This is part 6 of a long 8-part story that builds while providing plenty of plot twists. Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is, a fu⁶n story. Special thanks to rancher46 and RF-Fast for editing my story.
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Chapter 23 -- Earth-24
We all wake up, stretch, kiss each other good morning, and then all but Carla and I file out the door to their own rooms, still naked. We shower, dress up and then meet the others for breakfast. We have Katrina's breakfast today. It seems like just yesterday we had this.
The talk is lively today. Everyone had fun last night getting stuffed three, or was it four times. Whatever the number, it was a ton of sex. I dislike the planets that use the Earth name. The number is supposed to be the planet number in the solar system. The Earth planets were early settlers. This was the twenty-fourth planet colonized by Earth. When other planets support life, they add a letter after the number. Zero originality. However, it is better than Smith-3, Mohammed-2, Patel-5, and Wang-6.
Earth-24 is known for its enormous mountain ranges. These are tall mountains that range from gentle slopes to steep slopes. Away from the equator, there is much more snow. At this time of year, the southern hemisphere has fresh snow.
None of us are experts other than Vanessa. We all know how to downhill and cross-country ski. Several Marines are expert skiers and will help us stay safe and keep us away from anything dangerous. We have six Marines assigned to us for today. They meet us for breakfast and are blown away by our menu. We are in life suits, just in case of an avalanche. I suspect it wouldn't matter, but I keep my mouth shut. The fewer people who know, the safer it is for us.
We all go in one shuttle. There are about a hundred other Marines already there. Half will go in front of us and a half behind us. We wait in line for the lift to take us up the mountain. I know this planet has the cool lifts that are hundreds of feet up in the air. We get the ones where a rope pulls us up the mountain, skis on the ground. Far less dangerous for us, but it is harder on the legs. Still, it beats walking.
The runs are so long, we only get two runs in before lunch. The countryside is breathtaking. Snow had fallen the night before. The tiny white flakes are still on the branches and pine trees as we ski by. We were going at a medium pace so that we can see everything. Our suits kept us warm initially and then cool as we worked up a sweat. That made it much more fun. Otherwise, you're too cold in the morning and too hot in the afternoon. The entire resort is reserved for us. To say thanks to the Marines, they have lunch on the slopes and will have dinner with us.
Carla's mom was there for the breakfast competition and what the daughters made. She was also given the recipe blueprints for her replicators. Since she knows her daughter's schedule, she sent directions to the resort for making lunch and dinner. We are expecting burgers and sandwiches on the menu. There is no menu today.
Three Marines stand up from their table. They click their boots together precisely at the same time. In unison, they turn on their heels, so they are facing us. In unison, they march to us, stop with a clicking of the steel heels together, salute, and then arms down.
I have no doubt that the one in the middle is a bit older and has more ribbons on her chest for doing something brave. There is no smile on her face. She almost shouts when she addresses us so that everyone knows what she says. All eyes are on her.
The Sergeant-Major bows first to Carla, salutes me, then shouts, "Princess Carla. Mam! Your mother liked the wedding day breakfast so much, she has surprised you with today's lunch. The Marines have a vegetarian option if they prefer. Your mother's exact words for your party, 'Bon appetite.' For the Marines, LUNCH IS SERVED YOU FILTHY MAGGOTS!"
She smiles, salutes, then they three-click their heels, turn on their heels, and then march back to their chairs.
The Marines reply as one, "Oorah!"
The servers bring out large carts with four huge plates on each. They will need to make many trips as they don't have enough carts. A few dishes are brought out by hand, one dish per server to speed up the delivery. I like that, efficiency.
Sitting on each plate is a re-creation of the beautiful lodge next to a mountain. The mountain is a hollowed-out pineapple. It has thin walls with a lovely fruity drink inside. It's astonishing how good it is. The lodge is made with wafers. The server takes a small mallet and shatters the roof. The roof is actually a bunch of croutons for a Caesar salad and French onion soup.
I have never had a Caesar salad like that. It's like the lettuce was just picked, yet it's wilted. The taste was enhanced somehow. The dressing and croutons are both powerfully flavored. The French onion soup is sexy. It has several layers of flavor. In this case they are subtle, nothing overpowering here.
When we finish the soup and salad, the plate is removed, and another plate is placed. This is a small plate with a very unassuming grilled ham and cheese sandwich. It looks like two pieces of white bread that were buttered by a child, and then a bit of ham and two slices of cheese are placed over and under the ham. It looks like an afterthought.
Everyone is looking at it. Some take a fork and poke it. Because the ham is thick, I use a fork and knife to cut a corner off and spear it with my fork. I turn it around and place it in my mouth. I am amazed that my eyes did not pop out of my head.
The bread is a delicate sourdough, with garlic butter and grilled on both sides. The ham is spiral sliced and baked in a sweet cinnamon and maple glaze. The cheese is a lattice of cheeses with a small amount of goat cheese, gorgonzola, cheddar, and at least two others. The cheese melts in your mouth and explodes with flavor.
I hear "wow," giggling and loud talking throughout the room. That was an ordinary-looking sandwich with an extraordinary taste. That meal is a home run.
After lunch, we get dressed, and it's back to the mountain to do some more skiing. We are stepping it up a level in difficulty this time but will take it slower. We stop going slower by the third and final run and take the slopes with an average speed. We're no daredevils, but it was a lot more fun. We're exhausted again.
We were active all day. We each have a room to take a shower and freshen up before dinner with the small bag we brought with our personal items along with a change of clothes. Right now, we smell like a damp locker room.
On walking into my room, I am startled to see a Marine standing at attention. She relaxes as I walk into the room.
She introduces herself, "I am Sergeant Major Meg Jackson. My orders are to verify nobody tampers with you, your room, or your personal belongings. You have one hour before dinner will be ready. Your wife already changed that to ninety minutes. I will help you undress, shower, and then get dressed again.
"Some Marines hate men. Many are indifferent; they haven't met one before. Some, like me, are curious. I was the highest-ranking officer here and pulled rank to get you. I know you're not a man to be trifled with, yet you have shown tremendous compassion, as evident by how you handled Trudy. Looking at your life, I can see what the others see in you. You aren't a predator; you're confident. I also understand you are smart and play chess. Someday I would like to test you. I am the armed forces chess champion for four years running."
When I start to take my shirt off, she swats my hand and says, "Pawn, b2 to b3."
Ooh, I like this girl. While she relieves me of my clothes, we bark out moves while each has a game board in our head. In just a few seconds, her uniform is on a table. She is standing in front of me. Like many women on her planet, she is like Carla and her sisters. We are still calling out moves.
