Couple’s Marriage Improves As Husband Lets Wife Play Around
An affair that began for my wife in infidelity, as a statement of dissatisfaction and resentment, has evolved into a living fantasy of open sexuality for both of us. The first night that Leslie came home late from work, she confessed that she had been with another man. Leslie is a beautiful, seductive woman with an inner mystique that leaves even the casual male acquaintance yearning to touch her body.
Though I felt anger and rejection, I could not help getting a tremendous hard-on as she related the events of the evening. They drove to a bar for cocktails and then to a disco. As they enjoyed the sensual beat of the music, the liquor, the touching and kissing, their juices began to flow. At his apartment afterwards, they shed their clothes and ended up in bed.
I felt I was to blame for having ignored her needs, but I also wanted madly to fuck her. I wanted to rape her then and there, to eat her pussy and taste her and her lover’s mingled juices, and then to fill her with my own. Unfortunately, I had to wait.
We solved our differences the next day when I agreed that we would spend more time together. I know Leslie expected me to reproach her for sleeping with another man. Instead, I shocked her by telling her that what she had done excited me. I told her that she could go on seeing her friend and even fuck him whenever she wished. That floored her, because Leslie expects total fidelity from me and she could not understand why I would allow her such freedom. Still, that inner fire burned from the touch of another man and she seriously considered my proposition. The only stipulation I made was that she would have to tell me every detail of her affair when she arrived home.
Several weeks passed and Leslie still had not returned to her lover. One morning, as we were dressing for work, she aroused me by mincing around the room in nothing more than panty hose. Her coy smile betrayed any hint of innocence. Grabbing her by the waist, I wrestled her to the bed and began kissing and fondling her. As I touched her mound and my fingers slid between her legs, she resisted me, objecting that there just was not enough time.
“How about a threesome tonight?” I cajoled as she finished dressing before the mirror. “Why not ask your friend over? You know you’d enjoy being ravaged by two men.”
“Yes, I would,” she agreed. “But I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I think I’m becoming a nympho as it is. If you keep enticing me, I may go too far.”
Somehow, I just could not imagine her going too far. I am as much a voyeur as she could hope to become a nympho.
At nine that night, Leslie called to tell me that she and some colleagues had gone out for drinks after work. I asked her teasingly, male or female? When she answered “both,” I wished her luck in a sly, wistful way.
At two-thirty in the morning, she called again from a friend’s house to tell me that she was stoned and still enjoying herself. I asked her if she was alone with her friend and she replied, “Not yet.” Needless to say, my cock stiffened and my pulse quickened. I complimented her for following my instructions so well.
The night passed restlessly. I awoke every hour, fighting the urge to masturbate. At seven o’clock Leslie arrived, weary but with a very satisfied expression on her face. Her eyes were slits and, by the way she doffed her clothes, I could tell the night’s excitements had exhausted her. The long, black, curly hairs of her pussy glistened.
“Sore?” I asked.
Leslie rolled her eyes and smiled. The details of her previous encounter had included a mention of just how well endowed her friend was. She estimated that his cock was at least eight inches long and so large around that even inserting it slowly had caused some initial pain.
As she slipped into my bed, I rolled up against her, my leg separating her thighs. I guided my cock into her and began massaging the walls of her cunt with it. As tired as she was, she related all the details of the evening. Her description rekindled the fire in her hole and soon she was coming explosively. Holding myself back, I withdrew my cock and plunged my tongue into her gaping hole, licking and swallowing the flow of come, hers and his. Her fingers plied at my arms and face as she came again. She was still pleading for more, and my balls were churning with the need for relief, so I remounted her and gave her my entire cock. It took only about a half-dozen in-and-out strokes to bring us both off simultaneously. Since then, Leslie has engaged in sex with several other men and women. Perhaps if other married couples allowed each other greater freedom to explore outside relationships, marriage would never seem like a dull, worn, lifeless arrangement.—Name and address withheld
GIRLS MANHANDLED WITH JUMP-ROPE GRIPS
My roommate, Steve, and I each have girlfriends who share a common interest with us—sex. We usually have mini-orgies for fun and exercise. The other night, however, we had a mini-orgy that was worth recounting in Penthouse Letters.
It all began when Steve and I took our girlfriends, Julie and Fran, to a bar and proceeded to get drunk together. I must add that Julie and Fran are both gorgeous, and each has an outstanding feature worth mentioning. We call Julie A. for short, because her ass is so nice and firm. It’s so firm, you could crack an egg on it and it would probably fry on those hot buns of hers. We call Fran T. for short, because her tits are so big that if they had presidents’ faces on them, they would be mistaken for Mount Rush-more.
Well, getting back to the story, we all got drunk and went home at about one o’clock. We were all horny and anxious to get started; so we bolted the doors, shut the drapes, and practically tore our clothes off. We began our usual fingerin’, lickin’, suckin’, and fuckin’. I just got done fucking Fran, but Julie was still barking as Steve was giving it to her doggy style. Then I saw a jump rope lying nearby, and I got a great idea. I grabbed it and shoved one handle into Fran’s erotic tunnel of love. I stood up with the other end and started swinging it around. Fran went into a sudden frenzy, and she screamed in ecstasy. I started getting a hard-on just from watching her get off. I kept twirling while Fran squirmed like a fish on the floor.
Julie decided that she’d like to have some part of the fun when she saw Fran’s pussy dripping with pleasure, and so she grabbed my end of the rope and shoved it into her sweet, muscular pussy. She began moving her lovely, smooth hips in every direction imaginable. Fran also got up; so they were both standing up, swinging the rope around as if they were possessed by the love demon himself. Steve and I were so turned on that we started whacking off on our Johnny Wadd juniors, turning the girls on even more. I noticed joy juice flowing rapidly down their long thighs. Then Steve stuck his jackhammer into Julie’s ass, and she went mad with pleasure. So I went over to Fran and rammed her ass with my torpedo, causing her to explode with ecstasy. Now all four of us were going crazy all over the floor, with the rope swinging wildly, breaking a lamp that we ignored as we reached climax. It was the best orgy we ever had, and needless to say, we have been “jumping for joy” ever since.—Name and address withheld
PROUD HUSBAND SHARES WIFE’S CHARMS
My wife and I are not swingers, but we recently found a harmless way to involve another person in our love games.
Sharon and I are in our late twenties. We have been married for five years and live in California. We have a wonderful sex life and really get off on each other and enjoy every imaginable way of getting mutual satisfaction.
Sharon is four-foot-eleven and weighs a hundred pounds; her measurements are 33-26-34. She has thick blond hair, perfectly shaped, full, firm tits (which spurt milk by the way), a broad firm ass, and her pride and joy—her cunt.
I have never seen even a Penthouse centerfold with a pussy as nice as Sharon’s. She has handfuls of bushy blond pubic hair from her tummy to her pubic area. She wears a swimsuit or shorts most of the time. When she does, she gets lots of looks at her bulging crotch and stray fur hanging out. She enjoys going nude and letting the sun bleach her big pussy and tan her nice little titties and big ass. Sharon’s outer cunt lips are huge and puffy. When she wears tight clothes, it looks like a pair of bananas are stuck side by side in her crotch. The inner lips are bright pink and get plump and red when she is turned on. She has great muscle control with her cunt and can wink and twitch at you at will. When she comes, her cunt milks you better than any hand or head job (which she is great at also). Her clit grows to about two inches when excited and gets so hard it shines like a little cock head.
We like turning other people on and vice versa, but we’ve been monogamous for the most part.
A situation presented itself this summer that we couldn’t pass up, though. Sharon wears cutoffs when she isn’t wearing a bathing suit, and she has a favorite pair. However, I didn’t think they showed off her perky buns enough; so I cut the legs shorter. I overdid it and they turned out with just a strap of cloth up the crack of her ass and fluffs of pussy hair on either side when she sat down, stretching the shorts over her ample cunt. She wouldn’t wear the shorts if she were going in public, but didn’t hesitate to wear them around the house or with friends around.
This last Fourth of July we were sitting at home when Sharon’s boss, Stan, dropped in. He is in his thirties and is very square and immature—no threat to either of us sexually. He never goes out with women. And he drinks a lot and was quite inebriated when he came over. I was in the mood for a smoke and lit up a bong. I asked Stan if he had ever tried one. He hadn’t. I coaxed him, and soon he was stoned out of his mind. I get hornier than hell when I smoke, and Sharon turns into a real bitch in heat. After a few tokes her cunt is creaming.
Stan hates rock, but I figured he was too messed up to care. So I put on my best tape. Before I sat down, I went over to Sharon and suggested she put on her revealing cutoffs and a sexy top. I sat in a chair a few feet from Stan and watched anxiously. I about lost it when Sharon came out in her cutoffs, hiked up on her hips so her cunt bulged against the seams. She had on a flimsy, loose blouse with no bra. I could see her tan little nipples poking out excitedly from her bulging boobs, I didn’t know what to expect, because she turns into a nympho when she’s high. I was a little apprehensive at first, but I was excited and didn’t care. She sat on the carpet with her knees together and her legs drawn up near her well-exposed ass cheeks. She had a few more tokes and soon had that buzzed, seductive look in her eyes. She stretched her shapely long tan legs out on the floor and leaned back on her hands and stared deeply into my eyes. I nodded my approval.
She bent her right leg up and placed her foot flat on the floor, revealing a big patch of pussy fluff on the inside of her thigh. Then, keeping her eyes glued to mine, she began to rock her leg back and forth in time to the music, exposing the hair outline of her engorged cunt. With each beat she showed more pussy hair.
Then both knees were drawn up and were spreading apart and back together again in time to the music. Now billows of shiny, fluffy pussy hair were hanging out for all to see. The hair disguised the meaty cunt lips bulging out on either side of the crotch of her shorts.
We glanced at Stan and saw him drilling a hole between my wife’s bare cunt lips with dazed eyes. Although it doesn’t sound like it, Sharon was being very nonchalant about the whole thing, and that, plus Stan’s stupor, assured me he wasn’t onto us.
I excused myself to take a piss, which I did loud enough to let Stan know I was out of the room. Then I came back into the living room and stood well behind his chair to get a ringside seat for the show.
She began to rock her legs back and forth to the beat again, and this time her cunt was well exposed. I was on the edge and wanted more. With my hands I signaled Sharon to really spread them, and as she did, her fuzzy outer lips blossomed like a pink rose. She shot a beaver that would make any man like to blow his wad.
She was really into it now, and I couldn’t believe it when she reached down and pulled up her shorts so that the inch-wide crotch of the cutoffs was clear over on the inside of her thigh.
My beautiful little bride’s pussy was spread completely open to the summer breeze drifting through the windows and her plump ass was swaying back and forth with the tune. I was really digging it and massaged my stiff prick through my bulging pants. Just then Stan started to stand up, and I dodged back into a bedroom. He took a piss, and when he came out, he said he wanted to run back to his apartment for more booze. I told Sharon to drive him because he was too stoned. As he followed her bouncing buns out to the car, I saw him reach in his pants and resituate his stiff little bulge.
When they came back, Sharon suggested we go to Stan’s apartment to watch the fireworks being put on by the local community.
It was quite a show, especially inside the screened porch. This time my wife decided to show off her firm little tits. As she propped herself up on her elbow while stretched out beside Stan, her loose gauzelike blouse fell aside, revealing her beautiful right breast and swollen nipple.
As the fireworks exploded, she said, “Did you see it!”
She rolled over on the back and put her head on my knees so she was partially sitting up. Her bulging left tit stuck out like a spotlight in the semidarkness of the balcony. She turned to Stan and said, “Do you see that one?”
By now the poor bastard was letting out little groans as if he were coming. Sharon climbed up on my lap, and we melted in each other’s arms and kissed deep and wet. My hand pushed aside the little strip of cloth covering her cunt, and my fingers were buried in steaming hot pussy. Her pubic hair was dripping with her juices.
Stan excused himself and headed for the bathroom. Sharon and I decided he was coming down from his high, and we agreed to split. We rushed home, and as she threw her clothes off, I dived into her pussy, eating and fucking all night.—Name and address withheld
LOVING WIFE LAYS OTHERS AS HUBBY WATCHES
My husband and I have one of the most unusual and successful sexual relationships imaginable, and I want to share our story with your readers. I am an extremely attractive woman in her early thirties—in fact, I am a well-paid model of high-fashion clothing—and my husband is a handsome, athletic man with a successful business organization.
During the last five of my seven years of marriage, I have been fucked by more than thirty different men, yet I have never once been unfaithful to my husband! You see, my husband’s biggest turn-on is to watch me fuck other men—and my biggest turn-on is to let him watch me doing it.
If someone had told me five years ago that this life-style would be my key to sexual ecstasy, I would have thought that person to be a lunatic. I was brought up as a strict Catholic. Until I began fucking other men, I believed that sex was of minimal importance, except for making babies. Before I got married, I’d never masturbated and never had an orgasm. I’d had sex with only two men, on four occasions, and I’d hated every minute of it!
During the first two years of my marriage, I didn’t come close to climaxing. Eventually, my doctor told me that my fallopian tubes had never completely developed, and that I couldn’t have children. So, for the first time in my life, I had to regard sex as a mechanism for pure pleasure rather than for reproduction.
For more than a year, my husband and I tried desperately to find ways to bring me to a climax, but I couldn’t reach it, no matter what we did. Soon, we both began to wonder if my problem stemmed from a lack of sexual compatibility with my husband. We discussed, and more often argued about, whether I could have orgasms with another man. Eventually, a marriage counselor suggested that I try it once, under very strict ground rules, in order to put the notion behind us and get on with our future.
Because of my good looks, I had very little trouble finding willing lovers, but I was uneasy about sleeping with anyone but my husband. I slept with three men in the next two months, but I just couldn’t respond. I kept wishing that my husband were nearby, so that I could feel safe. When I told him of my feelings, he suggested that he should hide in the house when I was with my next lover. He also confessed to me that, during each of my liaisons, he had had a burning desire to be in the bedroom, watching me. It seemed a weird idea, but as soon as he mentioned it, I became very turned on and asked him to make love to me.
The next evening, my husband drilled a peephole in the wall between the bedroom and the study, and a little later, he watched me fuck another man. Lo and behold, the thought of fucking another man, with my husband watching, was so thrilling that I came for the first time in my life. Boy, what a difference! I couldn’t wait for the man who was screwing me to leave, so that I could tell my husband that I had come. He was as turned on as I was! We talked about it all week.
In the following six months, I had four more lovers. Each time, my husband watched from the next room, and my pleasure increased. Moreover, having sex with my husband became marvelous. We shared a wonderful ritual. As soon as my lover left the house, my husband would come into the bedroom and seduce me. He would lick some of my lover’s come from my vagina and then enter me so that he could feel another man’s juices bathe his cock. Then, as he made beautiful love to me, he would ask me dozens of questions about my experience. The conversation was always the same:
“Did you come?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
(I would tell him.)
“Was it good?”
“Very good.”
“Better than me?”
“Yes, better, much better. I love fucking other men. They make me come again and again.”
And on cue, with those very words, both my husband and I would erupt into intense orgasms. You see, sharing my infidelities with my husband so opened me up sexually that my orgasms with him became as good, if not better, than with other men. But his big turn-on was the thought that other men were better suited for bringing me to orgasm, and I let him enjoy his thrilling concepts.
Finally, I met a man who raised me to a new level of sexual fulfillment. He was my tenth lover, and he was the first with an exceptionally large cock. My husband and my other lovers had average-size ones, perhaps six to seven inches long, while this man had an eight- or nine-inch-long cock that was also very thick. I was both impressed and intimidated when I first saw it. When he entered me, I immediately began feeling new sensations, and I had the ten best orgasms of my life during that first afternoon session with him. The size of his cock pushed my labia and clit down toward the opening of my vagina, and it was pure stimulation on every stroke. I couldn’t remember the details of what happened because I was totally absorbed in the sensation of back-to-back orgasms, but my husband told me that I had laughed and cried uncontrollably, that I had trembled orgasmically every few minutes, and that I had been very relaxed and spacey. All I know is that I hadn’t believed anything could be so good.
It was also the biggest turn-on my husband had ever had, and after my large-cocked lover had left, we enjoyed hours of climax-filled fucking and sucking. It was the best and most satisfying love my husband and I had ever made to each other. After several months, I discovered that sex with my husband had become better than with my liaisons. When I told my husband that he had really become the best of them all, he was overjoyed.
Armed with the knowledge that he was my best lover, my husband got up the courage to ask if I would make love to him and another man at the same time. After several months, when I met a man whom I felt would be compatible with us, I told my husband that I would try a threesome. To this day, I remain thankful that I did decide to go through with it. It was wonderful for all of us.
My husband and the other man were gentle, loving, and did everything to please me. The man said afterwards that he’d had the best lovemaking of his life, and my husband had had the chance to feel and listen to me as I climaxed with another man. Our ménage à trois took place every weekend for five months. They made love to me separately, together, and in every combination. I was fucked / sucked, fucked / ass-fucked, ass-fucked / eaten, ass-fucked / sixty-nined, ad infinitum. Neither man had any inhibitions about eating me or fucking me after the other one had just come inside of me. And I received compliance to a request for the performance of one of my secret fantasies. I watched my husband being ass-fucked while he made love to me—and then I sucked both men clean.
My relationship with my husband has gotten better and better. It works because we each possess an incredible desire to do that which most pleases the other. And it only works when we do it together—for each other. I know this, because on the fifteen or twenty occasions when I’ve fucked other men without my husband’s presence, I’ve been incapable of attaining a climax.
At last count, I have been fucked about five hundred times with my husband voyeuring or participating, and every time I’ve climaxed, I’ve done it for us.
Thank you, my darling husband. You’ve given me the happiest marriage on earth.—Name and address withheld
CAR FLIRTS HEAT UP TO A HORNY TIME
Let me offer your readers a pickup technique that was entirely new to me and that worked perfectly.
I was cruising home from work, thinking about my love life. My girlfriend had recently tossed me aside to marry a rich older man. In a way it was a relief to me to be rid of her, if that was what she was into, but I was feeling pretty horny.
I made a stop for a red light, and my attention was drawn by the very loud, very sexy disco music coming from the car to the right of mine. It was a cream-colored ‘64 Chevy convertible. It appeared to be in mint condition. It had a pink satin interior, and the top was down. Moreover, the driver was one of the tiniest, most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
Her hair was tied up in a scarf, but I could see a few black curls peeping out. I thought her hair had to be very long. Her skin was smooth and creamy. Her lips were the same shiny, deep pink as her car’s upholstery. She looked over at me, bouncing in time to the music, and winked one blue eye and licked her lips. Then she looked down at her left hand.
My eyes followed hers, and my cock rose to its full height. Her bare hand, with long, long fingers and rosy nails, was doing a lively dance on the outside of her car door. Always in time to the sensual music on the tape, she was miming foreplay.
She caressed an imaginary nipple with her middle finger. She rolled it in her palm and between her thumb and forefinger. Her pantomime was so accurate that there was no question what she was doing.
She stroked what I was coming to think of as my chest, tickling it with her nails. She inched her hand down, down, with little nips and pinches of her fingers. I could almost feel it. I had to open my fly before my cock was squeezed to death.
Suddenly, she grabbed the invisible thing she’d been reaching for, and jerked up and down, hard and quick, her hand tense with squeezing, her arm pumping. It was as close as I had ever been to coming without touching myself or being touched.
Then the light turned green, and she took off, but fast. I was so distracted with horniness that I almost lost her. Driving is very competitive on that road. But her Chevy, hot as it was, was no match for my Jaguar, and I was soon next to her again. She stared straight ahead, swaying and lip-synching the song “Lead Me On.”
Soon she slowed down, and I kept pace. I realized she was stalling to catch the next light on red, which suited me fine. I was aching to see more of her act.
Stopping for the light, she lightly brushed her fingers up and down over “my” chest. I could still feel and respond directly to her motions. I was so horny that I could feel the skin on my balls crawling.
Then she began to tease that invisible cock that I imagined so vividly was my own. She bent her fingers and held them in a tube shape, sliding them up and down around the shaft. She raised her hand, placing her fingertips around the head and gently kneading it. She formed a circle with her thumb and forefinger, and slid the circle up and down, spiraling around the shaft. She stroked it lightly with the backs of her long, shiny, pink fingernails. She cupped the invisible balls, weighed them, toyed with them.
I was gripping my steering wheel, afraid to touch my rampant prick, lest I shoot come all over the windshield or onto my face. It was like being tied up by my own willpower. All the fun but no release. Besides, I was saving up my jism in the fervent hope that I could get a lot closer to this hot pussycat in the hot pussy car.
The light was almost ready to change. Her left hand again took on the shape of a filled fist, and she moved it up and down, twice slowly and then three times fast. The light changed, and she floored her gas pedal again. I was amazed that she could concentrate so well on driving while putting on a sex show at the same time.
We sailed through the next few lights. I stuck like glue to her, while she pretended to ignore me. A couple of times, though, I nearly caught her eye. I was sure she wanted to pick me up.
At the next red light, she maneuvered carefully so we would be first in line. As we pulled up and stopped, she took a candy bar from her handbag and quickly unwrapped it. It was a Sugar Daddy, caramel on a stick. Now her hand and her mouth were both very busy.
She started by licking on the long, narrow, hard sweet. Then she nibbled on the end of it. Soon she was pushing it in and out of her mouth, deep-throating it, stopping now and then to suck on the tip of it or to draw circles on it with her stiff, pointed tongue. It was the first phantom blow job I’d ever had, and I wanted it to go on forever. My cock and balls were so full of hot, heady jism that it was an effort of will for me not to shoot my load. I kept holding myself off, though, mostly so I wouldn’t miss any of the show.
Her hand was a blur. In contrast to the smooth, even rhythm of the sweet stick in her mouth and the music coming from her car, her hand was moving in the fast, uneven tempo of a terrific orgasm.
Suddenly, the fistful got smaller and she dropped it. Then her hand rubbed make-believe jism all over the car door. Now, though, in my imagination, the door had big round tits with long nipples; I could see her playing with them as she massaged the door with her hand.
I looked at her face. She had shoved that Sugar Daddy clear down her throat and was gobbling and moaning. She jerked a few times on the candy and pulled it out of her mouth, slightly bent and much smaller than when it had gone in.
Then, still without looking at me, she tossed the half-eaten candy bar right into my lap. My cock throbbed and reared at the unexpected touch, and for the third time I had to concentrate to keep from coming. When I looked at her, she winked again, beckoned, and peeled out.
I stayed right beside her until she turned off onto a residential street. Then I followed her to a house set back among some trees. She parked her car and waited until I pulled in behind her and opened her door for her.
As for what we did in that house that night, and many nights since, perhaps more later.—C.D., Langhorne, Pennsylvania
FUCKING COUPLE SIGHTED—SEX SPREADS
I’ve always thought of fantasies as my way of “experiencing” things that are somewhat beyond the possible, of enjoying feelings that most people never really feel. What happened to me one recent Sunday morning has altered the threshold of reality so much that I’m afraid there is nothing left to fantasize about.
My wife, Julie, and I got up early to drive to a state park we had never visited before. It was a perfect early autumn morning, crisp and clear. The prospects were good for spectacular fall foliage, so we packed our camera and hit the road before seven. Ours was the only car in the parking lot when we started hiking down the main trail at about eight-thirty.
We spent the first hour of our hike so deeply absorbed in the sights and sounds of the park that we hardly spoke, except to whisper our delight at seeing a doe on the path ahead of us— or to call attention to a spiderweb that glistened with dew in the morning sunlight. By ten o’clock, I had shot my first roll of film and was looking for a place to reload. Wandering along a deserted loop trail, we found a rough-hewn bench and sat down.
It soon became obvious that Julie’s interest in nature had gone beyond the picture-taking stage. As I reloaded the camera, I felt her lips brushing my cheek and the side of my neck. The more I concentrated on getting the new roll of film started, the more insistent her needs became. When she started tickling the inside of my ear with the tip of her tongue, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I put down my camera and told Julie that she was about to get the fuck of her life.
We began to undress each other very slowly as if we wanted to make every move last as long as possible. We stood there on a cool, mossy carpet with only our underpants on. Julie slowly pressed her tits against my chest. Her breasts are large and firm, but they’re also long and just pendulous enough so that they swayed from side to side as she moved her slender body toward me.
While she cupped the straining pouch of my jockey shorts in her hand, I pressed one finger firmly against the bulge of her panties, feeling her warm fluids soak through the thin material. And she let me know how it felt, with a wonderful sigh of pleasure that echoed against the trees of our little clearing in the forest.
As if this perfect scene weren’t enough, the real excitement was just beginning. I caught a glimpse of movements as I looked over her shoulder. There, no more than twenty yards down the path, came an attractive couple, a little older than we are (probably in their mid-thirties) and a teenage girl. They were looking right at us. I instinctively averted my eyes. I’m sure Julie didn’t notice a thing, because she kept saying how good my finger felt. The man walking toward us grabbed the arms of the two females and pulled them back around the turn in the path and out of sight.
After a minute or so, just as I was beginning to regain my composure, the three of them, all looking transfixed, appeared again and just stood there in the path. I couldn’t believe that they didn’t know I’d seen them. The woman stood behind and to the side of the girl, holding the girl’s arm with both hands, as if to keep her from turning away, and the man stood behind both of them.
As the reality of the situation began to soak in, I got more and more excited about it. The better the show we could put on for them, the better I liked the idea, as long as I could keep Julie facing the other way, so she wouldn’t know we were being observed.
I didn’t seem to be having any trouble keeping her attention. When I knelt in front of her and pulled her soaked panties down, she immediately raised one foot to the bench and placed her hands behind my head, drawing my lips and tongue right into her gaping pussy. Her juices were streaming down the inside of her thighs in clear, slippery flows that soon inundated my cheeks and chin.
I ran my dripping tongue down her soft inner thigh, just to get another good look down the path. They were still there, and I don’t think it was my imagination that all three of them looked more than a little hot and bothered. The young girl—I’d say a well-gifted fifteen-year-old—was rhythmically shifting her weight from one long slender leg to the other. If I’d been a little closer, I’m sure I could have seen a growing spot on her shorts between those well-shaped thighs. The woman kept glancing back at her husband, who looked transfixed, wishing his tongue were my tongue.
I went back to work on Julie’s bottom again, and by the urging her hands conveyed to my head, I knew she was about to come. As I nipped and sucked at the tip of her big clit, her rhythmic sighs grew to unashamed cries of pleasure, which filled the forest around us for a minute or more. While I buried my face in Julie’s sopping cunt, her secretions flooded down my neck and chest.
I abandoned all restraint and had Julie sit with her legs straddling the bench. I could feel the heaviness of my cock and balls swinging freely. Apparently, our spectators were impressed by the size of my hard-on, because I saw them all exchange incredulous glances.
Julie and I shifted position, and I whispered to her in detail what I was about to do to her. I made her lean back and then I sucked her luscious tits until her nipples were crimson shafts, almost three-fourths of an inch long.
We sat facing each other on the bench, and I helped her raise her gaping crotch up to the tense, purple head of my cock. I felt like a cannon about to go off! She kept telling me what a big boy I was (she always tells me that when I’m about to fuck her). Then she lowered herself slowly into my lap and, looking down to watch, impaled herself with several delicious squatting thrusts. I leaned back and watched, too, as inch by inch, her puckering inner lips engulfed my rigid staff. It had always been a pretty tight fit for Julie and me before, but this day she was so ripe that she could have taken a stud horse to the hilt.
Again, Julie’s sweet cries carried in the cool air, and between her cries, I’m sure, our friends could hear the soft, wet, slopping sounds we were making.
Looking over Julie’s shoulder, I could see the young girl was nearly beside herself. Her right hand was now buried inside her shorts. The woman’s head rested back against her husband’s chest, her eyes glued to us. Her pleasure was no secret, either, as he cupped her breasts in his hands. If I could have done it without Julie knowing, I would have invited them to come over and stand right next to us for the best possible view.
It seemed as if Julie’s orgasm lasted several minutes this time. Her thighs pistoned her eager hips up high enough so that the huge blossom of my cock just rested between her lips, and then she would drop down to engulf its entire length again. Just as she seemed to be unwinding, she rose to her third climax—and over the next few minutes, she experienced yet another. She was absolutely insatiable. She just kept pumping and pumping, and our juices just kept pouring out, soaking our legs and the bench supporting us.
All the time, I feasted my eyes on the young girl, now trembling in the throes of her own orgasm. The couple didn’t touch her at all, but they were sure interested. I don’t think they knew whether to keep watching us or her. She had managed to lower her shorts and panties, but only to her knees. The poor thing looked as if she couldn’t spread her legs far enough apart.
Meanwhile, Julie continued to come. This time, I was with her. I couldn’t imagine how she had anything left to give, but it was the biggest climax yet. We were both screaming as we gushed our final release.
By the time we got up to get dressed, our spectators had ducked out of sight. I knew they’d eventually have to pass our bench to get back to the parking lot. As Julie and I walked slowly off, I looked back. All I could see was the bench, with a soaked spot right in the middle.
I would have given anything to hear what was said in their car as our friends rode home. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they had stopped to reenact the melodrama they had just seen.—Name and address withheld
BUSINESSMAN SHOWS OFF HIS COCK TO WOMEN, AND JERKS IT OFF, TOO
I am an attractive, successful, thirty-three-year-old businessman who, for the past fifteen years, has enjoyed showing my prick and balls to women. In this time, I have shown my privates to at least three hundred women. With looks ranging from quick glances to longing stares accompanied by full masturbation, women have viewed my dick in parks, libraries, college dorms, apartment buildings, theaters, cars, and on the street.
In college, I used to wear short cutoffs, torn up the sides, and no underwear. I’d go to the library and sit across from a sexy girl, letting her see my cock. Sometimes, I’d quietly masturbate while she watched. Whenever I was invited to a girl’s room to study, I’d lie on the bed with my knees up and legs apart. When this happened, the only thing these girls studied was my penis. They always carefully positioned themselves to stare right at it.
After college, I rented a room across from a hospital. One night, I got so horny watching the nurses that I just had to let them see my erect penis. With the lights on and window shades up, I walked around nude until I’d caught the attention of two young nurses. When I saw them sneaking looks at me, I lay on the bed with a pillow on my chest, which I pretended was a girl, and masturbated.
The nurses stood at the window with big smiles, watching me as I slowly stroked my cock and shot my load into the air. The next night, the same nurses were staring out of the hospital window, waiting for me to repeat the performance, but I didn’t oblige.
I’ve also lived across from female exhibitionists and frequently masturbated while they dressed or walked around nude. One woman loved to exercise in the nude and then to masturbate while lying belly-down on the bed, with her hands buried in her snatch. Many times, I jerked off wildly as I watched her.
My favorite episode occurred last spring. I was in my car, smoking a joint and reading Penthouse Letters, several blocks away from a local high school. I looked up, and saw three girls walking toward me. There was a brunet with large breasts, a sleek blonde with firm, medium breasts and a tight ass, and a beautiful Oriental girl with small breasts and long, straight hair. They all wore designer jeans and tight blouses.
I got out of the car and ducked behind a tree. As they passed my car and saw the open magazine on the seat, I heard them giggle. I was already stroking myself when they walked past the tree, all smiles and whispers. As they continued walking down the street, the sight of their swaying young asses was more than I could take. Without a second’s hesitation, I dropped my pants and undershorts, fell to my knees, and started beating off like crazy, trying to come before they got too far away.
Suddenly, the blonde and the Oriental turned around and sat down, looking straight at me from only about thirty feet away. The brunet took a few more steps and then glanced back over her shoulder, giving me a profile of her luscious breasts. I continued pumping my pecker, somewhat more slowly, while they watched, fascinated. The brunet just gaped, while the blonde and Oriental talked and giggled, until I finally shot my load all over the grass in front of me.
The blonde then teasingly called down, “Did you get off OK?”—even though she knew I had. I said yes, and stood up to show them my full seven-and-a-half-incher, with its head still glistening with come. The brunet let out a little squeal. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked or delighted. The three of them then continued on their way, laughing and glancing back at me as I pulled up my shorts. I can only wonder what they said about me.
I’ve had numerous other experiences, and I hope to have lots more. So, girls, stay alert. If you should see me, relax, have fun, and enjoy the show. And, needless to say, if you want something more, don’t be too shy to ask. I’d love to fulfill your fantasies, too.—Name and address withheld
CINDI GETS BAWLED OUT—AND BALLED OUT, TOO
I am an assistant cook at a fairly large California restaurant. As an avid reader of Penthouse Letters, I would like to relate an experience that I had about a month ago.
It happened after I had spent the best part of three hours putting away new stock that had come in that morning. I had the place very tidy when Cindi, a waitress, came into the storeroom. The uniforms worn by the waitresses here are made to bring out the girls’ best features, and Cindi is one of the most beautiful girls working in the place. Her beautifully shaped thighs lead up to a wonderful ass that is almost exposed whenever she bends over. Her tits are perfectly shaped, with large nipples that can be seen pressing against the thin fabric of her blouse. Her gorgeous face is complemented by her long blond hair.
As she walked into the storeroom, she asked where the salad oil was. I pointed to it and, as she picked up the five-gallon container, I copped a look at her lovely bottom. No sooner had she picked it up than she dropped it. Five gallons of salad oil spilled all over the floor. In my anger, I forgot her luscious ass and began to yell at her about the mess she’d made. After several minutes of my scolding her, she covered her face and began to cry.
At this, I stopped my ranting and went over to her. I told her that I was sorry I’d lost my temper. With a sudden smile on her tear-stained face, Cindi began to massage my cock through my pants with one hand and untie the top of her uniform with the other.
I was stunned. It was a fantasy come true. Thinking fast, and being sure not to slip on the oil, I went to the door and locked the dead bolt. I returned to find Cindi totally nude. After I quickly took off my pants, we grasped each other and went into a deep French kiss. She had her hands all over my cock while I inserted two fingers into her warm love hole.
Breaking off our kiss, we fell to the oil-slicked floor in a 69 position. It was hard to lie still in all that salad oil, but as I was slipping and sliding around, I knew I was going to come soon, and I managed to keep my tongue concentrated on her clit. We climaxed together, and Cindi gulped down every drop of my load. When we kissed again, she licked her juices from my smiling face. Playing with my limp rod, she soon had it at attention again. As I spread her legs, she scooped up some of the oil and lubricated my cock. I was about to enter her when she whispered, “Yell at me.”
“What?”
“Fuck me, and yell at me like you did when I dropped the oil.”
I shoved my rod into her hot twat and started to scold her and call her nasty names.
“Harder! Harder! Fuck me harder—and louder!” she gasped.
I slammed my balls against her cunt lips with exclamations of “You fucking bitch!” and “Stupid whore!” I lost my load—and my voice—when I soon experienced the best orgasm of my life.
Totally exhausted, I got a towel from one of the lockers and we quickly wiped the oil from our bodies before putting our clothes on. As we left the storeroom, we were met at the door by two other waitresses with curious looks on their faces.
Cindi later informed me that she had faked her crying in hopes that I would respond as I did. She told me that she had always wanted her husband to scream and talk dirty to her when they fucked, but that he wouldn’t. Since the storeroom incident, I have masturbated Cindi in the employees’ dining room while whispering dirty words to her. Next, she wants to try a fast fuck in the freezer! Has anybody else had any restaurant fun?—Name and address withheld
PUBIC-HAIR REMOVAL TURNS ON THEIR FRIENDS
I would like to share with your readers an adventure I had recently with my wife and her boyfriend. It all began when we had a talk about shaving her cunt, so we men could enjoy it more. She was, to put it mildly, reluctant as hell about letting us remove her pussy hair, which is very bushy. One day last month, however, she came to me with a proposition. She would let her boyfriend and me shave her cunt if she and he could first shave my entire body—and record the whole thing on film.
Needless to say, I got quite excited about making her pussy bald, but when it came to losing all my body hair, I thought twice. You see; I am an extremely hairy man, and everyone in our apartment complex has seen me in swimming trunks. What would they think if I showed up at the pool suddenly clean-shaven? Nevertheless, I decided to accept my wife’s offer, but I insisted that a depilatory be used instead of a razor.
Unknown to me, when the appointed hour arrived, my wife had invited friends over to watch. I went into the bedroom, where I stripped and was then tied spread-eagle to the bed. Five naked couples were in the room, all eager to see their first depilated cock. My wife and her boyfriend applied the hair-removal spray carefully, being sure not to get any on the skin of my cock. About five minutes later they marched me off to the shower, from which I emerged as hairless as a babe. The effect of my new appearance on the audience was impressive. The women seemed especially fascinated by the sight of my unadorned cock. They proceeded to rub skin lotion all over my body.
After that, I had more sex than I have ever enjoyed in a single day. It was a dream come true. I had women sucking my cock, nipples and toes, while I ate the cunt of a friend’s wife. For the next two days, women whom I barely knew were coming over and asking my wife if I could strip so they could see my hairless crotch. Word had gotten out, and for the next two weeks, almost everyone I knew mentioned something about my bald crotch.
Last weekend, after her boyfriend and I denuded my wife’s pussy, we decided to have a party in the rec house by the pool. We invited fifteen couples over for drinks and a swim. The pool is located in the middle of the apartment complex, but at night, with the lights out, it is dark enough for nude swimming. When we finally got down to skinny-dipping, I discovered to my surprise that out of the fifteen couples, ten had hairless cocks and pussies. They said they had been inspired by my example.
I’m planning to keep any hair from growing out again around my penis, because I’ve been getting more sex—especially blow jobs—than ever before. I suggest that any man who is ready for something new should try the clean-shaven look. You will be amazed at how large your cock appears. Mine is only average (six and a half inches), but it looks much bigger now.—J.F., Lansing, Michigan
PTA CHAIRLADY GIVES VIRGIN STUDENT A HOT RIDE IN BOTTOMLESS CHAIR
I admit my skepticism up to now, but I had an experience recently that has convinced me that your letters are true. I am a student at a local college, and am so shy that I’ve managed to get this far without having a single pleasant encounter with a member of the opposite sex. Every time a beautiful girl approaches me in a hallway, I break out into a cold sweat and become tongue-tied.
All that changed one day this summer. I was dressed only in my cutoffs and enjoying the sun at home in my backyard, when my mother announced she had a dentist’s appointment but needed to deliver some papers to the chairlady of the PTA on the other side of town. She wanted to know if I could drop off the papers for her. My heart sank as I envisioned a wasted summer day.
The PTA chairlady had been to our house several times for committee meetings and I remembered her as a very curt, plainly dressed woman of about forty. She always wore her hair in a bun and spoke in clipped sentences. Although my mother and many of her friends seemed to like Mrs. Bartlett, with me she was all business.
When I arrived at the Bartletts’, I noticed that Mr. Bartlett’s pickup was nowhere to be seen, which is not that unusual since Mr. Bartlett has his own construction company and is often out of town. When nobody answered the doorbell, I went around the house to the pool to try to find Mrs. Bartlett. Imagine my surprise when I saw a voluptuous brunet in a white string bikini lying on her stomach, her skin glistening with suntan oil. At first I thought I had the wrong house, but when she sat up I realized that the heavenly body in front of me did indeed belong to Mrs. Bartlett. I broke out in my usual cold sweat, but I felt a distinct twinge in my groin. As she leaned forward to take the papers, she revealed the most beautiful set of tits I had ever seen.
Staring at the bulge in my pants, she thanked mc and asked if I was enjoying my summer vacation. I stammered nervously that it was quite dull so far, and to my surprise she nodded her head in sympathy. With a suggestive smile she told me that sometimes people have to make their own fun and added that since her husband had been out of town for nearly two weeks, she herself was quite ready to do that. Without another word, she reached out and gently caressed my rock-hard nine-incher, which was beginning to peck out of the top of my cutoffs. I moaned in delight and just stared (one of her magnificent breasts had slipped out of her bikini). In a flash she had my shorts down around my ankles and had taken my entire penis into her warm, moist mouth. It was the first time I had ever experienced this pleasure, and I came almost immediately. I thought I would never stop, yet she greedily swallowed every last drop of my virgin love juice.
Now I was at a loss for what to do. But Mrs. Bartlett took charge. Still licking her lips, she instructed me to lie flat on my back on her beach towel. I did so, watching in amazement as she slipped out of her bikini to reveal a perfectly shaved pussy. Next, she straddled my face, and not knowing what to do but enjoying the scent, I decided to explore the treasure that had been presented to me. I felt her body shake as my tongue darted nervously into her steaming cunt, and I heard her gasp with delight when I found the love button that I’d previously only read about in textbooks. Now she began moving her hips violently and grinding her pussy lips into my hungry mouth. Before long she was crying, “Oh, my darling, eat me! Oh, yes! Yes! Faster!”
I sensed that she was on the verge of orgasm, so I ran my tongue rapidly across her clit, at which she let out a yell and fell off of me in complete exhaustion. As we lay there panting, I noticed to my delight that my cock was once again standing at attention. This time I knew exactly what to do. I knelt between her legs but, to my surprise, she told me to wait. Her fragrant juices running down her tan thighs, she took my hand and led me into the house.
As she led me up the stairs to the bedroom, she told me she had a special surprise for mc, and in her bedroom I saw it right away: In the corner of the room a basketlike chair was suspended from the ceiling by pulleys. She told me coyly to lie underneath the odd-looking contraption, which I did. As she climbed into the seat, my anticipation grew, and with it the size of my tool. She instructed me to spin the basket and use the rope beside me to raise and lower it. I noticed then that her pussy was positioned directly over a hole in the bottom of the basket, and my curiosity was satisfied.
I gave the basket a spin and started to lower it slowly. When the head of my cock touched her spinning, dripping cunt, sending electric shocks through my body, she moaned. I spun the basket once more and lowered it further, watching the dark nipples on her heaving breasts swell in excitement. The sensation was beyond anything I had ever imagined. Feeling a surge in my groin, I gave the basket a final spin and lowered it all the way. That’s when she begged me to fuck her like she had never been fucked before. I then pulled on the rope in short jerks, making her cunt engage and release my cock time and time again.
Her moans turned to short gasping yelps and my own climax approached. I arched my back and had the greatest orgasm ever and she too lost control, her fingers gripping the side of the basket as she begged for more. I thought I would black out by the time my orgasm was over. Mrs. Bartlett was now screaming at the top of her lungs with animal-like abandon. The basket came slowly to a stop and my now withering cock slipped out of her. After we had recovered enough to stand on our feet, we took a slow sensuous shower together.
As a result of my initiation into the realm of fantastic sex, my mother has never had to worry about getting her reports delivered to Mrs. Bartlett on time.—Name and address withheld
SEX SHIFTS INTO HIGH AS WOMAN DISCOVERS NEW MODE OF “AUTO” EROTICISM
Almost three years ago my husband and I shared an experience that we both very much enjoyed and that we haven’t ever read about in Penthouse Letters. At that time we’d just begun living together and I discovered that he really got off by watching me masturbate and by stimulating me with miscellaneous objects—candles, a dildo, even a large cucumber that he inserted into my cunt.
Because my husband is a construction worker, he often drives to company meetings. I’ve accompanied him on the tedious six-hour drive, which we find more enjoyable if it is alleviated with sex games.
For example, we were returning home one summer evening and he told me to take off my jeans. I quickly did, excited at the prospect of playtime. Then he instructed me to sit very close to him. As I moved over on the seat, he slipped his hand under me, fingered my clit and slipped his fingers inside. I was so turned on that I begged him to pull off the road, but he laughingly told me, “Not yet.” Then he half-lifted me off the seat. I cooperated as he pressed my pubic bone and then my clit against the vibrating four-speed floor shift. I came almost immediately. It was great. The road was slightly bumpy, and the gearshift transmitted all the vibrations very pleasantly. I climaxed once more, and then he lifted my ass up higher. I felt his thick, strong fingers part my labia, slide deep inside me and then out again. He repositioned me slightly, and I felt the smooth, wide gearshift knob, dampened with my wetness, pressing against my labia and then sliding into me.
Still driving down the highway at a steady fifty-five miles per hour, he began rhythmically stroking my clit, and as my wetness increased, the gearshift knob slid further inside me. It was tremendous—the feel of his fingers on my clit, the size and pressure of the knob, the continuous vibrations. The sensation was so unbelievably wonderful that I had a stupendous wave of orgasms, peak after peak, each one more intense and lasting longer. I must have enjoyed twenty orgasms as he continued to drive and play with me. I was lost in waves of delight, moaning and writhing, screaming out my pleasure. I barely noticed as he turned off the highway down a dark country road. After helping me disengage myself, he parked the truck. I unzipped his pants and caressed his huge erection with my mouth. I felt it deep in my throat, but after a couple of strokes, he turned me away from him. I knelt on my hands and knees as he penetrated me with smooth, deep strokes, and I climaxed five or six times before he filled me with come.
Unfortunately, his company has now provided him with a more modern truck—one with an automatic transmission—which has taken some of the fun out of our trips. I hope that my husband will succeed in finding just what he’s looking for—in time for our next vacation—an older, ratty jeep or four-speed pickup!—L.R., Silver City, New Mexico
Editors’ note; Despite L.R.’s high praise of gearshift knobs as pussy stimulators, we would discourage women from doing what she says she’s done. It can be dangerous, especially in a moving vehicle.
ONLY PANTY-CLAD COCKS GET NEAR HER BOX
I am a twenty-seven-year-old graduate student in my second year at a southern university. Moving here from Boston has been a big adjustment for me. However, I have found a small diversion that has made the adjustment much easier.
A while ago I discovered three things about myself: One, I don’t get off from balling; two, I love cunnilingus—I would rather have a guy’s tongue in me than his cock anytime; three, the one thing I do like about a man’s cock is the way it feels through a silky, sexy fabric. I discovered this a couple of years ago with a boyfriend who wore nylon briefs.
After I was settled in my new home, I decided to take charge of my sex life—have it go my way. Some of the young undergraduate boys at the university are easy prey; I am pretty and have a nice figure, so I can turn these boys on like a lamp. I like to dress up and go out and find a nice-looking prospect to take back to my apartment.
After we have a few drinks, I remove my dress and stroll around in my slip, nylons and high heels. As soon as I have my boy panting for my bod, I sit down and prop my legs up so that my slip slides up, revealing my stockings, garter belt and bush. Needless to say, by this time I have my boy’s undivided attention.
Next, I start masturbating myself until I am dripping wet with anticipation. The boy is almost going crazy at this point; I love to see his hard cock bulging in his pants, ready for action. I go to him, rub his cock through his pants and suggest that we go into the bedroom, where I tell him to strip.
The boy will almost always leap out of his clothes. I rub up against him and kiss him a few times. When he is almost frantic to get his meat in my oven, I take a pair of my panties out of a drawer and explain my fetish. Very few boys have refused to put them on.
Next, we get on the bed in a 69 position. I guide his head to my dripping bush and tell him to kiss it. I begin to rub his cock and balls through my panties, which really churns him up. Usually, he’ll start eating pussy like it’s going out of style. Now I am ready to cut loose, so I clamp my legs around his head, get a firm grip on his cock and balls, and start humping his sweet lips and tongue.
After I’ve come as many times as I can, I tell him that I’m too exhausted to ball and that I think he should leave and come back another time. Of course, sometimes the boy will come in my panties while I’m humping his face. I really like that because I love the feel of his squirting cock in my hand, and I particularly love the look on his face when I tell him he must wash out my panties before he leaves or he can’t come back. I have never had anyone refuse this little request.
I have been getting off like this about twice a week now for nearly a year. What amazes me most is that I have several repeaters. I don’t know what it is—maybe the fresh air—but the South certainly is number one when it comes to cunt-lappers. Little did I think when I came down here that things would work out so well.
Recently, I took in a roommate to cut down on expenses. I told her about my “hobby.” She didn’t believe me until she hid in my closet one evening and saw for herself. We’re now planning to team up and get double duty from our catches.—M.A.K., Jackson, Mississippi
TWO GUYS GIVE SWEET BUTTERFLY SIPS OF THEIR LOVE NECTAR
My childhood sweetheart and I were married five years ago while still in our teens. So far we haven’t had any children. Karen, who looks a lot like Mario Thomas, is still a student at the University of Washington. She often wears boy’s jeans or cords, with tennis shoes and a shirt, sweater or sweatshirt. When we are out together, however, she leans toward far more provocative apparel. Her favorite dress is a calf-length silk print with a very low, scooped neckline. When she moves in a certain manner, her neckline falls aside, totally exposing one or the other of her breasts. This often occurs while she casually studies a menu with the waiter looking on or while getting out of our car, or at a cocktail party. She has average-size breasts but they are round and high, with pointed tips that look too good to be real.
One day on the tennis court I noticed that she had an appreciative audience of four young guys seated on the ground behind her. While facing away from me, she bent down to retrieve a ball. Then I saw that under her short tennis dress she was wearing panties that consisted of only small triangles in front and back, with a seam that disappeared between the cheeks of her pert ass. That was the end of play for us, for I got such an erection that I was unable to continue.
We were both virgins when we first went to bed together, and only once have we ever thought it desirable to include another person in our sex life—our good friend Ron. Besides me and Ron, the only man ever to see Karen’s naked crotch was a tattoo artist some years ago. As an anniversary present to me, she’d shaven her pubic hair and had a butterfly tattooed above her cunt. She admitted to having had two small climaxes while the artist worked on her, sitting between her legs with his mouth only inches from her slit. Gently he’d stretched and twisted her tenderest flesh to create the butterfly design. When he’d finished, as he was rubbing antiseptic lotion on her, he dipped one finger between her pussy lips and said he would waive his fee if she would have sex with him. With his finger still penetrating her, she had a shattering orgasm, then paid him and left. Her pubic hair has grown back, but it is so sparse and fine that you can see her pink lips and the butterfly through it.
The thing with Ron happened a few weeks ago when he and I returned from a three-day fishing trip and found Karen asleep. It was rather late. I have known Ron since we were children, and he and Karen are more like brother and sister than just friends. He was to spend the night sleeping on our couch. It only seemed natural, however, that he should follow me into my king-size bed. All Karen did was slide up next to me and rest her head on my chest.
A few minutes later, when Ron’s breathing suggested he was asleep, Karen started nibbling my nipples and lightly stroked my cock. After a few minutes of this, I slipped her gown up above her breasts and positioned myself on top of her. I entered her in one long, well-lubricated stroke. She was moving very slowly and sleepily and making soft sighs and whimpering sounds. Ron was lying on his back when I placed Karen’s hand on his large, soft cock. She left her hand there, motionless, and I placed my hand on top of hers. Intertwining my fingers with hers, I started making a slow circular motion. Ron’s softness began to harden. He soon raised his hips to help as I rolled his bikini shorts down to just below his balls. I pulled my cock out of Karen and repositioned her on her side facing Ron before I entered her again, this time from the rear. I was moving slowly in and out of her as she pushed against me and gently stroked Ron’s groin. I reached over her and encircled the base of his tumescent member with my thumb and forefinger, cradling his balls with the rest of my hand. Karen then leaned down and took his impressive hard-on in her mouth. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, as in a dream.
I felt Ron’s penis throb and heave as he shot off in Karen’s mouth. She followed immediately with her own orgasm, quickening her movements as I released into her. She turned to me with a long, wet kiss so she could share Ron’s hot jism with me. Karen and I then fell asleep in each other’s arms with her head tucked against my chest.
A few hours later I woke to the feel of her soft, wet lips sliding up and down my penis. There was also a very masculine hand rubbing me around my balls and a gentle rocking motion coming from behind Karen. I needn’t detail our lovemaking further, except to say that I’ll always be grateful for having such a sexy and adoring wife and a wonderful, loving friend.—R.P., Tacoma, Washington
IT WAS A LONG TIME COMING, BUT WOMAN FINALLY EXPERIENCES THE BIG O
I am an attractive twenty-six-year-old divorced woman who once told a friend that I would never write to Penthouse Letters until I’d had my first orgasm. Since I’m writing now, you already have an idea of what this letter is about!
Although I enjoyed an active sex life with my ex-husband while we were married, I never managed to have an orgasm. Since my divorce a year ago, I have shared my bed with several loving, handsome men, each of whom made it his personal mission to be the first to bring me off. While I certainly enjoyed their special attention and the pleasurable sensations it brought, they failed in their mission. I was beginning to think I was doomed to go through life that way. Until two weeks ago, that is.
That’s when a friend, who manages an athletic club, invited me to a private party there. Although I was sure I wouldn’t know anyone at the party, I decided to go. When I arrived, I saw that there were over one hundred guests—noisy, high, having a great time. We had the run of the place, which covers several blocks. Guests wandered about the tennis courts, racquetball courts and pool. I grabbed a drink at the open bar and started to mingle.
After I’d been at the party for over an hour and downed several drinks, I decided to explore the main building. I found that beyond the racquetball courts were several large weight-training rooms. The rooms appeared deserted. As I strolled into one of them to examine the equipment, I heard a deep, sexy voice say, “How much can you handle?” I whirled around and was startled to see a good-looking guy whom I’d noticed earlier at the bar. He was sitting cross-legged on a mat, flashing a charming grin at me. He stood up and came over to me. We began to talk while walking slowly around the room, sipping our drinks. When we passed a massage table, I noticed a rectangular object, about the size of a man’s hand, and asked what it was.
He smiled and replied, “It’s an athletic vibrator.” Immediately, he slipped his hand under the strap, turned it on, and ran the humming machine across his face and neck. “It feels good,” he said. “You ought to try it.”
With that, he began to massage my shoulders and neck with the pulsing machine. My first inclination was to pull away, but it felt so good that I let him continue. He began to whisper soothingly to me as he moved the vibrator across my tired muscles. “Feel how it relaxes you?” he said. “I can see all the tension leaving your body. I can see your beautiful body relaxing—melting—relaxing.” I felt like I was in a trance as I closed my eyes and leaned back against the massage table.
He began to move the vibrator up my arm, across my shoulders, and then to my breasts. I could feel my nipples pressing against my light sweater with an excitement I couldn’t control. I felt a tingle between my legs, and suddenly realized that my panties were dripping with my own passion juices.
He slowly eased the vibrator from my throbbing breasts to my wet pussy. At his first touch there I let out a moan, and I heard him whisper, “Relax, let me massage you. I know all the right places.” He pulled up my skirt, gently removed my soaked panties and placed me upon the massage table. With the vibrator he caressed my helpless, throbbing pussy while his free hand explored my breasts and he sucked and licked my erect nipples. My whole body was bursting with incredibly pleasant sensations.
Then, confident of my readiness, he put down the vibrator and inserted his throbbing dick into my eager pussy. His dick was so hard that it hurt me at first, but with each thrust I felt a more intense desire come over my body. I began to moan and toss my head from side to side. He grabbed my hair and pulled my face up to his and thrust his tongue into my open mouth.He ran it across my teeth, along the roof of my mouth, and then he thrust his whole mouth against mine until our teeth clashed. His hand was on my breast, sometimes gentle, sometimes rougher. I became aware of a sustained wailing sound and was startled to realize it was coming from my own mouth!
His strokes became faster and faster, and he positioned himself so that each thrust sent a delicious wave through my trembling clit. I began to see colors behind my closed eyelids. All of a sudden I felt something strange rising in me. It was as if a powerful surge were rushing up through my body from my cunt. In panic I tried to pull away from him, but he shoved me back down. “You can’t stop it now!” he snapped hoarsely. No sooner did these words leave his lips than the wave engulfed me—my body jerked and convulsed, and my arms went wild. I screamed and pulled at his hair, and then I felt him jerk and moan above me as he shot his wad deep into my cunt.
Since that wonderful night we have shared the same bed every evening. He thinks I am the sexiest, most responsive woman he has ever met. I haven’t yet told him my secret—that he is the only man who’s ever made me come—but I will sometime soon.—Name and address withheld