The rest of the class gathered around and watched me like I was performing brain surgery. Mean Girls 3026 Part 9 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

I set up a meeting with some of my teachers to try to get a better ideas of what they were looking for, with the year long project assignment. What I found out was, it was an open project that had to cover what was learned in at least one class we were taking. Of course the gears in my mind started grinding as I thought an old school pro-modified drag car would be right up their alley, since I doubt any of them had ever seen one before. So I got to work on getting my hands on a set of chassis designs from back in the day to use as a starting point.

I’d built my fair share of cars before, and I knew I needed a kick ass chassis before I even started to plan anything else. Come to find out, one of the chassis shops I’d worked in for a while before my accident, still had their web site up and they still had a copy of the blueprints there for the taking. I put in a call to one of my nostalgia motorsports teacher and asked him if we had the right size of tubing for me to use. Come to find out, he had just received a new shipment and once I told him my project he was more then happy to set it aside for me to use.

Next thing I did, was look online for anyone who made replicas of the old bodies used back in the day. As luck would have it, there was a guy still making a handful of the old pro-mod style bodies and I saw on his site, that he had my personal favorite, the 1970 Plymouth Duster. I checked the clock and once I saw that he should still be open I placed the call and didn’t hesitate to put it all on my debit card. The only funny part was when I asked him to ship it to the moon. There was a long pause before he told me it would arrive on the next freighter. I was giddy with excitement once I hung up with him. I’d always had plans on how I’d build my own car if I was ever able to save up the money to do it. But here I was ACTUALLY getting the chance to build my car, my way.

Over dinner that night, Grace and I talked about how our day was and she got as excited as I got when I told her what I was doing for my project. It was cool to know that this beautiful young woman sitting across from me at dinner was just as much of a gear head as I am. But the excitement soon faded, when she came to the realization that she had no idea what she would do for HER project. So I started brain storming.

“You want to build one too, and we could race them against each other?” I asked her.

“Not really. I mean I’d love to drive one of those old school rides. They look wild when they showed us the video of them in class. But I don’t think I have the skill to do all the fabrication that’ll be needed to get one of those things running by the end of the school year.”

“Alright, how about something a bit simpler,” I asked?

“Simpler would help.” she said with a giggle.

“Motorcycle,” I said holding a finger in the air.

“You have my attention.” she told me with a nod and a smile.

“I’m building a drag car, how about if you built a drag bike.”

“Why, I could buy one at the dealer ready to go?” she asked looking puzzled.

“Not one of those new high-tech jobs.” I said grinning. “Old school, Stripped down; no frills, all out raw power, old school pro-stock.”

“How ‘old school’ are we talking?” she asked me getting a bit nervous.

“Early twenty-first century,” I told her with a smile. “It’ll be a simple design. All tube rigid chassis, with a beefy v-twin sitting between the frame rails. The most difficult part will be making the chassis. I’ll bet we can find a motor ready, or almost ready to go. Then all you’d have to do is work on the plumbing of the bike, and fab up some body work for it.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard. As long as you’ll help me.” she said with a smile, leaning across the table.

It was then that I noticed she was showing a bit more cleavage then she had been in week’s past. I really didn’t thing anything of it, since most girls our age usually gain a couple of cup sizes between the ages of fifteen and nineteen. I tried to put it out of my mind, but she kept fiddling with her shirt, which kept drawing my attention back to her budding chest.

After dinner we both relaxed in front of the tv, and cuddled as I found a copy of both of my favorite movies from back in the day. So Grace finally got the chance to see Easy Rider, and Bullitt. We had to go back a couple of times when I pointed out to her about the green VW bug that appears ten times in the chase scene in Bullitt. She only found it eight until I pointed them out to her as we went, and finally she saw that same bug. I then told her that the chase scene had been spoofed over the years in numerous movies, and in TV, and cartoon shows. We spent the night in her bed since we’d decided to rotate whose bed we spent the night in so one didn’t get worn out faster then the other. It was pretty nice to have someone to cuddle with when going to sleep and I always did my best to make sure I didn’t wake her when I went for my morning jog.
Like I’d been doing since she gave it to me, I wore the rugby jersey Grace gave me for my jogs. I found it really helped cut down on the number of guys who’d make snide comments toward me, and it also helped hide my bouncing 34 double G cup breasts. However, the other thing I noticed with myself was as I became more comfortable with my new body, my style of dressing started to get a bit more daring. Take for instance the shirt I bought that first weekend on the moon. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal crew neck tank top. Compare that to the tube top and new t-shirts I just bought last weekend. That’s right, I said tube top. And the t-shirts, all have a v-neck in them. It’s kind of fun to show off that much cleavage, considering that the taper of the neck comes down to the middle of my breasts. With the right bra, I can show just about the entire length of my titty crack, and it’s become fun to drive the boys wild with it. Granted, I still am a bit put off by not many guys looking me in the eyes when they talk to me, but then again, if I was in their shoes, I’d probably find it hard to not look myself.

When I finished my run I was surprised to find Grace already awake and in the shower. My devilish mind told me that it would be fun to shower with her, since we’d not seen each other fully naked yet. So I snuck into the bathroom and careful to not make a noise stripped off my clothes. I really had no idea what her body looked like since we usually make out with the lights off, and I’d only seen her in her shirts which I’d noticed had been getting a bit tighter as the weeks at school went on. When I pulled back the shower curtain I had pretty much the same reaction Samantha did that day she saw me in the infirmary. My jaw dropped and I could feel my eyes bug out, as I gazed at Grace’s naked body for the first time. She stood there frozen in place too, as the hot water ran down her body, forming a river between the breasts that I was now sure of had been growing. When we had gone dress shopping she was measured as a C cup, but now her breasts looked at least to be double D’s.

“Holy shit you just gave me a heart attack!” she said trying to cover her chest with one of her arms.

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be fun to shower together.” she said as I watched her nipples poke through her fingers as she took a look at my slim and stacked body.

She didn’t say a word; she just reached out and pulled me by the back of the head into the water, and started kissing me while she soaped up my naked body. The feeling of her washing my sweaty body was enough to cause me to have a couple of mini climaxes. Once she finished washing me, it was my turn to return the favor. I really don’t have to tell you that I did just as thorough a job washing her as she did on me. By the time we were done kissing and washing, my alarm went off, signaling that we had a half hour to finish getting ready for school.

It didn’t take very long to get dried and dressed. Once I made myself presentable to the world, I joined Grace at the table and we sat for a couple of minutes while we both inhaled a bowl of cereal.

“So how long have your breasts been growing?” I asked her between mouth full’s of food.

“You noticed?” she asked me surprised.

“How could I not?” I said with a grin. “It looks good on you.”

“Well incase you didn’t notice in the shower, my entire body is getting a bit bigger.”

“Get off the crap.” I said raising an eyebrow. “You aren’t getting fat. And whoever told you, you are is full of crap too.”

“I’m serious. I had to buy new jeans this past weekend. And I’m up to a size five from a size two.”

“Alright, that probably just means that your hips are getting wider. But like I said,” I told her again with a smile, “it looks damn good on you. I wish I had your butt.”

“You have a cute butt.”

“Yeah, but mine doesn’t fill out a pair of jeans as sexy as yours does.”

“Keep that up and we’ll be skipping class today.”

“No we won’t.” I told her. “Our project ideas are due today.”

We packed up and headed to class, after putting the dishes in the washer. Once there, I showed Grace some web sites to grab some pictures from to help show the teacher what her project was going to be. While she quickly wrote an outline of what she was going to be doing, I presented my idea to the class.

What I was planning on doing, was build a nostalgia pro-modified drag car, like what would have been raced in the early twenty-first century, from scratch. The body I chose for the project was going to be a 1970 Plymouth Duster, and the paint would be inspired by the Sox & Martin racing team from the 1960's. I had located a company that still produced the right engine block for the project, and the other parts I could either make myself, or find on one of the used parts web sites. The instructor was impressed at the idea I was going with. As I went back to my seat I found that the other students were going to simply be modifying production cars.

Grace impressed the instructor as much as I did, since he is a fan of the old school. He and I joke that we were born a thousand years too late, all the time; if he only knew. So the projects were set, and for the better part of the next couple of months, it would be assholes and elbows as the class thrashed to get the projects done on time.

The first thing I did was make a jig to help Grace build her frame. That really only took a couple of hours, since the school had everything needed, and by the end of the day, we had almost a complete frame for her bike. The only parts missing were a neck and rear axle supports. But those would be coming in with my body on the next freighter so no worries, and I got her busy helping me bend up some tubing to use as frame rails for my project.

To watch the rest of the students, watch the two of us work with nothing but raw metal, you’d have thought we were doing some sort of human sacrifice. I mean, come on, this is how it was done back in the day. There weren’t any robots building race chassis. It was a couple of guys cutting and bending tubing, then welding it all together. That was another thing. These kids had never seen anyone TIG weld before. Granted it was an art form in my time, but it seems to be a lost art these days. Everyone depends on robots to weld everything. I couldn’t help but laugh under my welding helmet as I got the bottom rails tacked together and the main roll bar hoop in place. I’d wait until my body arrived until I finished the welds, incase I needed to move anything.

Work pretty much stalled on both our projects for the next couple of days, since our parts weren’t due I until the end of the week. Once our parts arrived, it was like Christmas day in the shop. There was the big crate that held my body, and doors. Then there were both crates that held her v-twin that I found on line, and my block. I had to order the internals from another distributor, since the one who sold me the block, was selling me their LAST block ever made. So with all the boxes containing the rest of my engine, we took up the vast majority of our instructor’s office. Not that he minded, but it was still cramped in there. I had to start laughing when one of the other students asked me how my engine block was going to power my car when it was done.

“The block by itself, won’t do anything. That is what all those other smaller boxes are for.”

“So the engine is in one of those?” he asked scratching his head.

“Have you been paying attention to ANYTHING the instructor has been saying?” I asked shaking my head in disgust.

“Uh.” was his only replay with a look of confusion on his face.

“Look, just stay out of my parts, and watch a master at work.” I told him as I got to work assembling my engine.

The rest of the class gathered around and watched me like I was performing brain surgery. It was quite comical to look at their faces while I pieced my big block 526 cubic inch Hemi together. It only took me about a day to build, and once I was done, I primed the dry sump oil pump and touched off the engine with its open zoomie headers barking away. It was music to my, and the instructors ears to hear that beast fire off. Granted, I did have to play with the fuel injection a bit, but it fired and revved up nice, when I goosed the butterflies on the injector hat.

Once I shut it down, I pulled the plugs back out and set them in the tray I’d made to examine them between runs to find out what I’d have to change for the fuel injection. One of my dumbass classmates took it upon himself to grab right a hold of one of the still piping hot plugs that I’d just placed in the tray, while I was pulling another. It wasn’t until I heard him curse followed by the plug hitting the floor that I realized what had happened.

“Alright, that was rule number one.” I said looking around to the entire class. “NEVER touch anything that comes out of an engine that has just been shut off with your bare hands.” I said as I held up my gloved hand. “And while we’re at it. Rule number two.” I said as I picked up the plug and put it back in the tray. “NEVER, EVER touch my stuff. You guys don’t know what half this shit is, let alone DOES. So don’t touch ANYTHING without asking me first.” I told them as I threw a blanket over the engine and wheeled it into the instructor’s office for safe keeping.

I came back and Grace and I set the body over top of the frame I’d built and once again, my classmates, looked at it like a monkey trying to read a map. I found that I had guessed right in the placement of the roll hoop and could go ahead and finish weld it in place. Most of the rest of the tubing would have to go in, to fit around the body, so I’d have to get that mounted after I had the hoop secure. We left the body sitting on the frame for the night and I helped Grace finish her bike frame.

What I didn’t tell her, was that I’d ordered her a fork assembly that was already built, so all she’d have to do was bolt it on and voila, instant bike. In under an hour we had her frame finished and sitting on the wheels she’s ordered so the instructor could see that she was making some quick progress. The rest of the class was all but drooling, looking at what she had built. Wait until they see it with the engine in it. I made Grace hold off, since I wanted it to be a surprise to her what I’d been able to find; a reproduction of the same engine S&S Engines built for racing back in my day. Ready to rock and roll. All she had to do was run the wires to the ignition, and hook up the fuel line. This thing is going to be a bad bike when she gets it done. And I told her that over dinner.

“I’ll bet you go low sevens at almost two hundred when that thing is done.” I said between bites.

“You mean it’ll go that fast in only a quarter mile?” she asked me shocked.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?”

“No, I assumed it would maybe go one twenty, or so, but not two hundred.”

“You know, there’s something I’ve never asked you before.”

“What’s that Amy?”

“Have you ever driven a bike before?”

“I’ve never driven ANYTHING before. Why?” she asked looking confused.

“Oh boy, we need to get you seat time, or you’re going to get hurt on that thing.”

I had her come with me as I went online and started searching for something she could learn to ride on. I found an older lower power bike on one of the used car sites, and had the dealer who had it send it to us. Grace was going to go through a crash course in riding, so she wouldn’t crash when the time came to present our projects.

Then next day, we made a stop at one of the leather shops and got her fitted up for a set of riding gear. I insisted on a pair of pants with padding in the seat and legs, and a jacket that had a hard yet flexible shell across her spine. I have to admit, that even back in the day, the sight of a woman in a set of leathers was enough by itself to get my motor running. But, here was Grace, the girl with the sweet innocent face, but had the body of a goddess; all leathered out and her breasts causing the chest of the jacket to strain. OH BOY! I picked up some leathers for myself while we were there, and I could tell I was having a similar effect on Grace that seeing her in them had on me. Once we were both suited up, we headed to the shoe store, and I helped her make a wise selection for riding boots, and then it was off to the motorcycle shop, and we found helmets. Before you even ask, YES there was a motorcycle shop on the moon. Granted, they only sold alcohol burning or electric bikes, but they are still motorcycles, and that’s good enough for me. The only issue came when Grace insisted on getting a beanie helmet.

“Alright, let me ask you this.” I said holding a beanie in one hand and a full face in the other. “Would you rather look cool?” I asked holding up the beanie. “Or would you rather be safe, just in case something goes wrong?” I asked holding up the full face helmet.

“Can’t I do both?”

“Sure, we can paint the full face.” I said with a giggle.

“Alright, I see where this is going. You aren’t going to let me leave this store with that little helmet are you?”

“Look, I’m only doing this to help you be safe. That is as safe as you can be on a bike like that.”

“I know.” she told me with a kiss on the cheek. Then as she looked at the helmet wall, she saw a pre-painted full face helmet she loved. I had to laugh, because it was pained like one of the riders from back in my day had his done up.

We ended up buying two helmets there, the pained one for her, and a plain black one for me. Something about a black helmet, with black leathers, and black riding boots, just has a feel about it all its own; especially, when the helmet has a dark smoked shield on it. It’s an aura of danger. ‘Who is that?’ It’s something I did back in the day, and I guess old habits die hard.

TO BE CONTINUED...