Picking Up A Hitchhiker Pt 01

Author's Note:

Welcome! This is a story about coercion and self discovery. The premise being that a 45 year old man named James comes across a 22 year old girl named Taylor hitchhiking down the side of a South Carolina interstate. Along the way, James falls in love with Taylor, while Taylor comes to see James as a replacement for the father she is running away from. However, before James falls completely head-over-heels for Taylor, he sees an opportunity to use her as a means of payment - encouraging her to hook up with various men along their travels in exchange for food, a Tesla recharge, and places to stay. Both characters have pasts that they want to flee, and both have secrets they want to hide. Early in the story you will find a few flashbacks that give a little insight into what kind of people James and Taylor are, and why they make some of the decisions they do. Part One is more of an introduction to the story than anything, and Part Two will dive in to the nitty gritty details of this coercive relationship.

PRESENT DAY

Taylor kicks up little clouds of dust with her white sneakers as she hike's down the shoulder of I20 about a mile outside of her small South Carolina hometown. She is headed west with aspirations of Hollywood - if only she can get there. Running away from home has major disadvantages. For a girl that has spent the first 22 years of her life relying on others, she never really had much of an opportunity to build up a nest egg; or any sort of savings account for that matter. The $76 in her checking account won't get her far, and it will only be a matter of time before her Daddy shuts off her AMEX card. And so she walks - thumb in the air and duffle bag slung over her back as gravel dirt clings to her black leggings and her golden ponytail bobs and swishes side-to-side while her cropped white tank-top ripples in the wind, sending a breeze up her shirt that turns her nipples hard.

Taylor is barely 20 minutes into her trip and already realizing that she is not dressed for a hike, not well enough equipped to pay for so much as bus fare, and she significantly over packed. Feeling defeated, she is just about to pull her iPhone out of her back pocket and call Daddy to pick her up when she hears wheels on gravel behind her.

"Thank the Lord,"

she mutters under her breath, turning to see a sleek black Tesla rolling to a stop followed by a billowing cloud of dust. Taylor jogs over to the passenger side window, dropping her duffel to the gravel and shading her eyes of the sun with her left hand as she peers into the rolled down window.

James celebrated his 45th birthday with a divorce settlement. After a months long, arduous battle, he was ready to be done with it all, more than anything. Stacy got the house, the dog, and half of the finances. Of course, the divorce itself was long, messy, and expensive and by the time it was all settled, there wasn't much left in terms of cash. It didn't help that Stacy had no income of her own. If you ask James, He would say there is a lesson to be had there - don't marry the

'trophy'

10 years your junior, and don't let her spend all day at the country club while you are off generating the sole income for the household.

Of course, James always had a thing for younger women. He had known for a long time that Stacy married him for his money, but he just never thought she would actually divorce him and take him for all he's worth. James is not completely without blame, of course. He spent the better part of two years fawning over the neighbor's 20 year old daughter, Hannah. Laying out by the pool on her belly, bikini top untied to avoid tan lines, oiled from neck to foot and glistening in the afternoon light; How could any man with a pulse

not

be intrigued? When he sees this young, petite blonde hiking down the side of the Interstate, it twangs at his heartstrings - he is reminded of Hannah.

"Everything all right?" James asks as the little blonde girl leans against his car with a warm smile, batting her long lashes and blinking down at him with those big brown eyes of hers. She leans on her left arm, her forearm pressing against her breast and causing her stiff nipple to press tightly against the fabric of her thin top.

Thank the Lord for the 'burn-bra' era,

he thinks, sending up a silent prayer to whoever may be listening as his cock kicks against his jeans - it's quite evident that this girl isn't wearing a bra, if she even owns one at all.

"My goodness, am I happy to see you!" Taylor exclaims in her cute southern drawl as she lets out a sigh of relief and smiles down at the man in the driver's seat. He has short, dark hair, cropped on the sides and longer on top, peppered with grey. Upon first glance, she would wager he's about her daddy's age, maybe a few years younger. He's a good looking guy, cleanly cut facial hair trimmed short, a simple black t-shirt that fits snugly to a body that is fairly fit, yet rusted over with a rounded

'dad bod'

in the gut. Running away from home, Taylor feels as if the connection she had with her father has been severed; she was always a Daddy's girl. Suddenly this friendly, good-looking man rolls up beside her in a Tesla like a knight in shining armor - or rather a protector to fill in the role she vacated her father from.

It's quite evident to James that this girl is completely out of her element. White sneakers, leggings, a tank-top that leaves little to the imagination - she looks like she's headed from the sorority house to the lecture hall, not hiking down the side of an interstate. "What are you running from, little lady? A cute girl like you shouldn't be hiking down the interstate all alone." He lets his eyes drift to the opening of her shirt, a clear line of sight to her cleavage on display from the way she leans over the window, peering into the car.

"We're all running from one thing or another, aren't we?" Taylor teases, skirting the topic and steering the conversation back in her favor. The way he calls her

cute

makes her blush and she instinctively, yet unintentionally, bats her long lashes as she twirls her ponytail around her right pointer finger - a nervous tic. "Are you feeling generous today, Mister? You said it best; the side of I20 is no place for a girl like me. Can I hitch a ride? I'm heading to L.A., but I will go as far as you're willing to take me."

She's flirting with me,

James realizes. He's quite certain of it. The telltale signs are all there - batting the lashes, biting the lip, twirling the ponytail. Four of his six inches kick against his right thigh and his brain goes foggy, the head between his thighs hijacking his thoughts and speaking on his behalf. "I'm not headed anywhere in particular. I can take you west, maybe even all the way to L.A." The girl's face lights up and she reaches for the door handle, but he cuts her off mid-motion. "That is, under one condition. Flash me first."

Taylor's heart drops into the pit of her stomach at those words as she stops her hand in mid air as she was reaching for the door handle.

flash him?

A million different thoughts race through her head, but two primary options boil to the surface. She can either tuck her tail between her legs and call Daddy... or she can flash this stranger for a ride. The angel on her shoulder tells her to be a good little Christian girl and turn back. There's a life for her here in this small hometown of hers; a life with Jake. She can feel the ring burning a hole in her bag just thinking about Jake, but that's a story for another day. The devil on her

other

shoulder, however, sees things differently. She has already broken her vow with Jesus more times than she could count. Besides, isn't part of the reason she is running in the first place to get away from a boring, predictable life on the farm with Jake?

Taylor steps back from the car, sucking in and letting out a deep breath as she makes a quick decision, and reaches for the hem of her shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bare chest beneath. Her perky little B cups plop out, bouncing and jiggling in the open air as a cool breeze kisses the already stiff nipples, prickling her chest with gooseflesh. She watches the disbelief on the man's face turn into appreciation and, eventually, satisfaction. It's honestly quite riveting to be so daring, and especially to have such a positive reception to it.

James watches with his heart in his throat as the little blonde girl pushes off of the car, standing tall - or as tall as a girl of 5'2" can stand anyway. She rolls her eyes in a,

men only want one thing,

type of reaction as she steps back a few feet. At first James is angry with himself. He's angry for letting himself think with his cock instead of his brain. The two of them haven't exchanged so much as

names

with one another, why would she flash him? However, just as the thought surfaces, it dissipates as she grabs her shirt and begins to lift it. His jaw falls open as she lifts her shirt to her chin, her perky breasts jiggling just slightly as they sit perfectly centered on her chest, no sag whatsoever. It only lasts for a few seconds, but James feels suspended in time - like he has the remote from Adam Sandler's 'Click;' time standing still. When she finally does pull her shirt back down, James wordlessly pops open the front trunk. He really should get out and help her, but he's a little indisposed at the moment. As the girl disappears out of view to put her bag in the trunk, James adjusts himself, pushing his fully erect cock between his thighs and, hopefully, out of view.

"I'm Taylor, by the way," she says as she plops down into the passenger seat and closes the door behind her. Her ears begin to ring from the silence as the whooshing and whirling of cars on the interstate is muffled down to a nearly nonexistent hum. "I usually introduce myself

before

I show people my boobs," she teases.

"James," he replies, awkwardly reaching out a hand as his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. Seeing her boobs was great and all, but he didn't really take into account that they would then be traveling together afterward. That makes for quite an awkward relationship from the get-go. A shiver runs down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he takes her soft, dainty hand in his rough, worn grip. "Yeah, sorry about that, I-"

"Don't sweat it," she replies, cutting him off. "I respect the confidence, and, honestly? I'll take it as a compliment," she says, looking down at her chest and grabbing her boobs over her shirt, giving them a gentle shake. The gesture nearly causes James to pass out as his cock kicks and spits a dribble of precum into his pants. "I mean, I think it's a compliment," she continues. "Unless you were hoping for something bigger. I'm a small girl."

"

NO!

uhhh...

ahem...

No, they're great - perfect actually... I mean... what I meant is that they look good." James is scrambling and squirming and making a fool of himself, but she just giggles and shrugs it off, clearly enjoying the reaction. "It's okayyyy," she says, dragging out her response. "It's nice to meet you, James. Where are you headed?"

As she changes the subject, James puts the car in drive and pulls out onto the interstate. "I'm not really headed anywhere in particular. Just hitting the road and seeing where it takes me, I guess."

"What are

you

running from?" She asks quite calmly. "Must be running from something." Taylor slips her feet out of her shoes and places her white sock-covered toes on the dashboard, hugging her knees to her chest.

"You shouldn't sit like that," James replies instinctively. He may not be a father, but he still has the paternal instinct to protect this young woman at all costs. "You could really injure yourself if we crash."

"Then don't crash," Taylor teases, flashing him a sly grin that sparkles in her eyes. "Besides, don't these things

prevent

crashes?" she asks, rubbing the seat near her left ass cheek. "And don't change the subject, Mister."

"Right," James replies, forcing his gaze from Taylor's exposed ankles back to the road. "My birthday was two days ago," James begins.

"Happy birthday!" Taylor replies with enthusiasm, her face lighting up as she turns to look at James, that sparkle twinkling in her brown eyes once again. "We can just consider my flash a birthday present, then!"

"I also finalized my divorce that day," James continues, sobering the mood.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Taylor replies, her voice mellowing out. After a brief pause she follows up with, "divorce titties?" Both Taylor and James burst out into a fit of laughter at that.

James takes his right hand off the wheel, Holding it at "12 O'clock" with his left hand as he holds his right hand at chest level, flexing and rolling his knuckles, trying not to wince in pain - at least not too visibly. Age is a bitch, and arthritis has begun to torture his hands in recent years, getting worse by the day. "Can I?" Taylor asks, cautiously reaching for his hand. "Uh... yeah, sure," James replies, giving his hand over to her. "The same thing happens to Daddy after a long day on the farm," Taylor informs him, taking his hand in hers and gently massaging the joints. "Do you want to talk about it?" James looks at her with a furrowed brow, too focused on the feeling of her hands kneading into his and determined to keep his cock from throbbing in his jeans to process what she is asking. "The divorce?" she reminds him.

"Oh, right, that." He would rather

not

speak on that, but feels as if he owes her at least a little bit, for the flashing. Besides, he needs

something

to distract him from Taylor's rubbing before he bursts in his pants. "There's not a whole lot to say," he begins. "Stacy was... Stacy

is

ten years younger than me, and we are in very different stages of our lives," he says, despite the fact that he is already falling hard for this pretty little blonde girl that is even younger than Stacy. You would think he had learned his lesson.

"She ultimately found someone younger with just as much money." He tries his best to stay focused on the road and his story and not fixate on Taylor rubbing his hand. Thank God for auto pilot. "Of course," he continues, "that didn't stop her from using

my

money on the best divorce lawyer in Florida and taking me for all I was worth," he says bitterly. "Pretty much all I have left to my name is this Tesla."

Taylor's heart skips a beat at those last words, and she tries her best not to let it show. She has lived a very privileged life and has always had money at her fingertips. A well dressed, clean shaven older man driving a Tesla seemed like an easy fallback to a life of familiarity.

He's broke?!

Taylor is on the verge of a panic attack but tries her best to keep it concealed, digging harder into his palm as her heart races in her chest. It was so easy for her to see James as a replacement father figure that could provide for her, but now? He's just some old guy that she showed her tits to.

"What about you?" James asks, interrupting her thoughts. "I shared my reason for running, care to share yours?" Without asking, James pulls his right hand away and reaches across his lap with his left, presenting it for the same treatment. Taylor takes his hand and begins the massaging process once again.

"Well... like I said before, Daddy is a farmer," Taylor begins, letting her story distract her from her panic. "My parents were never the biggest fans of the boys I dated and there was this boy named Jake that lived a few farms down from us. his older brother took over their family operation and my brother, Henry, didn't want to take over the family business and I don't blame him." Taylor loses herself in the story, massaging away at James' hand as she sets his wrist on her thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. "My parents got the bright idea of setting me up with Jake. I was heartbroken at the time from a messy breakup and Jake is three years older than me. he seemed so mature, he's a good Christian boy, and I knew he could take care of me the way Daddy always has. Jake is a great guy, he really is. he's just... kind of boring, to be honest. I wanted something different for my life, so here I am," Taylor says, leaving out a lot detail while covering the basics.

- -

TWO DAYS PRIOR: TAYLOR

Life these days is much of the same monotony. Taylor attended a few years of college after high school, but ended up dropping out at Daddy's urging. in his words, "Who needs a degree to run a farmhouse?" Of course,

she

wouldn't be running any households, just look at Mom. She cooks, she cleans, and she cares for her children and her husband. Call that 'running a household' if you'd like, but Taylor sees it for what it is -

voluntary slavery.

Yet, that is the life Taylor has lived for nearly two years now. She helps her mom cook three meals a day, cleans the house, washes Daddy and Jake's clothes, cleans cow shit off their boots, makes their bed every morning - the list goes on and on.

Jake moved in a little over a year ago. They had been 18 months into their relationship at the time. It was actually Daddy's idea. Why not move in and work full-time on the farm if he's going to take it over some day anyway? They started construction on a new farmhouse 6 months ago. The new house is right across the drive from the main house. Who doesn't want to live 50 yards away from their parents for the rest of their lives?

After slaving away to put dinner on the table, both Daddy and Jake get up from dinner without so much as a thank you, leaving their plates where they lie as they both head to the living room. they occupy opposite sides of the couch, both reclining their feet as Daddy turns on the news. It's a nightly routine for them. Just as they do every morning, they watch FOX News and check the crop yields and catch up on the very right-winged local and national headlines every evening. As Taylor cleans up the scraps of the dinner she made, Daddy calls from the other room requesting a beer. Like clockwork, Jake echoes his request and, as usual, Taylor stops what she's doing to tend to their every need.

Taylor has been fed up with this life for some time, and tonight she has garnered up the courage to say something. With Jake upstairs showering, she sneaks into Daddy's den where he is seated behind a desk, reviewing the month's finances. "Daddy," she says, interrupting him as she cautiously tiptoes into the room. "Can we talk?"

"Of course, Buttercup," he replies, as if she's still 14 instead of a grown woman of 22. She closes the door behind her and takes a seat in the chair across from him, and he can immediately tell something is off. Gerald Hawkins III is a large man - 6'4," 250 pounds of lean muscle and leathery skin. You would never guess that a tiny little thing like Taylor was fathered by the likes of him, but you can see her father in her - they have the same almond shaped eyes and she has her daddy's nose, albeit much smaller to fit a woman's face.

"If it's about the kitchen again, I don't want to hear it, Tay. Nobody needs marble countertops in their kitchen."

"It's not about that, Daddy," she replies, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with her fingers in her lap, working up the courage to say what she came to say.

"Sit up straight, young lady, and look me in the eyes when you speak to me," her father says in a stern, booming voice that startles her to attention. She shoots upright and locks her eyes on his. "Yes, Sir," she replies, dutifully.

"It's about... wellumm..." She takes a deep breath and lets it all out. "Daddy I don't want to marry Jake and be a farmer's wife. I don't think I really even love him... not really."