Letters to Penthouse VI (41 page)

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Authors: Penthouse International

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BOOK: Letters to Penthouse VI
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HOT BAHAMA MAMA ENSURES THAT THIS MAN IS NO ISLAND

I arrived in the Bahamas on a Sunday evening. The only thing I could think about was pussy. I was looking for some of that sweet Bahamian beaver to make my vacation extra special. But after days of looking and flirting, I couldn't find a local woman who'd give me the time of day.

On Thursday I decided to write my friends back home some postcards. When I went to the post office to mail them, a surprise was awaiting me. The Bahama mama I'd been looking for all week was behind the counter. When she asked, “Can I help you?” I became speechless for a few moments. She was the most attractive woman I had ever seen. She had a perfectly shaped body, with a thin waistline, small, round buttocks, shapely legs and skin the color of milk chocolate.

She said again, “Sir, may I help you?”

I managed to pull myself out of my daydream about her and reply, “Yes, please.” I asked her for some stamps, and when she gave them to me, I handed her the money along with the telephone number of my hotel room. I thought she would have gotten offended by me being so direct, but it didn't seem to bother her. She took the money and the note, then smiled and told me to have a nice vacation.

About seven o'clock that evening the phone rang. I answered it and was pleased to hear a pleasant female voice say, “Hi, this is Kim, the woman you met in the post office today.”

I said, “It was a real pleasure to meet a woman as beautiful as you. Do you have any plans this evening? I have just one day of vacation left.”

“I have no plans tonight,” she said, “and I have tomorrow off from work too.”

I suggested that we have dinner at my hotel, and asked if she liked seafood. She said she loved it. We said good-bye, and then I called the hotel restaurant and made a reservation for two.

Kim came to the hotel at nine o'clock. Boy, was she hot! She looked good enough to eat. She had on a black biker outfit. I greeted her with a big smile and told her to make herself comfortable while I opened the wine.

I put on some nice romantic music and dimmed the lights. As we sat and talked, I felt myself becoming powerfully aroused by this beautiful woman. I took one of her perfect fingers and dipped it into my wineglass. I gently licked her finger up and down, and sucked on it as though it were a nipple. She started to smile and let out a sexy moan. I started to lick all over her tender body, and she responded with pleasure to my sensuous tongue. I knew then that we were going to miss dinner.

By now she had started to squirm around on the sofa, and began breathing rather hard. My dick was so stiff it was practically undoing my zipper all by itself! Kim wasn't one to beat around the bush. She said in a very soft voice, “Take me, honey. Plant your pleasure in my wet pussy.”

We quickly undressed each other and I carried her to the bedroom. I placed her toes in my mouth, licking and sucking each one the way I hoped to suck her clit in the moments to come. As I worked my way up her beautiful thighs, I poured some wine near her pussy and began to lap it up very slowly. I kissed her belly button and worked my way up to her breasts. She was moaning deeply from the pleasure I was giving her.

I moved back down her body and buried my tongue deep into her sweet pussy. She was feeling so good that she started to squeal. She came and came, her juices dripping down my chin like rain. My tongue was buried so deep in her pussy, she told me it was touching parts of her that had never been touched before.

“Wait until you feel what my dick can do,” I said.

“Do it now!” she begged.

I turned Kim around. She propped herself up on her elbows, lifting her ass to the level of my ten-inch dick. I guided my cock into her cunt, working in very slowly, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely in her pussy. She screamed from pleasure and then started to moan really loud. “Fuck me, fuck me,” she chanted, shoving her rump against me like a battering ram. When I came, which didn't take long, it felt as though I'd released enough jism to fill a bucket. We both fell asleep with my dick still inside her pussy. We had breakfast the next morning and then picked up where we left off the previous night. Later on that afternoon she took me to the airport. We both agreed that our short time together was the best sex of our lives. We parted at the airport with a final, long kiss.

As I started to go through the metal detector, Kim yelled out, “Hey, honey! Do you need a license to carry that big dick of yours?” We both had a good laugh about that.—
Name and address withheld

CUB REPORTER GOES BARE FOR THE DAY'S BIGGEST STORY

The news business is full of surprises, and not just the kind that wind up on the front page. At the small news service where I work in California, for example, I was more than surprised to find that my steamy romance with one reporter there would be such a source of tongue-wagging for my coworkers. I'd assumed they were all adults whose nose for news could be put to better use, but I was wrong. However, one of the women who gave us such a hard time about our affair was to provide me with the biggest surprise of all.

Molly is a young graduate of an Eastern journalism school, a bright, aggressive, hardworking reporter who I have no doubt will go far. Unfortunately, Molly also seemed to be obsessed with my recent dalliance with Elise, another reporter at the bureau. Elise is beautiful, sexy, hot-blooded … you name it. But Molly herself projects an astonishing sexuality. She's a tall, slender, ivory-skinned brunette who has a great sense of humor and exudes a cocky attitude that suggests she's used to getting what she wants. When she was first hired, she was politely flirtatious with me, peppering our conversations with indelicate innuendoes, and I was pleased to see such a dirty mind on someone almost a dozen years my junior.

One morning at about five o'clock, as Elise and I were fucking in her bed, the phone rang and Elise picked it up. It was Molly, at the office. Several propane tanks had exploded near a marina. Molly wanted me to get on the story at once. The only catch was that I'd have to stop by the office first to pick up the cellular phone, in order to relay stories to her from the scene. I said good-bye to the beautiful, naked Elise, patted my erection woefully and got dressed for work.

When I got to the office, Molly was sitting across the desk from mine, smiling and leaning back in her swivel chair with her feet spread apart up on the desk. Her shoes were off, and her runner's legs went on for about a mile before disappearing into a black velvet skirt. Her burgundy blouse was unbuttoned between her breasts. It was extremely warm in there. Or maybe it was just Molly.

“Where's the cellular phone?” I asked. She just smiled at me. “You're an experienced reporter,” she said. “You'll have to find it.” She tossed her head back and spread apart her legs. I knew the phone wasn't in there, but I sure wanted to look. It appeared the young reporter wasn't wearing panties.

“Look,” I said, straining to be serious even though I felt the stirrings of an erection. “I'm not in the mood for games. Where's the phone?”

She shrugged and spread her legs even wider, hiking her skirt up over her lean hips and revealing the unmistakable pattern of a pubic bush.

“Maybe there isn't a phone,” she said. “Maybe there isn't even a fire. Not where you think, anyway.”

I felt myself blush slightly. “Journalism ain't what it used to be,” I said as I began to walk toward her, my hard cock about to split my jeans.

“Maybe I just want to see what that pretty little Elise sees in you. Maybe I want to see it in me for a change,” Molly said, sliding a hand under her skirt and fiddling with her pussy. She then leaned forward and took hold of my tie, pulling me to her and burying my face in her sopping pussy. I felt her intoxicating wetness on my lips and nose.

“Hurry, we're on deadline,” Molly cooed as I curled my arms around her thighs and parted her succulent folds with my tongue.

“You mean there really is a fire?” I managed to ask.

“Like I said, we have to hurry. Wouldn't want to miss a good story, would we?” she laughed.

I submerged myself in her, munching her delicious rosebud with all the energy and vigor I could summon—and I had a lot of both. I thrust my hungry tongue inside her, then jiggled it against her throbbing clit, every so often swallowing a mouthful of her dripping honey. Meanwhile, my hungry cock bulged against my jeans. And then—you guessed it—the phone rang. I should've remembered that the phones always ring at the wrong time in a news office.

Worse yet, it was Elise, calling from the scene of the fire. She'd taken it upon herself to go there on her own. Molly, while quietly humping my face, commended Elise for her journalistic enterprise. As Molly pulled my lips harder against her, Elise asked her why I wasn't at the fire. Molly replied, “I changed his assignment. He's doing some … inside work on the story. Working the, uh, phones.” She was flustered and out of breath—after all, I had two fingers up her twat and my tongue was dancing against her clitoris—and said to Elise, “He's right here. Should I put him on?” She smiled and handed me the phone.

Elise was pretty excited about going out on the story. She told me it looked like the whole marina was going to be destroyed, and an apartment building next to it might also catch fire. She asked me if I could take some dictation from her, because she hated to talk with Molly. I positioned myself in front of a computer terminal. As Elise's first adrenaline-flushed words filled my ear, I felt Molly's hand pull at the button fly of my jeans. The dripping tip of my firecracker-red cock sprang free. Molly greeted it with a giggle, followed by several lingering licks up the shaft.

If you ever have the opportunity, I recommend getting sucked off by a sex-starved cub reporter while you type out a story being dictated over the phone by your girlfriend. Of the many thrills I've had in my fifteen years in the news business, none has been as exquisite as taking in Elise's first dispatch while Molly went down on me as if both of our lives depended on it. I was typing and fucking her mouth at the same time! I'm sure my spelling was off, but we have proofreaders for that. Apparently Molly'd learned a lot more at journalism school besides the theory of the triangle lead.

With one hand cupping my balls, she ran her mouth up my prick as though it were a cob of hot buttered corn. She then closed her eyes and put the entire head in her mouth. I watched her large, dark-red lips move up and down my cock, while inside her mouth her tongue polished my cockhead with dozens of quick, hot lashes. Unfortunately this is where it became especially difficult to type, and also where I began to moan. Over the phone, Elise asked me if I was feeling all right, and I told her I was just yawning. Molly's brunette tresses splashed around my belly button as I typed with her head in my lap.

All of a sudden Molly got even more playful and rocked me way back in my chair forcing me to extend my arms to their limits in order to type in Elise's report. Just as Elise was finishing up, Molly began to suck my balls.

“Oh … shit!” I exclaimed in ecstasy.

“What was that?” Elise asked.

“Um … nothing. I just, um, hit the wrong key,” I said. I realized it was a pretty stupid thing to say, while at the same time realizing it would be only a matter of minutes until I flooded Molly's mouth with jizz. She moved her mouth back to my cock and took several zesty slurps on it, taking in all seven hard inches, until her nose was pressing into my pubic hair.

Thankfully, Elise finished dictating her story, and I finished typing. She said good-bye to me and hung up to return to her work. At that point my balls were groaning, demanding release, and my cock was as engorged and tingling as it had ever been. Molly was obviously no stranger to this sort of thing. She returned to my balls with her teeth and lips, pulling on my sac and stroking me vigorously. Think whatever you want to about declining standards in the news business, but take it from me—the talent is still there.

Suddenly, however, we heard the elevator door open down the hall. I couldn't believe it—someone was coming! In a panic, Molly pulled away from me just as I came. My come erupted in wild spurts that shot high in the air and descended like large blobs of hail.

“Who can it be?” I gasped.

Molly's cheeks were flushed with alarm as we frenziedly wiped my jism off the pile of press releases. “I forgot,” she said. “Russell said he was coming in early today. That's probably him now.”

She pulled down her skirt, buttoned her blouse and began to search for her sandals. I didn't know where to go. The supply room down the hall seemed to be the best bet so, stuffing my slippery, still-erect cock into my jeans, I limped to the supply room and closed the door behind me. In a few seconds I heard Russell enter the office.

He and Molly exchanged greetings, and I heard him inquire about the fire. She told him Elise and I were at the scene, and he granted approvingly. I wondered how I was going to get out of there. Russell was one of the biggest office gossips, and I feared he'd really enjoy being the one to tell Elise that instead of covering the fire, I'd been covering Molly's tongue with my sperm.

It was Russell himself who saved the day for both of us by going out for some coffee. I heard the door close behind him.

I walked out with my head spinning. “You'd better go interview the fire chief, and fast,” Molly said. From her desk drawer she produced the cellular phone that had, in a way, started this whole thing.

I walked quickly toward the door. “Listen,” I said to Molly. “This is between us, right?”

“Don't worry,” she said. “One of the first things we learned in school was always to remain true to your confidential informants.”

Like I said, news can be a surprising business, and sometimes the best stories don't even get in the paper.—
Name and address withheld

WHY JUST COVET THY NEIGHBOR'S WIFE? GO AHEAD AND DO HER

I'm twenty-two years old and married to a beautiful woman. This story isn't about my wife, but about Vickie, her longtime friend. Vickie is also married. I'd always dreamed of getting inside her pants, but never thought it would happen.

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