Origins: Bumpy Start

My wife and I, who collaborate to write these stories, are not Winn and Will. They are not real people. While real headlines and events may be referenced for setting, our stories depict FICTIONAL events and people, and ALL characters involved in sexual situations are consenting adults.

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BUMPY START

HONNNNNK HONNNNNNNNNNK!

The girl sitting in the back row cracked a huge smile and started talking animatedly to the other occupants of the minivan, her arm still pumping in the window. It was the sign known to big rig drivers all across the United States of America - "Honk the horn!"

Winn grinned at the girl in the neighboring vehicle, amused by the reaction. Her husband, Will, sat next to her, observing. "Look at you, breaking down stereotypes and shit. You're a modern-day Rosie the Riveter."

"No, I'm not. Plenty of women drive big rigs these days. It's not even a stereotype anymore. Wasn't your friend's mom Lari a trucker?"

"The fact that she stands out to you proves my point. Plus, how many other Droppers are women?"

"Droppers" was one of the more work-appropriate nicknames the group gave themselves. These 50 or so Class C licensed drivers paired up and bid on contracts to drive a new Recreational Vehicle (RV) to its destination somewhere in North America. Droppers drove in shifts, from a day to 3 weeks, from the Midwest where these motorhomes were manufactured. After delivering these vehicles to the dealerships or individuals who purchased them, they headed to the airport and hopped the next available flight back home, where they waited at the motor pool for the next round of bids.

Winn and Will were two of the more "traditional" contractors. Meeting after high school and marrying four years later at 22 and 24, respectively, they decided to put off having a family due to the fallout from the Great Recession. Only now, approaching their sixth anniversary, were they finally making enough money to finally feel comfortable.

Droppers were able to pick up contracts from the big manufacturers for about 8 months out of the year, before these opportunities were snapped up by "Corpses." Corpses were salaried employees for the manufacturers that switched from the assembly line to the southern interstates during the winter, delivering 4-season vehicles to sunnier climates than Michigan and Indiana. Will had thought of the nickname himself while stoned one night and was quite proud of it.

"I'm about ready for this Drop to be over. I've got a headache from this fucker. It hums so much, you could tune a damn piano with it. Why don't they ever listen to our feedback? Same problem for the last 15 model years. Resonant frequency, or something. It would take, like, four little wooden ribs to fix it." He stabbed four fingers in the air to accentuate his point.

"Uh-huh." Winn wasn't really listening. Her husband tended to get a bit ranty after eating edibles. They had been driving through Colorado on "Friday" (the last driving day of the trip), and Will wouldn't be needed to drive until more than four days later. Giggling like schoolgirls, they had scurried out of the dispensary with a small roll of gummies. It still felt naughty, years after becoming legal.

"I just don't understand why someone would pay so much for what amounts to essentially window dressing on a semi," he continued, gesticulating wildly as he watched the snowy Rocky Mountain horizon pass by. "I mean, it's got hardly any windows, but fuck if it doesn't have 5 slide-outs." Slide-outs were the boxlike compartments that extended from the "semi," as Will called it. They only slid out when the Class A RV was parked, because the whole vehicle would be over 18 feet wide!

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, a quarter million dollars! What's it, like," he flicked his fingers up and down absent-mindedly with his feet on the dashboard, "a $2700 payment for a decade? Holy shit! What do these people DO?"

"I dunno, honey."

"I mean, it's fun to drive and all, even not being able to use the... luxurious amenities." At this, he dropped his chin and spoke in the baritone voice that Winn loved so much. But she was focused on the road, and he was only rewarded with a light chuckle.

Droppers were only allowed to use the electrical appliances in the vehicles they delivered, since liquids - gasoline, propane (LP), and water - would have to be added to use anything else. It wasn't dangerous to travel with these fluids, but the RV manufacturers weren't about to spend extra money on fuel to carry them across the Western Hemisphere.

Winn turned her head to face Will while keeping her eyes on the road. "Hey, wanna warm me up?" She hoped the brief distraction would slow his roll.

"Sure. R-dubs." Before grabbing her travel mug and swiveling to walk to the back where the microwave was located, Will leaned forward to kiss his wife on the cheek.

"R-dubs," Winn responded.

"R-dubs" was short for Road Warriors, their idea of a nickname for themselves. She had come up with it at the beginning of their first long drop together, to Alaska, where some "numb nuts" had purchased a shiny 35' mistake.

That is, this savvy consumer had opted for the base model, despite living in one of the most brutally cold climates in the country. He, his wife, and their two teenaged children would get to use the pittance they saved to buy LP to battle the cold, or suffer lying shivering in their beautifully-upholstered, expensive-as-fuck beds. Idiot.

At that point, they had only been Droppers for a short period, Will for seven months and Winn for two. Will was technically Winn's mentor driver because of his extra months as a driver, but they had both sorely lacked experience. It had been a tough winter for each, as far as getting work goes. Hurting for money in March, they had teamed up despite their inexperience to grab this contract, which to their surprise had no serious bids--even when it made the "hot sheet," a short list of contracts with a bonus for speedy delivery.

The Corpses had gone back to the assembly line. This normally meant contractors would crowd in to compete for contracts. These two novice drivers were not yet savvy enough to read the hot sheet's complex alphanumeric vehicle code, or they would have realized, like everyone else, that they were bidding to deliver "ice to an Eskimo."

The massive Class A vehicle leaked heat like a sieve. Neither newbie had the foresight to bring heated blankets, hand warmers, or even a small space heater to keep them warm on the 3800-mile journey. It had been a frigid, but surprisingly romantic, maiden voyage.

"More coffee, or just 30 seconds?" Will yelled from the back.

"Thirty, please! We're about an hour out, and add a bit for the drop, but I want to get some sleep." She checked the display on the dashboard and did some mental math: she'd have to look for their exit soon. They were practiced at managing their separate driving schedules by now, but she always tried to stay ahead of any issues that might interrupt their progress. Time is money!

She moved restlessly in her seat, flexing and stretching her stiff, muscular legs and feeling her panties rub slightly against her neatly trimmed pubic hair. She smiled to herself; she hadn't told Will yet. He loved it when she shaved or trimmed her pubic hair, but she normally needed a full day before fooling around again, so she had busted out the clippers after their shower this morning.

She had developed earlier than most of her classmates (much to her excitement as an unpopular girl in elementary school), but her physical growth seemed to peak in 8th grade, stranding her at 5'2", never able to quite fill out anywhere else. She wasn't surprised; none of the women in her family except for an oddball aunt were any taller, but she nourished a hope that her absentee father was a basketball player or something.

She grew into the same breasts all the women in her family seemed to develop: perky, creamy B cups that seemed to defy age. The "Warlow Tits," as the cheeky couple called them when her family wasn't around, featured pale pink, squeezably-soft areolas and slightly darker, firmer nipples. VERY sensitive nipples. Will loved them, but Winn wished she could chop them off some days. Despite this, Winn was very proud of her body. She worked hard to maintain it.

Will knew personally that the breasts bearing her family's name defied age: he had accidentally walked in on Winn's 78-year-old grandmother changing once. For a long time, it had just been the "girls" living together - Winn, her mother, and her grandmother. Grams had not yet changed her habits for Winn's new live-in boyfriend and was putting on a bra in the living room. Luckily, Will's quick reaction time combined with the matriarch's poor hearing had meant that the young man escaped with only a glimpse into Winn's perky future, and not a heart episode for Grams.

He was a dark-featured man of medium height and slightly larger build, now 29. He had been an active youth, the opposite of Winn's upbringing. He and his siblings were often turned out the front door on summer mornings and wouldn't recross the threshold until long after the sun had set. While he wasn't imposing at 5'9", he was solidly built. He weighed between 170 and 200 pounds, depending on work, and he had plenty of muscle for those occasions when Winn wanted to be tossed around a bit. She liked that. He had broad shoulders and a firm butt from working physical jobs, and she had once seen him lift a 200-pound engine block with one hand!

Winn loved being near Will. It was incredible just how SAFE he made her feel, not only against the physical dangers they encountered on the road, but about life. Both of them had grown up in poor homes with combative family. They had their baggage. Despite this, Will never let an opportunity to make Winn feel good pass by. After nine years together, they were way past finishing each other's sentences.

In the comforting and somewhat arousing vibration of the driver's seat, these pleasant thoughts of her husband made Winn's mind drift back in time eleven years to their first season working together.

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It was 2008, and Winn and Will were on their first Alaska drop. Will had been driving along a particularly "hairy" stretch of highway between Seattle and Vancouver on their way to deliver the 35' RV to Numb Nuts. The snow had been coming down for hours, and they were just now slowly approaching the US/Canada border on Day 3. Looking to save some time, Winn had crept carefully into the back of the vehicle for the paperwork they'd left above the door to the "house," that is, the main section of the massive vehicle. She knew that she was unlikely to get them in trouble for walking around in transit so close to the border, but it was difficult to pull over on the crowded highway in this weather.

Will could see her rifling through paperwork in the rearview mirror, which was primarily used to see into the house. There was a tiny window way in the back, through which he could see a semi about 100 feet away. He knew there were others in between him and the other big rig driver, because he could see them in the backup camera. Right now, he was using the mirror to keep an eye on his relatively new traveling companion during the small breaks while traffic stopped. It was only their fourth trip together, first overnight, and she was capital 'G' Green.

The trip had been relatively uneventful so far, with Winn taking what most people would call first shift and Will taking second. Due to their "driving clocks" and the hectic schedule, they saw very little of each other the first three days of the trip. They stayed in separate rooms in hotels and truck stops along the way, choosing the most frugal arrangement they could manage each night to maximize the trip's profit the best they could while maintaining modesty with an almost-complete stranger.

"I'm pretty sure I put everything in there. Make sure you get it all before you come back up, so you can save yourself a trip."

"Okay," Winn responded as she stood on tiptoe to see into the file folder that held their travel documents. Will admired the curves he could see in the tiny rectangle. Winn hadn't been a very active youth, but she had been encouraged by her Grams, who had practically raised her, to practice moderation in everything she did. She had learned from her late grandfather how to cook for herself, and she maintained the same weight within five or ten pounds without really trying. As a young adult, she had just discovered the joy of running, but her devotion had yet to work the beautiful magic that it would by the time present-day Winn took the wheel.

"I think we just need the passport cards. I forget; I did a ride-along with Juan right after I started, but it was nighttime and we went through so fast, I didn't really pay attention." Will's trainee was looking more flushed by the moment- her strawberry blonde hair and fair skin did a poor job of concealing her frustration as the blood rushed to her attractive face. Her hazel eyes always seemed to shine like she was on the verge of tears, and Will always felt bad correcting her because of it.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. I don't see them."

Will had been paying attention to the stop-and-go traffic around him, but at the moment of her question, his brain found something that drew his attention even more than the dangers around him. Some combination of the cold temperature, attractive companionship, and the stress of the unfamiliar situation had caused two bumps to form on the outside of Winn's company-issued fleece zip-up. Will tried to be a respectful guy when he could, but the two had only recently met. This wasn't the first opportunity Will had really had to covertly "sneak a peek," but it was the first he actually took.

The next time traffic halted, Will glanced in the mirror to check if Winn was still occupied with the document hunt. She was. His gaze drifted downward as he sat up straighter in the driver's seat. Winn's novice skill at standing in the moving vehicle meant that she had both arms up at eye level to steady herself against the doorframe on the passenger side of the vehicle. Her pert (32B, he estimated) breasts were pressed outward against the material of her thin, dark gray fleece sweater. The 12V light she had switched on overhead cast two faint shadows down her front, accentuating the tiny twin peaks that seemed to Will to be growing.

"Speaking of growing..." Will thought to himself as he covertly dropped his left hand from the steering wheel to adjust the organ inside his track pants, which had responded strongly to this unexpected pleasure. "Dammit," he thought suddenly as he chastened himself and quickly averted his eyes. It wouldn't do to get an erection in these pants. The thin material was great for comfort while traveling, but they were baggy enough that she would certainly notice if he got hard. Despite his sexual inexperience, he had watched enough porn to know that he had a nice penis. It was a little over six inches long and wide enough to fill his hand respectably. The cab of the motorhome was too intimate for him to subtlely slip his hardening member up against his stomach, so he tried his best to think about traffic.

"Ummm, maybe check the kitchenette. There are a couple drawers on the side of the bench there. You could look in those." Winn turned around and Will noticed with relief that she was now mostly hidden from view, so he could again drive safely and try not to embarrass himself or his new companion.

After a few moments punctuated with the clicks of drawers opening and closing, he heard, "Nope."

He was stumped. He hadn't left the motor pool without their docs, had he? Was he so distracted by the adorably incompetent "girl next door" that he had forgotten them?

It was his turn to freak out: "Shit. Shit. Shit. We'd be able to get into Canada, probably, but there's no way we'd be able to enter Alaska this afternoon. Not to mention the flights..." He didn't really know what he was talking about, but he wanted to look like he had a handle on the situation. He left the sentence hanging.

While he was speaking, Winn had returned to the cab. The traffic was slow enough that they had time to problem-solve before they got to the border crossing. She paused at the entrance to the cab, just over Will's right shoulder. She rested her hand on his headrest while she spoke, and the proximity made his pulse quicken. He knew that her hard nipples were at eye level and willed himself to have self-control. He briefly considered stealing a glance in the mirror, but stopped himself.

Winn spoke. "The last time I did anything with the docs was at the motor pool, when I gave them to you. You said it would be easier to keep them together since we'd need them a couple times." Her voice quavered. She really needed this gig, and any interruption meant that they would almost certainly not earn their bonus.

Will noticed her unease and carefully monitored his tone. "Yeah, that's how we normally do it, and I thought I put them above the door." He scratched his head. "Wait, I know," he nodded. "They're in the bedroom, on the right side in a drawer. I forgot that after Rance got robbed in Florida, I wanted to stow them somewhere safer."

Leaving Will alone in the cab again, Winn walked to the rear of the motorhome. Since they were stopped in traffic, he watched her in the mirror again, wishing he were a little taller to see a bit more. He didn't dare move the mirror; he would die of embarrassment if she noticed. His parents were strict Christians, and he was raised to be the perfect gentleman. Unfortunately, this heavy-handed parenting meant that the rare dates that occurred were marred by their helicopter presence.

Calls, texts, "random" encounters at the movies and mini golf - their efforts quickly paid off. Will didn't really date anymore. While he still lived with them to save money, his primary purpose in becoming a driver was to amass enough coin to escape from under their roof.

He heard a click, then, "Found 'em. Jeez, it's cold back here." They had started moving again. The traffic was progressing more quickly now; they must have opened up more lanes at the border. Glancing in the rearview mirror as they rolled forward, Will saw his companion walking toward the front of the RV, her head down as she examined something in her hands.

Will's heart suddenly surged. She was looking at their passport cards. Oh, shit. "Wait, don't..." he started anxiously.

"Is this a typo?" Winn asked, not hearing his plea. Not able to help herself, she raised her eyes to meet his in the mirror and slowly started to laugh. "Your name is 'Willard?'"

Will's face flushed in embarrassment as he cast his eyes downward. "Yeah, it's this whole thing with..."

His explanation was cut short. While Winn had been walking to the front, discovering his "dirty secret," neither of the two had been watching the surrounding traffic. Suddenly, Will noticed the swirling red - RED!? - snowflakes in front of the RV and realized that his inattention had allowed a big gap to open in front of their rig. But the line of vehicles he was following had stopped without his notice. Even though the rig was rolling slowly, the accumulated snow meant that it was unclear whether they'd be able to stop in time to avoid a collision.

"Fuck!"

Reacting quickly, Will angled the steering wheel barely to the right as he pressed the brake pedal hard enough to activate the ABS. His embarrassment was temporarily forgotten as he attempted to maneuver the large vehicle onto the wide shoulder and avoid the subcompact car that, he realized angrily, had cut him off just a ways back.

The move by the "rookie" was textbook, and beautifully executed. Unfortunately, driving school did not prepare Will for the 110-pound projectile that was Winn headed straight for him. The angled braking maneuver meant that her momentum carried her forward more quickly than she anticipated. Despite her best efforts to stop herself, she tumbled face-first over Will's armrest and onto his lap.