The Cookie Chronicles Ch. 01

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Young wife turns her first trick.
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4.19
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/01/2011
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Chapter 01: Cookie's First Trick

Fort Meade, MD

Thursday, July 19, 1979

Background: My 18-year old Filipino wife Cookie possessed a dangerous combination of exotic beauty and an insatiable appetite for sex. She had creamy brown skin and silky, long black hair, and she loved wearing sexy, revealing outfits. I was the envy of the guys in my unit at Fort Meade, but they had no idea what a high maintenance lady she really was. She had a fiery temper and she could blow up at the least little thing. Sometimes, she'd simply turn into the ice princess and other times she'd go into a rage and start throwing things or storm out of our apartment. So while having a beautiful, oversexed wife was great most of the time, it also presented significant challenges for me since she was like a magnet for attracting guys and constantly getting hit on where ever we went. Of course, she craved the attention and loved to flirt and tease guys, which caused me great worry every time she was out of my sight. She even joked that she was a nymphomaniac, and to be honest, I was pretty sure it was true because she certainly never seemed to get enough.

On this particular night in July, Cookie and I had a huge fight over money, which we had very little of. She had spent our last few dollars for the month on this sexy new dress and spiked heels. She had gotten them for nearly half the normal price, and while I thought it was a great outfit, we didn't even have enough groceries to make it to pay day at the end of the month. Plus, I had run out of gas coming home from work and had no money to even go get the car.

When I chastised her for her untimely splurging on the outfit, she blew up at me and told me not to worry because she was going out and get some money by selling her ass. She had made threats like this before, so I didn't think she was serious until she slipped on a pair of her shortest and tightest cutoff jeans and a low-cut halter and then headed out of our apartment. I still didn't think she would really do it, but I decided to follow her at a distance anyway. She noticed right away that I was following her, which seemed to incite her all the more, and she hurried ahead with her heels clicking until she reached the main highway. Then, she quickly hiked her cut-off shorts up in back to show more of her buttocks, before she proceeded out to the local strip strutting her stuff like a hooker.

I followed at a distance as she walked for nearly a block down the seedy strip past several bars that were frequented by mostly black clientele. She even paused outside of one of the bars, and I think she was about to go inside when this big Lincoln pulled up next to her and stopped. The driver was a heavy-set, middle-aged, black man, and she waved and smiled at him as she moved over to the lowered passenger side window. Then, to my horror, after a brief exchange with the black man, she climbed inside his car and closed the door.

I stood there in stunned disbelief as the Lincoln sped past me. I just couldn't believe she had actually done it.

With little else I could do at this point, I headed back to our apartment to wait for her return. I was hurt and worried, but strangely aroused by the prospect of what she was doing.

I must have dosed off and the rattle of the key in the door awakened me. I sat up with a rush just as Cookie opened the door. My body tensed, ready for another confrontation, but as our eyes met for just a brief instant, I saw that her anger appeared to be gone. She looked sad and maybe a little tired.

As she pushed the door closed, she abruptly turned away from me as if trying to avoid my eyes and said nothing as she slowly slipped her heels off.

I sighed as I watched her every move. I had a hundred questions, but the important thing was she was home. The fight was over and now it was time to make up.

I wanted to say something...anything, but I decided to see if she would make the first move. I glanced at my watch. It was just after midnight. She had been gone for just over two hours.

"Here," she said suddenly as she stepped up and tossed some money on the coffee table. She looked as if she were about to burst into tears.

I swallowed hard as I stared at the scattered bills as if they were something evil. Then, I looked up into glistening eyes. "Cookie, you...you didn't do this..." I said, but I knew she had.

She glared at me, anger seeping back into her eyes. "I told you I was going to do it, and I did!"

We stared into each other's eyes for a long time. I sensed that this was a telling moment. There was still at least some hostility left in her, yet I also sensed her sadness, and perhaps regret. "Cookie, we could have found another way to get some money."

She shook her head. "I did what I had to do," she said glaring at me. "Now at least we should be able to fill the car up with gas and buy enough groceries to get us to pay day."

I was stunned. "But Cookie...," I started but realized from the look on her face that it was futile to argue with her skewed logic. In her mind, she was convinced that she had done what she had to do to get some money and perhaps teach me a lesson, and to argue with her at this point would only lead to another fight.

There was a long silence as I looked over at the money on the table. Finally, I picked up the crisp bills. There were two twenties and a ten. "That guy....he...he gave you this money to...to have sex with him?"

She glared at me for a long moment. Gradually the gleam of anger in her eyes softened. "How else do you think I could have gotten it?" she said shaking her head as if remembering. "You saw me get into the car with him. You don't think he would give me money just to look at me, do you?"

I stared at her in amazement, hoping I'd see some sort of sign that would convince me that she was making all this up just to get back at me, but from the look in her eyes, I knew she had done it.

"I really did it Pete," she said lowering her eyes as if she were reading my thoughts. "I'm not proud of myself, but I did what I had to do...what I had to do for us." She looked back at me as a tear rolled down her cheek.

I sat the money on the table as I stood up. I knew I should be furious, but my heart was suddenly aching. I immediately went to her and pulled her into my arms. "Cookie, it's my fault. I...I know I pushed you too far, and I...I never would have let you go if I would have thought you were really going to...going to..."

She ground her face into my shoulder as she began to sob.

I let her cry for a long time before I guided her over to the bed and lay her down. We held each other for a long time.

As we lay there holding on to each other, I kept retracing the night's events in my head, wondering if there was something I could have done different. I had been so upset about running out of gas on my way home from work, and then to find out she had spent the last of our cash, and it was still a week and a half until payday. Our situation had seemed so hopeless. Now, as I looked at the money lying on the coffee table, I knew that we would be able to make it to the end of the month.

I swallowed hard. The money was dirty, but it was still money. What she did to earn it was undeniably wrong, yet I had to believe she truly thought she had done it for us...so we could survive.

I looked down at her. She was still my beautiful, young wife and not the kind of woman who would sell her body for cash. Yet that's exactly what she had done.

I sighed as I remembered watching her climb into the car with the black guy. I'll never forget the big grin on his face as he drove past where I had been standing.

The fifty dollars sitting on the table almost had come from that black stranger, who paid my wife to have sex with him. I shook my head. He was just some random guy, who happened to be passing by at just the right moment. It could have been anyone, but he was the lucky guy and her paying customer.

I swallowed hard, realizing that I now had more to deal with than just her getting paid to have sex with some guy. The guy she had done it with was black, and the very thought of her doing it with a black guy should have revolted me and caused me to demand a divorce. Yet, that wasn't what I was thinking.

I stared at her lips, wondering if he had kissed her. Suddenly, I realized she was staring up at me.

"You want to know if I kissed him, don't you?" she asked with a half smile on her face.

I shrugged. "I was just curious." It was uncanny how she seemed to be able to read my thoughts.

She sighed. "You sure you want to know? It might be better if we're just happy we have the money and forget all about how I got it."

"I don't want there to be any secrets between us," I said looking into her eyes. "So I...I want you to tell me what happen...what you did with him."

She reached up and kissed me lightly on the lips. "Okay, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but you've got to promise you won't get angry. This is over and done with, and I can't change what happened."

"I won't get angry. I...I promise," I assured her.

"But I had sex with a black guy, Pete," she said looking into my eyes. "And maybe it will hurt you too much to hear the details."

I shrugged. "We're in this together. Like you said, you did this for us, so I should know everything you did."

"Okay," she said as she sat up.

It was then that I noticed the crotch of her shorts was soaked.

She looked down. "Oh," she said giving me an apologetic nod. "I guess I'm kind of a mess."

"That's...that's from him? His...his cum?"

She nodded sadly.

I sighed. "He...he didn't use a rubber?"

She shook her head.

We looked into each other's eyes for a long moment.

"You promised not to get mad," she reminded me.

"I know honey, but dammit, you had sex with some black guy you've never even seen before, and he didn't use a rubber!"

She glared at me. "He didn't have one with him. What was I suppose to do? I don't carry rubbers around in my pocket," she said with a spark of anger in her eyes.

"You could have insisted he get one," I said realizing I was very close to igniting her again.

She glared at me for a long second. "I already told you I did what I had to do. Besides, I tried to convince him to stop by the 7-11 and buy a pack of rubbers, but he wouldn't. He said he didn't like using them," she said and then paused. "Don't worry. I won't get pregnant."

"How can you be sure?" I said unconvinced.

"I just know it's not that time," she said with confidence.

I sighed as I stared at the front her shorts for a long moment. That was a black man's sperm dripping from my wife's pussy, soaking the entire crotch of her shorts, almost as if she had peed herself. If there had ever been a doubt in my mind if she really had sex with someone for money, now there was no denying it was true. She had been fucked by other guys before but this was different. She had done it with a black guy...a black dick had been inside my wife's pussy. How could things ever be the same between us?

"Why don't I go take a quick shower and get these messy shorts off," she said giving my hand a squeeze as if she sensed my thoughts.

"No. That's okay," I said shaking my head.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Let's just relax and you tell me about what happened."

She sighed, and her eyes dropped again. After a long moment she continued. "Well, when he picked me up, I was straight with him and told him I wasn't really a hooker, but I needed some cash real bad."

I nodded.

"He said he could probably help me out, and asked me what I had in mind, and I...I told him I would give him a blow job for twenty dollars," she said and then paused. "I figured a blow job wasn't as bad as doing it with him, and at least I'd get enough money to fill the car up."

I nodded, realizing she had at least been thinking straight, but I still wondered about her willingness to go down on some black stranger.

"Anyway, we drove around a while talking. I told him I was married and about how we just got married and are in a really bad situation and just needed a little cash to get us to pay day," she said solemnly.

I nodded.

"He said he was retired from the Army and understood what we were going through, and he said he was willing to help out, but he wanted more than just a blow job," she said and paused as she shifted on the bed. "He said he really wanted to...wanted to fuck me," she continued as she glanced at me to gauge my reaction.

I sighed. "I guess I'm not surprised at that, especially with the shorts you're wearing."

She smiled. "He said he'd give me fifty dollars to spend the night with him in a motel or thirty for a quickie in his back seat." She shrugged. "I just couldn't see myself spending the whole night with him, so I decided to take the quickie in the back seat."

"But you have fifty dollars," I said confused.

Her face flushed. "Well, we did it in his back seat, but I guess it turned into more than just a quickie. He...he fucked me for more than an hour and...well...he came two times, and he....he said I was so good that he went ahead and gave me fifty dollars."

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of jealousy at the thought of this guy fucking her for over an hour. "Where did you go to park? No one saw you, did they?"

She shook her head. "No one saw us. He parked down a side alley behind the Burger King, and we got in the back seat of his car and he fucked me. Then he dropped me back here. That's it."

I looked at her. She had to know I wanted more than the abbreviated version of what happened. "Did you kiss him?" I said wondering why I was so obsessed with knowing if she had kissed him.

She sighed and nodded. "I didn't really want to kiss an old guy like him, but he just started kissing me so I really didn't have a choice."

It was hard for me to even imagine her kissing a black guy, but that was the least of what she had done. I paused as I carefully considered my next question. "How...how was it...having sex with him?"

She looked into my eyes for a long moment, and then a smile came on to her face. "You mean did I enjoy it?"

I nodded.

She chuckled and her face seemed to flush. "You want the truth?"

Again I nodded.

She sighed. "I guess it was kind of fun."

"Kind of fun? What does that mean?"

She shrugged. "What am I suppose to say? Did he make me cum? Is that what you want to hear?"

I slowly nodded knowing I was treading on very sensitive territory.

She looked at me sternly for a long moment, and then a smile slowly returned to her face. "Okay, he made me cum. I know it makes me seem like even a worse slut, but to be perfectly honest, I really got off on it. Okay?" She paused letting her words sink in, testing my reaction.

I shrugged. "Was he...was he that good?"

She smiled and slowly nodded. "Maybe part of it was because he was paying me to have sex with him or because...because he was the first black guy I did it with, but I swear I was so damned turned on when he was fucking me."

I nodded. The excitement in her eyes as she recalled having sex with this guy both terrified and aroused me.

She shrugged. "And for an old guy, gosh...he stayed hard so long and he had incredible stamina. He just never seemed to get tired!" Her grin widened. "Plus...u...uh."

"What?" I asked.

"Well, he had this really, really big dick," she said with a gleam in her eyes as if she were recalling the sordid details. "It must have been like ten inches long and really thick!" She wrapped her fingers around her wrist to demonstrate the size.

My eyes widened and I felt an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. "I thought you told me big dicks didn't do anything for you?"

She shrugged with a slight grin on her lips and a gleam in her eyes. "I guess I was wrong."

I felt even more uneasy. "And you were able to take all of it...inside you?"

She nodded. "I didn't think I would be able to, but I did, and gosh, it felt like it was all the way up to here," she said putting her hand midway up her stomach. "It was so deep! I swear I...I've never felt anything like it!"

I swallowed hard and my cheeks were suddenly burning. The excitement in her eyes was obvious. "I just hope that old saying about 'once a girl goes black, she'll never go back,' isn't true," I said half joking.

She smiled and gave me a look I couldn't quite read. "I don't know...it might be true. I...I sure always thought it was bullshit about black guys having big dicks, but I guess maybe that really is true too, huh?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "I don't know about all black guys but most of the ones I've seen naked had big dicks," I admitted with my cheeks getting warmer. This was certainly a strange subject for a husband and wife to be discussing.

She smiled giving me a suspicious look. "Oh yeah? I didn't know you had seen black guys naked before."

I smiled feeling a bit embarrassed. "Remember I played football in high school? We had a lot of black guys on the team, and plus I think half my platoon in basic training were black guys. So yes, I spent quite a bit of time around naked black guys in the showers."

She chuckled and gave me questioning look. "You ever...you know, do it with a black guy?"

I stared at her for a long moment considering my answer. A few weeks earlier, we had both gotten pretty drunk and she somehow tricked me into confessing that I had sex with a few guys before we got married. Thankfully, she had never really pressed me for the details, and part of me wanted to lie to her now, but with what she had done and her confession, I guess I felt an obligation to tell her the truth. "Yes," I said slowly nodding.

She smiled. "When was this...when you were in high school?"

I hesitated.

"Tell me, Pete. It's no big deal. You said we shouldn't have any secrets between us, and I just want to know the truth," she said with a stern look on her face.

"It was actually back in May, before you moved up here. I went out one night and had a few beers out on the strip, and...and I got picked up in one of the little bars by this black guy," I said feeling strangely aroused by my confession.

She gave me an inquisitive look. "So tell me about it. What do you mean by picked up? I want the details."

I sighed. This was not something I was real comfortable discussing, but I felt like I had to be honest with her. "His...his name was Marvin, and he was probably around 40 or so. I was just kind of sitting at the bar, and he came over and started talking to me. He seemed like a nice guy...very friendly, and ummmm...for some reason he...he invited me to go for a ride and smoke a joint with him. So we left the bar together and went out to his car. He was driving this really nice white Corvette. We parked behind the clubs in the back of the parking lot, and after we smoked a joint, he...he just all of a sudden pulled his dick out and asked me to give him a...you know...a blow job."

A slight smile came on her face. "And you did, huh?"

I nodded and was hardly able to even look at her.

"Did he give you a blow job too?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No. All he wanted was to get his dick sucked," I admitted.

She gave me a suspicious look. "But he must have thought you were gay, right? That's why he asked you to go for a ride with him?"

I shrugged. I had never really considered why this guy had singled me out and that he had probably approached me because he thought I was gay. "I suppose," I said and then looked into her eyes. "But I swear all I was doing was sitting at the bar drinking a beer. He just came over and started talking to me. It wasn't like I was coming on to him or anything. I was just drunk and being friendly."

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