Mail-Order Bride - Cover

Mail-Order Bride

Copyright© 2009 by BoonDock

Chapter 37: Into the Bush

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 37: Into the Bush - 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  

As I took my first few steps, I found that I was back into the rhythm. Once it has been pounded into you by instructors and experience, you never forget it. Eyes flick from right in front of your feet to check your footing, up and to the right, scan right to left, close to far, and back again in a never-ending cycle. Walking slowly and stepping high so that you clear any obstacles; checking every few steps that your spacing is correct to avoid the natural tendency to gravitate inwards towards your comrades; checking back at the section-leader; checking up in the trees to break the cycle and avoid getting into a rut that allows your concentration to drift from what you're doing. Breathing deeply to counter the effects of adrenaline; using the butterflies in your stomach to help keep you sharp. As your eyes scan, remembering to look for shape, silhouette and movement. Checking, checking, and checking constantly.

As I settled into it, the conscious drills faded into the background. I kept doing them, but I didn't have to think about doing them, just move, slowly and steadily. I had calculated that if Dimitri's men had followed the predictable pattern, they would have taken about twenty minutes to recover from the fear of ambush as they advanced slowly and found that the way was clear of booby-traps and soldiers, and started to pick up confidence again.

We reached the stopper group that Cpl. Maseka had left behind, and they got up and retreated once we were past.

As we moved further along, the undergrowth thinned out a little, and we spread out a bit further.

I spared a few seconds to search the bush behind me, and saw that Daise was walking with her rifle butt tucked into her shoulder, and a fixed serious expression on her face. I didn't seriously expect her to be engaged, but I felt it was her right to be a part of what was going on. Johnny noticed my inattention, and gestured furiously at me to indicate that I should concentrate on what we were supposed to be doing. I smiled at him and focused back towards our axis of advance.


We had moved more than five hundred meters through the bush in the last twenty minutes, and passed the scene of Cpl. Maseka's last ambush, with no sign of any of Dimitri's men. I wasn't too concerned because I guessed that they had retreated back to the house and probably to their vehicles.

We couldn't move too quickly though, because that was just asking for trouble. We needed to spot any possible ambush before we triggered it, and our extended V-formation was designed to foil any such attempts.

Just as I was about to suggest to Johnny that they had bugged out, everything went to hell in a hand-basket.

It started with the distinctive snap-crack of an incoming round. That gave us the warning, and we all went to ground instantly, just before the hailstorm of fire started lashing the foliage of the trees around us.

The old drills kicked in without thought, 'dive-down-roll-observe-sights-fire'. Without any conscious thought, I found myself in a prone firing position looking over the iron sights of my rifle. I was orientated at about fifty degrees left of our line of advance, as the fire was coming from our left front.

We had been moving up the right side of a stream, and the muzzle flashes showed that the enemy were on the other side of the stream, about two hundred meters in front of us to the left.

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