Thursday, 24 July 2025

Venez Mil

 


Venez Mil

In the military area in Venezuela. This could be classed as the entire country but in reality it was just one large zone. There were a dozen bases and facilities. Some were only reachable by air, others by road or sea. Venez was a massive country. Frank was there for a while and did many missions. At times he left and then returned. This was for debriefing or extra training. There were times when he was meant to return and was stuck in situ. For example, when the weather went bad or enemy patrols were looking for him. He always escaped for he was Frank. It was as simple as that. When people asked how he did it, he replied by the will of God and his training. No more no less.

 

Frank's greatest attribute was his patience. Like when learning a difficult topic or waiting for an enemy to come on by. Wait and results will be given. All in good time. Like waiting to get over Amy or back with her. What would she think of the military area in Venezuela? So much went on there. Their army guarded many labs and production facilities. You know what they made. It wasn’t shoes.

 

Venez was like Vietnam. Many soldiers remembered 'Nam. Less remembered Venez for far fewer had been deployed there. They were SpecFor, Special Forces. Not normal squaddies holding the line. There was no line. The enemy battle area was all of Venez and neighbouring nations. Frank had gone over the border into Columbia six times. It wasn’t delineated. The jungle was the jungle.

 

One day he would write a book about it. Use a different name and tell the world of this ongoing secret war. What would his dear Amy think? Of all of it. He would deal with his PTSD and get to tell a unique story. Events from the nation called Venezuela. A number of their nationals and others were with spirit due to Frank. How close it came to him being there…

***

 

Sunday, 20 July 2025

call centre boredom

Call Centre Boredom
Riga once saw an erotic act in the call centre where she worked. Two co-workers were getting it on. They were fucking by the fire escape. Some other reps were there smoking. They watched or ignored the couple. One filmed it and some took photos. Others joked and laughed about it. One said it was the best stress reliever there was next to drinking. Riga ignored the crowd and watched. The red haired gal was leaning on the rail. The dark haired guy took her from behind while standing. He had to bend his knees as he thrust up into the gal. Her eyes were shut and she gasped as his cock went in and out of her pussy. He called her name under his breath. It was a good show. They had already started when Riga discovered them. People were on lunch, break or skiving. It was Friday and the call volume were low plus the weekend vibe was here. It definitely was with these two! The guy fumbled with her breasts and felt her legs. These were shapely and long. He rubbed her thighs and squeezed them hard. His other hand felt her breast. He was almost coming. So was she. He said her name louder and she begged him not to stop and go faster. Their actions were wonderful to observe. Riga was starting to get horny herself. She would go to the toilets to play after they’d done. Both came and gasped moaned and groaned. It took a while for their orgasm to subside. He came inside her bareback! She took some tissue from her small bag and put it inside her panties then straightened her skirt. He fastened his jeans. They embraced and kissed. She said thank you and see you later. Both went separately to their production floors. The show was over. Riga went straight to the women’s toilets. She was so horny now! It made her day seeing that. She would call up Zakk and fuck him later! Ex or not. He would like hearing of this.
***

Thursday, 17 July 2025

In Albania

 

 


In Albania

Frank spent three months living in Albania once. He stayed with his friend. His friend was a gangster and dealt with ‘fake’ money made with a stolen press. The quality of the money was equal to that produced in the official government mint. That was where the machine was from. Frank helped his friend out while there. Being an ex soldier, he knew how to secure a building or check for threats or plan a route to safely move the money. Frank dressed like his friend. Never too flashy or too scruffy. No unwanted attention would be brought then. His friend was aware of who knew what. It was impossible to keep it secret. Money bought silence. Those who did grass were dealt with. Frank eradicated a rival who tried grassing to the cops. The cops were bought by Frank’s mate so it was no issue. It was the cops who delivered the grass to Frank and his friend. The grass was very surprised but half expected it. He took what was coming like a man. Never fought back, tried to escape or make a scene. They took him to a secluded forest with an area for executions and graves. All three men shared cigarettes. Frank asked the man if he had any last words. The man said tell his brother to take care of his wife and daughter. It was over quickly and the grass didn’t suffer. Two shots in the face took away his identity and life. He fell forwards flat out dead. They removed his watch, belt and shoes. Those were expensive items. He was buried six feet below. Later, back in the city Frank and his mate drank heavily. They toasted to a job well done and to the dead man. Even though he was a grass they remembered him. He’d done the wrong thing and had to pay the price. It was that simple. His family would be bought off so there would be no blood feud. Business was business and there were rules to follow. Frank did other things in Albania. He fucked the best prostitutes in Tirana, went hiking on Albania’s highest and best peaks, explored old military tunnels still full of decaying Soviet Mig fighter jets, and scratched his head at the many small concrete gun bunkers that dotted the landscape. His three months in Albania was constructive, informative and paid well. Frank promised his friend to return in future.

***

 

Friday, 11 July 2025

Understanding

 

 

 

 

Understanding

Frank knew that both he and Amy were type cast in their roles. He was the wounded soldier with PTSD and she was the understanding but struggling girlfriend/ex girlfriend. She really tried her best to support him and be there. By being there she endured her own Hell. That of hearing his stories, feelings and experiences. He was reliving and re-acting them. Amy had never seen a man cry before. A powerful strong muscular one like Frank. She knew he was proud of his service but fought strong demons. The price of what he'd done in the jungles of Venezuela. She wondered how he would be if he never went there? Would they still be together or would some mundane issue ruin their relationship? He wasn’t one for cheating or abusing women. He was quiet and thoughtful. His sensitivity was what added to his troubles. He dwelled on things. She taught him this wasn't a good way. He needed to understand and move on after processing all the events. Frank had seen a specialist several times. Amy had been there. They were raw meetings. It all came out. More than he told her. Afterwards he was calm like he was free. But it came back in cycles. Different things setting it off. In time this pushed Amy away. She put up walls to protect her own sanity and became distant. Then she silently left one day. Frank still messaged her but rarely got a reply. Like being in the jungles he was alone again. His service pistol was on the small bedside table. It was loaded. Always there always ready. Like he was. Frank the soldier. In his small rented room near the bar. He had to go to work. Not think about the killing or death.

***