Chapter 4

Our AI was apparently reading my mind -- but drawing different conclusions. "We're approaching the temporal limits beyond which the viability of your plan for the second pickup become untenable," it announced. Very simply put, the longer this went on inside the diner, the bigger the circus outside became. And the bigger the circus, the harder it became to penetrate the mess and extract young Kellie and her girlfriends.

"We have GOT to pick up the pace, people," I announced, using my built-in PA system. "Ladies, STRIP! Get it all off, so your potential sponsors can see everything they need to see! And guys! Remember -- it's all editable!" I headed down to the collection of female flesh, yelling, "Move it if you expect to attract a man!" Hustle and bustle got some of them moving, notably Chiquita's chubby Mexican girlfriend, who actually laid back on the floor, spread her legs and beckoned Mike. "Hey, you know, that's initiative," I told him. "Besides, they're girlfriends. If you want her slimmed down, you can get it..."

"Try it! You're gonna like it!" Mamacita cajoled. Chiquita came back from the holding area to lend moral support to her girlfriend, and Mike caved to the point of shucking out of his Dockers and plugging into Mamacita's pussy. Ninety seconds later the pair of women were headed for the gathering around Bet, jabbering excitedly in Spanish. Mike passed me, pulling up his pants and grinning.

"One down," I mumbled to myself. "The easy one..." "You know, you might as well have finished in her, since you're done." Mike looked thoughtful and then hurried off to finish his quick piece. I headed back to where Tom was hanging out with Vickie. "How's it going?"

"They're almost here," Vickie replied.

"Tom, you need to get a couple more -- unless you're going to take Kellie's girlfriends sight unseen. I thought you didn't feel comfortable with teeny-boppers?"

Tom eyed Vickie. "He's right."

She shrugged. "I never claimed that I wanted her whole gaggle of girlfriends. Can I help you pick?"

"Sure."

"Let's go find something that isn't quite as new and shiny, then." The pair headed into the fray.

Jeff was apparently off getting innovative again; he was ignoring the thinning group of women in the lines and talking to some young twenty-something chick standing on the sidelines with a toddler on her hip. As I wandered over, I heard her say, "My husband would kill me!"

"That's not relevant," I interjected as I took her in. She was blonde, but the shade and the fact that it went to the roots said it was natural; she was a little bit snaggle-toothed, and needed dental work, but she had a decent face. Smart, she probably wasn't, but she had a nice body and was obviously in production, from a baby-making point of view. Then I got a look at what I thought was the REAL draw -- for a chick with a toddler on her hip, she had incredible tits! It wasn't so much size as it was shape and how they were mounted; she 'B' to 'C' cup cones under the scoop-neck blouse that she was wearing -- and they looked almost grafted onto her chest wall. This was a cleavage where you could stick two fingers between her tits, running your finger along her breastbone -- and you could see where they started to curve back underneath -- obviously without ANY sag... "Excuse me, are those real?" I asked, fascinated.

"Wow! You are just about the rudest guy I've ever seen!" the woman next to her burst out.

I smiled at her. "I'd like to think I was a pirate -- but actually, you have to understand that we have a tough situation to deal with as rapidly as possible and it just doesn't help to tippy-toe around the realities of the situation," I told her. "And you are?"

"Her mother," the woman replied. I took in the fact that she was running to grey in the hair and had on a fairly simple housedress -- but it was a serious improvement over the fat woman, poor thing; I reminded myself to try to press someone into an act of charity. Anyway, Grandma looked decent if a little careworn. "So, Jeff, what's up?"

"It's three generations," he amplified, pointing.

"So what's this about a husband?" I asked. "Do you love him more than life itself?"

"Oh, Gods, no!" the young one replied, "but Jimmy Lee would kick the shit out of me if he heard that I got down like one of them in a restaurant looking to get taken off to the colonies!"

"Honey, that would only happen if you failed to get picked up," I told her.

"Yeah, well, I gotta kid. Nobody is gonna want me." Grandma, standing beside her, looked somewhat doleful and nodded.

I shook my head. "Um, ladies, if you would, I'd like to see your IDs."

"He said he wanted to look, too, but it's a waste of time," Little Mama replied.

"I'm a government official, and I must insist," I retorted.

"Mama, would you get my purse for the man?" Little Mama asked, adding, "Jimmy Lee says..."

"Whatever will keep you in line, apparently," I finished for her. Little Mama blinked and shut up. Grandma produced her own ID and then dug in her purse for Little Mama's. I eyeballed Grandma's card and passed it to Jeff. More sheep. From my experience, Grandma looked like a Kentucky woman -- and in my experience, a great many of them looked fine below the neck, but bore the scars of their conditioning in the form of broken noses and missing teeth... I asked Grandma, "And may I enquire as to your marital status?"

"Elwood's been gone some damned place for a while..." the woman declaimed. "Thank God I was already in at the factory..." Grandma's scores said she was a practical woman who could make do on her own -- but that she was used to having others think for her. A look at Little Mama's card said that the trait passed from generation to generation.

"So, Jeff -- another two-for-one sale?" I asked.

"I'm getting good at it," he replied.

"Yeah, looks like it," I agreed, turning to Little Mama. "Honey, if you succeed at being selected, Jimmy Lee's ability to influence your future ends. And whatever he told you, having a kid is actually a good thing, because we get the bonus of his genes without actually having to put up with Jimmy Lee."

"I... don't understand," she stammered.

"It's pretty simple," I told her. "This guy is interested in you or he wouldn't be standing here. Despite what Jimmy Lee told you, we'll take you AND the kid," I turned to confirm with Jeff, "AND your mother, if you meet with the man's approval."

"But if I don't?"

"Is Jimmy Lee here?" I asked her. "Is anybody who knows Jimmy Lee here?"

"No."

"Then how's he gonna know?"

"Give me the baby," Grandma said. "What do you want?" she asked me.

"Ask him," I pointed at Jeff.

"I'd like to see you nude," Jeff explained, "and assess your sexual skills, if we have time." Turning to Grandma, he added, "You, too."

"I'm drippy," Little Mama said, "He's still nursing."

"I'm gonna cum in my pants," I muttered under my breath. Tits like that -- and they worked? "We have little time, Ladies -- please?" I pressed.

"You're still kinda nasty," Little Mama said -- but the top went over her head.

"If you want quick, one of you has to hold Harlan," Grandma said. Jeff ended up awkwardly clutching the toddler while Grandma started getting out of her housedress.

Little Mama undid her bra and removed her nursing pads. "So they ARE real," I muttered.

"Of course," Little Mama replied, shaking her head in irritation at my gall.

"I'd take her just to be able to look at those things," I sighed, "But you'd better discover whether she can fuck and suck..."

"Of course I can!" Little Mama announced, irritated. "Where do you think Harlan came from? Jimmy Lee makes me suck him a lot these days -- he doesn't want any more kids right away."

"Hasn't he ever heard of birth control?" I asked.

"He says it messes up your pussy hole," Little Mama replied, adding for Jeff, "So you want me to..."

"Please," Jeff nodded. "I'm holding... Harlan."

"Lemme help," Grandma started digging for the meat of the matter; the housedress hadn't taken long to get out of.

"Jimmy Lee is a piece of work," I grunted. "You might think I'm bad, but at least I haven't lied to you, repeatedly..." I shook my head at the shocked looks the pair of women gave me, then turned to Jeff. "You got this?"

"Yeah."

"I think you've got something here. We don't have a whole lot of time, so don't go nuts testing..."

The look on Jeff's face said Little Mama's fellatio score was going to be acceptable. "I won't," he croaked. I walked away, shaking my head. Two down.

Martin and Dolly were arguing. "If I take HER," he ranted, "what are YOU going to collect for your second male? Some young stud? I see what you're saddling me with -- don't you trust me?"

"You pick him, then," Dolly retorted. "But we take her, regardless. She can go on my quota."

"Fine," Martin growled. "But I get input into her mods! I'm the one who has to sleep with her!"

"Just remember that you also have to sleep with ME!" Dolly retorted.

Martin smiled engagingly, "I REALLY don't see THAT as a problem!"

Dolly went immediately soft and gooey. "Okay..."

"I get to pick, huh?" He pushed through the women to get to the collected males. "Let's go, men! Cards!" I wondered how ugly this was going to get, so I drifted closer.

Males present were as varied as the females and a LOT less in demand -- there was some pushing and shoving. I got out my stinger and announced, "Keep it civilized, or you'll be napping while the rest of us sort this out!" I watched Martin go through the younger guys, looking at some fifteen cards -- but we both knew that he had other plans. In a moment, he'd settled on something, and I figured, 'Here we go... ' -- but oddly, I tended to agree.

Martin walked up to a black man -- a big huggy-bear type who probably weighed three hundred, with a grey beard and hair. "Card!" he demanded. The man surrendered his. Martin took a look at it, nodded, and said, "Him," -- then he checked himself. "Let's see your penis."

"You're kiddin' me, right?" the old guy said.

"No. The woman will want to see..."

"All right..." The old guy fished in his painter's pants and released a pretty serious-looking piece of meat -- oh, it wasn't eighteen inches, or anything, but it was a good-sized hunk of flesh. "Don't mean much," the old guy said. "I got high blood pressure. The meds..."

"You won't, later," I told him. "Martin?" How big a man WAS Martin? He'd just hung himself, possibly...

Martin sucked in a breath, let it out. "Dolly? You should inspect this..." He waved the guy forward.

Dolly's eyes popped. "It's, umm..."

"Too much," the old guy grunted. "I don't think I ever got the fun out of it I shoulda. Women were always bitchin' about me goin' deep..."

"Maybe we could experiment with sizing..." Dolly muttered.

"Yeah, fine..." The old black guy was waiting for them to quit teasing him, I could tell.

Martin handed Dolly the guy's ID and I watched her blink. "Fine. We're agreed, then?" she asked Martin.

"Yes," Martin nodded.

"Well, then. Leonard?"

"Call me Lon, Ma'am," the guy burbled.

"Lon, please step over there and join the group, unless you have a serious issue with being selected -- and collect the heavyset woman over there, too." Dolly pointed, and I checked off my charity case. No wonder Martin had been arguing!

Lon cocked his head. "Yes, Ma'am..." He shambled off toward Bet. On the way, he collected the fat woman, much to her surprise. I watched that byplay closely; the expression on her face was priceless...

Hugh was looking over some twenty-something chick -- a brunette. She had this puffy look that said she'd just gotten up -- but I suspected that she always looked like that despite the pajama bottom type pants she was wearing. Any chick who has a decent ass looks good in those things; watching one walk down the street in them tended to give me a hard-on. She looked pretty sultry; her breasts drooped a little, but they were fun to look at. Hugh mauled them a bit and gave Sleepy the nod; she swayed off toward the collection point. Puffy and String Bean were gonna have their work cut out for them if they were gonna try to be top bitch...

Tom and Vickie were sizing up this young thing with a soft, round face. She was well upholstered, but looked frail. Have you ever noticed that chicks who tend to stand with both of their feet pointed straight forward, parallel to each other, tend to hunch forward? They could have hooters the size of cantaloupes, but you're gonna subtract one cup size because they're so poorly presented. They got this one out of her top and bra and her jugs were a little droopy -- but she turned the sweetest pink... She had a substantial ass, too, and a couple of small birthmarks, but I'd have passed her -- and so did Tom and Vickie; Vickie wasn't going to have any trouble with THAT one... That seemed to finish them up; they headed back toward Bet. Well, maybe one of Kellie's girlfriends was spoken for, then.