tagLoving WivesThe Hitch Hiker: Cookie

The Hitch Hiker: Cookie

byJust Plain Bob©

We stopped for dinner and gas at a truck stop just outside of Wichita. We had been visiting Cookie's folks in Mulvane and we were headed back home to Denver. I was looking forward to getting home to my own bed and not just because I wanted to sleep. Cookie's parents live in a house with paper-thin walls and Cookie wouldn't let me make love to her there. I had slept next to her, but had gone without sex for the whole nine days we were there and I was hurting. I had pulled into a rest stop and had tried to get Cookie into the back seat, but she told me no, "I want it as bad as you do baby, but let's wait until we get home."

I had gotten up to use the bathroom and when I came back to the table Cookie wasn't there. I guessed that she had also gone to the bathroom, but when she hadn't come back after five minutes I began to wonder just where in the hell she had gotten to. I was just getting ready to get up and stick my head in the ladies room when the waitress came up to me and handed me a piece of paper.

"The lady you were with asked me to wait ten minutes and give this to you." I took it from her and saw that it was a note from Cookie to me.

"I've decided to give you the fantasy that you have always wanted. See you at home."

Give me my fantasy? I didn't have any fantasies. Why in the hell hadn't I been able to make her understand that? I sat in the booth another hour waiting for her to come back and then I went out to the car and waited another forty-five minutes before I accepted the fact that she wasn't coming back.


As I drove home to Denver alone I thought back to how it all had started. It had been my birthday and my younger brother Ron had given me a subscription to Penthouse Letters. I really had no interest in the magazine or it's content, but when the issues began to arrive I read them. I didn't believe for one minute that the letters in the magazine were real or if they were they were written by idiots. Real people didn't say things like "magnificent fuck stick" or "marvelous meat pole." And none of the people were ugly or ordinary looking; everyone had larger than average cocks and the women were all drop dead gorgeous. They were good for a laugh and so I generally read most of the issue before tossing it out.

After about the fifth issue Cookie started asking me why I wasted my time reading such filth, "Honestly Dave, I don't understand why you just don't toss that in the trash when it comes in."

Another month passed by and when the next issue arrived and Cookie saw me reading it she said, "Is that garbage reaching you on some level? Is that why you read it? Do you find things in there that excite you? You are changing Dave, you aren't the man I married anymore."

I thought she was over-reacting. She came from a fairly straight-laced background and for the first two years of our marriage wouldn't even make love with the lights on. Things came to a head with the ninth issue. I was sitting on the living room couch reading it when Cookie came in and said, "What is it Dave? Do you see me doing those things? Do you have some sick fantasy about seeing me or having me do the things described in that magazine? Is that it Dave? You want to watch me with another man? What is it Dave, you want to see me with a black man, maybe do a gangbang? Or is it another woman you want to see me with? You are one sick puppy Dave" and she stormed out of the room leaving me sitting there wondering just what the hell happened. But her tirade told me something - she was reading the magazines, how else would she know the content?

I finally got tired of the bitching and when the next issue arrived I threw it in the trash unopened and I saw Cookie see me do it. The expression on her face was curious - it almost looked like she was upset. I had two issues left on the subscription and I told Cookie to throw them out when they came and I never saw them so I thought that she had. One day I was cleaning out the bedroom closet looking for some stuff to give to Goodwill and I moved a box on the top shelf. The box had some weight to it and I couldn't remember seeing it before so I opened it and looked inside. I found all twelve issues of Penthouse Letters - she had not thrown them away - she had even gone into the trash and retrieved the issue I had thrown away. At the time I didn't know what to make of it, but now on the drive home it dawned on me that it was Cookie who had the fantasies. She had finally decided to act on them and she was setting me up to take the blame if everything turned to shit.

I arrived home at seven o'clock on Friday night and I didn't hear from Cookie until five on Sunday afternoon. She asked me to come and pick her up and I almost hung up on her, but curiosity being what it is I had had to know what she had done. I pulled into the Denny's where she had asked me to pick her up and she came out of the restaurant before I even got the car parked. She slid onto the front seat, looked me right in the eye and said, "Well, I hope you are happy now that I've debased myself for you and your perverted fantasies."

I ignored her, pulled out of the lot and headed for the house.

"I hope your warped little mind is ready for this. Since you would never tell me what your sick little fantasy was I ended up doing them all. Well, all except the one where you watch, but Phil says he will come over and do me while you watch if that's what you want."


"The truck driver who picked me up while you were in the bathroom. He walked up to the table and told me he was headed for Denver and would sure like to have some pretty company along for the ride. I decided that if I was going to give you your fantasy then was as good a time as any. I'll say one thing for him, he sure didn't believe in wasting time. He had his cock out and in my mouth before you even got back to the table. He fucked me right there in his truck while I watched you sit at the table and wait to see if I'd come back. He fucked me three times before we even left the parking lot. I was sucking his cock when you started the car and left. We stopped five times on the way to Denver. I didn't think I'd ever be able to satisfy him. Just outside of Limon there was a black guy hitching a ride and I talked Phil into stopping and giving him a ride. He didn't want to, but I told him I would spend the weekend with him if he would. I got in the sleeper and when the black got climbed up in the cab I got him to get in the sleeper with me. It's true what they say about black men Dave. He was huge! He fucked me three times before we let him out at Colfax and I-70. I never even knew his name."

I sat there behind the wheel and watched the road in front of me and tried not to scream at her to shut up, but I held my temper because I wanted to hear all of it.

"When we got to the terminal and dropped of his truck we got in his car and he took me home with him. I was surprised when we walked into his apartment and I found out that he was married. I was even more surprised when his wife smiled at me and said, "I hope he told you that we share everything."

It was my first time with a woman and I liked it. The three of us spent the night in the same bed, but none of us got much sleep. Saturday night Phil and Ava took me with them to a bar they go to and I had a little too much to drink. I don't remember much of it, but Ava told me that I got gangbanged on the back seat of her car by at least twelve guys, maybe more. All I remember is waking up between two guys in Ava's spare bedroom. They took turns fucking me most of the day and then Phil did me one last time before dropping me off at the Denny's. You must be pretty horny by now so let's hurry home so I can fuck your brains out."

I just shook my head and said, "It won't wash Cookie, it just won't wash. I never had any fantasies and you know it. The fantasies were all yours, not mine. I found the books in the closet - all twelve of them - and I know you read them all. Trying to pretend that you did it for me isn't going to work."

I pulled over and parked. Then I got out of the car and went around to her side, opened the door and pulled her out of the car.

"What are you doing Dave? What is this?"

"It's called a bus station" and I handed her a five twenties. "Catch a bus back to your parents or a cab to take you to Phil and Ava's, I don't much care which as long as I never have to look at your sorry ass again" and I drove off and left her standing there.

The phone is ringing again. It hasn't stopped for a week now. She calls four and five times a day, every day, begging me to take her back. I've gotten to where I don't answer it anymore. Tomorrow I think I'll have the number changed.

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