Letters to Penthouse IV (7 page)

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 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.—
CD., Langhorne, Penna.

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.