Tow-Away Stowaway

~~~ Series Notes ~~~

This story series is complete and finished at the time it is uploaded to Literotica. After that, the admins are in control of when the chapters get released. Generally, they come out every day or so.

Thanks for reading my stuff. Abusive comments will be deleted. If you can do a better job, don't bother telling me so - prove it by publishing your own stuff. I put far too much time and effort into these stories to listen to that nonsense.

~~~ Saturday ~~~

Lydia Nelch lived two doors down, across the street, with her mom and her step-dad. The attractive young blonde always smiled and waved when we caught each other outside. I'd taken up walking a year or so earlier and she occasionally jogged around the neighborhood. I tried not to ogle her eye-catching young body whenever we ran into each other. She was barely out of high school. I was certain I was breaking some law for leering at her for too long - even if she did wear those exotic-colored leggings that screamed for my attention.

Too cheap to hire some young college bucks to carry my household items from the house to the U-Haul trailer, I was in the middle of wrestling a sofa out of my house when lovely Ms. Nelch appeared out of nowhere. I tried to make sure I kept my eyes on her brilliant smile and her adorable haircut - rather than those charcoal and hot-pink leggings that hugged her thin thighs like a second skin.

"I can help, Mr. Simms," she said, setting down her slightly-worn, faded-pink backpack beside the tire of the rented trailer that was hitched to my pickup.

"No, that's alright...," I told her.

She ignored me and picked up the other end of the sofa.

"Shit!" I gasped. "Are you sure you...?"

"I'm fine," she said, grimacing a little. "You're just going to the trailer, right?"

Rather than stand there - having a drawn-out conversation about the merits of what she was doing - while holding a heavy piece of furniture - I got my ass moving. I knew that I was going to have to play a bit of Tetris to get it to all fit - but I was confident I'd accomplish the task. I had already decided that - if something didn't fit - I could just call the donation center and have them come get it.

Most of the appliances and other larger pieces of furniture were staying with the house - so I really didn't have much to move - just the contents of the den, the computer room, and my bedroom.

"You're stronger than you look," I told the blonde, as we got the couch placed in the trailer the way I wanted it.

She shot me an ornery smirk.

"I'm not sure that's a compliment," she teased. "Does that mean that you thought I was a weakling - some little Barbie doll who worries she would break a nail?"

I felt my face redden. She laughed. Her wavy blonde hair hung to just below her shoulders.

"What else you need help with?" Lydia asked.

"I can't ask...," I replied.

"I'm volunteering," she said. "Can't risk you having a heart attack before you escape this horrid place."

She smirked at me, waiting - no doubt - for me to react to her teasing that I was old and prone to cardiac arrest.

"Horrid?" I asked.

Her smirk changed to a frown and she looked down.

"I... I just want out... as soon as I can," she said. "Mom says we can't afford college - even community college. I'm running out of options - and mom's new boyfriend is a moron."

"What happened to your step-dad...?"

"He ran off with somebody from work. Mom's busy, losing her shit. She's desperate for a man - any man. The last few months have not been pretty. This one is even more of a loser than the last two."

"Sorry...," I told her.

She followed me into the house, uninvited. I glanced back at her. She'd begun perspiring - though not as badly as I was. I wasn't used to this much manual labor.

She had a tattered hot pink crop-top over a gray sports bra. The loose shirt hung off of one shoulder to reveal her small firm breast beneath. On her lower half, she had black and hot pink leggings that hugged her narrow waist, slender hips, and long thin legs. The girl was going to be smoking when she got to be a little older. Honestly, she was already JC Penney's catalog hot - but I felt creepy for just thinking that.

"You don't have to...," I repeated.

"Let me help you," she said firmly.

I opened my mouth to argue but she crossed her arms in front of her body and glared at me. That only served to lift her breasts a little higher - presenting them to my eyes like an offering. Her young tits were only B-cups but I felt the blood rushing south - and quickly averted my eyes before she figured out what I was staring at.

Over the next hour, she helped me carry out everything from furniture to boxes to totes. As we worked, she shared a bit more about her situation. Naturally, I told her all about the cabin - and my plans to turn the rustic retreat into a little bit of retirement heaven - complete with a massive garden and a chicken yard - my planned attempt to try to be mostly self-sufficient.

Soon, the trailer was loaded. There was still a bit of room left - but not a lot. I glanced at the young blonde and reached for my wallet - planning to pay my adorable neighbor for her assistance. It was the least that I could do.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she declared.

"But you saved me so much time - and averted a possible heart attack," I argued - giving her a wink.

She giggled. It was delightfully melodic.

"It was the least that I could do," she argued. "I hope you enjoy your new cabin at the lake - and finally get to kick back and relax."

"Thanks, Lydia," I told her. "I sincerely appreciate your help. I'm certain that you will succeed at whatever you choose - just follow your heart."

"I intend to," she said, her face sobering a bit. "I definitely do."

I reached for the door of the trailer to close it.

"Did you mean to leave your little nameplate thing on the front door?" she asked.

"Shit. I didn't grab that already?" I remarked.

"I thought I saw it still hanging there when I walked up," she replied.

"Guess the new owners won't need that...," I said with a grin.

She grinned back. Lydia picked up her backpack as I turned to head for the front door.

"I'll see you, Mr. Simms," she called to me. "Best of luck!"

"Thanks!" I hollered back. "Thanks again for your help."

I walked down the sidewalk to the front porch to retrieve the little decorative wooden plaque that my wife had bought - so long ago - that had our surname on it. It had been years now, but I still missed her. That part of my heart felt like it was frozen in time. I retrieved the hanging, brushed the dust from it, and headed back to the trailer. I laid the thing on top of the laundry basket filled with clothes, closed the doors, locked them, and headed to the cab of the truck.

I hopped in, turned the key, pulled to the end of the drive, and looked back - one last time - at the home I'd lived in for 30 years.

I glanced towards Lydia's house as well but she had already disappeared. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get one last peek at that pert little posterior of hers before I left the state.

I eased onto the street and pressed my foot down on the gas pedal. At the edge of the subdivision, I glanced back one more time. I was leaving a few friends behind - and some lovely acquaintances - like young Lydia. This place had been a good move - back when my wife and I had come here so long ago - but it was time to move on.

I drove out of town, caught the ramp to the interstate, and merged into traffic. I glanced back at the small community that had been home for most of my adult life.

I drove and drove until I had to pee. I left the interstate, pulled up to the gas pump, filled the truck, and went inside to empty my bladder. The restroom was not the world's finest facility. The floor was covered in fluids of a questionable nature. I skated around like I was on ice. The urinal looked like it had lost a bar fight or two.

I finished my business, turned on the tap, rinsed my hands - and then discovered that the soap dispenser had been in the same fracas with the urinal (and had also lost). I sighed and walked past the half-destroyed paper towel dispenser. I grabbed the door handle with wet, unclean hands and pulled it open to leave the room.

I exited the building to find a delivery truck driver standing beside my rented trailer.

"This yours?" he asked as I walked up.

"Yeah...," I replied.

"I think you'd better open the back - something's alive in there - or mostly alive."

I fished out my keys, unlocked the padlock, and carefully opened the doors. I found a sweaty young blonde girl hanging halfway off of my sofa.

"Lydia?!" I gasped.

She looked up at me with fear in her eyes.

"I didn't realize it would get this hot in here...," she said - all but moaning.

"Fuck, girl!" I exclaimed. "You could have died!"

She held her arms out to me. I grabbed her shoulders and - rather unceremoniously - dragged her out of the pile of furniture that she had burrowed into.

I felt a bump on my shoulder and looked to see the delivery guy holding a bottle of cold water. I sat down on the floor of the back of the trailer, pulled Lydia onto my lap, and accepted the bottle from him.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm so glad you heard her."

"You guys all good?" he asked.

Lydia looked up at him and gave a weak smile.

"Thank you," she told the man.

"Just glad you're alright," he said. "Get some of that water into you - but don't chug it all at once or you'll throw up and be worse off."

I held Lydia on my lap and let her sip the water. The man gave us a little wave and walked away.

"What were you thinking?" I asked her quietly.

"I wanted out," she declared.

"Your mom...?" I asked, worriedly.

"Won't even notice I'm gone," Lydia said firmly. "When she calls, I'll tell her that I've moved in with a friend."

"Moved in...?" I asked.

"Please let me stay with you," she begged. "I used to help Grandma garden - before she passed. I promise that I won't be a burden."

"I...," I complained.

She took my hand and laid it over her left breast. She squeezed the fingers - forcing the digits to feel her tender flesh beneath the thin sweaty shirt and sports bra.

"This is yours," she whispered, "if you want it."

"Lydia...," I gasped quietly.

"I'll earn my keep...," she said, peering into my eyes. "Feed me, house me, protect me,... and I'll be yours."

"No," I said firmly.

"Please don't make me leave," she begged, looking even more pitiful than she already did.

"I won't...," I promised. "You can stay... just... we'll... adjust."

"I'll sleep on the couch - if that makes you feel better...," she said.

I tapped the water bottle in her hands - suggesting that she drink some more. She squeezed my fingers over her breast again and smiled at me.

"I'll sleep on your couch, wait for you to nod off, and then sneak into your bed. I'll suck your dick so hard that you'll pass out - and then I'll sleep with my arms wrapped around you - without a worry in the world."

"Lydia...," I argued.

"You promised you wouldn't force me out...," she answered.

"I won't...," I confirmed.

"Then you're as good as fucked... literally," she whispered.

She took another drink of water.

"We'll talk about this...," I warned her.

"You can talk while I'm sucking your dick," she replied with a grin. "I'm feeling better. You have air in the truck, right?"

"Yes, you goof! I still can't believe you thought you'd survive in this trailer."

"My legs are still wobbly," she said with a sly smile. "Carry me to my seat and tuck me in?"

"You are wicked...," I told her.

"You'll find out just how wicked I can be later on...," she promised.

She glanced at my crotch - as if she could see all of the blood in my body rushing in that direction. She gave me another wicked grin - and then leaned in to press her lips to mine.

"Carry me to my seat, Mr. Simms," she ordered. "I feel unwell and may require your tender attentions later..."

"Oh fuck...," I moaned.

She giggled and wrapped her arms around my neck - shoving her forehead against the side of my jaw. I stood - easily lifting her - and carried her to the passenger-side door of the truck. I unlocked the cab, moved my backpack to the floorboard, and slid her into the seat. She kissed me once more and then released her hold on me.

It suddenly occurred to me just how much this little cutie had planned and schemed. She had seen the "Sold" sign go up in my front yard - and had watched for the moving van to appear. When she saw me carrying stuff out, she had thrown everything into her backpack, set it beside the trailer, helped me load everything, distracted me with the door hanging - and then snuck inside of the trailer while my back was turned.

"Where's your pack?" I asked her.

"In the trailer," she reported.

"I'll put our two bags in the back," I told her, reaching for mine.

"They'll both be fine right here," she said. "There's plenty of legroom - and you probably had it here for a reason..."

"My clothes for the hotel are in there," I admitted, "not much other than that and my phone charger."

"It'll be fine right where it's at," she reported.

"Okay."

"Get my pack, pretty please?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at me, before giving me another peck on the lips.

I frowned at her. She grinned back, looking as innocent as a sweaty young beauty can look.

"Are you even 18?" I asked, suddenly realizing that I should have asked that earlier.

"18 years and six months," she reported. "Old enough to marry whomever I want..."

I gaped at her.

"That's a discussion for down the road, though," she said quickly. "Take care of me and I'll take care of you. No strings."

"We need to talk...," I told her.

"Bag, drive, hotel, fuck, talk,...," she announced softly.

I stood in place too long. She grabbed the bottom of her crop top in her fingers and raised the shirt and her bra at the same time - showing me a stiff nipple that looked like the eraser on a pencil.

"It ain't gonna suck itself," she whispered seductively.

She giggled when I gave a low growl. She wrapped her hand around the back of my head and pulled my mouth to the breast. I nipped the stiff bud with my teeth and her fingers dug into my scalp as all of the air rushed from her lungs. I flicked the thing with the tip of my tongue and began to suck.

"Yes...," she hissed.

She pulled my face off of her pert breast, pulled her shirt down, grabbed my face in her hands, and kissed me hard.

"Bag, drive, hotel, fuck, talk,...," she said once again.

I nodded, stumbled back to the trailer, retrieved her bag, closed and locked the doors, brought the bag to her, accepted another quick peck on the lips, closed the door, and went to my seat. I started the truck and pulled on my belt. I looked over to see that hers was already on. The strap fell between those two perfect breasts. She giggled when I stared a little too long.

I checked my mirrors, dropped the truck into drive, and eased away from the gas pump.

"This is crazy...," I said under my breath.

Lydia wriggled around and I looked over to see her place her bag against the door and then lay her cheek on it like a pillow. Her eyes were already closed. I'd barely gotten back onto the interstate before she was snoring softly.

I navigated through traffic and then reached behind me for the fleece that was lying on the backseat. Her slender arms were pimpled with goosebumps. The cool air in the truck was freezing her sweaty body and clothing. I worked the blanket free and then got it draped across her athletic frame. She gave a soft moan and snuggled it closer. I marveled at the fact that this young girl had done so much heavy lifting to help me get the trailer loaded.

I glanced at my phone's GPS to check the updated arrival time for the hotel. As I thought about my reservation, I realize that we'd be sharing a bed soon. I'd reserved a room with a single queen - leaving the king-sized beds for those that preferred them.

I had lived alone for long enough that I had considered downsizing to a single bed - though I rolled too much for that. Lydia would find out how restless of a sleeper I was. The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized that I hadn't been such a restless sleeper when I was sharing the bed with Lucille. I began to wonder if sharing the bed with Lydia might mean that I'd be able to sleep through the night once again - although I was a decade older than the last time that had happened.

I wondered what my two sons would think about my new companion - they were both almost ten years older than Lydia. I began to worry about our conversation. She needed a temporary fix. I was already becoming far more attached than was probably a good idea. This relationship needed to be a stepping-stone for her. I wondered if I could be sexually involved with Lydia without becoming so attached that I'd refused to let her escape - to live her own life.

A slender hand reached for mine - and squeezed it.

"Stop worrying," she said softly.

I glanced over at her - before focusing on the road again.

"I can see you battling with yourself about this," she went on. "We'll ease into it..."

"Ease into it?!" I gasped. "I haven't had sex in ten years. My boxers are already a mess - just from the teasing you gave me."

She giggled.

"I'm worried that I'm already falling for you...," I warned her.

"Awww...," she replied.

"I'm serious!" I objected. "If we become sexually and emotionally involved, I'll want to keep you for myself - and you'll never be able to have the kind of life that you deserve."

"First off," she said, sitting up and looking at me with a serious look on her face, "maybe the life I deserve is having somebody love me unconditionally."

"I..."

She held up her hand to stop me.

"I'll take whatever you're willing to give me," she said firmly. "I will ask for nothing, demand nothing,..."

"Except for me to get your bag...," I teased.

"You are gonna be everything I need...," she promised.

"My dick probably doesn't even work anymore...," I warned her.

"There's a lump in the front of your shorts that tells me that you're wrong," she countered. "We're just gonna take care of each other and see how it goes..."

"I... will become attached...," I warned her.

"Maybe that's what I'm craving," she countered. "Let me worry about that. I promise to leave when you're ready - and not a second sooner."

"Lydia...," I complained.

"Can I just hold your hand?" she asked.

She held her hand out to me. I placed mine in hers. She rubbed her thumb over my fingers and laid her head back against the seat. She was soon asleep again.

I tried to ignore the young hottie beside me, holding my fingers in hers, and focus on putting the miles behind me.

We rode a couple more hours before my bladder began to complain.

I squeezed her fingers a couple times. She opened her eyes and looked at me. She squirmed a little in her seat.

"Potty stop?" I asked.

"Yes, please," she replied.

"You could have said something," I told her.

"I didn't want to be a pain," she countered. "I also didn't realize how badly I needed to go."

I pulled off at the next exit, picked the gas station on the right (to make getting back on the road easier), and slid into an open spot.

"Pee and grab a snack and a drink," I told her. "I'll gas up, come in, pee, and then grab something for myself as well."

"I'll pay you back later," she promised with a lusty wink.

I shook my head at her, in response to the lewd suggestion, and grinned back. She bounded off through the pumps and traffic to head into the store. I gassed up, grabbed the receipt, and headed inside.

Once I'd hit the head, I found Lydia browsing the snacks. As I stepped up beside her, she pinched me on the butt. She giggled when I shot her a side-eye.