Trucker Mother

When the dryer stopped, I started sorting my stuff out of the heap. I'd found two pairs of underwear and three socks when I pulled a white T-shirt out of the pile and a pink bra came with it.

Sandy giggled.

"That's probably mine."

She picked it up, stuck one cup inside the other and put it in her laundry bag, but not before I saw how large the cups were and that it had four hooks on the band. I always thought my mom was pretty big, and her bras only had three hooks.

Somehow, my stuff had gotten tangled up with Sandy's in the dryer. I remember starting to fold up a long-sleeve shirt and finding a lump in one sleeve. I figured a sock had gotten stuck down the sleeve, and when I pulled the lump out, it was black, but it wasn't one of my black socks. When I realized what I was holding, I dropped it like it was a hot rivet. The little bikini panties were smooth, silky nylon except for the transparent mesh panel in the front, and there was a little bow just above that.

I didn't know Sandy was watching me until she giggled again. When I looked at her, she was holding a pair of my briefs.

"I'm pretty sure those won't fit you. Wanna trade?"

By the time we had our laundry separated I'd found another pair of panties - this time pink lace boy shorts - stuck down the leg of my jeans, and another bra that had gotten tangled up with one of my shirts. This bra looked just as big, but it was pale blue and the cups were just mesh.

On our way back to Sandy's truck, we stopped at the counter and arranged for two showers. I was going to pay for mine, but she stopped me.

"I always fill up at a Love's if there's one around, and every time I do, I get shower credits. I'll never use all mine, so I'll use some to pay for yours too."

We had to wait half an hour before they called our names over the PA and said our showers were ready. It was then I realized I had another problem.

When you live in motels all the time, you never buy washcloths or towels, and I didn't have a single one to my name. I asked Sandy what to do about that. She just grinned.

"They have towels and washcloths but you have to pay to use them. We'll park at a Walmart one of these nights and you can buy some. In the meantime, you can use one of my washcloths and towels. You probably don't have any soap or shampoo either, do you?"

Well, I did have those. I always picked up the little bars of soap and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner they leave in the motel room every day. I had probably fifty of each in my duffel bag.

"I don't need those. I save the ones from the motel."

Sandy handed me a pink towel and a blue washcloth.

"OK then, let's go."

I don't think any shower I ever took was as great as that one. Washing with a baby wipe works, but you don't really have that all-over clean feeling when you get done. The shower time was thirty minutes and I used at least fifteen just letting the water hose me off. When I dried off, I shaved and that felt pretty good too.

Sandy was waiting for me when I came out. Her hair was still wet, but on her, wet looked pretty sexy. I don't know why it struck me that way, but it did. When we took our stuff back to the truck, she got a fresh towel, dried her hair as much as she could and then combed it the way I'd usually seen her wear her hair. It wasn't anything fancy, but I could see why she liked that style. It was simple to do and didn't require a hair dryer or curling iron like my mom used.

The restaurant was more of a fast food chicken place, but after we ordered, the girl at the register handed us two tall plastic glasses for drinks and a little plastic sign with a number on it. She said they'd bring our food as soon as it was ready. We got our drinks and then sat down at a table to wait.

Sandy seemed to be thinking about something because she wasn't talking or smiling. Another girl brought our food to the table before I could ask her if anything was wrong. As soon as she took a bite of her chicken breast, she smiled.

"I guess I should treat myself like this more often. Fried stuff isn't good for you, but it sure tastes a lot better than microwaved meatloaf and spaghetti."

I swallowed my french fry and then smiled.

"I like this too. I've spent the last two years eating in restaurants, so it isn't the food. It's the fact that I'm not sitting here alone like I always am. The chicken is good, but the company is better."

Sandy's face got sober all of a sudden.

"That's what Jerry always used to tell me when he took me out."

Her smile came back then.

"I don't know why that came back to me like that. Let's talk about something else. What do you think so far?"

"Well, a week ago, I'd have been sitting in a restaurant by myself after spending the day explaining to my boss why I couldn't get my building back on schedule without spending more money and then arguing with Nate that he didn't need more people or overtime work.

If I wasn't doing that, I'd have been either sitting in the construction trailer being bored to death or walking around the site checking on things I'd already checked on a hundred times before. I'd go to bed that night knowing the next day was going to go the same way. The high point of any day would have been when a truck made a delivery because that was something different.

"You haven't had to explain to anybody where we are or why we're not where they expected us to be. You haven't had to argue with anybody about anything. Every minute of every day has been something different. Sometimes it was just watching the scenery, sometimes it was watching people do stupid stuff and hoping there wouldn't be a wreck, but it was always different. I like it. I like it a lot."

"You don't mind not having a place of your own to go back to?"

I chuckled.

"Well, the only place I had to go back to was a motel room unless I had a week or two between jobs. I'd go spend some time with Mom and Dad then, so I haven't had a place of my own for almost three years now."

We talked about a few more things while we finished eating, but I noticed that Sandy seemed to be preoccupied by something. She was still that way after we got back to her truck. We watched another movie but every time I looked at her, she had that same look on her face like she was thinking about something.

When the movie ended, Sandy didn't say anything like "That was pretty good, but I've seen better", like she usually did. She just got up off the bed and shut off the DVD player and TV. Always before, we'd gone to sleep right after that. That night though, she didn't do like always and say that. Instead she looked at me for a while, and then smiled.

"This probably isn't something you want to hear, but I'm going to miss you when you stop riding with me. I'd forgotten what it was like to have somebody to talk with."

I asked her why she thought I wouldn't want to hear that."

Sandy looked at the floor.

"Well, I'm a lot older than you are for one thing."

"Sandy, six years isn't a lot older. It would be if you were sixteen and I was ten, but not now."

"I know, but six years is still a lot."

"Why would that make any difference anyway? It's not like we're dating or anything like that. You're just helping me to decide if I'd like to do this for a living."

Sandy looked up at me and I saw tears in her eyes.

"That's what I thought it was going to be, but it's changed, for me at least. When I see you sitting there beside me, I remember how it was when Jerry was alive. When you help me make my walk-around before we start out every day, I remember Jerry doing that. Tonight, when we were eating dinner, I remembered him sitting across from me and telling me he couldn't imagine doing this by himself ever again.

I said it was normal for her to miss her husband, but Sandy just shook her head.

"It's not that. I do miss Jerry, but after all this time it's more like when a friend moves away and you know you won't see them again. It's not that I didn't love Jerry, because I loved him with all my heart and I still think about him sometimes, but it isn't Jerry I miss as much as what he used to do and the fact he was with me.

"That's what changed. I thought I was happy driving by myself, and I was, but the last three days have been the best of my life since Jerry died. It's selfish, I know, but I don't want that to end."

I didn't quite know what to say to that. I mean, I'd changed too over the past three days, so I knew kind of what Sandy was saying. I'd originally thought it would just be a vacation from a job I didn't like. I wasn't really sure anything was going to make me want to drive a truck, but all the things I'd thought would make me decide I didn't want to do that had made me understand how great that would be.

The other thing that had changed was how I looked at Sandy. That first day on the site, I'd figured she wasn't really much of a woman. She just knew how to get a man to do what she wanted. After three days, and especially right then, I saw Sandy for what she really was. Sandy was just as much a woman as any I'd ever met and more woman than many of those. She'd become a friend over those three days, and that friend had become more than just a friend. I just hadn't realized it until then.

"Sandy, what are you telling me?"

Sandy took the two steps that separated us and then put her palms on my chest.

"I'm telling you I don't want you to leave me because I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Sandy, what would you say if I said I feel the same way about you?"

Sandy put her arms around my neck and smiled.

"I'd say you should show me how you feel."

She kissed me then. I kissed her back because I couldn't do anything else. It just felt right, you know, to put my arms around her and hold her close. When she eased back down off her tiptoes, she smiled.

"After that, I don't think we're gonna need the top bunk tonight."

"Sandy, I'm not really...I mean I don't have -- "

"You don't need anything. Just make love to me."

I didn't need any convincing to do that. I didn't need any convincing to pull the T-shirt over her head when she raised up her arms, and I didn't need to think about unhooking her bra and then sliding it off her arms. When her breasts slipped from the cups, I stroked the side of the left one and Sandy shuddered a little and then started unbuttoning my shirt. She didn't wait to get it all the way off. She just put her arms around my neck and pressed her breasts into my bare chest, then murmured, "I'd forgotten what this feels like."

I'd forgotten too. I'd dated a little before getting the job with Schuster, but after that, it was hard to develop any sort of relationship with a woman. There had been a couple who liked sex and I'd been more than willing, but it always ended the same way. I'd be in an area only a few months and then I'd be gone. The girl didn't want to follow me around all over the country, so we'd part as friends. After those two, I stopped trying. It was too painful to say goodbye.

Sandy's nipples pressed into my chest reminded me. So did the feeling of her hips when I cupped them and pulled her a little closer. They weren't the tight hips of a young girl. Sandy's ass was soft, round, and just about the most erotic thing I'd ever felt. When I undid the snap and zipper of her jeans, eased them down to her knees and then cupped her hips again, Sandy sighed and then pushed gently away from me.

"We need to get in bed now before you have to pick me up and put me there."

She rolled the pink boyshorts down her hips and thighs, then spread her legs a little when they caught on her thighs. Sandy then tossed them to the side, laid back on the sleeper bed and held out her arms.

It didn't take me long to get my own clothes off, though it was hard to not just climb up beside Sandy instead. Her breasts sat in two soft mounds on her chest and if she moved even a little, they sort of rolled sensuously. When she opened her thighs, her soft lips peeked out at me from beneath the trimmed brown hair on her mound.

Sandy snuggled up close when I got in beside her and then put her soft, smooth thigh over mine. I kissed her, then nibbled down her chin to her chest and then all around her right nipple. Sandy caught her breath when I closed my lips around that nipple and sucked gently.

"Oh, I'd forgotten that too", she murmured and then slipped her right hand down my side.

She could reach far enough to touch my cock, but she didn't have to. It was already stiff and aching to feel her body close around it. I didn't hurry her though. I'd learned the hard way that was a bad thing to do. Mary had looked up at me when I'd shot my load and said, "Is that it? That had made me feel as weak as my shriveling cock.

I didn't have a clue as to how Sandy liked to be aroused, but she seemed to like everything I did, some things more than others, of course, but she never pushed my hand or mouth away. Her nipples rose swollen taut and covered with little ridges when I touched the tips with my tongue or sucked them gently. She shivered when I cupped her hip and then ran a fingertip down the separation between them.

When I pulled her thigh up a little so I could reach the lips there, she gasped and pushed her body into mine. I felt her tummy roll a little when I stroked those lips, and she caught her breath when my fingertip slipped between them.

I won't bore you with a bunch of words about how much she gasped or tell you she begged me to enter her because Sandy didn't do either. It was a little different, but she let me know how she was feeling by the way she'd press closer when my finger slipped inside her entrance and then pushed back to keep it there when I tried to pull it out.

The way she got slippery inside wasn't different, except it happened before I thought it would. The only thing she really said came after I'd stroked my finger deep inside her and then slowly moved it up to the little swollen button at the top of her lips. Sandy moaned then.

"Oh Rick, I need you."

I started to roll her over on her back, but Sandy held on tight and started trying to move her body to line up with my rigid cock. I'd never done it that way before, but I tried to help. I felt my cock head brush her mound, then slip between her soft lips as I moved down a little. After moving it down a little more, I felt Sandy rock her hips up and then the feeling of my cock head slipping inside her.

Sandy moaned then and rocked her hips again. That was all it took to get things lined up, and I held my breath as my cock slowly slipped inside her snug passage. Sandy raised her thigh a little more, and before I knew it, the base of my cock had flattened her lips against her inner thighs.

I have no doubt Nate would have said he was fucking Sandy, but that wasn't what I was doing. In fact, I wasn't doing anything by myself. We, both Sandy and I, were making love. It wasn't just me stroking my cock in and out of her until I shot my load. It was her meeting every slow stroke and then running her hand down my back to make the sensation that much more intense. It was me bending my head to nuzzle her nipples and then kissing her when she sighed and murmured "yes".

It was her thigh over mine that moved up so my cock would go even deeper, deep enough I felt my cock head slide into a warm and snug spot I'd never felt inside a woman before. It was her starting to dig her nails into my back or as far down my ass as she could reach when she started to rock her hips into each stroke.

The end didn't come quickly at all, but I still wished it had taken longer. Sandy groaned, "Oh Rick" and then arched against me. I felt her muscles contract around my shaft, then release as she started to pant. After two more strokes, she arched into me, cried out softly, and then her hips began to shake.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I pushed my cock deep and then groaned as the spurt raced up my shaft. Sandy stayed arched against me as the second and third splashed inside her, then gasped and eased gently back down. As we lay there, my cock still inside her and Sandy's heart still beating hard against my chest, she stroked my back and covered my face with little kisses.

}{

It's odd how some things can slip up on you before you realize it's happening, and yet, when you look back, it was happening all along. Without realizing it, in three days, I'd gone from just liking Sandy to loving her. I know, you'll just say it was the sex that made me only think I loved her, but you'd be wrong. Making love to Sandy was great, just like it had been for me before, but this went way beyond just feeling my cock inside her and then the breathtaking feeling as I shot my load.

No, it was a feeling of never wanting to be without her again. When I looked back that night as I was trying to fall asleep, I realized it hadn't just happened that night. It had started when I watched her comforting that girl who'd had the wreck. Sandy was acting just like my mother had when the first girl I'd ever dated had dumped me.

That feeling kept worming its way into my mind with about everything she did. I had no doubts that she had loved Jerry with all her heart, just like she'd told me, but Sandy had room in that heart for me as well. Even though she'd told me a lot of truckers would have invited me to ride along, I knew that wasn't really true. She just understood I was feeling down and had tried to pick up my spirits.

When I had asked if I could ride with her for a while, she didn't stop to think. She's just smiled and said yes. I didn't know until that night that the same feelings were taking her to the same place I was. I'm sure she did, but she never said anything until that night.

I did have to leave Sandy for a motel room again, but only for about a month. I spent the first two weeks of that month learning how to drive a semi, and the last two on the road driving under the eye of an instructor. At the end of that month, I had a brand new Class A CDL in my wallet, and I was again sitting in Sandy's truck. She let me drive a lot, but at first took over when we went through the maze of interstate exchanges around big cities.

It's worked out really well. Instead of eleven hours, we can switch off and keep driving until we both hit sixty hours in seven days. One of us stretches out on the sleeper bed while the other keeps rolling the rig along. At the end of those seven days, we'll stop, do our laundry, take a shower, and then find a place to eat. When we get back to the truck, Sandy will put her arms around my neck and whisper, "Remember that first night? I think I forgot, so you'll have to show me again."

I don't need to be convinced to do that, but I suppose you never do when you feel about someone like Sandy and I feel about each other. She's still a little worried about the difference in our ages though. That's why she hasn't yet agreed to marry me. She told me once that she's afraid when she gets older, I'll feel more like she's my mother than my wife. I smiled and stroked the hair from her face.

"I don't think you're gonna have to worry about that. Mom was never as sexy as you are and she'd never drive a truck."

Sandy thought for a second and then giggled.

"So I guess I'll be your 'trucker mother' then."

Well, after that, it's become my pet name for her. I'll pull over to the shoulder when it's time to switch, walk back into the sleeper and wake her up.

"Come on, my little trucker mother. It's time for Mom to get behind the wheel."

Sandy will stretch and I'll think about finding a rest stop instead. She gave up her boxers and sports bra after that first night, so when she stretches and lifts her big breasts up from under the sheet, sleeping while she drives is the furthest thing from my mind. I have to remind myself that in another eight hours we'll have to stop so she can take a half hour break.