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.
