The Ghost Of Halloween’s Past

When I was a kid around 7 or 8 I had a really great friend. As we got into our early teens we were very close, and now looking back I realize just how close. She was the person I talked to about anything and everything, I even talked to her about girls and she talked to me about the boys. We had that real close cousin type of friendship even though there was no blood relationship, but we were more than friends, our connection went deeper than that, much deeper than one can simply imagine. So, in “honor” of my great friend in life I would like to share some memories, I hope she wouldn’t mind.

The first time I met Gabby I was probably 7 or 8 years old, I was spying on the new girl on the block as she helped her parents unpack the moving truck and I was truly fascinated with everything about her. I was up high in the tree in our front yard, as quiet as a hawk searching for movement in the tall grass, as I watched her blonde hair whip around in the breeze. I got distracted for real and was watching two squirrels fighting over something at the end of the very branch I was laying on. Out of the blue I heard a quiet voice, the whispering voice of a girl asking me if I wanted to climb down so I could play with her. After I climbed down we walked back to the bayou where we caught and played with the crawdads that were everywhere. We didn’t talk much about anything, we just got muddy, laughed, and played. Later on we hear her dad calling out in the distance for Gabby to come home. With big eyes she stole a kiss on the cheek, told me thanks for playing with her, and she was gone into the wind. We would play like this, for hours at a time after school and on the weekends.

We went trick-or-treating together that first year she moved in and that became our “little tradition” for many years to come. We would do crazy shit all year long, pranks, jokes, and so on, always doing it together as much as time would allow. In our early teens our friendship took a turn to the best I think, I never heard her complain either, she noticeably was going from little girl to a young lady. As this happened, we played allot of show and tell and allot of spin the bottle and a fair share of truth or dare, always just us two, nobody else was allowed to participate. It’s just the way it was. Before long we knew more about one another than each other knew about themselves, inside and out. But this was all about to end, I was moving away the summer between 8th and 9th grade to live with my dad in another state. It was a surprise and crushing blow for all of us, family included, as everyone guessed us to start dating because we were inseparable at all times. That was a hard summer for me, I crashed an ultralight aircraft attempting to get my amateur aviation license which should have killed me, but it didn’t luckily. Unfortunately, on my final trip back home at the end of summer, to pack and say goodbye, I was given the terrible news that my dad had a fatal accident while participating in a exposition air show. I buried him a week later. All my plans died with him that day, but the only person I felt I could talk with or just sit with was my best friend Gabby.

High school started right on cue, we had unofficially started dating, meaning we did everything together but weren’t actually together, but everyone but us called it dating, we are just good friends. By our sophomore year the boys were really noticing her and time in our friendship was being stretched beyond control, something had to go, and that something just happened to be me. She dated many boys, I didn’t really have a serious relationship until 11th grade which made our friendship even stranger. In the beginning of that relationship Gabby played dirty, in my spare time she was there, flirting harder than ever, always naked around me when we were alone, always tempting me with the very thing I always thought I wanted, but it never happened, but according to her rumors we were together, we were fucking, and I was taken. A nice story that ended badly. We didn’t speak again until the night of our graduation, where she told me she was leaving soon to go to Air Force basic training, a place I was also going to be but got accepted into college so my enlistment was delayed 24 months. That was it, my first crush was leaving and I didn’t have the nuts to even tell her goodbye or I’m sorry or good luck, I just let her walk away.

I did attend college, I did get married to my high school sweetheart a year later, and did join the Air Force another year later. When all the dust settled and I land at my first base, I find out my sponsor just so happens to be little miss Gabby herself. I had four years to do in Japan, luckily she was leaving in a few months. We partied quite a bit before she left, a habit greatly practiced by ammo troops I soon found out. Yes, if hadn’t guessed, we had the same job, both making the choice we decided way back when in yesteryear. Soon enough she left, leaving me once again. I saw her again, sooner than I thought, as we both were deployed for Desert Storm and were stationed at the same base. It made 8 months fly by, having a friend from home with me. But soon enough we rotated out to our home bases and once again we were separated again. I would see her off and on for the next few years until we ended up in New Mexico together. She had gotten married to a true asshole, I say that because he thought it was okay to beat on her regularly. A disturbing fact that was brought out to my attention one early morning when she showed up in my doorstep with a bloody nose and bleeding lip. That night a few of my friends and I payed him a visit, never before had I tried to kill someone before, but I tried that night. He got the message and slipped away quietly one day soon after, leaving a note announcing he wants a divorce.

Life went on, I divorced my wife, got out the Air Force, and so forth. Meanwhile, Gabby was determined to make a career out of the Air Force, and carried on, gaining rank, ribbons, and accommodations. After two back to back tours in Afghanistan she decided she was done, she retired as a Senior Master Sergeant (E-8) which I had an invitation to the ceremony but had other obligations, so no, I did not attend. I got a phone call from Gabby a few weeks later, announcing she had moved back to Houston and wanted to get together with my family and I for dinner one night soon. My current wife knew very little of Gabby and our lifelong friendship, since I never had a need to talk about my past much, something I’ve been working on lately, and my wife is now realizing that I treat my relationships, friends or family, and with her, very seriously, and I will guard those relationships until the end. She gets it, I think.

Our dinner out was great, everyone including my wife and kids, had a great time talking and visiting. I think my wife looks at me differently now, she never has had anyone explain how my life in the Air Force was except for me, and I tend to not talk much about the details, just keep it short and sweet, the end, story over. That dinner was two years ago, on Halloween night, a night not unlike many before it, we said our goodbyes, made future plans, and we went our separate ways. After getting settled at home, about an hour and a half after leaving the restaurant, I got a phone call from the Constable’s office to inform me that an officer was heading my way to discuss an important matter with me. Soon enough we got the knock on the door, the officer was there to inform me of a fatal automobile accident a few hours ago. Seems I was listed as Gabby’s only next of kin and also the last person she spoke with according to her phone. He explained that a truck traveling the opposite direction hit a deer which resulted in the truck losing control and colliding head on with Gabby’s truck at what was estimated at at least 80 mph, resulting in both being killed at impact. The following day I was asked to formally identify her body and yes it was her. She had a closed casket funeral due to the facial and upper body damage. A very small funeral at the Veteran’s Cemetery here in Houston, most of the people attending were my family. Her flag was presented to me, probably the hardest thing I accepted in life with exception to being 15 and presented my father’s flag at his funeral.

I have bad news for my wife, who recommended I tell this story here today in my spare time, who thought it might make me feel better if I take the time to write about my great friend and our enduring friendship, who is wrong because I don’t feel better, but I did enjoy the trip down memory lane, sort of, but I think I should come clean to y’all, the story y’all read today is only about 1% of everything that ever happened. For now y’all can assume and presume, for now y’all can filter through it all, because for now I’m very done writing about it. In case you are curious, the picture is of Gabby, I took that picture in an undisclosed location in a desert in New Mexico many years ago, alongside a deserted road, she wanted to flash somebody so bad, but after hours just the scorpions, the buzzards, and I were the only ones enjoying the show. It’s a great picture and memory of her, she truly was a graceful and free spirit.

The Unofficial Air Force Job Title

Secrets From The Ancient Scrolls

In an effort to look into the pride felt by us in the United States Air Force AMMO community, added below is an excert from the ancient and honorable scrolls.

Thus it is written in the talismanic scroll concerning AMMO… in the begininning the universe was formless and void. Then was ordained the “Big Bang” and so AMMO was. Through antiquitity even until today, the world has trembled at the roar of AMMO’s power. The walked cities and the strong towers continue to fall beneath the onslaught of our awsome might. Moving like a mighty tidal wave across the world, AMMO conquered the unconquerable and brought low those weilding indiscriminate power. Our charge for the future is as it has been in the times past: supply those in the right with the power to protect and fight for the right. Until all live as brothers in the world where we have space and peace only, AMMO will live. So it was spoken…so it is written in the scroll…so shall it be…! AMMO

 

Posted From Scorpion Sting’s Motorola Droid Maxx!

People Keep Wanting A Definition

Traveling Down The Rabbit Hole

A couple of months ago I received a letter in the mail that made some, in my opinion, really outlandish claims. It was a letter that took quite a bit to digest because the information made sense but at the same time confused the hell out of me. The first person I talked to about this letter was my oldest daughter (23 y/o) because I was hoping she might help me make sense of it enough where I could have a talk with my wife that actually made sense. In the beginning of the letter the woman identified herself (I will refer to her as “ST) as the granddaughter of my biological mother (I will refer to her as JT). I was 2 sentences in to the letter and now I was a little pissed. Let me track back a few years and I will explain. I will assume from this point forward that y’all know I’m adopted. I located my biological mother back in 2002 and the short version was I was fed a boatload of bullshit that took me roughly 8 years to unravel. When I unraveled what I was able to find out I was able to find my biological father (died in 2004) which led me to tracking down his wife, which eventually led to me finding their children, and in 2009 I met a majority of them when attending my eldest daughter’s high school graduation in South Dakota where the biologicals also happened to live. Anyway, the long and the short of this is that my biological mother (JT) said without saying that she does not have time for me in her life and wishes that I will discontinue contact. Her wish was my command and I do not have contact with her nor have I met her yet because she has declined meeting me under any circumstances. Back to the beginning of the letter from ST. Granddaughter? This means that JT had children or at least one where she told me that after the “ordeal” with me that she never wanted any more children because she was heartbroken that she was forced to give me up for adoption since she was only 16 y/o at the time of my birth. Shall we go deeper into the rabbit hole?

ST went on to explain that she was the daughter of the youngest of two sons of JT. Dramatic pause please ………….. wait for it ………………. WTF did she just say???? Did she just say that my biological mother had two sons besides me? Unfuckingbelievable! Now ST had set the hook and was in the process of reeling me in, it was slow going because, as one might imagine, I was fighting the information a little bit because of my disbelief of what she was saying. I can’t help but reading on, pushing forward, looking for the next little surprise that she might have to offer. Here it comes, she didn’t ease into it at all, no cuddling and no foreplay, just jumped right into it. Apparently my biological mother is having some heath issues of some sort so ST was asked to come over to her house, because they live in the same town of Kingston Idaho, to help her do some cleaning. ST wasn’t there to help, she was there to do it herself because JT was in the hospital for a few days having tests done. While at JT’s house ST got to snooping around because she has never been in this house alone so she said it felt natural to look around a bit. ST had done some laundry and was in the process of hanging the dresses up in the closet when her hand bumped a large envelope. When she peeked to see what was in this stuffed envelope she saw pictures of her dad (RT), her uncle ( also JT), and another man she didn’t recognize (me). There were individual pictures of me while I was in the Air Force, individual pictures of her dad while he was in the Air Force that she had never seen, and one picture of her dad and myself together in our uniforms. She enclosed a copy of this picture. My first thoughts? Holy shit I met my half brother and neither of us even knew the relationship. ST had not made the connection at this point, it took her some time looking through letters that I had written to her over the years, 4 to be exact, none of which were ever answered. ST explained she was very stunned because grandma had some explaining to do. ST borrowed the envelope that afternoon knowing that grandma would not be home for a few days. She wanted to talk to her boyfriend of 4 years what he thought and if he had got the same impression from everything that was read, to include information about my adoption and so forth. He concluded the same thing, her grandmother was hiding all of this from the family for some reason. But, what was the reason? Why hide all of this for so many years? Why is it so important to keep this a secret? That information boys and girls may never be revealed.

After speaking with her boyfriend, ST spoke to her father in a very private setting. Her dad, RT, explained to her that it was ok to contact me since they had my phone number and address. So, she did contact me, she did write me the letter, and she did talk to her uncle as well. I reviewed what I knew about her dad. He was part of a select group of people that I hung around while I was stationed in New Mexico. He was on my “crew” but I knew all six of my crew pretty well because working with explosives you need to be able to know the “sides” of people and their moods as it helps to determine how they operate day to day. In fact, I knew ST as a young girl, I would guess she was 9 or 10 at the time, as well I knew his wife. Her dad and I had a weird relationship, we acted like siblings to one another, but were never really close by any means. We joked around well together and worked well together. As I read this letter I would pause to look at the picture she sent because I knew exactly when, where, and why the picture was taken. That in itself isn’t important, just had those flashback moments that in the end made me smile. After a very long talk with my wife the ultimate question was asked, she wanted to know what I was going to do. Well, first, I kissed her on the forehead, gathered up the letter, and headed out to my shop to be alone. I was mad. I was mad at a person who didn’t have the time for me to tell me she had two sons just a few years younger than me. I was mad that I wasn’t important enough to tell. I did allot of yelling at her in my shop, I called her things I don’t care to repeat here, and I cut up allot of wood that otherwise I would have used to make something nice. I worked thru my anger as the night passed. I would read the letter, stare in to the picture, read the letter some more, and then finally I folded the letter back up, replaced it into the envelope, closed up my shop, and went back up to the house since it was about 3 in the morning. I called her that day, I tried to be a cold hearted bastard and act as if I didn’t care, but it didn’t work because ST was so damn sweet to me. She knew she would be fucking my life up by sending the letter, but she knew she needed to tell me what she did for the sake of everyone involved, to include herself. She mentioned that she put all the papers back in her grandmothers closet and she isn’t any wiser that anything has transpired. St asked me if I was mad at her, I guess my tone was a little stressed, but I let her know I hold no anger for her because they were as clueless as I was. She mentioned how bizarre she thought it was that her grandmother would keep all this information about me but keep me a secret to all her family. All I could do at that time was agree with her.

Since then, I have spoken to ST and my two 1/2 brothers on a few occasions. I have not spoken to my biological mother. I have sat down and talked with my mother who finds everything I uncover over the years very interesting. Sadly, she has been able to provide zero help because she had parts of the same false information I began my journey with. But, she knows I am not family shopping. Any additional people brought into my life all have to understand I do have a life, that they also have a life, and just knowing all of this information is disruptive enough. Then a person has to process the lies, the deceit, the rabbit holes, and the sometimes high hopes which get deflated every so often. I don’t know if they will ever confront their mother with what they found out or with what I was able to tell them. Personally I don’t care. They will have to wrestle those demons on their own as I wrestle my demons on my own. I know what your thinking but I’m not really that selfish. As far as I am concerned I don’t have anything specific to say to my biological mother. If I never meet her in person I think I can live and die in comfort with my decision. It’s things like this in my life that demonstrate the exact reasons why I don’t trust too many people.

IHeartRadio Show Your Stripes

Show Your Stripes

As a United States Air Force veteran, I really appreciate the IHeartRadio Show Your Stripes program. I have pointed many friends in this direction and they have all had great success. Congratulations to ALL of them and to Show Your Stripes! I encourage everyone, if you are a veteran looking for a job, if you are a business wanting to hire vets, or if you just want to support the program, to click the picture or follow the links to visit IHeartRadio and get the ball rolling.

Dealing With Difficult People In Your Life

I have spent a considerable amount of time, which I sort of consider to be wasted time now, either dealing with difficult people or wondering what is the best way(s) to actually deal with the difficult people I encounter in my daily life. I have spent much quality time being a “people watcher” for many reasons. No, I do not have aspirations of being a great “people whisperer” but I have found that observation and silence are tools that give proven results in my life. Maybe you experience them as well. First, I had to be able to recognize the different kinds of difficult people. Second, I had to develop questions to ask myself about how I wanted to best deal with the difficult people I have in my life. Third, I had to learn different strategies to help me interact with the difficult people in my life. So, I was reading some things I wrote over time which have really been just “notes to self”. I started writing my questions, methods, answers, and strategies down back when I was in the Air Force since I learned that just because I perceived a person as difficult didn’t actually mean that person was difficult. These observations have grown year to year, job to job, marriage to marriage, and as I have aged or matured. So lets begin.

Do you recognize any of these 9 types of people?

• The Know-It-Alls – They are the arrogant and always have an opinion on every single subject. When they are wrong they get very defensive.
• The Passives – These are the people who never have an opinion and never offer a clue to where they stand.
• The Dictators – These people are constantly demanding and are overly brutally critical of others. They enjoy being the intimidating bully.
• The “Yes” People – These people will agree to everything and rarely follow through with any commitment they make. You learn fast that you cannot trust them.
• The “No” People – These are the inflexible people who are very quick to point out why something is wrong and show negativity towards making something work,
• The Gripers – They prefer complaining instead of finding solution because nothing is ever “right” for them to begin with.
• The Extremely Religious – This person has an extreme and unconditional approach with life and people. These are the people who fear their God(s) in such a way they feel they must spread the fear with every word they speak to anyone that will listen.
• The Bullshitter – They are the habitual liars who are habitually undependable in every aspect of their own being.
• The Fucktard – This is an extraordinarily stupid individual who is so willing to disregard all common sense. They are obviously oblivious to everything about everything in every way. This is a person of unbelievable, inexcusable and indescribable stupidity.

Now, I know damn well you recognize each and every one of the people listed above. I know, also, that this is a pretty short list, more “types” can be added of course, as well as sub-categorized. Being able to notice people is the key. These are the people you live with, work with, rely on, and communicate with on a daily basis. Once you recognize what kind of person they are you can develop a strategy to quickly, confidently, and effectively deal with every kind of difficult person. It’s actually easier than it sounds.

Ask yourself the following 20 questions:

1. Do you want to be able to understand the difficult people in your life?
2. Do you want to learn how they think, what they fear, and why they do what they do?
3. Do you want the ability to understand how to make dealing with them less frustrating?
4. Would you like to know specifically what to do and say in every difficult situation?
5. Would you like to be less of a target for the difficult people in your life?
6. Would you like to be able to derail difficult people and teach them to treat you with respect?
7. Do you want to bring out the best or worst in people?
8. Did you know that difficult people are not difficult people all the time?
9. Do you want to know what makes a difficult person tick?
10. Do you want to know why complainers are complaining?
11. Would you like to know how to get people to keep their word to you?
12. Would you like to be able to respond to those who practice one-upmanship?
13. Want to react better when you are being yelled at?
14. Is it possible to be in sync with a difficult person and get along?
15. Do you wish you reacted better when you are criticized unfairly?
16. Do you know when to back down or to hold your ground?
17. What do you do with excuse makers and blamers in your life?
18. Do you wish people didn’t or couldn’t push your “buttons”?
19. Can you give an aggressive person an alternative direction to the aggression and conflict?
20. Did you know that specific “body language” is a more powerful tool than actual words.

In the end I think everyone gets tired of over-blown promises that turn out to just be an empty bucket. You can take control. You can be in charge. You can own what you think and break out of the bad habits that you have created or that have been created by others. Are you one of the 9 types of people I listed? Oddly enough most people are a collective of many types based on the people that surround them. Over time your actions, voice, and personality will become contagious to those who are around you. Toxic people become less of a threat once you understand what makes them the way they are. There are many factors to understanding others and most often begins with understanding oneself first. It is hard to heal a wound that cannot be seen. Now, I know you are waiting for the “punch-line” or the “answer” and unfortunately I don’t have either to offer. I can, however, offer unsolicited advice which shows that tact and skill in handling difficult people become very enviable traits in a person. Changing your ways will be something that is noticed immediately and at that point you have balanced the playing field. Once you realize your own person power over difficult people your confidence in any situation will become one of your best traits. If you take nothing more away from this information just remember to just smile at a difficult person because it will throw them off guard because they will spend endless amounts of time wondering why you are smiling at them. Meanwhile they tend to forget why they were being difficult and often dismiss themselves from the conversation or situation. Personally, I know I can defuse any difficult person by doing two simple things, being silent and smiling. It works.

From Stripper To AMMO Troop

I don’t know how many times I get found by accident by people not knowing they are actually looking for me. What do I mean? Well, take the young lady that has sent my next story to be featured on The Magic Weekend. She, and I will put her exact words in a bit from her e-mail, said she had heard about my blog from friends of hers. Come to find out, as you will read, she recognized me as someone she actually knew in real life. I know, bizarre. She explains we have two things in common that I might not be aware of, first of all being that she began as a stripper at the club I worked at in Houston around 2 weeks before I quit. Second, she has since joined the United States Air Force and she is now proud to call herself an Ammo Troop. We do have a bit in common it would appear. She mentions in her e-mail that she is about to leave the United States to be stationed at Osan AB (South Korea) as her first base. Without anymore from me, let’s get into her e-mail and story.

“Hey Mr. Bartender”

I realize you may not recognize or remember me but I remember you. and that is what is important. I think before I tell my story I will give you a little background about myself. When I was in community college I accepted a bet from friends of mine. When we would go out and party I would get told that I dance like a stripper and I have the body of a stripper. When you are drunk, anything sounds like a compliment right? Anyway, one thing started another and before I knew it I had accepted a bet that I couldn’t get hired as a stripper. After a little research on the internet I thought I had found where I wanted to “apply” and I went for it. Call it strange if you will but I had come across your blog and I remembered some it when I got hired to strip. The first couple of nights the club had a female bartender working at the dance floor bar. Then I saw a sign about how to get free drinks. It dawned on me at that time that the person who wrote that blog was actually real. When I asked where you were they told me you would be in to work in a few days. When I saw a few of the strippers wearing a “Jesus Loves Strippers” t-shirts I knew I had to have one but only you had them in some kind of private stash. Come to find out, you kept them locked in your locker. The night you showed up to work I heard the rumors that you had quit and would only be here about another two weeks. I did get my t-shirt and I was one of the “select” strippers who was involved in your farewell party. After around 6 weeks I ended up quitting. I proved a point, I could get hired as a stripper. Second point I proved was I was good at it. In fact, in that 6 week period I grossed nearly six grand. Not bad in my opinion, not bad at all. I also was done with my two years at community college (HCC) and I already had plans to join the Air Force. When I joined I was undecided as to what career I wanted to get into. One thing has led to another and as it worked out I have graduated from Munitions Tech School (AMMO school) and now I’m on the way to Osan AB, South Korea. Which is where my actual “weekend story” begins.

I knew what I had to do, I wanted to have one last party to end all parties. I hope it is okay, but this story ends up getting pretty graphic. After graduation I headed back to Houston to visit my family, visit friends, and have this last party. I picked that I wanted to go to Galveston and party all weekend on the beach. I bought a new bikini in hopes that I would get some unsolicited attention. When we got to the beach, me and two of my girl friends, were ready to get the party started. I was on a mission, I wanted to be shit faced slobbering drunk by noon and wanted to stay that way until midnight the following night, Sunday. We started drinking out on the beach about 9 in the morning and we were out of beer and wine coolers by 1 in the afternoon. It was pretty hot so we decided to go up to one of the bars and drink it up in the shade. We carried on like this for hours. I don’t know which of us was the drunkest because we were all pretty toasted. Late in the afternoon I convinced the bartender that I was too tired to drink and from that point forward I would just lean my head back and he would pour whatever I was drinking straight down my throat. This worked out for quite some time and before it was over all three of us were getting our drinks this way. My girls and I were talking about how I wouldn’t be seeing them for about a year or more and they were worried I wouldn’t know what to do without them. Then, out of the fucking blue, one of them asked if I planned on losing my virginity to some lucky Korean man. They said this laughing and it really sank in making me think. Here I am almost 22 years old and I have never hooked up with anyone. It’s been close but no cigar. If you can count heavy petting, stroking, and a hand-job with a happy ending close. I was a better flirt. I liked to tease. I liked to fuck with the boys until I got visual proof that I had their complete attention and then I would just walk away. I have spent many years drinking for free just for a flash of tit or a quick peek of clit. It is who I am, I don’t just fuck whoever and I think that bugs my friends. My two best friends who would bring guys to my apartment and fuck them while I was watching television or doing homework and they would do this right in front of me. Needless to say I have seen almost every inch of my friends, maybe that is why we remain so close. If they ever knew I had a lot of pictures of them they might just up and leave my ass.

I made a decision right then and right there, I was not leaving the United States a virgin and that magic was going to happen this weekend even if I had to knock some guy out and do it myself. Surely he wouldn’t mind waking up realizing he just had his brains fucked out by a total wacked out stranger. I will leave that as a last resort. I let my friends in on my little secret and they, of course, decided to go absolutely nuts with it. I wasn’t looking for commitment and I wasn’t looking for a phone call the following day, I just didn’t want to get shipped off to the other side of the world a virgin. We kept drinking well into the night, stopping only to eat and pee every once in a while. My friends noticed that the bartender had been “checking” me out so I decided to play with his heads a bit and see what I could start. This time I knew I was going to start it and I was going to finish it, period. Lookout blue eyes because here I come. First I decided I would switch spots with one of my friends so I could be facing the bartender and he could get a good view of the show that was about to start. Before long I found myself doing a little flash here and there. When I would do it I could see him looking like he wasn’t looking but he always made sure he was in a spot where he had the full unobstructed view of what I was doing and what I was playing with. At 2 in the morning everyone had cleared out, to include my girl friends. It was just me and the bartender. He kept hinting that the bar was closed and he would like to clean up so he could go home. But I wasn’t done dammit. He gave me permission to hang out while he tidied up and then he caught me staring at him and I was busted. I think he knew I was already fucking him in my daydream. He asked if there was anything else he could do for me before he escorted me out so he could lock up. It was now or never, he wasn’t going anywhere. I stood up as I stared him down behind the bar while I untied my bikini top first, followed by my bottoms. I stood there in the buff for a few moments before heading to the bar. I wanted to get there before he had a chance to tell me he was married or had a girlfriend which would make all I did just be make a fool of myself. I climbed up onto the bar, laid back, and placed my legs up around his neck and demand he not say a word until I was done with him. I gave only one instruction to that bartender, I told him he had better fuck me so hard I even forget my own name because I am leaving the country in a few days and want this to be what I remembered.

I really wish I could remember how it all went. I know that when I woke up the following afternoon I was sore everywhere a person could be sore. I know that he did what I asked because I noticed a little bit of him was dripping down my legs still, as well as his juices were all over me, including on my forehead and in my hair. My friends were curious to how many guys or how many times I had a go at it. All I told them is that it was my dirty little secret. Funny, he left me a note with his phone number saying to look him up when I get back and maybe we can go out for dinner. How sweet. So, I did it, I will not be leaving the country a virgin after all.”

Now, since receiving this email I have actually spoken to her on the phone and gave her some “insight” about the ins and outs of being at Osan AB. Also, I have some long time friends that live there still after they retired so I passed that information on to her as well. Meanwhile I called one of them to let him know what to expect and to take care of my new friend. This actually happened about 2 weeks ago but I have been busy here re-working my new blog and have just now been able to get to writing it. She is gone now, arrived safely in Osan and from what I have heard she is fitting in nicely. She promises to send me more stories if she has any weekends that become memorable. I know I will hear from her and then so will y’all. For sure Jill has fulfilled one of the five categories and that qualifies her to be here because it has been one of the better Sex stories I have heard in quite some time.

IYAAYAS

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