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

B.J.Jones the Story of My Life

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Chapter 210

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 210 - 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  

I had planned on only two training classes in a week, but throwing in six extra was going to play havoc with scheduling. I had planned on having enough time to help with setting up the next four colleges, but that was out now.

That task was now up to Cindy, Mark, Jason and Roseanne with help from Marcie, Vicky and Jenny. The work from my part of the business was getting dumped on the other members again and I felt bad about it. The hired help were getting paid to do it but for Marcy, Vicky, Jenny and Ching Lee, each already had their own part of the business assigned to them to run.

Ching Lee and I were in the hot tub discussing tonight's events before heading over to the house. The others had left earlier. We had a good laugh about my rant at Rodney in Arabic. She still wanted to know what I had said to the first guy on the mat. I went through the translation one word at a time for her. "No wonder you scared the pants off him," she replied.

Vicky was still awake as I slid into bed next to her. We both slept soundly until the clock started Wednesday and the routine started all over again.

The day was quiet at KCC and I was glad of it. I left early to get a head start on the class of geeks tonight. I had just settled into my chair when Kristina ran into my office.

"There are two old men downstairs that want to see you and Lorrie. They asked for the big boss and boss over the airplanes. They look like the god father and his lawyer. I never saw a briefcase so big or so old. You don't think he has a machine gun in it, do you?" she asked.

"You have to stop watching those old gangster movies Kristina, you're going to have nightmares," I said. "Al Capone, Bugsy and the gang along with Jimmy Hoffa are all dead. The mafia was not big in this area," I added.

"Go bring them up, use the elevator if they are that old. You can stay in here with us if you want to see an old fashion gangster shoot out, I have my piece in the drawer," I said laughingly as I called Lorrie, Marcy and Jenny to my office.

Kristina held the door for the two gentlemen. She was right about old - they both had to be in their eighties. She was also right about the briefcase; I had only seen one like that and it was in the silent movies.

Kristina first introduced Lorrie, Jenny, Marcy and then me as we shook their hands. Then she said. "I'm sorry, I did not catch your names," as she looked at the two men.

"That's because we did not give them to you, young lady," he said.

"This is Roger Dalton, my attorney and I am Craig C. Morton. All my old friends who have since died they used to joke that the C. was for crash. They called me Crash most of the time." he said.

"What can I do for you Crash?" I asked. I knew that name sounded familiar but I could not place why or where.

"I have been watching you go round with the county, looks like it's a Mexican standoff for a while. I had a round 50 years ago when they started this planning and zoning thing. They thought they were all big shots from the city, going to ram it down our throats," he said.

"They tried to put me out of business but old Roger here won the case and old Judge Roscoe did not like them either, gave me all kinds of permanent easements and grandfather clauses on my farm forever, with a catch or two," he said.

"I own a farm on the 301 about 3 miles from where the Justice boy tried to kill you - closer on the Qtown side - it's a mile and a half square, almost 1300 acres," he took a big breath to continue.

"I was a pilot in the big war. I came home just in time to bury Dad; Mom had passed a few years before. I was an only child. I inherited the farm but loved flying. I started a crop dusting business. I had the old Damble boy from Ctown put me down a strip of blacktop for a runway - one of the first around. He was a B17 pilot and started a construction business; that was his first attempt at putting down blacktop."

"A few years later they put in the zoning mess and tried to close down my crop dusting. Said it was not farming, that the farm was zoned agriculture only and they were not going to change it. That's when Roger and Bill Roscoe put them in their place."

"The catch is the crop dusting has to be carried on for all the easements and clauses to remain in effect. One of the clauses says that the owner can do anything necessary to carry on the crop dusting and spraying and the county has to be hands off," Crash said.

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