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Aiming accuracy left a bit to be desired, five feet from the bullseye was the best she could achieve. Close only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and pipe bombs. We had a winner! Four ounces of black powder produced a deafening bang as seventeen thousand PSI of gases blew the pipe to smithereens. As if the display of aerial ingenuity was not enough, the IED Team’s next creation was diabolical. I let out a sharp whistle of amazement and admiration when they presented Sheila with the prototype for a landmine activated by either pressure or remote control. The body of the mine was a hollow baked ceramic shell about two-inches amateur thick indian and the size a pie baking tin. Sixteen ounces of black powder filled the container. The device was covered by a thick coating of wax, rendering it waterproof. gay As a bonus, the tacky surface attracted dust and dirt for camouflage. A blasting cap connected to a nine-volt battery detonated the mine if something stepped on the pressure-activated trigger and completed the circuit. “I doubt if it’ll be lethal,” Brenda caressed the IED as if it were a sleeping cat, “but it sure as hell will muck-up someone’s day.” Several back-channel contacts established over the years provided a source, at a hefty price, for two M60 machine guns, spare parts, and several replacement gun-barrels along with five thousand rounds of belted ammunition. On the first day of May, Sheila advised her executive committee that she was ordering a four-vehicle expedition into town to acquire necessary supplies. We had two weeks to finalize our shopping list and prepare for a temporary return to civilization. We were on a mission to put some bite desi into our defensive bark. Chapter 32 "Okay, listen up!" Sheila knocked her knuckles on the conference table and brought the final briefing to order. "We've got an outstanding weather report, vehicles and crews are ready. We are good to go at daybreak..." she smiled as she waved at the huge flat screen display we had installed several days ago and checked her watch for the time, "...which means we're in luck. We have thirty-minutes for one last run-through." "Time for a quick cup of coffee before we start?" I made it halfway across the room to the beverage cart before she could respond. To cover my transgression, I returned with two steaming cups of Colombian nectar. Sheila's serving was fixed precisely as she liked it, black with a splash of cream and a dash of sugar. Sometimes it's easier to obtain forgiveness than it is to gain permission. "Careful. Payback's a bitch," the commander murmured with a half-smile and a roguish wink as she accepted my South American peace offering. I attributed her spirited behavior to pre-mission jitters. She homemade was entirely in tune with the antsy and excited mood in the room; I felt the same way, an urge to be moving. Obsessive attention to detail was one of my boss's annoying pain in the ass leadership qualities. The devil lives in the details, and she had me chasing demons and termites in the woodwork for two weeks as we worked the kinks out of the operational details for the Sisterhood's supply excursion. "I assume you've all had an opportunity to memorize your group's itinerary and route." The chief held her thumb up and scanned the faces of the assembled teams for confirmation. A sea of nodding heads and a forest of rising thumbs replied in the affirmative. "Excellent, class! Solo Practice makes perfect; let's do one more review. We don't want another Colfax cluster-fuck." Sheila changed her voice from slightly alto to a nasal falsetto as she mimicked a grade-school teacher from Hell. She put her mouth next to my ear, and said, indian “Do you play with your penis?” I replied, “No, Father Paul says not to.” Her hot breath homemade sighed. I cooperated and was told to turn around, so I did as I was told. I’ve already booked a flight for you and Lorraine. I gave her a little push, but that was enough. You slap my ass hard and I gay moan. "I-is everything..." he started, but she cut him off, hurrying over to collect her bra. “Well let’s desi get them out and introduced them.” She giggled; she unhooked the clap on her bra she let it slip off. This is a true story of one of the first times I'd ever hooked up with a man. I was 20 years old and had just started a job for the summer at the beach. I didn’t really feel the hands that were groping me, nor the next swat with the bamboo cane, although that did bring me back to the real world. "Thanks for this daddy" Presley said in a shy voice as she grabbed her father's hand. "Lil, are you not hearing me? Get lost!" C’mon I said, let’s go. I wished my sex slave was here to help me. It would be so hot watching amateur Aurora getting my mother all wet and ready for me. That would come later. Juices trickled out of me while my tits heaved. Mom had stocked Solo the fridge and I came up with sausage links, eggs and hash browns.