Letters to Penthouse VI (33 page)

Kenny started jerking off for the third time. He must have finally reached his limit because he went ballistic, pulling his pud with wild, feverish strokes. His hand was a blur as it slid from the base of his pole to the tip. He raised his butt off the bed and arched his back as he frantically pounded his tool. Every muscle in his body tightened as his load squirted into his palm. My cock throbbed feverishly as he continued to milk his member long after the last drop of come had oozed out. After leaning back into his pillow for a few moments to recover, he got up, washed his hands and then went back to bed and slept.

As soon as I thought he was sleeping, I pulled down my covers, pulled my shorts down to my knees and grabbed my aching dick. The thought of disciplining myself to stop just before I shot my load was out of the question! I was so excited that I came in only about ten strokes. It was the most intense orgasm I'd ever had.

The very next night we went out and partied at a local heavy-metal club. We both met attractive girls. They wouldn't come back to our dorm room to get high, but they did say they might do so in the future. After Kenny and I dropped them off at their dorm, we went home, excited by the prospect of fucking these two lovely ladies sometime soon.

After the lights were out, I couldn't wait for Kenny to fall asleep so I could jerk off. His breathing soon became slow and barely audible. I figured he was asleep and that it was safe to beat my meat. I slid my shorts down and started to rub my throbbing penis. As my excitement grew, I decided to try to stop just before my orgasm to extend my pleasure, the way I'd secretly observed Kenny doing the night before. My stroke was rapid and my heart was racing. My balls started to tighten as I approached orgasm, Just as I felt my groin begin to spasm. I forced myself to stop—and just in time too. The feeling of holding off orgasm at the last second was so intense, I couldn't resist doing it again.

I took my hand off my cock, closed my eyes and let myself settle down. Just before I was going to start pumping again, I felt a warm hand grip my penis and begin stroking it. I was startled to realize that Kenny must have been watching me jerk off. Now he'd quietly snuck over and was kneeling beside my bed in the dark, jerking me off! Without saying a word, I lay back and enjoyed it.

Kenny expertly played with my penis. His hand slid up and down my shaft, and he pulled the skin up over the tip of the very sensitive head. I was surprised at how unashamed I was to have a man yank me off.

The next thing I knew, Kenny slipped into bed with me. I could feel the warmth of his naked body. A thrill shot through me as his rock-hard penis touched mine. My excitement got the best of me. I ran my hands up and down his muscular chest, and felt him tremble with excitement as I ran my fingers through his kinky pubic hair and gently squeezed his big, sperm-filled balls. I wrapped my hand around his prick and pumped it up and down. He grabbed my member again and matched my movements stroke-for-stroke.

We explored each other's cock and balls, taking each other to the brink of climax several times. After about half an hour of this, I sensed that we both were ready to come. As I felt my balls tighten, I could feel Kenny's body quiver with anticipation. We both were trembling as we pulled each other to climax. Kenny's hard penis pulsed several thick jets of sperm into my hand. In turn, his hand was the recipient of my own creamy love-milk.

We were so exhausted from the workout that we fell right asleep. When we woke the next morning, we decided that we would never repeat our experience of the previous night, but we agreed that we were glad it happened once.—
Name and address withheld

THE ONLY SINGLES BAR HE'LL EVER NEED IS RIGHT BETWEEN HIS LEGS

I am forty years old and recently divorced. My sex life over the past decade has been quite ordinary, with the frequency of sexual activity much lower than I care to admit. This has been due to my having committed myself to career advancement, civic responsibilities and raising a family. I don't have any regrets about the life I've chosen, but I'm amazed at how much I've changed since I went to college in the early 1970s.

I attended a very small, liberal, four-year school in New England. Drug use and sexual experimentation were the norm then, and I experienced everything I could. My hard cock found its way into a wide variety of things ranging from men and women to fruits and vegetables. Many nights were spent in dark rooms in the midst of some sort of group grope, being rubbed, licked, sucked, stroked and fucked to orgasm by the hands, mouths, feet and genitalia of males and females alike.

Anyway, I thought those adventurous days were behind me. My attention and energy had been redirected to the more serious pursuits of career and security. But a couple of things have happened since my recent divorce that have made me realize I haven't changed all that much.

As a newly single man, I had to find a place to live. I approached a male friend of mine who is my age and has never been married. He agreed to let me move into his apartment with him. Joel is a landscaper and a triathlete. Although he is in his early forties, he has the body of a twenty-year-old. I run twenty-five miles a week, so I'm in great shape myself. Joel is proud of his body, and spends much of the time at home in his boxer shorts or totally nude. He never gets dressed in the morning until he has to go out. I found this odd at first, but grew quite used to it within a few weeks. In fact, I took up nudism in the apartment too, and found it to be a lot of fun.

When I first moved in, Joel and I talked a lot about lifestyles, philosophies, sexual experiences and the common bond we shared: keeping our bodies healthy through rigorous exercise. Joel's girlfriend, Wanda, is a beautiful blonde who is always tan and is also quite athletic. Joel asked me to help give Wanda a special birthday present: a ménage à trois! I surprised myself by quickly agreeing. I knew it would be a fun experience for all of us. Joel set the stage for the evening's activities. It was to be a surprise for Wanda, who had years earlier mentioned to Joel that her biggest fantasy was to enjoy two men at the same time. The plan was this: Joel and Wanda would go out to dinner, then return to our apartment at midnight. I was to stay at home and get into Joel's bed before midnight. I bought a large bottle of red wine and rented three X-rated videos in preparation for the big night. I got into Joel's bed at about nine o'clock, drinking wine and watching the videos.

Joel had made up the bed with black satin sheets. They felt terrific against my nude body. All three videos I'd rented were bisexual films. I drank wine and watched these films for two and a half hours. My prick never went soft! On several occasions the action on-screen got me so hot that I thought I would have to jerk off to relieve the sexual tension. But I wanted to save my big load for Wanda, so I held off.

Precisely at midnight I heard the apartment door open. I got a little nervous about what was to happen next, but I was too sexually aroused to either chicken out or, for that matter, lose my hard-on. I heard Joel say, “Wait out here for a few minutes, then come into the bedroom.”

Joel walked into the bedroom and gave me a big, broad grin. He stripped to his underwear and asked if I was ready for a really fun evening. I told him I'd been getting ready all night long. Joel was now wearing only his blue paisley boxer shorts. He turned toward me and pulled them down. His cock was already stiff. He pulled the shorts down slowly, revealing his fat penis an inch at a time while looking me straight in the eye. As the waistband cleared the head of his penis, his erection sprang back up so that it was pointed at the ceiling. The head was shiny and huge.

“Should I keep the shorts off or put them back on?” he asked. I replied that Wanda would probably like to take them off for him, so he pulled them back on, slid between the sheets and lay down beside me.

“Are you ready?” he asked. Without waiting for my reply, he slid his hand down and gently grabbed my hard shaft. “I guess you are ready!” he said. He told me how much fun we were going to have, and what a big surprise this was going to be.

Then he said, “I have good news and bad news. First the bad news. Wanda drank too much before, during and after dinner. She ended up getting sick in the car on the way over here. I had to take her back to her place to sleep.”

Disappointed, I said, “What's the good news?”

“The good news is that I am still prepared to make your evening fun,” he responded. “That is, if you're up for putting a little variety in your sex life.”

While Joel was telling me this, he had begun to slide his hand up and down my stiff prick. I didn't tell Joel that I'd slept with several men in my younger days, but the fact that I didn't back away from his caress was encouragement enough for him. He began rubbing and stroking my cock with more intensity. I knew I was going to go along with whatever he wanted to do. I was just too sex-crazed at this point to stop!

Joel played with my hard-on for quite a while, rubbing it, tickling it, pumping it and holding it. He moved his head down to my crotch and began to lick every inch of my penis and balls. He teased the head until I thought I was going to explode. Finally he took my cock deep into his mouth and pumped it, stroking the shaft each time it emerged from his lips. As I approached orgasm, Joel pulled my cock out of his mouth, pumped it with his fist and licked hard on the crease on the underside of the head. When I came, it spurted out over his head! The volume of come I shot was unbelievable—it could have filled a juice glass. Joel placed my spent organ back into his mouth and gently sucked it until it was soft and drained dry.

He then asked if I had enjoyed getting the blowjob as much as he'd enjoyed giving it. I told him I certainly had. “Are you up for returning the favor?” he asked. Without hesitating, I gave him my answer—but with actions, not words. I reached down between the satin sheets and wrapped my hand around Joel's hard, hot cock. Although, as I've said, I'd been with many men when I was in college, I was young then, and nervous, and in a hurry to get those encounters over with. But I was in an entirely different frame of mind with Joel. I found the feel of his hard-on very enjoyable, and wanted to prolong the pleasure for both of us.

I pulled the sheets away so that I could see his prick and watch what I was doing to it. His penis was about the same length as mine, but a little thinner. His shaft was very light, shiny and smooth, and the head was pronounced and reddish pink in color. I moved down until I was resting my head on his stomach so that I could look at his prick while I played with it. I stroked it, pulled the skin up and down over the crown and cupped his warm balls in my hand. In short, I spent a good twenty-five minutes exploring Joel's beautiful and sexy erect penis.

Joel was loving the attention. I moved my head down on his belly so that I could stick my tongue out and touch the head of his prick. I licked a clear drop of pre-come out of the slit. It was sweet as candy. I licked the head for several minutes, working my tongue up and down the fleshy tube like it was a lollipop.

The effect of my attention was visible on Joel's face. I sensed he was approaching release, so I stuffed his fat cock between my lips and all the way into my wet mouth. I rolled my tongue around the silky-smooth head and pumped the skin of his shaft up and down. Within seconds, Joel unloaded a gusher into my mouth. I held it all in my mouth until he was finished ejaculating. Then I kissed him on the lips, sharing his load of semen with him. We caressed as we swallowed down his come. It really tasted good.

I don't know if your readers will understand this or not, but I don't really have sexual feelings for Joel, no more than I have true sexual feelings for my hand, or for the cantaloupe I jerked off into once at college. I lust after women. I love women. But I also love the feeling of having my hard cock rubbed, licked or stimulated to orgasm, and I guess it doesn't matter who's doing it. As long as I get off, that's the only important thing.

Joel and I are completely at ease with each other in the apartment. The other night I was reading
Penthouse Letters
while lying nude on the couch. I had a full erection and was not ashamed of it. Joel walked over and said, “Here, let me help you with that.” While I continued to read the magazine, he gently played with my hard-on, eventually pumping it to orgasm. I thanked him for beating me off, and he said, “You owe me one.” Believe me, I've returned the favor—and then some.—
Name and address withheld

MASSEUR TEACHES NEOPHYTE THE INS AND OUTS OF THE BUSINESS

I am a single bisexual male living in a small rural town. Although it's near to two bustling major cities, things are pretty dead around here. Nightlife is almost nonexistent, and you can't even get any action with the ladies. If anyone around here even suspected I like men, they'd probably lynch me, so I do my best to be discreet about my proclivities. Mostly all I can do is fantasize fondly about my experiences of the past.

I had my first bisexual experience several years ago in California. At the time I had recently been discharged from the military and was working nights as a bartender in a bar that attracted a mixed crowd: professionals, models, bodybuilders, bikers and so forth. I had done quite a bit of weight lifting while in the military, and even though I'm only five feet ten inches, I didn't have an ounce of fat on my one-hundred-ninety-five-pound body.

I had one customer who came in every night—sometimes two or three times a night—who was a particularly good tipper. He was young, tanned and very well built. He would order a shot of Wild Turkey on the rocks and sip it until his beeper went off, at which time he would give me a twenty-dollar bill, say “Keep the change” and leave. Naturally curiosity was killing me as to what his line of work was! I thought he must be dealing drugs or something, as he always had a lot of cash and kept very much to himself.

One night he came in for the third time just at closing time and ordered his usual. As I cleaned up and prepared to close the bar, he struck up a conversation with me for the very first time.