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Introduction:

Whilst I'm away driving my truck for days at a time, my wife and I indulge in a phone-text cuckold-tease game... But is she hiding her real activities in plain sight?
WHILE I’M AWAY DRIVING MY TRUCK, MY WIFE TEXTS TO SAY SHE LOVES SOCIAL DISTANCING ….

NOW THAT IT’S MINUS 8 INCHES.

My Australian interstate truck driver’s life can be pretty mundane with its long, boring freeways and empty out-back highways, so my wife and I engage in a cuckold tease game which is harmless and fun, and to be honest, kind of exciting. But when Covid came along, the rules seemed to change, and our little game whilst I was away driving encountered some unexpected twists and turns. If I were a pilot, I could’ve said it soared to breathtaking heights.

I’ve tried to condense my diary-style story to the titillating and juicy bits, but it only makes sense if the background includes some down-to-earth side-stories and facts.

………..

My name is Dez and my wife is Belinda, both aged 37 and lived all our lives in Melbourne.

We consider ourselves as fit, active and healthy, and whenever we can, take long walks with our two Labradors, who also act as home guards and Belinda’s protectors when I’m away driving.

Belinda has a diploma in assistant nursing (auxo) and disability home care, and I’ve been driving interstate trucks for eight years.

During our ten years of rock solid marriage we’ve discussed our fantasies on many an occasion, and have been open and frank with each other.

Belinda’s fantasies, or at least the one’s she’s revealed, all include just us two, and doing the usual romantics … making love on the beach at sunset, or in a snow covered log cabin in front of a roaring open fire. I think her most risqué scenario is a ‘mile high club’ quickie in an airplane restroom.

Of course, all mine are a bit more …… well, you know what us men are like.

But although Belinda has sat and heard most of mine through, the one which disturbs her most is my desire for another man to take her and roughly and crudely have his way.

“I could never cheat on you, I love you too much,” she’d offer as defense, “It just doesn’t seem right to be untrue. And even if I was somehow forced and given no choice … that wouldn’t seem right either and still feel like cheating.”

“I love you too, and losing you to another would break my heart, but it’s a fantasy that won’t go away.” I truthfully said, “The thought of you being with another makes me hot and would make me want you even more.”

“That seems perverse to me. How would it make you want me more?”

“I know that imagining you being with another should make me angry, but it would remind me how beautiful and sexy you are, and that you could seduce any man you wanted. It would become like a competition where I’d have to try harder to be a better lover. Then if you told me that despite my best efforts he was superior in all kinds of ways and had attributes I couldn’t match and which you preferred, I’d have to do anything you wanted to try and please you so you wouldn’t leave me and hopefully I’d win you back.” I rattled off as a lame explanation.

“Interesting….” My wife had said, almost like she was talking to herself and immersed in deep thought, “I’d never looked at it quite like that.”

The truth was, the simple thought of her becoming haplessly and wantonly aroused by the presence of a powerful alpha male was the turn-on for me. His sheer animal magnetism would cloud her good judgement and undermine her high moral standards and she’d simply allow herself to be taken. Imagining her submitting to a man with a cock much bigger than mine, and with the strength and stamina of a race-horse … and her being on heat, accepting whatever he did, even if he were far more ‘ardent’ than I’d ever be. The very notion was a big turn-on for me.

Hence I’ve nurtured a little cuckold tease game between us to the point where she willing plays along. At first I’m sure she was reluctantly play-acting to indulge me, but lately she’s started fully playing her part, making it ever more authentic and convincing.

…………

I’d departed the Melbourne depot before daybreak and was fast approaching Sydney around early-afternoon when the hands-free on my dash lit up and beeped. Belinda sounded excited.

“The agency just rang and said they want me to do a couple of weeks at the Sampson Hotel. They’ve commandeered it as a quarantine hostel, and need a few auxos like me.”

“Oh, that sounds good, hon. You gonna take it?”

“That’s why I’m calling. It’ll be a live-in. Once I’m in, I won’t be able to leave for a couple of weeks. I haven’t asked Mom yet, but you know she’ll take the dogs. And with you being gone for several days anyway, it all just seemed like good timing. They’ve offered top money and free meals. What do you think?”

“I can’t see a problem. Serge talked about I may have to duck across to Normanton once I’ve dropped off at Cairns, so I’ll be gone for at least a week, easy. Yeah, go for it, hon.”

“Oh, Cindy will be pleased,” was my wife’s delighted response.

“Why, what’s Cindy got to do with it?” I asked, unable to hide the angst in my voice.



Now let me explain a little about Cindy. Although she is one of my wife’s best friends at work, she’s a mid-40s, twice divorced man-eater. She even hit on me once, and although I bet she’s an absolute tiger in the sack and if I were single I’d be straight in, I’d feigned anger and reluctantly but firmly declined. ‘Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again,’ I berated, to which she pouted her bottom lip with a puppy-dog look as her way of saying, ‘what a shame.’



“Cindy will be coming with me. In fact, that was my only concern. If we end up sharing a room, she may end up, you know …” her words trailed off.

“No. What you know?” I asked as my heart skipped a beat. My question required an answer.

“She might bring a man back to our room.”

“Well, you could always share him,” I said in almost a croak.

“And what if I didn’t want to?” asked Belinda in response to my wicked suggestion.

“Ask Cindy to tie you up so you don’t have a choice,” I quipped as I felt a jolt in my loins.

“I might just do that. It could be fun,” she returned, adding fuel to my smoldering burn.

“Dirty girl,” I responded.

“But I bet you’d like it though, wouldn’t you, cucky boy?” she asked, knowing my answer.

“Gotta go. Speak soon,” I blurted, giving a quick blast on my air horn as a parting goodbye before I pressed end call. I was starting to loose concentration.

………….

I pulled into the Sydney depot a little after 3pm to be greeted by my good mate Pete.

“Leave it with us,” said Pete. “We’ll do the swap over and re-fuel. Crib three is free if you wanna grab a couple of hours after you’ve eaten. Cairns ain’t gonna go away.”

“Cheers Pete. Give us a shake about eight thirty, yeah?”

“Need tucking in?” he quipped.

“You wish,” I quipped back.

………..

I drove hard through the night to beat the Brisbane morning rush before pulling up near Noosa for a few hours kip.

I brimmed the truck’s three fuel tanks and set off again at mid-day. I drove straight through and reached Cairns on the smell of an oily rag at seven the next morning… 19 hours straight…. I’d had enough.

3000 kilometres in 51 hours….. if only supermarket shoppers knew the truth.

…………….

“Hi, honey buns,” I said to Belinda when she answered my call. “In Cairns safe and sound. How you’s going?”

“I’ve done my induction, so this afternoon I go in for a three week stint. I hope you don’t mind, but with it only just being set up and the first batch of arrivals still drifting in, that’s how they want to work it. At least I’ll then get a whole week off. They’ve got me on nights seven while seven, but it should be Ok…. You sound tired.”

“A bit, but I’ll be able to sleep all today. They want me to go overnight to Normanton. Goodness knows why the local boys can’t do it. I think they’re short-handed.”

“They’re struggling for staff here too. There’s supposed to be eight security guards for the three hundred rooms. There’s still a lot vacant, but even so they’ve only got two guards at the mo. It just doesn’t seem enough to me. I hope whoever’s in there behaves themselves.”

“You gonna be in a room with Cindy then?” I ask, seriously wanting to know the answer.

“Nah. The rotas were already drawn up to spread the experience around, but I am gonna have to share. I meet my new room-mate later today. They’ve told me she’s a junior auxo and that we’ll be working as a team.”

“I hope she’s not a raving lesbian,” I quipped.

“Oh, I do,” Belinda quipped back.

“Dirty girl,” I said.

“You go get a shower and some sleep. I can smell you from here.”

“Yeah, thanks. Message me when your new lesbian friend turns up. Ni Night, love you.”

“Nighty night, cucky boy. Love you more.”

……………

I slept all day and awoke at 6pm to find a new text message.

“Not a raving lesbian. Has boyfriend, but gorgeous and seems a big flirt. Maybe she brings men back to room.”

“Maybe you both should.” I text back.

“Maybe we will,” her text teased.



My cock stirred as I pondered her words a little later whilst taking a shower.



I saddled up and was just about to pull out of the yard for my ten hour overnight run across to Normanton when my cell pinged ‘new message’. I opened her text and read.

“They recon some bad eggs turned up today. Cops here tonight for extra security though, so feel safe.”

“I just leaving yard. What they done?” my text returned.

“Dunno, but they said don’t be alone with them.”

“Best not then. Stay safe xxx”

“I’ll keep away …. unless they’re all rapists.”

“Dirty girl.” I text back.

“Don’t call me. I may be busy …. cucky boy xxx”

…..

The supposedly ten hour overnight drive out west turned into a twelve hour nightmare. It was lashing rain by the time I arrived.



“Lucky you made it,” the guy at the homestead shouts up at my open cab window from inside his flapping and dripping-wet oil-skin. “A big one coming and it’ll turn our track into a swamp. You may be here for a day or two. Back in under the shed before it dumps, then come in and have a feed while the boys fork you off.”

“Cyclone?” I ask anxiously.

“Not yet, but everyone’s on edge.”

….

Far North Queensland storms can be nasty. I’d heard there may be rain, but with no radio reception on my overnight trip across open country, this ‘big one’ was an unwelcome surprise.

…..

By the time his small crew of four had off-loaded the jigsaw of panels and beams which would become their new machinery store, the raindrops looked like knitting needles flying sideways.

……

“You in a big rush?” asked the homestead guy as we looked forlornly out of the kitchen window, “‘cos even if you make it to the bitumen, that shit-show they class as the road back to Cairns ain’t gonna be worth two bob with this lot.”

“I’ll stay until it’s all cleared away,” I ceded, “if that’s Ok with you guys?”

“No need to ask, old mate,” he replied, slapping me a couple of times on my shoulder, “Just leave a few bob on the fridge for your beers.”

…..

And so it was. A remote bush homestead at the end of a long muddy track and with telephone wires down and no cell reception.

Two nights I was there. I was gonna say stuck there, but that wouldn’t have reflected the true warmth and hospitality these bushies extended. They treated me just like family.

….

On the third day a mud-caked police Hi-lux 4x4 pulled into the homestead forecourt.

“People been looking for you,” the sergeant said as he straightened his cap while walking towards me, then surprisingly extending his hand for a shake.

“Not you guys I hope,” I laughed, partly from relief at knowing the outside world still existed.

“I think …. Belinda, is it? …. may give you a harder time than we ever could when she gets hold of you. Your silence has been driving her crazy. She’d seen on the news that we’d had it bad, and when she couldn’t reach you, she got onto your boss, and your sat-tracker confirmed you were here. So she got onto the Melbourne Met who patched her through to me, and I assured her that if you were here, you couldn’t be in any better hands. She did say that if I found you were Ok and her worries had been unfounded, you were going to pay for it. There isn’t anything I should know about, is there?”

“No sergeant, honest. We’re rock solid,” I said with an ironic chuckle. “She wouldn’t have been serious. Just unduly worried I guess. You know how it is ….. “

……….

So, at dawn the next morning I drove out of the homestead and pussy-footed all the way back to Cairns.

……..

As I got closer to civilization, my cell picked up a signal, so I pulled into a lay-by and made the call.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re Ok. I was worried sick. The news said some of the roads were washed out about the same time you were you there.”

“Well, kind of. The phone lines were down and the track to the homestead was too sloppy to risk, so I decided to stay put for a couple of days. I’m nearly back in Cairns now though. How you’s been?”

“We’re Ok. The new girl I share with is a great laugh, and there’s been no trouble with the residents. Those bad eggs weren’t the rapists I’d hoped”

“Dirty girl. Look, I need to get going before they all leave for the day, but I’ll text you as soon as I know what’s happening and where they intend to send me.”

“Speak soon then. Love you.”

……….

“Moved Normanton, have they?” the sarcastic yard foreman asked when I walked into the Cairns transport office at six o’clock that evening.

My twenty-four hour round trip had taken five days.

…..

I didn’t ring Belinda. I just sent her a text saying I was ok and to wish her good night.

………….

I couldn’t get loaded that night for an early departure, so it was after ten the next morning when I started the twenty hour drive back down to Brisbane. It was only a few bales of compacted recycle cardboard, so I dawdled along, taking my time and stopping for a sleep, arriving at 6.30pm the next day.

During all that time we only sent a couple of exchanges of text to basically tell each other we were well and still alive.

………..

When I’d parked up, I rang her.

“How you’s doing now? I’m in Brizzy for tonight. Parked up outside a recycle yard. It stinks, but I’m good.”

“Ha ha. Told you I could smell you from here. Who’s a dirty girl now?”

“Have you been a dirty girl?”

“Maybe,” she taunted.

‘What you been up to then?”

“We’ve all been tested for Covid every day and no-one’s got it, so we’re allowed to socialize now.”

“Socialize ay? And who you been socializing with?”

“That would mean being with several people, so technically that’s not quite correct.”

“So who then? Just your lesbian friend?”

“Oh, trust me, she’s definitely no lesbo.”

“So who then?”

“Just some immature New Zealand guy. It’s ok. He’s been missing his Mom, so I’m looking out for him. He’s nice and cute.”

“How old is this young New Zealand guy then?”

“Immature I said … I gotta go, my shift’s already started.”

“How old?”

“Look, I’m busy now”

“How old?”

“Twenty four. Gotta go. Love you. Ni-Night.”



She’d ended the call without me even saying goodnight.

Does the phrase ‘Gggrrrrr’ mean anything to anyone here?

……..

I bedded down it my sleeper-cab for the night. At 3 am the ping of a text woke me.

“He really is nice and cute but his tight-fitting boy-shorts make him look immature. When I say he appears immature, I mean it looks like he could be quite thick. When I say it looks like he’s quite thick, I don’t mean thick in the head. Ni Night, cucky boy.”

I fell back to sleep with an erection.

……..

The fork-truck driver whizzed off the cubes of cardboard just after 5 am, and I scooted across to our Brisbane depot just as the traffic got lively.

“You up for another run up to Townsville and Cairns?” asked the dispatcher in the office.

“I do live in Melbourne, you know.” I sarcastically replied.

“We’re short on staff, and Serge said he could spare you for a few days. Wanna go or what?”

………

I texted Belinda.

“Got go back up north. Def away another 5 days min.”

It was half an hour later and I’d already hitched up my trailer when her reply pinged.

“Gonna be stuck in here too. Not boring though, not now I’ve found something interesting. Keep your mind on the road, cucky boy. Now going bed.”

“Dirty girl.” I text back.

“Not yet.” was her sweet, short reply.

………

I had breakfast and a shower and spent another two hours dozing. I set off at just after 2pm and intended to drive straight through. I got a message at 6.45pm as I was approaching a truck-stop where I could brim my tanks with cheap fuel, so I pulled in, had a pee and read her text.

“Night shift was Ok. Had good sleep till after lunch. Been occupied most of afternoon.”

“Occupied?” I texted back.

“Fully occupied, cucky boy.” she returned a few minutes later.

…..

I drove with an erection and my brain on auto-pilot most of the rest of the night. I pulled into the Townsville transfer station at 6 am the next morning.

……

“Townsville safe. Cairns next. You had good shift?” I texted while the boys forked away half of my cargo.

I didn’t get a reply until almost an hour later when I was just about to leave. I was tired and wanted to get the five hour last leg over and done so I could get some well-earned sleep.

“Just fin. Boring night. Now shower, breakfast, bed. Text when u get there. I prob fast asleep.”

“OK xxx.”

……

I’d been driving for most of the last 23 hours and was dog tired when I arrived in Cairns at 1pm and dropped my trailer at the loading dock.

I simply texted “C safe, nite xxx” and clambered into my cab bunk and slept.

…….

It was dark when I awoke. I looked at my phone. Shit, nearly midnight. More than ten hours sleep. I had been tired.

…….

I did a long a pee on my rear tyre, then texted.

“Only jus woke up. You Ok?”

“Fine. Busy.” She almost immediately replied.

…….

I wandered across the yard to where I could see the the night security guy sat in his little illuminated wooden cabin watching what I assumed was porn on his lap-top.

“Sorry to disturb if you’re busy,” I said to his red face after knocking and waiting half a minute for him to unlock and open the door to his little wooden world.

“Sorry,” he gushed, “They told me you were asleep in your cab and I didn’t expect …..” his words trailed away.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” I soothed his embarrassment. “We’ve all been there. Any chance of a coffee?”

……….

We sat and chatted for the best part of an hour, then he suddenly dropped half a bomb-shell.

“You going back to Brizzy tomorrow, yeah?”

“Heading south at least, I guess. Nobody has said, but I wanna start heading back to Vic to see my wife as soon as I can. It’s been a while. Why, what’s up?” I asked, having seen he had some kind of scheme in mind.

“A mate of a mate has got a niece who needs a lift back down there …”

“Oh, I dunno.” I interrupted his flow. Giving lifts was not something I did. Any of us did.

“No, I know, I know, no-one does lifts.” he acknowledged, understanding my reluctance, “It’s just that she came up here on the promise of a job and it fell through, you know, all this Covid shit and stuff. She’s done her doe and needs to get back down home.”

“Oh, now look, I know everyone’s doing it tough, but ….”

“Come on,” he cajoled, “At least think about it. Talk to the girl. She’ll be here in the morning looking for someone to take her. See what you think.”

…..

Now I’m a fair and reasonable guy, it’s just that I don’t do lifts. It even crossed my mind to just put her coach fare on my credit card, but if Belinda checked our statement and saw … ….. and I knew if I looked in the whites of her eyes, whatever she was like, I’d end up with an unwanted passenger, but against my better judgement I said, “OK.”

……

It was just after 6 am when I walked out of the freight office. I was to return to Brisbane, but there was only an empty trailer to take. I wandered across to the security wooden cabin.

“This is Paula,” the security guard introduced. “Paula, this is Dez.”

She was a nubile, petite and pretty young thing aged about twenty two I guessed, wearing a skimpy white top, a denim mini-skirt and sandals. Her nymph size made her seem a bit younger.

I tried to take control. I motioned for Paula to come to outside, and we had a little chat.

“Isn’t there any other way you can get down to Brizzy. I’m really not supposed to give lifts.”

“I’ve got no money left, and Mom stocked up on food and stuff in case of a lockdown, so she won’t have any spare cash to send me until pay-day at the end of next week. We had an argument about me coming up here in the first place, so she’s in no mood to borrow money on my account. I daren’t tell her I’ve got no-where to stay and am likely to starve to death before the end of next week. It’s all bad, I really need to get home, like, now.”

I sighed a heavy sigh down my nose. “I sympathize, I really do, but…..”

She grabbed hold of my shirt sleeve and glanced around at no-body near.

“I’ve got no money, but I’m desperate. I’ll make it worth your while, if you know what I mean?”

I knew exactly what she meant, but even that didn’t wash with me.

“You’ve not met my wife, have you? She’d cut off your tits and then take a knife to my balls, if you know what I mean?” I threw back.

“Ok, ok, but are you gonna help me or what?” she said, becoming snappy at having her obvious charms rejected, and I guess also out of desperation and despair.

“Now listen up,” I said, taking control, as I grabbed her arm and gave her a shake, “look at me.”

“What?” she asked, not understanding my drift.

“Look at me. Look into my eyes.” She did.

“Have you got a boyfriend back home?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she answered.

“And can’t he send you any money?”

“He’s got less that I have.”

“And do you love him, I mean, do you really love him?”

“Of course I do. I miss him.”

“And you were prepared to, you know, do me a favor to get a lift?”

“Look, if you don’t want to take me, I’ll find someone else,” she said, her eyes starting to fill with tears, probably thinking I was giving her a hard time for no reason and being a complete ass-hole.

“I’ll take you.” I said, breaking the tension, “but no hanky-panky, Ok?”

She virtually leapt up into my arms like I was her best friend who she hadn’t seen for weeks.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she blubbered, as tears streamed down her cute little face. I must admit, I welled up a little too.

……………..

It was five hours later as I was beetling along on the twenty hour trip and making good time, my only freight being an empty trailer and Paula and her little suitcase, when my hands-free beeped an incoming unknown number call. I looked across at Paula and put a finger to my lips, and she made a zip motion across the full width of hers.

“Yes? To whom do I speak?” I asked.

“Is that Mister Dez?” the hesitant but unmistakably Kiwi accent asked from my dash speaker.

“Sure is. What’s up?” I returned, still none the wiser as to who was calling.

“You don’t know me, but my name is Nikau, and I’m kind of a friend of your wife.”

“Yes, go on,” I said, my heart having seemingly leapt into my throat.

“Well, I’m just ringing to ask if you’re cool with it?”

“Cool with what, exactly?” The heart in my throat suddenly racing.

“Us being friends.”

“And just exactly how friendly are you two being friends?”

At this point I glanced across at Paula who flared her eyes wide open like saucers.

“Well, just friends, so far, but …”

“So far?” I repeated back, interrupting his flow.

“Well, sir, she is being quite flirty but I know she is married and I just….”

“Let me ask you something,” I again jumped in, surprised he had called me ‘sir’. “How did you get this number?”

“I know it was wrong, but we were in the canteen sitting together when she went to the restroom and left her mobile on the table, and I took a picture of her contact list.”

“That’s very honest of you to tell me, Nikau. Are you always this honest?”

“My Pop told me to always be on my guard sir, yes.”

“Be on your guard? How so, Nikau?” I asked, repeating his name. I must admit, it had a nice ring.

“Well my uncle is quite famous and I’ve always been taught to avoid bringing any scandal to the family.”

“And who is this famous uncle of yours?”

“I can’t say his name, because I don’t want it attached to any trouble I may accidentlly cause, but he plays for the New Zealand All Blacks.”

“You’re not in any trouble, Nikau. Not yet, anyway. So, he’s in the All Blacks, eh?”

“Yeah. He got me a trial there once, but I wasn’t quite fast enough.”

“So you play rugby?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s why I’m in Melbourne. I’ve got a trial with one of the local A grade teams.”

“What position you play, Nikau?” I asked with genuine interest. I’m a bit of a rugby fan myself.

“Usually front row prop, sir.” Nikau stated.

Now, for those who aren’t familiar with the game, a typical front row prop is built like the proverbial brick shit-house, and who could probably also carry one under each arm.

“And the Blacks knocked you back ‘cos you weren’t fast enough?”

“Well, they are all pretty good at everything, sir.”

“Hey, Nikau, do me a favour and stop calling me sir. My name is Dez, Ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Dez sir …. “ he struggled with the habit of a lifetime.

“Now let’s go back to the beginning. You took a risk to get my number, which is fine, I’m not angry, so why exactly are you calling?”

“Well, Belin…. I mean your wife … and I seem to have become great friends and she’s invited me back to her room this afternoon. If she didn’t tell you and you found out from somewhere else and thought there was something going on, you might …… well, I am in quarantine in here and if the media get, well, I don’t know how to explain. Like I said, my family can’t be seen to be involved in any scandal.”

“That was all a bit of a jumble, Nikau, but I know what you’re trying to say. Look, I’ll tell you what. Do not, I repeat, do not tell my wife you rang me, but you may go to her room this afternoon and have a coffee and talk or watch a movie or whatever else she had planned. But if things get a bit flirty I want you to say something to surprise her….. have you got a pen? …… good, now write this down.” ……..

……………..

With Paula being my totally skint co-pilot, I generously made two hamburger-joint pit stops and a pee stop I wouldn’t usually make, which added extra time to the journey. She also caused me to slow down for a short while when she announced the vibrations of the truck were making her horny. She then proceeded to place her feet wide apart on the dashboard and finger herself to an overtly lewd and very vocal orgasm right there on my passenger seat as we were driving along. I reminded her the deal was no hanky-panky, but she’d responded, “try and stop me if you dare.”

I read Belinda’s text at the second pit stop at 8pm.

“We need to talk.”

I needed to talk too, but not now. To be honest, having Paula riding shot-gun was unnerving, so I couldn’t face it right there and right then. I got behind the wheel and drove.

…………..

I pulled into the yard at 1am in excellent time, despite the innocent but interesting distractions, having been hauling an empty trailer.

“You sleep in here,” I told Paula, “and I’ll go get myself a crib, and don’t speak to anyone until I get back in the morning.”

“Can’t you stay here with me, or can’t I come in there with you? It would be nice.” she pouted with a puppy-dog plea and a twinkle in her eye, to which I simple responded,

“Which do you think she’ll cut off first? Your tits, or my balls?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Paula simply responded back.

Once I’d thrown my backpack on the bed in the crib, I sent a text, knowing it would tell her the time sent.

“In Brizzy safe. Tired, going sleep. Text me in morning.”

…………..

I awoke at 8.30am and read Belinda’s text.

“Had tiring shift. Going bed. Text me when you wake and know what you’re doing. Need to speak please.”

I quickly made my way across to my truck. Paula and her little suitcase were gone, but a pair of used panties were on my seat. I walked over to the yard-man’s hut and asked if he’d seen her.

“Remember Hogan’s Heroes?” he answered without diverting his attention from the daunting jumble of paperwork strewn across his desk. Or course he’d meant Schultz’s, ‘I see nothing’.

………..

The main freight office gave me a bundle of papers for the container and trailer I was to take to the Sydney depot.

“If you can get there by lunchtime it would be good,” they’d joked, knowing my truck won’t do 200 miles an hour. I told them to expect me about 9pm.

“Now off to Syd. Be driving till 9. You awake?” I texted, still conscious we hadn’t resolved her ‘need to talk’.

I didn’t get a reply until 2.30pm.

“Awake now, cucky boy. Can we talk?”

Knowing the possibility of an awkward conversation, I pulled into the next truck lay-by and rang her.

….

“Hi, honeybuns. I’m just taking a ten minute breather. How’s things?”

“I’m good. Why didn’t you call yesterday like I asked? I needed to speak to you then.”

“I was occupied all day,” I echoed her wording from the previous day, “and I thought that you may have been the same. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Well I wanted to let you know they definitely want me to stay an extra week. They said it suits them for us to have three weeks on and one week off. Is that Ok?”

“I know Serge has tons of work on, and I’ve been running two log-books anyway, so if that’s the case I’ll just keep going for a few days longer. It’s a bit gruelling and I miss you, but the work is certainly there…… The hardest part is being on my own. It gets kinda lonely in this cab all by myself. At least you shouldn’t be lonely.”

“Well, I did have a visitor. That’s another reason why I wanted to talk.”

“I’m listening,” I said as my heart skipped a beat, knowing what I’d told Nikau to do and say.

“I needed to talk to you after my New Zealand friend had left and gone back to his room. He’d said the oddest thing, almost like, I don’t know, like he knew you or something.”

“Perhaps he does. What’s his name?”

“He’s called Nikau, and his room-mates are called Ari and Benny.”

“So you’ve made three new friends?” I asked, my throat suddenly becoming dry.

“Oh, they’re Ok. They’re cute and pretty much behave themselves and stay in their room. But when Nikau was here it was odd that he said what he said.”

“They pretty much behave themselves?” I queried.

“Oh, you know what youngsters are like. A bit boisterous, but mostly they are Ok.”

“Now it’s ‘mostly Ok’. Have they upset you?”

“No, its …. never mind, it was probably nothing.”

“Come on then, spit it out. What did they say?”

“No, it was just Nikau when he was here. When I went to the fridge, he kinda followed me and, well, I was a bit frightened because he kinda cornered me for a minute and studied me, like, scrutinizing, and said he wished you were a cucky boy.”

“Oh,” I exclaimed, feigning surprise. “That sounds like he had something on his mind. And what, pray tell, did you say to that?”

“Well, I didn’t. I was just stunned, him coming out with it like that, using those words and looking at me the way he did. But he backed off when I kinda shooed him away and asked him if he wanted something to drink.”

“Backed off?”

“Well he’s quite a bit bigger than me and like I said, he kinda had me cornered. It was a bit scary for a second. I’ve never said anything to them about calling you cucky boy, ‘cos they may take it the wrong way. But like I said, he used the phrase himself. It seemed spooky like, Oh, I dunno ….”

“Like if he knew that’s what you sometimes called me, he may have attacked you or something?”

“I wouldn’t say attack, no, he’s not that kind of person. But if he knew I called you cucky-boy he might have tried to ……. I don’t know what he might have done. He is a bit bigger than me.”

“How big is he then? You joked before you thought he was, how did you say,,, ‘thick’?”

“Oh, he’s thick alright. Thick everywhere.”

“A big guy, huh?”

“All three of them are. They’re Mauri rugby players. They’ve got forearms the size of my thighs.”

“They’ve been measuring your thighs, have they?”

“No, you ass.”

“But they must be a bit intimidating though?” I asked, my heart continuing racing.

“Well, they all seem nice and friendly, and so far they’ve all been polite, but when they’re all together at the same time, they are a bit overwhelming ….. they are three really big guys, you know.”

“And what does your lesbian room-mate have to say about your new friends?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. She moved out. She’s bunking in with another guy. One of the quarantiners. Has been for a couple of days now.”

“Is that allowed?” I asked, genuinely concerned, knowing this Covid shit can be nasty.

“We’re still getting tested every second day, and thankfully no-one has it. That’s why they’re getting a bit lax here now, with people moving about and mingling like everything is normal. No-one is allowed in or out for a few more days yet, though. With working nights I’ve kinda lost track.”

“And you’re on your own in the room during the day now, though?”

“Except for Nikau this last couple of days. We have lunch together, then he walks me back to my room and usually comes in and chats for a little while. I think he’s missing his Mom.”

“Sounds like you’re having fun.”

“The work is easy, with just helping a few seniors at bed time and mornings and being on call overnight. It’s lunchtimes which usually get me.”

“What happens then?”

“Well, I have to go down to the canteen to eat, and that’s why I’ve started sitting with Nikau and his friends. There seems to be more and more people hanging around down there in the afternoons just lately, and they are getting more rowdy and restless every day. Maybe because there’s no alcohol allowed, plus the frustration of being locked in for so long I guess.”

“Maybe frustration in other ways too, huh?”

“Oh, don’t talk about that. I’m at the point where I’m really looking forward to, you know…”

“Me too. But at least I have to wait. Seems to me you don’t have to wait if you don’t want to.”

“Well, I do want to wait.”

“Yeah … ‘want’ to, but don’t have to.”

“You really are a cucky boy, aren’t you?”

“And if you let that slip to Nikau, you could be a really dirty girl.”

“Stop it. You get going before you get me all worked up. Nikau will be here soon to walk me down to the canteen. Text me when you get to Sydney.”

“And you text me if you let anything slip out … or maybe slip in. Text me later anyway, Ok?.”

“Go on, get going to Sydney, cucky boy, and make sure you drive that truck safely.”

…………

I was slightly surprised I hadn’t received a text when I arrived at the yard at 9.15pm.

I texted her, “in Syd safe. xx.”

………..

I peed on my back tyre and walked across to the security cabin where the guard was sat all on his lonesome. He greeted me with a ‘hi’ and told me there was water in the kettle and milk in the fridge. The news channel on his little TV in the corner was on mute, and I was blankly staring at its scrolling up-dates whilst waiting for the kettle to boil when I saw the words Sampson Hotel scroll across the bottom of the screen.

“Turn it up, turn it up,” I agitated at the guard, franticly flapping my arm towards the TV.

…..

“And we now cross live to our correspondent outside the Sampson Hotel in Melbourne. What can you tell us about the situation there now, Michael?”

“Well it all seems to be calm here now David, after the police had locked down the area here outside the Sampson Hotel earlier today. We haven’t had a formal statement from the police as yet, but eye-witnesses have confirmed to us here at MBM news that several of the residents who were confined to the hotel under Victoria’s strict Covid quarantine regulations were taken away in some of the fleet of police vehicles and one of the ambulances which attended the scene.”

“And what do we know about why those people were removed by the police earlier today?”

“Until we have an official statement from the police, we can only go on what eye-witnesses have told us, David. Most of those detained appeared to have various minor injuries consistent with the rumors of a mass brawl which is alleged to have erupting inside the hotel at some point in the early to mid-afternoon. One person was taken to Caufledge Hospital, and our source there reports that individual, believed to be a man in his fifties, is in a stable condition with non-life-threatening injuries.”

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll leave it there and bring you more updates as they come to hand. We turn to sport now and the West Coast Sea Eagles ……….”

I waved my hand, and the guard turned down the sound.

“You OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he asked with concern.

“My wife works there,” I stated blankly as I slumped down onto one of the wooden chairs.

“Oh my God! Have you spoken to her since, you know, today?”

“No. She usually texts me around seven, but I’ve had nothing.”

“Do you want to use the phone? Call her? Call the cops?”

“No, it’s Ok. Give me a moment.”

I took a moment. Then spoke …

“A couple of people I know there have my number, so I’m sure I would’ve heard if she was involved in anything. She knows I don’t usually listen to the news, so she probably assumes I don’t know and won’t be worried. And no news is good news, right?”

“Yeah, Ok, if you’re sure. If there’s anything ……..?”

“No, its Ok, thanks.”

………..

I made myself a coffee and watched the screen on the silent TV in silence. No other up-dates about the incident were scrolled amongst the other news-worthy events of the day, so after half an hour I told the guard I was heading back to my cab for some sleep.

…………

At five thirty the next morning I strolled across to the little guard hut and the guard had something to show me.

“Come in, look at this, I recorded it not long ago. I’ve been watching the news and I knew you’d be interested. Overnight they must’ve interviewed some people from that hotel thing in Melbourne.

And sure enough, without the guard realizing it was my wife, he’d recorded her and her interview. A guy in a full haz-mat suit is at the main entrance, holding a microphone on the end of a long pole under my wife’s nose.

..

“In your own words, can you describe what happened here yesterday, Belinda?”

“Well, the residents seem to have been getting more and more restless in the last few days. I came down to have a late lunch, and when I was sat at my table checking my mobile for messages from my husband, someone suddenly grabbed it out of my hand, asking why I should have a phone and he didn’t. I was trying to grab it back when someone else pushed me and I fell down, then someone hit him, and next thing I know it seems everyone is fighting all around me while I was laying flat out on the floor. We’ve never had enough security guards here from day one, so lucky for me it was my friend here who scooped me up and saved me. He’s my hero. I don’t know how I’m going to repay him.”

All the time Belinda was speaking, she’s leaning into the side of a huge and tall, young Mauri guy who has his muscled, dark skinned, ham-shank of a tattooed fore-arm draped around her shoulders. The flat palm of one of her hands was rubbing small circles around the centre of his broad chest and she occasionally tilted her head to glance up into his eyes as she spoke, as all the while he smiled fondly down at her.

“My only regret is my phone is now broken,” she continued, “so I couldn’t inform my husband. But he’s away driving his truck for several days, so it’s not unusual we don’t get to speak for a day or two. I doubt he’ll have heard about this as yet, so he won’t be worried.”

“And you, young man, what is your name?” asked the presenter, swinging the microphone pole his way.

“Nikau, sir, from New Zealand.”

“We thought you might be,” beamed the presenter, glancing back at the camera with a wry smile inside his full- face, clear plastic visor. “Were you hurt at all in the incident?”

“No sir, I just scooped Belinda up in my arms and carried her out of harms way.” He looked down at Belinda and spoke compassionately and directly to her. “I didn’t realize your phone got broken though, Bee,” then turned to talk at the presenter like he was giving an explanation. “I share a room with two other friends from New Zealand. I’m sure they’ve got a spare mobile,” then looking down and again addressing Belinda, “if you want, we can give you one until we all get out of quarantine. It should only be another couple of days.”

“Well I’ve got some news for you, Nikau,” the presenter jumped in, “we’ve been told that because of the breach of the strict quarantine regulations, the isolation clock is going to be reset to zero, so you may be giving her one for another 14 days. What do you think about that, Belinda?” poses the presenter, again flashing a grin back at the camera.

Although Belinda didn’t smile, her eyes appeared to flare with a sparkle, and her answer to his question seemed relaxed,

“I suppose I’ll have to put up with it, although isolation from family is really frustrating,” as her circling flat palm gave the chest of her hero a few firm pats. “I think it should be Ok with my husband. He’s an interstate truck driver, so he’s used to taking care of himself when he goes away for a few days, and he’s one real tough cookie. Won’t he be surprised when he finds out it’s me who’s going to be out of reach for a couple of weeks? At least he’ll know I have my hero and his friends looking after me while I’m stuck in here,” she stated, smiling straight up at Nikau, as he returned a lingering, affectionate gaze.

“Well, that seems to be all from here at the Sampson Hotel for the moment. It’s back to you at the studio, David.”

…………

I mulled over the whole situation.

At least I know she’s safe and why she hasn’t called or texted. If she got her hands on another phone, I’m not even sure whether she knows my number. There’d been no need to memorize it if it had been stored on hers. Of course, I know Nikau has my number, but obviously he can’t tell Belinda. And with my record of incoming calls, I now have Nikau’s number. But by the same reasoning, how could it be explained how I acquired that? And if I looked up the number for the hotel, the lines would be manic and probably jammed. And if they’ve reset the quarantine rules inside the hotel, she may not even be able to access their phone anyway. Of course, my boss at headquarters has my number on file if she looked up the company number. It all seems a bit tangled at the moment. I decided to stop over-thinking.

I went to the freight office for my next assignment.

………..

“You Ok for Brisbane again?” asked the dispatcher. “The City Hospital up there seems anxious to re-stock their supplies. It’s mainly masks and PPE and stuff, so I suppose it’s fairly important.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” I moaned, “am I the only driver in this company who knows the way up there?”

“It’s all we’ve got until tomorrow,” he bats back, “and that’s across to Adelaide.”

“At least that’s heading in the right direction for me to get home for a couple of days. It’s been a while.” I pointed out.

“I know, but this Brisbane Hospital job is fairly urgent,” he cajoled with hope in his eyes.

“Ok,” I sighed, “give me Brizzy.

………..

I collected the paperwork. I hooked up my trailer. I climbed into my cab ….. and I drove.

10 hours of non-stop hard driving later I’m pulling into the huge delivery bay behind Brisbane Hospital, with the last hour adding to the late afternoon traffic nightmare.

I look at my phone. Still no messages. Damn.

At 8.30pm as I’m pulling into our Brisbane depot to park up for the night I get a beep of a text.

It’s from Nikau.

“Dunno if you heard. Was some trouble here. Your wife not involved but her phone got broken in the fuss. She is fine.”

“Thank you. Keep in touch.”

………

Next morning I’m asked to take a load back to Sydney. I saddle up and at 7am I’m on my way.

I was making good time, so when my phone beeped a message at 12.30 lunch-time, I pull up for a breather, a pee and a read. It’s from Nikau.

“Belinda and Ari were sharing banter in canteen when she jokingly called you cucky boy. He been teasing her about it. Just letting you know.”

I tried ringing his number, but it just went to call-answering. He texted again.

“Not allowed talk on phone in canteen no more. They think I playing a game.”

“You with them?”

“We all in canteen, yes. B stopped work for lunch break.”

“Stopped work?”

“After the trouble, she asked for day shifts and got it.”

“Ok, thanks. Keep in touch.”

………..

I resumed my journey, mulling over the implications and timing of her dayshifts.

………..

Fighting my way through the rush-hour buzz, I pulled into the Sydney yard at 6.30 pm.

At least here, I can get a canteen meal, a shower and a crib for the night. It’s all good.

………..

At 8 pm I send a text to Nikau’s number from my little oblong bedroom.

…………

“How’s things there now?”

“All good.”

“Is B worried about me?”

“Not at all. Why would she be?”

“I not spoken to her for like 3 days.”

“I’ve spoken to her.”

“What u mean?”

“Told her u must be safe cos been texting me.”

“U told her?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“U told her u looked at her phone?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“What you mean?”

“No secrets between B and I no more.”

“No secrets? U been talking about me?”

“My dirty girl been talking about her cucky boy, yes.”

“You call her dirty girl?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“What you mean?”

“She my dirty girl now, cucky boy.”

“You call her dirty girl to her face?”

“She calls herself dirty girl to all our faces.”

“All faces?”

“Ari, Benny and me.”

“How long she been doing that?”

“Ever since became certified dirty.”

“Certified dirty?”

“Ever since got herself blacked.”

“How long this been going on?”

“About 24 inches?”

“24 inches?”

“Do the math ….. eight inches times three.”

“Was it just a one off?”

“We all got off.”

“Was just one off though?”

“B just told me to say it’ll end up being 336 inches”

“336 inches?”

“8 x 3 x 14 days”

“She there with you now?”

“We all are.”

“Can I speak to her?”

“Not really. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Does she mind?”

“Had no complains.”

“So can I speak to her?”

“She said to say no ‘cos about to be fully occupied again. Just said to say ‘good night, cucky boy’.”

…………

At 1.30 am I’m awakened by a ping. I open and read the text.

“Our dirty girl said to say you don’t have to worry, she’s being looked after by her new friends. And if tonight anything go by, for next couple week she gonna get well and truly taken care of… … nighty night cucky boy”

I fall asleep with my hand slowly stroking my erection.

……..

Next morning I send a text to Nikau telling of my next destination. I get an almost instant reply, and I doesn’t come as a complete surprise.

“Our dirty girl don’t care where you are, cos she in seventh heaven right here.”

“Can I speak to her?”

“My talk time credit reserved for my Mom. I can unlimited text for free.”

“Tell her I love her.”

“She loves you too, but we found other things she loves.”

“Is she getting her own phone?”

“Dirty girl is mine, cucky boy. From now on, you go through me.”

“Tell her I’m safe and well.”

“I pass it on 5 times a day if you want. I’ll text u whenever I feel like it.”

“Ok.”

“Damn right Ok cucky boy. Dirty girl is ours, so go pull your own little trailer. Ha ha ha.”

……………..

And so it was. Over the next few days I tramped up and down the East Coast corridor, working all hours God sent, regularly reporting I was safe and well. All I received in return were a series of unwholesome and unnerving texts.

“Our dirty girl getting dirtier every day.”

“She upset Ari last night. She know not do that again.”

“B got breakfast in bed this morning. Had to open her mouth wide.”

“She’s not wearing her wedding band no more. What you think to that, cucky boy?”

“B has no complains, but was moaning late into the night.”

“You been pulling your trailer, cucky boy? Every night we been pulling a train.”

“B begged Benny to stop. He laughed and kept on going .....and going…… and going.”

“Shop ran out of extra large condoms. Me and Ari not been using them anyway.”

“Wow. Should’ve seen B last night. You really should’ve ... Sorry, forgot, you can’t.”

“B been treated well. Every night she been well and truly taken care of.”

“You been delivering your load? Us three studs been delivering ours.”

“Did I tell you she getting dirtier every night? I can’t remember.”

“B ran out of the pill. Said she don’t care, said ‘just do me.’”

“Neighbour complained of noise, asked could we ‘hold it down’. Benny misunderstood.”

“She never had 3 at once. Tonight that changes…... we decided.”

“Said being dirty is nice. Said getting blacked way much better.”

“Screams and wriggles a lot, don’t she? Still had no complains though.”

“You been pulling your trailer, cucky boy? We been pulling a train every night.”

………………….

After eight days of this texting tease torture, I finally end up back in Melbourne.

………………..

“I need a couple of days off, Serge. I’ve not seen my wife for nearly a month.” I say to my boss back at home base.

“You done good, son, made us both some decent coin. Take a couple of days while I get your truck serviced. I’ll tell ‘em not to rush and I’ll give you a call when it’s ready. But our books are chock-a-block full, mind, so I’ll need you to start straight back then, Ok?”

“Cheers boss, no worries.”

…………

I jumped into my car and burn straight over to Belinda’s Mom’s house.

The dogs jumped all over me like a rash before they dashed off back outside. Belinda’s Mom gave me a long, big squeezing hug.

………….

“Suppose you heard about the Sampson Hotel fiasco?” Mom asked.

“Shame they reset the quarantine clock and she had to stay in there another three weeks.” I moan.

“What are you on about? Belinda’s been at home in self-isolation for ages. I thought you would’ve known.”

“What are you talking about?” it was my turn to ask a dumbfounded dumb question. I hung on every word of Mom’s unnerving answer.

“She’s been at home. Not long after the ruckus she came down with a cold, but even though she tested negative, they sent her home anyway and told her to stay there for 14 days just in case. If she stays in strict isolation and then tests negative, she can start back at the hotel. The agency have tons of work on their books, so In about four days’ time at the end of isolation, assuming she tests negative, she’ll be going in for another three week stint. Haven’t you guys been talking to each other or what?”

“Not really. It’s a long story. So she’s been at home on her own, then?”

“Of course she has. Who else would she be with, you great lummox? I’ve been dropping food and supplies on her veranda and talking to her through the glass in the front window. Didn’t you hear me? She’s been in what’s known as isolation, dopey. The clue is in the name.”

“Oh, yeah, right…. It’s just that …. Oh, never mind. So did you get her a new mobile phone?”

“What do you mean? She’d already got one. Don’t you know anything?” she continued at my intently quizzical gaze. “When hers’ got broken, that Mauri boy, what’s his name, Nikau, gave her his own phone as a gift. Said he’d use Harry’s or Ari’s or whatever his name is to call his Mom. They had a brand new one in a box, but no sim. They said they’d sort it all out when they got out of quarantine. Heart of gold, that boy. You ought to be grateful.”

“Oh, I am Mom. I’m sure he’s a wonderful guy.”

“At least him and his friends have landed on their feet coming to Melbourne.”

“How so, Mom?” It was now apparent there was a great deal I didn’t know.

“When they got tested negative and were let out of quarantine they all went for trials at some rugby place. Belinda knows all about it, but when she explained it to me I didn’t really understand. Anyway, they’ve all got placements for the start of next season if they can hang around ‘till then. In the mean-time Nikau and his two friends have scored jobs with the security firm that supplies guards to that there Sampson Hotel. They’d always been short on security. It’s criminal how they’ve got away with not having enough guards. Anyway, now they will have. And it’ll be good for Belinda too, having her friends there to talk to when she’s allowed out of isolation in a few days’ time and can get back to work. It’s all good, hey?”

“So those Mauri guys are working at the hotel now?”

“I don’t think so. Not yet. I’m sure Belinda said the rugby place had found them all billets through the rugby academy while they’d been doing their trials, and as far as I understand, they’ve been allowed to bunk down there while they did their security guard courses and wait for their diplomas. Hopefully they can start work at the beginning of next week. But I thought you guys would’ve been talking and you’d know all this stuff.”

“No Mom, we kinda been talking about other things.”

As my mindless left hand starts to pinch at my temples and massage on my forehead while I grapple with this new information and blank stare at the floor and emit a deep sigh, Mom asks,

“You Ok, son? You look stressed.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, Mom, it’s all good ……… everything’s just bloody marvellous.”

“So by the sound of it you’ve not been home yet then?” asked Mom after the dogs had come rushing back, interrupting our conversation by jumping all over me, and then dashing off again.

“No, not yet. I thought she was still at the hotel.”

“You guys really haven’t been talking have you? Is everything Ok? You’s not been arguing or anything?”

“No, Mom,” I reassured her with a chuckle of ironic laugher. “We’ve only been able to text, so we’ve been keeping everything brief. It’s Ok, it’s all good.”

“Well best you get over home and see her. It’s a shame you can’t hug or do anything else,” Mom said with a knowing twinkle in her eyes, “but at least you can talk through the glass and straighten a few things out. I’m assuming you’ll be staying here tonight. The spare room is free. How long have you got off work?”

“Yeah, of course, Mom, thanks, staying here would be great. I’ve only got two nights off, unfortunately. Work is short staffed with some of the guys self-isolating and we’ve got tons of work on.”

“So you’ll have to head off before Belinda is out of home isolation and back at the hotel for another three weeks?”

“It looks that way, don’t it? Oh well, I’ll go see her and see how she’s doing, and I’ll be back in an hour or so I guess ……….

………

I could see the next three weeks our cuckold tease game would be yet more bitter-sweet agony, knowing she’ll be returning to the hotel with unsated frustration….... and with her three new rugby playing friends to keep her company.

Oh boy …... with a now perfect mix of unnerving ingredients, her texting tease torture could get a whole lot lot worse.
1 comments

Helen_LReport 

2021-10-04 10:36:43
Love this story and so well written - I do hope there will be a part 2

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