Chapter 3

“M-m-mister?”

And shit again.

“M-m-mister? I hear someone moaning. I thinks it’s Mrs. Andrews.”

How could it be Mrs. Andrews? I’m no expert on dead people, but she sure as hell looked dead to me when I first saw her. Her neck was lolled over at an angle that surely meant it was broken. If she weren’t dead, then that raised all sorts of horrible scenarios, the first of which was finding some way to get her out of the driver’s seat without actually killing her with one more tenth of an inch strain on her vertebrae. The second scenario was somehow getting her out of the bus without killing her and the third was caring for her until we could find a way to get her to a doctor.

Even if we managed all that, how to deal with the fact that I had just received blow jobs from nearly all her underage charges? “I’madeadman, I’madeadman, I’madeadman, I’madeadman”, kept running through my head, making it damned hard to think rationally. It didn’t help a damned thing that all the girls were huddled around me, still naked, probably seeking shelter from the cruel facts of the situation in the shadow of the closest thing to a father figure in the area.

I had to get a grip. When in doubt, punt, so I punted. It is harder to worry about the unknpown when your mind is occupied with a task, regardless of how useless or farcical the task might be.

“Sue”, I called out to the only name I knew. “Please help organize the girls into three groups for me. One group is to begin brainstorming ways to rescue Mrs. Andrews. The second needs to see if anyone can get a cell signal on their phone. Climb a tree if you have to or go up the hill. The third group needs to think of ways we might be able to get the bus back on the road. Oh, and it might be best if you all got dressed, as much as I dislike the thought”. I gave them a little grin to lighten the mood a bit.

I was still wandering about, pondering the situation from multiple viewpoints when one of the girls approached. Happily, she had chosen to remain topless, so far. I could see her lips moving. But couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.”

“Darlin’, it hurts me to my core, but you are going to have to cover up your fine body if you want me to be able to think when you are around.”

“Spoilsport!”, she threw at me. “Don’t you like my tits?” Her grin was nearly as wide as mine.

“You know I do and you have my eternal gratitude for sharing them with me, but we have a duty to rescue Mrs. Andrews now. Could I get a rain check on that show?”

“Any time at all, Grandpa.” She reluctantly pulled her t-shirt over her head, but left the bra off. At least I might get some of the blood back in my brain.

“I was just thinking that there might be a way to get the bus pulled up”.

“We already tried it. The tires on the truck were spinning. It won’t work.”

“When you tried it last time, there were nine girls adding weight to the bus, forcing it further into the berm. That was nearly half a ton of girls. Now that we are off the bus, that half ton is removed and we can all get in the truck bed to use that half ton plus another quarter ton from the other girls to add pressure on the rear wheel, to keep them from spinning”.

“Wow! I am impressed. Where did you learn stuff like that? You look too young to have taken Physics, already.”

“I’ll bet that you thought we were a bunch of airhead Girl Scouts, didn’t you?” She grinned at me while jiggling those firm, firm grapefruit-sized jugs at me.

“It is sort of hard to look past your obvious beauty without having had an opportunity to assess your abilities. My first impression of you was made by my gonads. My second impression of you was formed by your willingness and abilities in the art of deepthroating. I am quite willing to form a revised opinion of you based on your mental abilities. Are you the only one of the bunch that is as gifted as you?”

“Hardly. We aren’t Girl Scouts, at all. In fact, we sometimes call ourselves, ‘Girl Sluts of America’, but in reality, we are all members of an advanced technological class at the Tesla Institute of Science. Most of us have tested in the upper quartile of first year grad students in all branches of science.”

“Wow! I think I’m about to have a spontaneous orgasm. Fifteen beautiful teenage girls with superior intellectual skills who reject societal taboos and seem to regard my pleasure and entertainment as their holy duty? Now I know this is a dream.”

I should have known what came next. Barbi grabbed my balls in a vise-like grip and squeezed.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You wanted to know whether you were dreaming”, she stated smugly. “Does that answer the question?”

“Oh and shit. Do you mean to tell me that this situation is real and that it is only going to continue getting better?”

“Only if that is what you want.”

“In that case, let’s head ‘em up and move ‘em out.”

“Huh?”

“Guess you’re not familiar with ‘Rawhide’, are you?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, let’s put your incredible minds and bodies to work.”

It almost worked. The bus did, indeed, begin to rock back and slide a bit, but reached another hang point before we could get the balance point over the rim.

One of the other girls, Krystal, I think, pointed out that there were still some avenues we had not exploited. “We can put your snow chains on the rear tires to reduce spinning and we can add another hundred pounds or so to the weight on the rear wheels by having Grandpa replace one of the lighter girls, who can drive the truck.”

“Well, shit. Why didn’t I think of that?”

I must have been thinking out loud or else they could read my mind even better than I realized. “Why didn’t Newton think of relativity?”, one of the others said.

Aside from the seriousness of the situation, this was shaping up to be the highpoint of my life. Beautiful intelligent women had always been my favorite people. If this truly weren’t a dream, I was looking at Nirvana as I surveyed the group. All of them had put their t-shirts back on, probably because I asked them to do so, but none had bothered with bras. The sweaty work they had been doing made the t-shirts transparent enough to make it look like a wet t-shirt night at a biker bar.

We set to work to implement the latest suggestion and came very, very close before the wheels spun once more.