Crash-n-Burn Ch. 05

***

RANGE

It had taken some time, but I had managed to register the firearms we had picked up in Algonquin. When I had talked to Estelle's father, I had said the guns had been found at the cottage of 'my friend's grandfather'. My father's maternal grandfather had died a couple months before the camping trip, and we had talked to his wife -- who was also Mom's aunt -- right after returning home. (Mom was the first cousin of Dad's mother, though she was more than twenty years younger. Mom and Dad had first met at a family get-together, but that's another story.) Once we gave her the basic story, my great-grandmother made us come to visit, bringing the two guns with us (and Estelle, of course). Then, she had 'found' them in her husband's things and asked the executor of his estate to take possession of them and process the registrations until they could be legally transferred; Grannie didn't hesitate for a second to sign off on the blatant lie. Only one of her daughters was still alive, my grandmother. Great-grandma had lost track of her late second daughter's children, and my father had been convicted of an assault a couple years before, so he wouldn't be able to get a firearms license. That left me as the only eligible heir for the guns. Of course, I was aware of all this when I had talked to Brian. Once I got my license, they were legally transferred to me.

In mid-April, I was able to take possession of the two guns and bring them home. Of course, Canada has strict requirements for transport and storage, so Mom purchased a small gun safe that we installed in the basement. I had joined a gun club just outside Hamilton early in the year, and had taken the firearms safety courses there. When I finally had the guns, I decided it was time to try them out.

The next Saturday morning, I knocked on Estelle's door frame. "Hey, you have any plans today?"

She was wearing a halter top and shorts that hid nothing. She turned over and smiled. "Well, nothing that would take me out of the house."

"How would you like to go shooting with me?"

Her smile disappeared. "What?"

"Well, you know that I was given a couple guns from my great-grandfather's estate. I wondered if you wanted to come to the range with me."

She looked at me for a while before answering. "What did my father say to you at Christmas?"

"Uh, about what?"

"About me," she nearly shouted.

I stepped into the room, sitting next to her on the bed. "Stelle, he didn't say anything about you, except to make sure that I didn't hurt you. He told me that he would not say anything about why you left Angus."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm over-reacting."

I took her hand gently. "Estelle, if it would help, I'm willing to listen. But it's up to you if you feel you can share anything with me. Right now, I just wanted to know if you would like to join me at the gun club."

She looked up at me with a tiny smile, blue eyes peering through a blonde fringe. "Yeah, I think I would. I'll need some gear, though. Can we stop at a gun shop on the way?"

"They've got glasses and earmuffs you can borrow."

She made a face. "Ew, gross. No, I need my own stuff. When did you want to go?"

"Whenever you're ready."

She was already pulling the Tinkerbell bun out of her hair. "Give me twenty minutes. Be down when I'm done."

I took the hint and left, going to the basement where we'd set up the gun safe in a locked room. That was a bit of overkill, but it made Mom more comfortable. It took me about five minutes to pack up what I needed, and I was sipping a coffee when Estelle came down from her room. She was wearing very conservative clothes. Her long-sleeved cotton shirt was buttoned up to the neck, and she had on a loose pair of jeans I'd never seen her wear before. The clothes seemed comfortable, but showed very little of her slender shape.

"There's coffee ready if you want," I said.

"No. I don't want to drink caffeine before shooting."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you been shooting before?"

She just smiled. "Ready?"

"Sure. You grab the range bag. It's got the ammo."

I had already cleared borrowing the van with Mom. The drive to the range took less than half an hour, but Estelle didn't want to talk. She did, however, want to hold my hand as much as possible, so I wasn't complaining. We stopped at a gun shop that was on the way, and she led the way inside. After a quick glance around, Estelle selected a pair of low-profile earmuffs and shooting glasses with replaceable lenses in different colours.

"How many rounds do you have?" she asked.

"About a box each of twenty-two and forty-five."

"Get a bulk box of the rimfire. Federal Champion in the blue box will be fine. It's a standard-velocity round and won't bang up the gun. Once you're familiar with it you can see if high-velocity ammo makes any difference. You'll probably want at least another hundred rounds of forty-five."

I looked at her, but she just smiled again. I turned to the clerk. "All right. A five-hundred-round box of Federal Champion and two boxes of .45 ACP."

He placed a blue box on the counter. "Which forty-five? We have several brands."

I glanced at the selection. "Uh, the Winchester 230 grain will be fine. Oh, do you take debit?"

"Yes, we do." A pair of white boxes were added to the stack. "Anything else?"

"The ear muffs and glasses, that's all."

Estelle tossed a royal blue ball cap with the 'Colt' script on the counter. "This too."

He asked to see my license and recorded my information in a book, which he then locked under the counter. When he rang up the bill, it was a bit higher than I had anticipated. I glanced at Estelle, but she just gave me an innocent smile.

"You seemed to know exactly what you wanted in there," I said once we were on the road.

"I've done my research."

"Uh, huh. Why do I get the feeling you know more than you've let on?"

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then pulled on the new hat, drawing her ponytail out the back. "Baby, I know a lot more than I've let on."

When we got to the gun club, I signed her in as a guest. It wasn't too busy, and we were able to get a spot on the handgun range immediately. The nice thing about the twenty-two was that the rifle could be used on the handgun range. The Colt would do more damage to the backstop than the AR-7.

We actually took two spaces next to each other on the bench. I placed the rifle on one, and the Colt on the other. We decided to each fire ten rounds from the rifle before trying the handgun. I went first, getting what I thought was a good pattern. Then Estelle took her turn. As soon as she lifted the gun to her shoulder, her entire demeanor changed. The rifle seemed to become a part of her, and her elbow locked into her side as if it was nailed in place. Her face lost all emotion, and her eyes locked on the target. I could actually see her pause her breathing for each shot, her finger pressing the trigger smoothly, without any visible wavering of the muzzle. She waited for nearly two seconds after each shot before releasing the trigger, but still managed to run through her ten rounds faster than me. When she was done, she pulled the empty magazine clear and visually checked the gun was empty before placing it on the bench.

"Wow," I said. "You've done this before."

"Yeah," she replied in a soft voice. "Once or twice."

When the range went green, we put up fresh targets. Looking at our groupings as we walked back, I was pleased that nearly all of my shots were in the black -- until I saw her target. Not only were hers all in the black, they made a single ragged hole in the very centre. None of her shots had broken the 10-ring line.

"Damn, girl. You can shoot."

She gave me a brilliant smile. "I want to try the Colt."

"Okay. But, me first." I put my arm around her briefly. "Let me know if I'm making any mistakes."

We replaced our eye and ear protection as the range went red, and I picked up the 1911. Shooting the pistol was completely different from the rifle. Different stance, different manner of holding the gun. And there was also much, much more recoil. With the rifle, there was almost no felt recoil at all. The forty-five made sure that you knew full well when it went off. On the bright side, the holes were big enough that I could see them in the paper at twenty-five yards. Unfortunately, I could also see that they were spread all over the target.

Estelle didn't say anything before taking her turn. I could see that she wasn't quite as familiar with the handgun stance. This time, she had to concentrate on putting herself in the right posture. The first shot seemed to shock her a bit, but she took a deep breath and continued on. Other than the first shot, everything seemed to be in or next to the black. When we retrieved our targets, I confirmed it. She had shot better with the handgun that I had with the rifle.

We each shot a few more targets, both with the rifle and the pistol, before heading outside. There were several outdoor ranges, and we went to the 100-yard rifle range. It was deserted, so we each set up several targets before walking back to the shooting line.

"We can do this all from the bench, if you want," Estell offered.

"What's the difference?"

"Well, we can sit at the bench and use a rest, or lie on the ground. It's still a bit too cool out here for that. Or, we can shoot offhand standing, like we did inside. It's best to shoot a couple groups off a rest first to get a feel for the gun. You can go to prone or offhand later."

"Okay, show me."

Estelle winked and sat at the bench. She spent some time adjusting the rest to suit her, then loaded a magazine. Despite the different position, lifting the rifle to her shoulder resulted in the same transformation I had seen inside. Estelle seemed to be a different person when she was shooting. Usually, she was happy, easygoing and fun. When she was holding a gun, she looked like an emotionless robot.

I couldn't see the holes at a hundred yards with my bare eye, but there was a club spotting scope there. That allowed me to watch as she took her shots. The pattern was spread out, but not as much as I had expected. She was keeping her shots within the same area at a hundred yards as she had done with the forty-five at a quarter that distance. When she was done, she cleared the rifle and looked at me with a smile.

"Your turn."

I lightly slapped her butt as she moved past me. "You're just trying to embarrass me."

She laughed. "Oh, no. If you're embarrassed, it's all on you, babe."

I picked up the rifle without loading it, getting the feel for the shooting position. It was completely different from standing, and I tried to get comfortable. The rest didn't feel right, though.

"Let me adjust that for you," Estelle said.

She played with the height, then motioned me to try again. This time, it felt about right.

"Thanks."

"No problem." She watched me as I looked down the sights. "What are you focusing on?"

"The target."

"Don't. Instead, focus on your front sight. Look at the target to determine your point of aim, then put all of your focus on the front sight. Hold that exactly where you want to hit."

"Okay."

I did what she told me, or at least, I tried to. I still found myself trying to look at the target. Estelle insisted that I shoot the rest of the targets before we checked them, refusing to tell me where I was hitting. She just told me to keep shooting at the centre of the target. When we retrieved the targets, she pointed out my progression. She didn't mention her target, but I had already seen it in the scope.

"So, your first target wasn't too good. You got eight on paper, and they were all over. But you're centred pretty well, all in all. The next few targets each got a bit better than the last, except for the last one. I think that you're about focussed out for one day. But, you're already improving. We can work on it again next week."

I just stared at her. "Stelle, where did you learn to shoot?"

She gave me a little smile. "Babe, my daddy's an MP and I grew up on military bases. Why are you surprised that I know how to shoot?"

"No -- you don't just know how to shoot. You're an amazing shot. You picked up a rifle you'd never touched before and put ten shots into a ragged hole."

She made a rude noise. "Yeah, at twenty-five yards."

"Right, and then you got everything inside the eight-ring at a hundred. Darling, you're pretty damned close to being an expert."

Estelle shrugged, but didn't really look pleased. "I've shot a lot of twenty-two. I don't know if I'd call myself an expert."

"Really? Because the instructor for the club safety course couldn't get ten rounds in a group this small using a rifle he's owned for thirty years. You're damned good, Stelle; you could shoot competitively."

"Can we just drop it? I've had enough shooting for today." She shook her head, tossing off her frown and smiling at me. "Why don't we go home and I'll show you how bad I can be?"

I was about to say something more, but she just looked at me and I kept quiet. Neither of us spoke as we cased the guns and packed up the remaining ammo. Once in the van, Estelle turned up the radio and started singing along with whatever was playing. She didn't always know the words, but that didn't stop her.

Mom was waiting when we got home.

"Good, you're back. I got a call from your Grandma King, asking me to come over."

"Will Dad be there, and when do we have to leave?"

"No, he won't be. And you get to stay here. My cousin just wants to talk to me."

"Oh, okay. Any idea what about?"

She smiled. "Oh, I'm sure she just wants to get a look at me now that she's heard I'm pregnant again. She'll be wanting to gossip a bit, too."

As Mom predicted, Estelle had accepted her decision to have the baby, despite the circumstances. My mother had been showing her baby bump for a few weeks now, and she was at the point that she couldn't really hide it easily any more. Not that I saw that as a problem. I had recently noticed that her breasts had gotten a bit bigger. Not a lot, but they were fuller and firmer than before. I had also noticed Estelle stealing jealous glances at her chest from time to time, and always made sure to tell her how much I loved her body when we were alone.

After mom left, Estelle followed me downstairs as I put the guns and gear away. She just leaned against the door jamb while I opened the safe and locked the firearms inside. I had a separate cabinet for the ammunition, locked with its own key. That was something that Mom had insisted on. When I turned back to Estelle, her shirt was all but undone. She had pulled it from her pants and no more than two buttons remained secured. Her pale skin peeked out from behind the soft cloth.

"Oh, nice. You really are gorgeous, Stelle."

"Really? I was thinking that Aunt Maisie's breasts look a lot nice, especially now that she's preggers."

I pulled her into my arms, kissing her soundly. "Babe, it's true that Mom has nice breasts. You might even say they're very nice now that she's pregnant. But, you are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. And, I really like your cute, little tits."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No way. I'm crazy for small breasts, and yours are just about the perfect size."

She grinned. "Would you like to see a bit more of them?"

"Would I ever."

I don't recall touching the stairs as we went up to her room. Estelle was in my arms the moment we were on the second floor, and she wasted no time leading me to her bed. She got me out of my clothes, then let me remove hers. I picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, dropping between her legs and diving into her pussy. She had not shaved in a while, and there was a thin layer of soft, nearly invisible blonde stubble over her pubic mound. But, she was obviously already aroused. Her sweet pink pussy was swollen and hot. Sticky fluid dripped out of her, running down between her ass cheeks. I let my tongue delve a bit deeper to catch her fluids. Estelle moaned and shook as I licked her, occasionally squeezing my head with her legs. I moved my tongue up, pressing flat against her clit as I slipped a finger inside her pussy, slowly entering her. She moaned softly until I started pulling it back out. The pad of my finger rubbed across the front wall of her vagina, and Estelle jerked like she had been shocked. I pushed in a second finger and rubbed on that sensitive area. She started to cry out, her hips bucking under me. I added the stimulation of my tongue, lapping across the hard nub of her clit. Estelle screamed with an orgasm, and a gush of warm fluid spread down my hand. I pulled my fingers out and lapped up her sweet and musky juices.

"Come here," Estelle said, pulling my head up.

I allowed her to guide my face to hers, kissing her deeply and thrusting my tongue into her mouth. Her hips lifted against mine, and my cock slid between her lips, not quite entering her pussy. She squeezed her legs against my hips, freezing my motion.

"No! Not without a rubber."

"Got one?"

She reached over to her night table, pulling out s foil square. "Here. Slip it on and fuck me, babe."

I quickly did as she requested, sliding my now-wrapped cock into her hot tunnel.

"Ohh, damn! That is so good," she moaned. "I love your cock, Cole."

"And I love your sweet pussy, Stelle."

As I picked up the pace of my thrusts, neither one of us could speak. I was soon coming, filling the condom with my seed.

"Keep going," she pleaded. "I'm so close..."

I lifted my body off her chest, pounding into her cunt as hard as I could. I moved one hand up, rubbing and twisting her breasts, pinching her nipples. She started moaning, the pitch rising with the volume. Pulling her legs back, Estelle opened herself for me. I could feel my cock starting to soften, but I gave her as much as I could, hammering my hips against her ass and thighs. She went rigid, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed. Her pussy wrapped my cock in a tight grip, holding me in place. Her scream finally ended as her body relaxed back to the bed, and she opened her blue eyes to look at me.

"Thanks, babe. That was awesome."

I leaned forward to give her a gentle kiss. "Oh, it was definitely my pleasure, Stelle. Any time you want more, you know where to find me."

She pulled me down, hugging me tightly. "Yeah, but we need to get our doors back before this becomes a regular thing. And, I'm going to need to get on the pill soon. I want to feel you without the condom."

"Now, that sounds like a great idea, lover."

"Yeah, I know," she whispered. "I'm full of great ideas."

Her voice faded away, and I realized that she had fallen asleep. I let my limp cock slip out and lay down next to her. I figured I had a couple hours before Mom came home, so there was plenty of time for a nap. Rolling her onto my shoulder, I was asleep in seconds.

***

TWO-FOUR

It was the Friday leading into the Victoria Day weekend -- May Two-Four. For many people, Victoria Day was a confusing holiday. We called it the Two-Four weekend, but this year it was on May 18th. Victoria Day was the Monday on or before May 24. This year, the 24th was Sunday, so the holiday was earlier than usual.

This weekend was the unofficial start of summer in Canada, and the de facto beginning of the planting season. In southern Ontario, it was common knowledge that plants which did not tolerate frost could not safely be planted before the Victoria Day weekend. As manager of the City of Hamilton's Gage Park Tropical Greenhouse, my mother was fully aware of this. Most of her work for the year was concentrated in the months leading up to Victoria Day, and she actually had a bit of down time now. The plans for the spring, summer and autumn displays for the various city properties had been finalized, the schedule of flowers and shrubs to be transplanted communicated to the gardeners. The Gage Park gardeners provided nearly every plant display for the properties owned by the city, including municipal buildings, various park displays and flowers on traffic islands and medians. The first crop was now ready to be moved outdoors, but that was not my mother's responsibility -- other than ensuring that her people had everything ready to go out. Those who actually did the work on the grounds of Gage Park and the other City properties were going to be busy for the next few weeks, but Mom would only have to get involved if there was a significant problem with the plants. Therefore, she and a bunch of co-workers had planned a celebratory night out, and she would not be home until very late -- or early, depending how you looked at it. Mom didn't often go out with those she supervised, but this was an annual event a big for them as Christmas.