Usually I love driving. You see so much from the cockpit of a motor coach. I have traveled to 49 of the states and Canada, saw some beautiful scenery and even witnessed the sight of bare female flesh from passing cars. My wife and I had bought this converted tour bus used and had just finished rebuilding the inside, preparing to pull up stakes and travel. It had always been a dream to see the country, and after we had sold the business, we had the funds to make that dream possible.
But I was traveling alone. My wife had passed away a year ago. We had pulled into a campground outside of Orlando. Kris decided that we needed some supplies so she and I walked to a local store. Making our selections, we headed to the checkout, chatting happily about going to Universal Studios the next day.
That is when all hell broke loose. Two men walked in waving guns in the air, demanding all the money in the registers. An off duty policeman confronted them and one of the robbers fired. The cop returned fire striking the robber in the left side. As the robber fell his gun discharged, hitting Kris in the chest. She collapsed into me. It seemed that time slowed to a crawl as Kris fell back against me, a red spot spreading across the center of her Light yellow blouse. Sinking to the floor beside her, I held her head in my lap as the rest of the scene played out. The second robber decided that surrender would be the best idea, and put himself on the floor spread eagle.
By then the place was swarming with police and ambulance personnel. My darling wife was taken to a trauma center 15 miles away. The doctors worked on her but the bullet had struck a rib and tumbled, causing extensive damage. She died during surgery.
The funeral was held in our hometown. I am not sure how I made it back there. I vaguely remember when the lid of her casket was lowered. I knew then that my soul mate was gone from me forever. I stayed with friends for a while, but decided that I would rather be on the road.
Which is how I found myself climbing up Wolf Creek Pass. I had fueled up in South Fork on Highway 160 headed south. I had just started up the pass when it started to snow. I had driven this route before many times, but this was the first time when it was snowing this hard this late in the year. Tricky even in the best of conditions, snow and ice could make it almost impassible.
Before long, there was snow collecting on the side of the road. There was some slush on the roadbed itself, but it wasn't causing any problems. But the snowfall was getting heavier and I was beginning to get concerned. Still there was nothing to do but push on.
It was getting toward evening but you could only tell by the chronograph that was in the dash. Looking out the windshield you could see little except the large snowflakes. They were reflecting the brightness of the headlights, making a curtain of brilliance in front of the coach. There was no opposing traffic, which could only mean that the state patrol had closed the pass. I remembered that there was a pull-off midway to the summit. If I could make it there, I could pull in and wait the storm out. Propane tanks were full, the generator was working fine, and I had plenty of food and water aboard.
I could feel the drive wheels starting to lose traction just before the sign announcing the pull off appeared. I gingerly maneuvered into the area parking against the wind. This would keep the exhaust pretty well cleared. I slumped down in the drivers seat exhausted. After resting a bit, I moved to the back and started up the heaters and the generator. It would soon be toasty inside the coach. I tried to get something on the CB and the radio, but it was a lost cause. At least I wouldn't freeze and they would have the pass open in a day or two. I settled in for the duration.
I had just set my book down with thoughts of cooking a bite to eat. The wind was picking up and I could feel the bus rock back and forth a bit. The wind was also driving the ice crystals into the metal sides making a sound that reminded you of sand being dropped onto a drum. But there is a different sound. A tapping sound that was not in the rhythm of the storm's song.
Moving to the front of the bus, I heard it more distinctly, someone or something was rapping on the door. I couldn't see anything in the sea of swirling white. Friend or foe I was not sure, but I could not in good conscience leave whomever it was to the certainty of freezing to death.
I opened the door to find a huddled figure leaning against the side. It was bent nearly double in it's attempt to keep the snow from buffeting it even more than it already was. I reached out and touched the shoulder and then grabbed the jacket to bring it inside, along with whoever was inside of it.
Once inside and out of the wind the figure stood upright. At full height she (for now I could see her face) was not much over five feet tall. Her age I would guess to be about half of my own 45 years. Her face was red from the cold. Her blonde hair, stiff from being frozen, started to thaw and drip the moisture onto her jacket. All in all she looked very cold and a little scared.
"Why don't you shed your coat and sit by this heater, I will make you some tea and see if we can't get you warmed up." I was talking as much to let her know I meant no harm as to reassure myself that this was happening.
It took a few minutes to pull enough energy reserves to shed the coat she was wearing. As if took what she had left, she slid down until she was sitting on the step. I heated some water and did make her a cup of tea. She stayed where she was, just holding the cup in both shaking hands.
It took several minutes until she would even raise her head. Though still chilled to the bone, she at least smiled and thanked me. I wasn't sure if her voice was affected by the weather, or if it was normal but the tones that issued were deeper than I expect from a body so petite. She continued to tell of her reason for being out in the snow as she slipped off the ski pants she had on, along with the bulky sweater. She was now sitting on the couch in a pair of spandex pants and a smooth silver top.
She said that her boyfriend had convinced her to go to the Wolf Creek ski area for the Thanksgiving weekend. They had made it over the pass after noon yesterday. The car started to cough and die out and they nursed it to this pull off. Her boyfriend Nigel had hitched a ride back over the pass to Pagosa Springs and was supposed to come back with help. Spending a long cold night in the car, she had waited patiently until the snow started falling. She had seen my headlights in the rear window of her car, but had resigned to staying where she was. The cold finally forced her to seek the vehicle that had pulled in.
By now I had some soup warmed up and handed her a bowl. She drank that plus a sandwich that was offered. Finally, with her hunger sated, we started talking about why I happened to be here.
It must have been an hour or more and we were chatting like old friends. She was beginning to yawn and I was feeling the weariness of the day as well. I pulled a comforter out of the closet and pulled the couch out into a bed. I could not take chance of the exhaust being covered during the night, so I left the one heater that was vented through the roof running. I shut down everything else and set the alarm for 2 hours so I could start and warm the diesel to make sure the fuel didn't gel and the oil would flow. I snuggled down in my own covers and was asleep within minutes.
When I got up to start the bus up, I stumbled through in the darkness slipping on my jeans and boots. I grabbed my coat and stepped out to check the back of the bus. The wind had lessened but the snow was now getting deeper. I cleared the snow from around the generator exhaust but I knew it would not remain clear, so the generator was out of the question. Since the diesel exhaust was run through the back corner, unless it drifted 12 feet high we could run the engine.
I was shivering by the time I got back inside. The wind chill would probably be near 80 below. The moisture from my breath was causing frost to form around the scarf I had around my face. The diesel complained but turned over and fired. As I watched the gauges, I heard that voice again.
"Dave? Is there something wrong?" Michelle's soft voice startled me from my thoughts.
"Nothing wrong. I just need to keep the motor from freezing up. I am going to leave it running the rest of the night, but we won't have much light. The generator can't run, so we are on the engine lights."
I turned to get out of the seat and was struck with the sight of Michelle's long perfect legs. She had shed her leggings and stood there in her blouse and panties. Even in the dim light, I could see how the muscles almost shimmered as she moved toward me.
I was enjoying the sight. After all I was still male and had not seen a woman in this state of undress in over a year. I could feel my cock harden in my jeans. Before I did something stupid, I moved back toward my bed. I had to pass her in the narrow aisle of the bus. I could feel her nipples moving against my chest, leaving a hot trail as I passed.
I'm sure she felt my hard-on rub against her tummy even though I tried to avoid it. I glanced back and saw her look down and smile. To hide my embarrassment, I said, "It is going to get colder in here. If you need another blanket, come back and get one." I hurried back to my bed and quickly stripped and crawled in, trying to get the thoughts I was having out of my mind and my cock to go down.
I was about to drop off again when I heard Michelle call my name. "Anything wrong?"
.... There is more of this story ...