Michael pointed over to the loveseat.

Dani slowly turned her head.

"She is . . . sexy."

"Yes, as you are Danielle. I hope we can be friends and by the way, my name is Ms. Ava Diamonds and my son's name, the mischievous little boy who attacked you earlier, I'm sorry for that by the way, but, well, he is not so little by your earthly standards as he is actually eighteen years old now, but he is quite mischievous and rather smitten with you and his name is Tony."

"Oh, that is a nice name," Dani mumbled as she started to shut her eyes again. The Xanax and the wine had dulled her senses to the point where, despite the incredibleness of what was happening, all she wanted to do was lay back, relax, and close her eyes.

Michael brought his mouth to her ear. Whispering softly, he told her in a pleading tone, "Please Mom, we have to comply with their wishes and they won't hurt us."

Looking up at Ms. Diamonds, Michael glared at her, before hissing, "I won't let them hurt us. I will die defending you if need be."

"Hmm, how romantic but I don't think it will come to that at all, Michael honey. Am I right, Dani?" Ava told them in that same deep, sultry voice Michael found so alluring.

"Hmm, right. He doesn't need to defend me because . . ." Dani's voice trailed off. It was hard for her to form complete thoughts at this point.

"Because they will be gentle with us," Michael finished for her while staring at Ava.

"Yes, gentle and sweet."

"Gentle and sweet," Dani cooed, "like sleep, like dreaming. I wanna . . . dream some more . . . just lay . . . back . . . down."

She started to sink back down onto the sofa as Ava rose to her feet and took control of the situation.

"I think we all would be more comfortable upstairs in your bedroom, Dani, where you can stretch out on that large king size bed of yours. Sound good. We will help you up the stairs. Come Michael . . . help me get her on her feet."

Together, Michael and Ava helped a protesting Dani to her feet. As they staggered across the living room toward the stairs with her sandwiched into between them, Michael whispered, "Will Tony be . . . like joining us."

"I already sent him upstairs to prepare your mom's bedroom."

"Prepare my bedroom?" Dani whispered as they reached the stairs.

"You shall see. I think you will like it."

After managing to maneuver the half asleep, half intoxicated Dani up the stairs the three of them entered her room.

The entirety of the bedroom was bathed in soft light from dozens of candles scattered strategically throughout the bedroom on the dresser, on both her nightstands flanking the bed, and on her vanity table over against the wall. In addition, coming somewhere from the shadows was a soft romantic song.