B.J.Jones the Story of My Life - Cover

B.J.Jones the Story of My Life

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Chapter 380

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 380 - This is the story of the life of Roberta Josephine Jones. Shortened to BJ by her friends. From the battle fields Afghanistan with the Marines, loss of her life time friend, with flash backs to her wild youth. After the Marines she must find her way in the world. The early chapters of this story includes incest, les,rape and other adult themes. I plan for this to be a multi-part serial. This is my first attempt at writing. Much of the sex is in the early chapters changing to action and drama.

Caution: This Ex-Military Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Nudism   Slow  

Saturday morning we went to the airport restaurant for breakfast again. We had a few odd and ends to take care of, then all of us were going to the gun club; the girls wanted to do a few minutes practice to stay proficient. Linda, Alice and Ellen had been at the club for half an hour practicing when we arrived.

They all were definitely better; they were now putting all the rounds in eye at the 60 foot mark. I was satisfied with the improvement and told them so. According to the blueprints of the Kampala embassy, there was a target range in the basement for them to keep practicing, unless we had to clear it out and use the area for a bunk room.

The rest of Saturday was family together time. We cleaned the house from top to bottom as was one of our customary Saturday chores. There were a lot of walk up and hugs and kisses and I am going to miss you; we were slowly building up to the big good-by Monday morning.

I held the boys every chance I could. This was going to a lot harder than I thought. Day by day they were getting stronger and in more control of their facial expressions. They smiled a lot in their sleep, when they were awake and when someone was talking to them.

Saturday night we had our normal orgy in the basement - just us six like old times – slow, soft and gentle to start and then finished wild, hard and aggressive. If the General came down he did not stay.

There were no important notes on the table. The only note said he had gone to bed.

Sunday morning I cooked the normal big breakfast for my family; it would be the last for six weeks. Mom, Dad, Jake, Mindy Jason, and the General rounded out the table. Crash stayed over at Marlene’s last night.

After the dishes were in the dishwasher and the griddle cleaned we sat around and talked until noon.

Then I began the task of packing; I had plenty of help. I wish I could have done it alone, it would have been easier.

The dress shop had put all the expensive clothes in fancy carrying cases for a price. I packed tee shirts, panties (old fashion and thongs), bras, panty hose that I had no intention of wearing, socks and the like along with all the girly things I needed went in a small duffel bag.

Another large duffel bag was filled with gym shorts and workout clothes, a week’s worth of jeans, camo, shirts and several pairs of gloves; it was left open for the case that I carried my morning essentials in. After I dressed in the morning I would tie it shut.

At 2 PM the dry ice company called to confirm that they were making a 5 PM delivery to the airport. Yesterday before they left, my administrators had been sent to the six supermarkets in the area.

They had bought all the bacon, sausage, hams, chicken, steaks, roast, hamburger and hot dogs, plus 50 dozen eggs. They cleaned out the stores. All that food was in the restaurant’s big walk in cooler.

The General insisted the eggs could be carried with no problem. Just pack them in regular coolers and put plain ice in the cooler.

We met Andy and a couple others at 4:30; we lined up the crates that were insulated. The ice company suggested we start by putting 6 inches of dry ice on the bottoms then we stacked the foods by meal time. We left 6 inches around the outside for ice. When the food was a foot deep, another layer of dry ice was applied.

When we were done there were 14 crates of foods and two crates that were filled dry ice. Ambassador Bernardi had said there was a good sized walk-in freezer and refrigerator in the basement of the embassy.

I was concerned that if we did not stop the truck bomb far enough away, we could be left with no electric service. The service was overhead from the street, and that was the reason for all the dry ice and food.

The dry ice and extra dry ice should keep the food we were carrying frozen for two to three weeks; by that time I expected it all to be gone or reduced enough for the freezer to hold the remaining amount.

The General had the suggested loading diagram from the C17 loadmaster. Andy used the shop forklift to load the two 4x 4 x 8 and 4 of the 4 x 4 crates onto the flat bed truck and then strapped them down.

On the equipment trailer, 12 crates total were stacked two high and strapped down. That was all the preloading work that we could do until the loadmaster had inspected the load.

Tonight was my last night home and for supper we decided to go to a famous seafood house in Annapolis for the king crab and steak. The food was great; the mood, not so great, very somber.

We enjoyed the hot tub one more time, the last time for a while. I was sure there were none at the Kampala embassy.

Monday we were up at 5 and loaded all my things in the back of one of the older armored Suburban’s. Older in this case was 5 years and better because it was still full sized, not the newer shorter fuel efficient version.

The new fuel efficient version was no longer fuel efficient when the armor up-fitter added all that steel plate and 1 inch glass to double the weight.

There was room for Linda, Alice and Ellen to put their things in the back of the Suburban and still have the four seats to use. I had asked them to carry only the things they thought they needed for six weeks.

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