Kimberly
Chapter 18

Copyright© 2003, 2005, 2113 by Morgan. All Rights Reserved

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 18 - The third and last of the "Kathy Carlson" stories. It begins with a woman who feels she's ugly as sin with all the curves of a straight stick. Read what happens.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual  

“What was that all about?” Kim asked when they were finally on the San Diego Freeway headed south. “What about the training we’re supposed to be doing?”

“Remember Jenny Clark?” Brad asked.

Kim slowly shook her head. “No. Should I?”

“She’s the girl who sold her body parts. Remember?”

Kim looked sick. “Now I do! Ugh! But what about Jenny Clark?”

“Surprise, surprise! It turns out that Jenny’s an engineer, too. Furthermore, she says that your notes and documentation on the new tooling are exemplary. She now knows everything she needs to know about all your new designs, and knows where to go for any answers she doesn’t already have.

“Coupled with the flood of orders still coming in, she’s training three of the girls in the Leper Colony to handle it all on the phone.” He grinned and added, “By the way, George Harrison wonders for how long we can get lost and stay lost. With us out of state, he says, there’s at least some chance of getting out of the huge hole we put them in. So yes, you can do the film if you want to. Do you, sweetie?”

“I don’t have to answer that now, do I? After all, Kelly Jackson has shot down every other candidate she’s seen.”

“But not you!”

On Sunday morning Brad talked with Dan Douglas again. First, Kelly was looking forward to their visit. But second, she had invited Lisa to come out, too. Lisa had never even been east of the Rockies and was looking forward to seeing Washington. Moreover, Camille Franklin, Kelly’s doctor and nurse, was going to take Lisa to New York where they would be staying with Kelly’s parents, the Jacksons. Her parents utterly adored Camille and were looking forward to the visit.

They had first-class tickets on a redeye to Dulles leaving later that night.

When they boarded their plane, they found that they were in luck. It was a Pan Am 747 configured for international service essentially being ferried from LAX to Dulles for a morning international flight. As a result, they had true sleeper seats in first class.

Having finally accepted the idea that Brad really loved her, she got a blanket from the overhead bin, took off her top and laid on Brad, covering them both with the blanket. All in all, it was a very pleasant trip for both of them. Periodically one or the other would partially waken, hug or caress the other and then go back to sleep. The result was they were rested if rather bedraggled when they left the aircraft at Dulles.

Exiting the terminal, they saw a beautiful young woman wearing the uniform of an Army captain. Seeing them, she came over and introduced herself as Katrina Murphy. She explained that she was the aide to General Callahan. “By the way,” she added, “to clarify matters, on duty Mike is General Callahan, while Kelly is still General Jackson.” Then she grinned and said, “Of course, if it ever came to having to make a choice, Kelly would dump ‘General Jackson’ and be ‘Mrs. Callahan’ in a heartbeat.”

Introductions were completed and she led the way to an army staff car parked at the curb. As they headed toward Ft. Meade, Kim, seated with Brad in the back seat, said, “I’m curious about something: Katrina, I know that you’re the daughter of President Solov of Russia, but Katrina has never sounded like a Russian name...”

“You’re right. It’s not,” Katrina replied. “My mother was German. She was a dancer ... a very good one, I hear. She danced with both the Kirov and the Bolshoi Ballets. My mother died shortly after I was born, and since she had always liked the name, Katrina...”

“I’m so sorry,” Kim sympathized. Then she spoke softly to the woman in Russian.

Katrina did a double-take, listened, and then started to howl with laughter. But instead of responding to Kim in Russian, she switched to German. Kim instantly made the language switch, too.

After several exchanges, Katrina was laughing even harder.

“What’s so funny?” Kim asked, utterly bewildered.

“Kelly is going to be so pissed, she won’t be able to see straight!” the girl laughed.

“Why? I don’t understand.”

“First of all, you’ve got the rôle iced. Absolutely no doubt about that. Your Russian and German are both flawless. But your accent... !”

“Yeah,” Kim conceded, “it’s pretty school-girlish, isn’t it?”

“Not hardly!” Katrina retorted. “Kelly’s Russian and German are perfect, too, but...”

“But what?” Kim prompted.

“Kelly speaks Russian like a Muscovite and German like a Frankfurter...”

“So... ?”

Katrina was really laughing by this time. Whatever it was, it was apparent the girl thought it was the funniest thing in the world. “So... ? Kimberly, in Russia, the ultimate — the perfect — accent is that of St. Petersburg, while in German, the ultimate is to speak like a Berliner. You do, and you do both perfectly! Talking to you in Russian or German is going to make Kelly feel like a bumpkin. She’ll turn green! I can hardly wait to see it.”

By this time they were being waved through the gates at Ft. Meade and drove up to a lovely home that housed the president of the War College. After parking in the driveway, Katrina led the way to the front door which was opened before they reached it. Standing there was a tall drop-dead gorgeous golden blonde with piercing blue eyes. She was holding a baby in her arms.

Shifting the child to her left arm, she extended her right to greet Kim, Lisa and Brad. Kelly Jackson was surprised when Katrina performed the introductions in Russian. When Kim responded in the same language, Kelly’s eyes widened as she heard Russian spoken with a classic St. Petersburg accent.

With her eyes sparkling with merriment, she shook her head and said, “We’ve only just met, Kimberly Kramer, but I hate you already! Sheesh. You certainly know how to ruin a girl’s day.” Then she shifted to German and got the same result.

To Katrina she said, “I guess I’ll just have to whip her to within an inch of her life and then shoot her. Good grief! I was wondering if I could get her to learn a few words of German — as for Russian, forget-about-it — and what do I find? I find this ... this ... creature... ! could get a job as a staff announcer today in Berlin or Moscow.”

Kim decided she really liked Kelly very much already.

Entering the house, Kelly introduced the newcomers to Horace and Selma Franklin, and their daughter, Camille.

Selma held Kimberly’s hands in hers and just looked deeply into her eyes. Selma was an incredible beauty almost six feet tall with the poise and grace of a queen. As she looked into Kim’s eyes, her own eyes seemed to glaze over. Then she began to speak in an almost disembodied voice. “You are going to be so incredibly happy.” Then her voice changed to her natural one and her eyes cleared. Very gently she ran her fingertips over Kim’s belly and said, “This is soon going to be almost permanently stretched. I hope you and Mr. Kramer want lots of children, because...”

“You mean... ?” Kim asked with her eyes wide.

“I mean!” Selma replied with her eyes dancing. Then she took the baby from Kelly’s arms and gave him to Kim.

The baby, Mikhail, was almost a year old. Kim held him while he gurgled happily and reached up for her. She raised him higher and kissed and snuggled with him. If anything, the baby was just happier. He had brilliant blue eyes and dark hair, exactly like his father’s.

“He’s utterly perfect!” Kim said softly as she just enjoyed the feeling of holding the baby in her arms and smelling the characteristic fragrance of a baby who had been recently bathed and powdered.

Mike Callahan was introduced, and he and Brad hit it off immediately. The group sat down to a monster breakfast that Selma had waiting for them. When they finished, Brad and Mike went off together leaving the women alone. They were shown their rooms and Kim took a shower and changed. Emerging from the shower, she found a set of Battle Dress Utilities (BDUs) along with combat boots. When she asked, she was told they were Kelly’s; she had lots. It came as no surprise to find that everything fit her perfectly.

She found Kelly in the library on the phone. She was speaking to Fred Johnson, CEO of Smith & Wesson. “Fred, I have a favor to ask. It’s important to me,” Kelly said. “Could you ask Tony Labruzio and his people to do two more weapons? What I want are two with a military finish, not ones for presentation. You know what I mean: all parts dulled so they won’t reflect light ... That sort of thing. But I want the same slick-as-butter action, okay?”

There was a brief exchange and then Kelly said, “By the way, Fred, you may not know it, but I really am a rich bitch. And, sir, this is not to be a gift! Clear? And since I want them as fast as you can do it, I expect to pay a premium for fast service. Now, how soon?”

Johnson thought they would be ready to ship by FedEx the next day or the day after.

Kelly was also wearing BDUs. The only difference was that hers showed four stars. “Okay, lady,” she announced, “now we see what you can do. Mike is off with Brad doing the same things we’re going to be doing.”

Over her aide, Kevin Murphy’s, objections she told him that he and Katrina had the day off and why didn’t they play with their baby son, Sergei. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself, Captain Murphy,” Kelly declared, “in spite of rumors to the contrary. And I’m even old enough to have a license of my own, too.” With that she stuck out the tip of her tongue.

 
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