Tow-Away Stowaway

~~~ Saturday (cont'd) ~~~

We spent the rest of the afternoon - and well into the evening - packing more and more loads of firewood to the back of the cabin.

When dusk began to make it hard to see, I told her that we needed to quit. She gave a heavy sigh of relief that made me laugh.

"How many is that now?" I asked Lydia, as we carted the last load up.

"I was supposed to be counting?!" she gasped.

I laughed and said, "How will we know when we're done?"

"If we need 9,000 of these, I don't expect we'll ever be done," she replied glumly.

"My estimate is probably overly conservative," I offered.

"I certainly hope so - but I'm worried that you're as right about this as you have been with everything else."

"There's that chance as well," I agreed.

She set the chainsaw and the little fuel can down by the porch and took her position by the pile of logs. I pulled logs from the wheelbarrow and handed them to her. She stacked them how I had shown her to do it - using the wall and the posts to brace the ends. We had ended up having to use one of the sheets of plywood to make an interior wall - to keep the logs from coming off of the porch - but it was working out.

"How many do you think we have?" she asked.

I started to try to remember how many times we'd made a trip with the wheelbarrow and then just decided to count the logs in the outer row and multiply by the number of rows that we'd stacked.

"Maybe a thousand," I told her.

"We need nine times that?" she asked, slightly exasperated.

"Gorgeous," I said. "At this rate, we only need to do this eight more times. That's much faster than I had expected - though it'll get harder and harder to find readily available wood to collect. We got a lot done today."

It was later than I wanted to eat dinner but I was starving. I threw some charcoal in the grill and fired it up. I had Lydia grab the rest of the eggs and sausage patties. I added a little cheese, threw it all in a skillet, and set it on the flames.

"Watch this and stir it until it's done," I told her. "I'm gonna go get the thighs prepped and we'll cook those as well. We can throw them in the cooler when they're done. They'll be only slightly less tasty cold. We'll have those for lunch tomorrow and then go make dinner for Melba tomorrow night."

"And fuck up her sheets," Lydia said with a grin.

I grinned back and shook my head at her.

By the time I came out with the thighs, the egg scramble was done.

"Plate that up," I told her. "I'm going to start these and we can eat while they cook. They'll take a while. I'd wanted these for tonight but I was too hungry to wait."

"Me too," she agreed.

I worked on getting the thighs spread out over the coals as soon as she went inside. I finished up just as she returned. She handed me a plate. We stood and watched the chicken begin to cook as we ate our food. She slipped back into the cabin and returned with two glasses of tea - which came from the jug of sun tea that I'd left sitting on the front porch that morning. There was no sugar in it - but it tasted divine.

"What did you do to the thighs?" she asked.

"Drown them in olive oil and then put far too much seasoned salt on them," I answered. "It's too much sodium but they taste amazing. We'll eat one hot off of the grill and save the rest for tomorrow."

As we ate, I turned the thighs, watching for when they would finally be done. Towards the end - after Lydia had already taken my plate inside, washed the dishes, and brought me more tea - I began to worry that I would not have enough heat left in the coals to finish the task. I finally cut the largest one open and peered inside.

In the light of the headlamp, which I had worn out of the cabin when I'd brought out the chicken, the meat looked done. I asked Lydia for a small saucer and then I carved the thing up into bite-sized pieces that would cool quickly when we blew on them.

I picked one up and popped it into her open mouth. She bit into it carefully and then started to chew. I laughed when she moaned.

"That's just... chicken?" she asked.

"And oil to seal in the juices - and too much sodium - yeah," I answered.

"That's so fucking good!" she moaned.

I fed her another bite and took a second one for myself.

"I like it a lot," I agreed. "It's dead simple. You can do it in the oven but it's so much better over flames or coals."

"I'm gonna want this almost as often as I want your cock inside of me," she purred.

After our midday interlude, I had not expected to want to have sex again - but those words had my cock standing tall - and I knew beyond any doubt that I'd be cumming inside of my lusty young lover again before we fell asleep.

Lydia found a cookie sheet and we set the chicken thighs on it and took it inside so that they could cool. I moved the grill to a safe spot and left it to cool as well. I headed into the cabin, closed and locked the door, and made sure the thighs were cooling.

Lydia's arms went around my waist. She leaned her face against my back and reached for my crotch. She snickered when I squirmed. Her naughty fingers soon had my cock aching for her again.

She took my hand, guided me to the mattress, and began to undress me. I kissed her and started peeling her clothes off as well. We both realized - at the same time - that we were covered in dried sweat and grit. We grabbed our things and headed for the wash basin.

"Can we see if Melba will let us do some laundry?" Lydia asked.

"I think you should have to do a load in a big metal tub - with a washboard - one time," I told her. "Before I let you enjoy the ease of modern clothes-washing."

The look she gave me made me laugh.

"I actually hadn't even thought about laundry," I admitted. "I'm worried our stuff is so grimy that it would fuck up her machine. Let's use this wash-water - once we're clean - and give our things a quick rinse. I'll string a line across the front porch and we'll hang these up to wear tomorrow. When we head to Cody next time, we'll do laundry there."

"Okay," she said. "I have my things from the other day as well."

"You can wash all you want until the water's too nasty to do any good," I told her. "We'll hang them up, pitch the water, and then see how clean they got. For now, we won't use soap - just water and some manual agitation."

"What's a washboard?" she asked.

I started to grab my phone - to show her - and then remembered that we didn't have service. I described it for her.

"I think I've seen one - in history class," she said.

"The natives used rocks or sand," I told her, "anything to get the crud to separate from the cloth. If I remember correctly, I believe that soap used to be made from wood ash and animal fat..."

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Yup," I answered.

We did our laundry as best we could and then she pitched the water a little way from the house while I strung a length of paracord between the posts on the front porch. We got everything hung up. Still naked, we hurried back into the cabin, giggling.

Lydia pulled me to the mattress once more and - by the light of the two LED "candles" that she'd moved to the front room from the bedroom - I watched her petite form as it wiggled and jiggled. I was already hard for her again.

She shoved me to the mattress and climbed on top of me. She wriggled and writhed on me - pressing all of her young, tender flesh to my old, tired skin. Her kisses were energetic and lusty. My cock was being abused and battered by her legs, thighs, vulva, mons, and tummy. I groaned into her kisses. She giggled at me.

As soon as she had me as hard as she wanted, she got me inside of her. She sat straight up on my cock and looked down at me.

"You feel so good," she said.

"You're an angel," I told her. "More beautiful than anything in this world."

She squeezed her tits in her hands and started slowly raising and lowering herself on my cock. She stared into my eyes the whole time she worked her fingers into her flesh and worked her vagina up and down my shaft.

I reached up, gripped her hips, and just held her. I gave her butt little squeezes as she fucked herself on my prick. Considering the fact that she'd already gotten one load from me, I was amazed to find that I was quickly coming back to a point of unavoidable release.

"Lydia...,"I warned her.

"Wait please," she said. "I'm close - but I've been holding off. I want a big one."

"Honey...," I groaned in complaint.

Back and forth we went - as she continued to torment my manhood with her churning channel. I warned her that the end was coming - and she begged me to hold off.

She rocked forward - onto her knees and I watched my penis appearing - slickened from her slender womanhood's sticky lubrication. She eased back down onto me again and I watched my length disappear - at the same time that I moaned because her naughty little pussy was wringing out my cock. I had just helped do the same with the wet clothes but this agitation and squeezing was driving me absolutely insane.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed her ass in one hand, pulled her down with the other, and began thrusting up into her hard and fast - racing towards my release. She bounced and mewled and moaned. Her tongue flicked out and brushed against my ear lobe and I exploded violently - at the same time that she did.

I began firing my load inside of her at the same time that I felt her hot, slick, stickiness splatter all over my crotch. She moaned like a whore, grabbed my face, and kissed me harder than she ever had. I was already panting for breath and it took every bit of my willpower not to shove her face away so that I could breathe.

Thankfully, the fevered kiss was short. She laid her cheek against mine and panted into my ear. I squeezed her ass and ran my hand - harshly - up and down her back - gripping, grabbing, and rubbing - unable to get enough of her.

"Fuck, that was so good...," she moaned.

I think I started to answer her - but I lost consciousness somewhere in the middle of trying to form the words.

~~~ Sunday ~~~

I woke up still holding Lydia against me. She was so petite and small that her weight felt like little more than having a body pillow lying on top of me. I gave her taut little butt a squeeze and kissed her temple. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

She giggled and said, "You fell asleep."

"More like passed out from too much sex," I told her, unable to keep from grinning.

"Gonna have to work on your stamina...," she teased.

I wanted to tell her that I didn't think it would do any good. At the same time, I was very much NOT opposed to her trying to prove me wrong.

Since we had already eaten all of the stuff in the cooler that would normally be called breakfast, we each grabbed a roasted chicken thigh. Fortunately - after I had passed out - Lydia had gotten up, put the stuff away, and then returned to bed - pulling the cover over the two of us.

"This is still pretty good cold," she said. "It was way better last night though."

"I agree," I replied. "We'll finish the cold stuff up for lunch and I promise to make it for you again soon. Actually, maybe I'll have you make it next time."

"Sounds good," she said, leaning over to give me a greasy kiss.

She snickered as our lips slid against each other.

"That's fun...," she said, grinning lewdly.

She glanced at my crotch.

"No," I said firmly. "You're gonna kill me off before I get this cabin fixed up enough for us to survive the winter."

She giggled again.

We washed our greasy hands in the washbasin with a little hand soap and then headed outside to see how the laundry was progressing. We both jumped back inside of the cabin as soon as we spotted our visitor.

We peeked through the crack in the door to see what our new little friend had been up to.

"Did he - or she - lick up the chicken grease?" Lydia asked at a whisper.

I looked down at the wooden planks that made up the surface of the front porch - they had been licked clean in several spots. I'd been a little careless with the chicken the previous night - and then hadn't really cleaned up well behind myself. There had been some small fragments of meat - along with fat-drippings - on the deck-boards. Those were all gone now.

I glanced at our clothes-line. Nothing looked disturbed. The grill had been knocked over. There was a bit of a mess on the ground where the ashes from the charcoal had been spilled. The metal grate was lying a few feet away. Apparently, the bear had tried to lick that clean as well. I doubted the thing tasted very good.

"I need to pee," Lydia whispered.

"Let's go check the back and make sure there's only one of them," I told her.

"The bucket is sitting out there," she said.

"I doubt he'll have bothered that," I told her. "I'll keep watch while you go and then go after you."

We snuck out, took our turns with the bucket, and then I took it past the outhouse to empty. Lydia laughed at me - running around naked - carrying a nasty plastic bucket in my hands. I returned the plastic pail to its spot and we went back inside to clean up.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

"We could go back to bed," I suggested, "but you wore me out and I'm not sure I could do any more than just cuddle - or maybe just sleep."

She snickered.

"We could go out the back, sneak around to the truck, and make a run to Cody," I offered.

Since she was agreeable to try, we grabbed the large cloth bag that I used for soiled clothing - and tossed in the rags and things that were lying around the house. I also grabbed the empty water jug. I looked out the front window - to the spot where the bear was napping - and hit the button to unlock the truck doors. The animal didn't react. We slipped out the back, locked the door, and circled to the west. We peered around the side of the cabin - to make sure the bear was still where it had been - and then dashed for the truck.

I got most of the way there before remembering the laundry on the make-shift clothes-line at the front of the cabin. The bear still wasn't moving so I dashed over, grabbed those items, and carried them with me. The water jug went into the back seat. The laundry sack was already there - so I just tossed the other garments on top of it, slammed the door shut, and yanked open my door.

"The bear's up!" Lydia gasped.

I slid behind the wheel and closed the door. The animal was eyeballing us but hadn't moved. I started the truck, eased away from the cabin, and turned around to head down the lane.

"He's nosing around the front porch," Lydia reported. She snickered and said, "He smells that chicken and knows he missed out."

"We'll see if Melba's up and let her know," I told the blonde.

"We could stop and see Ted about the hardware for the panels in the back," she suggested.

"It's Sunday," I reminded her. "If there's a church around here, they might be there - but I doubt anybody's open for business. I was a little surprised to find him there on Saturday but I think he's like Melba and Sue - and practically lives at his place of business."

"Shit," Lydia said quietly. "I never thought about that. Never having a day off would suck."

I nodded and said, "Which is why they're probably not going to be doing much today. Might not be much happening in whatever that next town down the road is either."

We pulled up in front of Melba's Mercantile to find the "open" sign in the window. We stepped inside to find the owner sitting on the counter.

"I can't believe you're open," Lydia said.

"Just in the morning on Sundays," Melba replied. "Sue and Ted both go to church over in Valley City but I was raised Lutheran and the closest one is too far for me to drive. I don't do much on Sundays. I might catch a service on the TV this afternoon - or maybe not."

"Valley City's the next town?" I asked.

She nodded.

"That was the address on the GPS," I remembered aloud, nodding.

"Kennett ain't big enough to have a post office or be mentioned on most digital maps," she replied. "Most of those not from around here aren't even sure it has a name."

"I was beginning to wonder," I replied, grinning.

"What brings you two in so early?" she asked, grinning back.

"A bear!" Lydia exclaimed.

"No shit?"

"We headed outside to grab our clothes from the line and he was sleeping on the front porch," Lydia told her. "We cooked chicken thighs last night and he'd licked the grease off of the planks out front. Knocked over the grill too."

"Must've smelled real good to coax him out of hiding," Melba said, grinning more broadly.

"We're gonna run to Cody and do some laundry," the blonde told her.

"You could use my machines," Melba offered.

"We talked about that," I said. "Our stuff is a little gritty and I don't want to ruin your machines. We rinsed the worst out - which is why the stuff was hanging outside - but I think I'd rather go to a laundromat."

"There's one in Valley City if you don't want to go clear to Cody. There's a little grocery store there that carries a bit of produce. He's got a section with coolers and freezers for stuff I don't carry. If you're already heading to Cody, though, you'll get it cheaper there. It's a lot quicker just to jog to Valley City and back though."

"I want to go to Cody this time," Lydia said, looking at me.

"Okay," I replied.

"I want to buy a couple more... shirts," she informed me.

"Yeah," Melba said. "You'll need to go to the big city for that stuff."

"You need us to grab you anything?" I asked her.

"Nope," she answered, smiling from ear to ear. "Already bought the stuff for you to make me chicken alfredo tonight."

"Is the alfredo from a jar?" Lydia asked.

"Yes, why?" Melba asked.

"Ugh! No. Grandma taught me how to make it so it tastes almost like Olive Garden. I have the ingredients in my phone. We'll grab the stuff while we're in Cody. You can throw that jar of crap away."

Melba started laughing.

"Well, look at you, little miss French chef!"

"I think it's Italian, actually," Lydia replied, blushing.

"She's too cute," Melba said, looking at me.

"Don't I know it," I replied.

Suddenly thinking about just why I thought she was so cute, I felt my cheeks flush - and then Melba's did. She looked away and cleared her throat.

"So - see you two when you get back?" she asked.

"Okay if we get here mid-afternoon?" I inquired.

"Probably best to leave your wooly friend alone and give him time to decide that sticking around would be pointless," she replied. "We can sit out back and have some tea and visit until dinner time - or you could get your showers in early - makes no never mind to me. I gotta admit, I'm curious to see how good Lydia's alfredo recipe is..."

"It's really good," Lydia said, "but it's Grandma's - not mine."

Melba gave her a loving smile.

Lydia hooked her arm through mine.

"C'mon, Mr. Simms, let's get to town," she said.

"You call him Mr. Simms?" Melba asked. "I thought you two were..."

Lydia nibbled her bottom lip and blushed furiously.

"I... It's... like a pet name...," the blonde said nervously.

Melba blushed just as much and said, "Not my business..."

"I should... probably call him Lee... when we're not... alone."

I laughed and scooped her up, carrying her towards the door.

"As much fun as it is - watching you two blush like schoolgirls...," I said.

"I think your girlfriend *IS* a schoolgirl, Mr. Simms," Melba hollered after me, laughing.

I dearly hoped that she didn't see me blushing as I headed for the truck. I opened Lydia's door and slid her onto the seat. She grabbed my face and kissed me.

"I love you, Mr. Simms," she said seductively, "and I love being your naughty schoolgirl."

She kissed me again - and laughed at the blush that still covered my face. I climbed behind the wheel, started the truck, and headed towards Valley City - and then Cody.