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Synopsis: Newly widowed Army Captain Rossalind Donaldson returns home for her husband's funeral.The Donaldson's are incensed at the Captain bacause right before their son was killed, he found out she was behaving like a slut at her posting.I'm Captain Rosalind Arnold Donaldson currently assigned to a field hospital in Kuwait. But at the moment, I was dressed in a short black knit dress, way too short for a respectable widow to wear to her husband's wake.

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Denise was Robbie's wife and a former Marine who'd resigned her commission five years ago in order to commence pumping out babies to carry on the Donaldson line. There were three little Donaldson's at home being cared for by the nanny.There were six of us seated in the back of the stretch limousine: my father-in-law, Brigadier General Gable M.Donaldson and his wife, Lois, my aforementioned brother-in-law and his wife and Mary Ellen, my dead husband's younger sister now in her fourth year at West Point.They were watching me being abused as a prelude to entering Morrosco's Funeral Home in Melrose, Massachusetts for their son's wake. Donaldson had been traveling through the streets of Kabul when a mine had exploded under his Humvee.When my mouth opened, he shoved his tongue inside all the while twisting my dugs to within a millimeter of separating from my tits.

To this day I can recall the pain in my breasts and feel my cunt get wet.Trace and his driver were killed instantly according to the letter I got from his commander. The Humvee had burned and several pieces of ordinance had exploded inside the cab.My guess would be that the coffin contained a blend of both Trace and the driver.The Donaldson's were regular army to the core and then some. Pictures of Donaldson's killed in combat lined the grand staircase of the family mansion.British bayonets had gutted a Uriah Donaldson at Bunker Hill.Major Clement Donaldson had ended his days at Chickamauga, supposedly standing beside General Thomas, the Rock of Chickamauga until a mini-ball took off part of his skull.