Maxine Stone's New Life
Chapter 209: Huntin Pecker Me...

Copyright© 2011 by carniegirl

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 209: Huntin Pecker Me... - Maxine stone is a retired Air Force Noncom trying to get by in a small town. Her new life is filled with small characters and minor adventures.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Ma/Ma   Consensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Mystery   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Fisting   Transformation   Prostitution  

This is a short episode. I got bored so I wrote it with one hand.

I couldn't wait to get on the road the next morning. Yes I was starved, but also I was embarrassed as hell. Being the star of a live porno show might not bother Lucy, but it did bother me.

We were eating in what was the French equivalent of a country fast food restaurant. It was a drive up food stand on the side of the road. I had what looked like a giant hot dog, but was really sausage with savory mustard on a French roll. It was good but I could feel my arteries harden while I chewed.

The cell phone provided by the CIA rang while we were a couple of miles from the campground. I knew that they could have reached us at anytime, even though we pretended that we were on the run. "Hello," I said into the phone.

"Maxine do you recognize my voice?" the admiral asked.

"How in the world did you get this number," I asked.

"Friends in high places, I have bad news," he said.

"Is there any good news?" I asked.

"The good news is, we aren't positive that he is dead," he said.

"The Irishman?" I asked.

"Who else would I call you about? He was training troops in a sandy spot. He wasn't supposed to be on any operations, but you know the Irishman," the admiral said.

"Did somebody bug out and leave him?" I asked.

"That depends on who you ask," he informed me.

"So who do you think has him," I asked.

"Not Al Qaeda, that is probably the good news. We are pretty sure it is Arab mercenaries." he said.

"How long have they had him?" I asked.

"Eight hours give or take ten minutes, How close are you to an airport?" he asked.

"Hold on a second," I said to him. Then to Lucy I asked, "How long to an airport?"

"There is a small Airport about two hours away," she informed me. I in turn informed the admiral.

"We will have a plane waiting, when you get there," the admiral said.

"Tell him to have room for two," Lucy demanded. "I speak all of the dialects of Arabic, you need me."

"Make that a table for two Admiral," I said with only a small thought to what the punishment might be for stealing Lucy,

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said.

Lucy and I put ourselves into the pedaling of the bike. Nothing else was on my mind but making it to the airport just as quickly as possible. Lucy had taken all that into account when she made the estimate. We went through the airport gate at ten minutes after 10AM which was almost dead on her estimate.

The plane that was waiting was some kind of corporate jet thing. I didn't pay any attention to the whole experience other than I didn't have to clear the airport security. I hadn't thought to get ride of the folding utility knife. At that moment I was glad that I decided to hang onto it, as a reminder of France. Hell one never knew it might come in handy for box opening or maybe throat opening.

I wondered who was going to be less happy to see us, the guys who held The Irishman, or the ones who bugged out and left him. I had no idea, but I was sure to some degree it would be both. Swamp Thing was not known for turning the other cheek. I liked that about them at least.

"Ms. Stone are you ready for take off," the man seated at a computer in the back of the plane asked.

 
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