Love will Find a Way

My best friend at school was a boy called Simon Doughty. We went to primary and secondary school together, always in the same class. We lived in the same street and played together out of school. My father died when I was ten years old and my mother never remarried so, I suppose, Simon's father became a sort of father figure for me. He was a long- distance lorry driver and so would often be away from home for days at a time but when he was at home he was also there for days. He loved gardening, more for vegetables than for flowers, and took great pride in his allotment. He was a big, slow-moving, muscular man, very hairy, with the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. I say slow-moving but it was really that he was so comfortable in his massive body that he didn't feel the need to rush about to prove anything. I have seen him move quickly when need arose.

Simon wasn't interested in growing things but I was and from the age of twelve or thirteen I often spent part of each Sunday with Mr Doughty on the allotment. He would give my mother vegetables and pretend that they were my wages for helping him. In fact, he was the kindest of men and could see that we weren't at all well off despite my mum having two jobs. And we were far from being the only neighbours who benefited from Mr Doughty's produce.

I was eighteen years old, helping Mr Doughty on the allotment, when something happened which changed my life. It was a hot day and we had both taken off our shirts. I had not realised quite how magnificent his body was. I found myself staring at him and suddenly I was imagining being enfolded in those tremendous arms and his making love to me. He looked at me and something unspoken went between us. He blushed and hastily put his shirt back on. From then he ceased to ask if I wanted to go to the allotment with him. I turned up on a few occasions but it was clear that he didn't want me there and I decided to put him out of my mind. I started to look at other boys, hoping that I should feel what I had felt for him, but I simply didn't. I still saw him sometimes when I went to his house with Simon. From time to time Mrs Doughty would give us tea but Mr Doughty usually managed to be absent on those occasions.

Simon was going to Birmingham University and I should have gone to Bristol but, only weeks before I was to start my course, my mother died. University now became an impossibility. I needed to earn my own living. The day after the funeral Mrs Doughty had invited me to lunch. Simon and Mr Doughty were there and in the course of conversation Mrs Doughty said, 'Geoff, I have an idea. You need a new mate for deliveries. Laurie needs a job.' She turned to me and said, 'I know it isn't what you hoped for but couldn't you try it for a year whilst you look round for something more suitable?'

I expected Mr Doughty to put the kibosh on the idea but, to my surprise, he asked me if I might be interested and, equally to my own surprise, I said yes. I didn't need a Heavy Goods Vehicle Licence since I wouldn't be driving. I started two days later.

We both found that we enjoyed each other's company. Any embarrassment left over from that day on the allotment soon vanished. At first I worked with Geoff, as I learnt to call him, on day jobs, then came our first overnight together. We stayed in a motel, which was mainly used by lorry drivers, near Newcastle. We shared a room with twin beds. Geoff changed into his night things whilst I was in the bathroom and then he went in there to give me some privacy for changing. I tried not to look at his body when he came out but he was wearing shorts and a top and he looked glorious. I turned the other way and pressed my hard-on into the bed to hide it. Soon I heard his regular breathing as he slept but it took me some time to go to sleep and then I dreamed of being ravished by the hunk in the next bed.

We went on like this for three months. I had my nineteenth birthday on the road somewhere near Carlisle. We both had rather a lot to drink; Geoff gave me a bear hug when he wished me a happy birthday and I hoped that when we went to our room he might, just possibly, follow it up, but he didn't, and I spent the night trying to jerk off quietly with him only feet away.

As time went on we became more distant rather than less. I now realise that we were denying even liking each other for fear it might lead to more. Though not a usual thing it isn't unknown for a man to have a wife at home and to share sex with a buddy on the road. I knew that I longed for Geoff to take me and make me his road wife but he gave every indication of wanting less rather than more to do with me. I was nineteen and he was forty-five and I just knew that he was my ideal man.

Much later he told me that one evening, when we had booked into one of our usual stopping places in the West Country, Freda, the lady in charge, whom Geoff had known for many years, had asked him if we should prefer a double bed. He had denied it hotly and she had said, 'Geoff, we've known each other for twenty years or more. It's time you and he accept what you feel for each other. I call you two the sun and the sunflower. I've seen how your face lights up when he comes into a room and his beautiful face, for he is a beautiful man, follows your every move. I think you love him and he loves you and you will only have yourself to blame if he gets desperate and goes after somebody else. He needs something you can give him and if you don't someone else will. He isn't a child any more. He's an adult, and a very attractive one, with an adult's needs.'

Who knows how long this situation would have gone on? I suspect that I should have worked out my year with Geoff and then left. I feel deluged in horror when I consider what I should have missed if that had happened.

We were making a delivery in Brighton and I told Geoff I was going to the pictures. Instead I found my way to one of the gay clubs, where I eyed up the talent and was delighted to see several men doing the same to me. A man who looked a bit like Geoff, big, muscular, hairy, offered me a drink and I accepted. He slid his hand down to cup my right buttock and squeezed gently. I smiled at him and he leant in to kiss me when a hand fell on his shoulder and spun him round.

'This little lady's taken,' said Geoff, who had followed me to the club, not believing that I was going to the pictures at all.

'By what right...' I started to say but Geoff crushed his mouth onto mine and my arms went naturally around his neck and I knew I was where I was intended to be. The other man saw the situation at a glance and backed off courteously.

'What? Why now?' I stuttered.

'Because I saw I was losing you. Because I'm a stupid cunt. And because I love you,' said my adorable man. I had never heard Geoff swear, even under provocation.

'Please will you be my stupid cunt?' I asked.

'I will,' he replied, 'so long as you let me fill your cunt and make you my wife.'

Two weeks later we went to the West Country again. Geoff phoned ahead to his friend, Freda, the manageress and asked for a double bed. She really went to town. She gave us a room in her own house. There was low lighting, scented candles and a bottle of champagne waiting in an ice bucket beside the bed when we arrived and she had laid out on the bed for me a see-through nightie and for Geoff the briefest of transparent briefs. Another nice touch was a card on the bed welcoming Mr and Mrs Geoffrey Doughty for a belated honeymoon night. I put it secretly in my holdall and I have it still.

I realise that I haven't adequately described either me or my husband. Him first: he is six feet eight inches tall, weighs about 280 pounds, has arms so muscular it takes both my hands to circle his biceps and his thighs and chest are magnificent. His neck is a broad column with a protruding Adam's apple I love to feel bobbing up and down as he drinks my milk from my clitie, and his cock and balls are phenomenal. Think two tennis balls and eleven inches of man meat so thick it took me weeks to learn how to take it into my throat. His hair is black and covers most of his body but it is beginning to grizzle into silver at his temples and beside his nipples.

I am less interesting being just under six feet tall and slim, though my husband is kind enough to tell me I have the prettiest legs, arms, breasts and buttocks he has ever seen. I am dark haired with dark eyes but have very little hair on my body and I now shave all of it, except on my head, because he likes me to be smooth.

Our first night in Brighton was ecstatic but difficult in that we had separate beds and, although we tried pushing them together, Geoff fucked me so energetically the beds kept coming apart. Exeter was the real beginning of our married life. Needless to say the night- wear so thoughtfully put out for us didn't remain on us for long. Geoff stripped me and laid me down on our bed as soon as we got in. We didn't bother with dinner. We were all the food each other needed. Of course, long before Exeter my husband had transformed my anus into my cunt and had filled me over and over with his sperm. Now we went through a known ritual of fucking and sucking which plunged both of us into ecstasy. I explored the crannies and crevices of my magnificent husband's body with hands, tongue, fingers and lips as he did to me.

His tongue rasped my pucker into life, making her ready to receive her master, before he opened her with one, then two fingers and inserted the very tip of his helmet head and pushed. She recognised her lord and opened to him. More and more of the great column entered her and my legs widened as my husband forced them apart. I felt his balls rest on my cheeks and knew that I contained all of my glorious man. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I sucked on it as he started to pound me into indescribable joy. Six, seven times that night he entered me and made my cunt a home for his cock. Six, seven times he filled my womb with our babies. The next morning Freda, at breakfast, gave us a tiny wedding cake she had baked and said, with a twinkle in her eye, 'I hope you slept well.'

Having each other only when we were travelling was never going to be enough. When we were doing deliveries from home Geoff would come back with me to my house and we would make love before he had to go back to his own home and pretend that we had only just returned. I felt sorry that we were deceiving Mrs Doughty, particularly since she had been so kind to me when my mother died, but Geoff and I knew that we were each other's soulmate and we lived in a permanent state of sexual arousal towards each other. No sooner had his cock slipped out of my cunt than I longed for him to come into me again and fill me anew.

When Simon came home from university for his first summer vacation matters came to a head. Mrs Doughty was clearly unhappy and at first Simon and she thought that Geoff had found another woman, someone neither of them knew, on his travels. They questioned me and I promised that he had done no such thing. Then Geoff and I went on an overnight to Glasgow. We returned the next day but pretended that we had to be another night on the road so that Geoff could spend a whole night with me in my house. We parked the lorry out of sight in the yard and it was bad luck that Simon decided to go to the yard late that night to look for a motor bike his dad stored there. He found the lorry and came knocking on my door in the early hours. Half asleep I answered and Simon pushed his way past me and went upstairs to discover Geoff naked in my bed.

As you can imagine the next months were dreadful for all of us. Glenys (Mrs Doughty) was distraught and understandably furious, as was Simon. By seven o'clock the morning after Simon had discovered our secret we saw black rubbish bags lying outside their gate. Geoff investigated and found them to contain his clothes. The divorce was acrimonious. We were ostracised by our neighbours, insulting slogans were spray-painted on our garden wall, and twice we had to call the police because hostile groups of youths invaded our garden and threw stones at our windows.

However, from our point of view there was one great benefit of the situation. Geoff now spent every night with me in our bed. I allowed myself to accept what I had always known, that I wanted to be entirely Geoff's wife. I wanted to look after him in every way a wife would; I wanted to dress as the girl I had always secretly known myself to be and I wanted him to treat me as a woman. Hesitantly I told Geoff and he said he wanted me to be his little girly wife. He undressed me and named each of my parts: my titties, which he kissed before teasing my nipples with his lips; my clitie, where he brought cock and balls together in his mouth and sucked out my milk until I cried out in wonderment at his skill in sending me over the edge; and my cunt, my vagina and my womb where he entered and sowed his seed. Together we went on line and bought my female clothing.

The day after his divorce came through Geoff and I married. I changed my name by deed-pole from Laurie Nichols to Laura Doughty. My wedding ring is my most prized possession.

Living where we were had become impossible and, for all our sakes, we decided we must move. Selling my house was not difficult. We had three good offers within hours of putting it on the market. The difficulty would be in finding a suitable yard for the lorry. In the divorce agreement Glenys had retained the marital home, whilst the yard remained Geoff's. He was to continue to pay a maintenance allowance to Glenys for life or until she remarried, and to Simon for the duration of his education. Fortunately, from everyone's point of view, Glenys found happiness and remarried five years later.

Our immediate dilemma was solved for us by Freda. Geoff had a telephone call from her. A house had come up for sale bordering onto the land occupied by her stop-over and she was willing to rent to us a parking place for the lorry on an initial occupancy of ten years. Since it didn't matter where we were based so long as we had easy access to the motorway system we immediately drove down there, saw the house, agreed the price and started the tedious and costly process of buying it. Geoff sold his yard to his main local competitor who had been looking enviously at it for as long as Geoff could remember.

The move was a godsend in so many ways. It made a new beginning for Geoff and me. I felt free to be a woman and Geoff found new pleasure in dressing me in girly underwear, only to undress me and make me his wife all over again. I became his little girly wife and he became by big bear, daddy husband.

Freda and I rapidly became friends. I could tell that she had, at one time, hoped that she and Geoff might become an item, and she still felt fondly towards him, but, oddly, it was as though I, through being Geoff's wife and being so much younger than they were, had become to her the daughter they might have made together.

When I went with Geoff on the lorry I continued to dress as a man but it felt unreal to me. Within a matter of months at home I dressed always as a woman. Freda advised me on clothes, makeup, deportment and, one day, she came over to the house whilst Geoff and I were having breakfast, to ask if I could help her out. One of her receptionists had phoned in sick and she wondered if I could take charge of the desk for a few hours. I agreed with some trepidation but it went off so well that I became Freda's backup. A very few of the regulars had met me as Geoff's driving mate but apart from the odd joking remark they treated me exactly the same as the other women and I was pleased when I came in for my share of wolf whistles, admiring glances and offers for me to sample their wares.

Geoff's and my private life had become better than anything I could ever have dreamed. I was now the woman I had always known myself to be. I loved shaving my body, feeling the smoothness of my clitie as I enclosed her in silk, feeling the glide of nylon stockings up my shaven legs. Geoff and I discussed endlessly whether he preferred me in thigh highs or wearing a suspender belt. We never came to a conclusion but he seemed to enjoy both. I adored slipping on my bra and pouring a frock over my head, applying makeup and arranging my hair, as my husband watched, helped and hindered, and undressed me again to ram his urgent cock into my needy cunt.

Sometimes, when one or other of Geoff's old trucking friends is coming to Freda's park, Geoff will invite him to a meal. He always introduces me as his wife. Clearly all these men will have heard the story of our getting together and invariably they treat me entirely as a lady. They are gentlemen in the proper sense of the word. When I am at the reception desk I have never been made to feel uncomfortable. I feel a certain frisson on the occasions when a trucker cannot hide his attraction to me and I have developed a good line in demure, downcast eyes, which often means that I see the erection beginning in their trousers and I know that they are going to go into their chalet to wank themselves off thinking about me. I never mention this to Geoff, of course, but I can tell that Freda knows and sometimes she will wink at me as though to say, 'There goes another one, you naughty girl.' But she knows that my love for Geoff is rock-solid. His is the only cock that will ever enter this cunt or this mouth. These hands will never caress another man and this body belongs to my husband absolutely.

One morning, after a night of even more than usually strenuous love-making, my husband and I were sitting at the breakfast table when Freda knocked at the door to ask me if I could help out. We felt, and looked, glutted, sated with love. My husband ate with one hand whilst stroking my face with the other. Freda took one look at us and said, 'Forget I came. You two are going nowhere except back to bed today. You look like an advert for the perfect fuck.' She left and we returned to bed to continue perfecting it.