Mail-Order Bride
Chapter 12: Taking stock

Copyright© 2009 by BoonDock

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12: Taking stock - Being lonely is a bitch. Rupert has been divorced for over a year and can't seem to manage the dating scene. His daughter pushes him into investigating a Russian Mail-Order Bride site and to his surprise, he is soon busy arranging for the visit of one of the woman he meets online. The story soon descends into a violent confrontation with the Russian Mafia.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Slow   Violence   Prostitution   Military  

Daise came wondering into my office about two hours later. She looked a lot better; her hair was washed and her face was scrubbed clean. She also seemed to be lot calmer. I was on the phone, and I wave her towards the guest chair.

"Hi Daise," I greeted her when I had put the phone down, "sleep well?"

"Yes thank you. In fact, I haven't slept that well in a long time. Was that Sgt Major Dhlamini?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I guessed. It was kind of easy though because you use a different voice when you speak to him. Sort of your 'command voice'. You don't tell him what to do, or ask him, you just say 'This is going to happen.' and everyone knows that they had better do whatever they have to do to make it so."

"And how did you know it was the Sgt Major and not someone else?"

"I noticed when you spoke to him last night, that you both have a deep affection for each other. It comes through in under-tone of what you say."

"Scary," I laughed.

"What's been happening? I can see in your eyes that you are still furious about what I told you. When you laugh, it doesn't as far up as that."

"The short version is that Alina will be on a plane in a few hours and she will get here the day after tomorrow. I..."

I couldn't continue. I was interrupted by a screech of excitement.

"She is coming here?"

"Yes, the flight is booked and she should board soon. I spoke to her earlier."

Daise jumped up from the couch and sprang into my lap, wrapping her arms around me and planting a very happy kiss on my mouth. Before that could get too interesting, she pulled back and said "Thank you, thank you more than I can tell you."

I spent a few seconds just enjoying this bundle of very sexy woman squirming on my lap, then said "It's my pleasure."

Daise suddenly seemed to realise where she was and what she was doing, because she blushed beet-red and stiffened up a bit, then it was if she had made up her mind and she relaxed again. She turned her face up to mine and pulled me down towards her. I was a little conflicted, as I didn't want to have gratitude too mixed up in this, but I had been wanting to kiss her perfect mouth since I had first seen her walking into the arrivals hall at the airport.

I bent down further and our lips met gently at first. I nibbled at her lower lip opened my mouth to allow her tongue to slip in. We kissed like this, with tongues invading each other mouths, for some time. I was getting more and more aroused but pulled back with a conscious effort.

"Wow," I said, "let me try to catch my breath."

"Mmm," Daise said dreamily, her eyes still closed, "I have wanted to do that since I first saw you in the airport."

"You too?" I laughed. "I could do a lot more of that, but I think we have to focus on a few other very important things first."

"What could me more important?" Daise asked with an arch look.

"Well, staying alive mostly."

"I don't know how you say such funny things with a straight face."

"Unfortunately in this case, it was easy because I was being entirely serious. I told Alina to dump her phone and go straight to the airport once she has a visa. She isn't even going back to your apartment for a tooth-brush. I am concerned that the two of you will be traced. I meant to ask you, is there someone that you could trust to go to your apartment and collect anything there of sentimental value and post it to you here?"

"Yes, I have a friend from the college. I can ask her."

"Ok, that is the first thing we must do. I will give you an address where she can send it. It is at the kwaMashu township post office. Sgt Major Dhlamini will arrange for it to get picked up. There is no way that anyone from any Russian crime syndicate could trace a parcel from there to where we are now. Nothing I have done so far will stop them tracing us, but some things I have done will slow them down a bit. In the mean-time, I want to start preparing for the worst case scenario; if we have to defend ourselves."

"Ok, what are you planning?"

"Have you ever used a fire-arm?"

"No. I have never felt the need."

"I think we will start with that. At the very least, I need you to be familiar with a few weapons so that you can handle them safely around the house. In addition to that, you should be able to use one to defend yourself."

"I will do what ever you tell me to about this Rupert. You are my only hope."

"No. I'm not. You are family to me now and part of the Regimental family as well as my natural family. Sgt Major Dhlamini is going to be like a cousin to you."

"Are you serious?"

"Not really. We think of the Regiment as family though. That's what I meant. We look after each other; watch each other's backs; help out where we can."

"Oh. Ok. I wasn't sure for a moment there."

"No problem. Here, let's get some things and head out to the shooting range."

I opened my gun-safe and considered the weapons I had there. At first I was only thinking about the hand-guns, then I figured that I may as well push out the boat a little and I reached in and grabbed the sporterised Lee-Enfield .303 rifle.

I showed Daise how to open the bolt and check that there were no rounds in the breech or the magazine; how to uncover the scope lenses and how to work the safety. That was enough information to suffice until we got to the range.

"Is this a sniper's rifle?" Daise asked, pointing at the scope.

"No. It is accurate out to a thousand meters and deadly at about eight hundred in the right hands, so some might consider it a sniper's weapon. Snipers rifles are usually built for the purpose, like the Russian sniper rifle; the Draganov. This is a combat rifle that has had a few changes made to it such as adding the scope and a few other bits and pieces. It's a very old actually, made in about 1914 and it is called an 'Emily Mark One'."

"Emily?" Daise asked, puzzled. "Why does a gun have a woman's name?"

"It's not a gun," I answered with a small grin, "it's a rifle. A gun is a large artillery piece or a naval cannon. 'Emily' is actually M.L.E., which stands for Magazine Lee-Enfield. A man called James Lee designed one part, and some problems with the first version were fixed at a place in England called Enfield. The 'Magazine' part of the name is because it has this ten round steel magazine to hold the rounds."

"Oh, OK. I don't understand the difference between what is a gun and what isn't. I can see that there is a lot to learn."

"Actually, you don't have to know any of this to use it, so don't worry about it. This rifle is very simple to use, you put the 'bullets' in here, and then you pull back this handle, push it forwards, and pull the trigger. Whatever you are pointing at you will hit. The skill is to know how to point to make sure it hits what you aim for. Everything else is just vanity and pretension."

 
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