Letters to Penthouse XI (6 page)

I shook my head as I reached for the album, but she still held on to it.

“Wait,” she said. “There's more.”

“More?” I said. I had to restrain myself from just grabbing the album.

“There's somebody else in some of the pictures,” she said, watching my reaction closely. What she saw was a shit-eating grin and eyeballs popping out of my head. “His name is Lance. He's an assistant of Marty's and a male model. Stu, you've always claimed you're not the jealous type. These pictures will put you to the test. They show us naked, fooling around, in all kinds of suggestive poses. Sure you can handle it?”

My dick was actually throbbing as I nodded. Marilyn finally handed me the album. The first pictures were of Marilyn in lingerie like I'd never seen her wear. Every square inch of her luscious body was exposed. There was even a close-up of her cunt with her pulling her pussy lips apart with her fingers.

Then I got to the pictures with Lance, a tall, well-built, dark-skinned black man. The pictures started out with him in a tux and her in a short white dress. She wore a pearl necklace, matching earrings and white spiked heels. Their dancing poses turned to undressing and suggestive poses. I almost came in my pants when I saw my wife bent over backward in Lance's arms, her strapless dress off her breasts, his tongue touching one of her erect nipples.

There was one of Lance, his coat off, shirt open, trousers at his knees. Marilyn was curtsied in front of him. His huge black cock stood out. Her dainty hand held it, and her open mouth was only an inch from the big head. Next there was Marilyn, dress bunched around her waist, lying on a circular bed with Lance hunched over her, his tongue practically touching her exposed cunt.

I groaned when I saw the next ones. Lance had his trousers down to his knees. Marilyn's dress was around her waist. Her legs were around his body and her hands held onto his shoulders. His hands cupped her bare hips and their groins were pressed together. He had a look of intense pleasure. She had her head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth hanging open. My groan was not from displeasure. I was about to climax.

The last pictures showed them on the round bed. In the next-to-last, Marilyn's legs were around Lance's, her head tilted back, chin up, eyes closed, mouth open, with a look of ecstasy. His grimace expressed sexual release. The final picture showed him on his back, my wife lying facedown on him, her legs splayed outside his. His hands lay clasped on her sexy butt. His eyes were closed, and as her head faced the camera, you saw that hers were too. They fully looked the part of sleeping lovers locked together in the sleep of the erotically exhausted.

I sighed, let the album fall to my lap, and leaned my head back. I closed my eyes and smiled dreamily. Like the two sleeping lovers, I needed to recover. I had come in my pants, without even touching myself. It's too bad my wife insists nobody else ever see the pictures. They are the most erotic things I have ever seen. Marilyn lay down on her side looking at me as I lay on my back.

Looking at the wet spot on the front of my trousers, she smiled and said, “I take that as a sign that those pictures didn't upset you.”

“Upset?” I murmured. “Those pictures are incredible. How could I be upset?”

Marilyn's finger drew little figures on my chest as she replied, “Well, you may be when I tell you the rest. I've got to tell you everything that happened, though.”

I looked at her and said, “I don't know what else you have to show me or tell me, but I want to hear every detail about what happened. Don't leave out anything. I promise you that nothing you could tell me now would upset me.”

Marilyn smiled and said softly, “I just hope you'll still say that after you hear the rest of the story.”

She began by talking about the incredibly sexy outfits. She'd bought them back in October when she made her first appointment. She'd gone to Victoria's Secret to find something sexy and naughty to wear. She got caught up in the mood and picked out things far more daring than she had ever worn or thought she would ever wear. Once home, she couldn't bring herself to wear them in front of a man taking pictures of her. She was too self-conscious to even wear them for me, and stuffed them in the back of a lingerie drawer. Then she canceled the first appointment.

When she got up the courage to reschedule, only to cancel the second appointment because of her period, she nearly did not reschedule. But she did, and by the time the day came, she was actually looking forward to it. As the time neared, she was in a very sexy mood. As she prepared to leave for the studio, she thought about the naughty nighties. She got them out, held them in front of her and looked in the mirror. Her panties became damp with her sexual arousal.

By the time Marilyn got to the studio some of her self-consciousness had returned, but Marty helped her relax. He poured her some wine and asked her to show him what outfits she had brought. She blushed and stammered when he saw the new ones. She made it clear she would not actually wear any of those for the shoot.

Marty, in professional fashion, merely shrugged and said, “That's a shame—I know Stu would love you in those.”

After another glass of wine Marilyn was relaxed enough to begin the shoot. The first session was straightforward. She wore a one-piece and a two-piece swimsuit, a couple of nightgowns and a short pleated skirt she would flip up to show her panties. After a bit she was really getting into it. By the time it was done, she was feeling sexy, carefree and pretty uninhibited.

As she sipped her fourth glass of wine, Marty asked if she wanted to try a few photos with the outfits left in her bag. He said he would put them in a separate album. She could give them to me if she liked, or keep them, or even throw them away. As with the other pictures, he would keep no negatives and she would have the only copies.

Light-headed and feeling very sexy, she replied, “Sure, why not?”

As Marty kept clicking away, Marilyn found herself getting very turned on. Soon she was showing her boobs, her butt, even her pussy. She did things she would never have expected. When she saw Lance watching her as she dipped her fingers in her pussy, she just gazed back at him and gave him a sexy smile. When that session was over, she felt giddy, naughty and very, very sexy.

Marty asked if she wanted to shoot one more series, with Lance. He said his assistant modeled part-time.

Marilyn looked at Lance's handsome face and virile physique, then giggled and said, “I can see why!”

Marty said the photos would simulate sex—no actual sex, of course! She was in a frame of mind to do just that.

“Sure!” she replied.

She put on the dress, with no panties or bra, while Lance put on his tux, with no underwear. When they began posing as dancers she felt what had to be an enormous erection pressed against her belly, which got her hotter than ever. When he put his mouth to her crotch, his tongue never touched her, but she felt his hot breath on her cunt and almost exploded. When she gripped his monstrous cock, she had to restrain herself from wrapping her mouth around it.

Then came the scene where he was standing and she was appended to his body. He adjusted his prick to where it would actually be below her pussy, cradled in the crack of her ass when she mashed her groin against his. By that time, though, her pussy was so hot that she reached down and pushed his cockhead against her pussy lips, then thrust her groin against his. The breath whooshed out of her lungs as all nine inches of his cock went up her cunt.

By then Lance was in desperate need too. He hunched at her as she worked her cunt up and down on his prick. Marty clicked away a mile a minute at the copulating couple before him. Lance walked her over to the bed and set her down on her back. Marty kept clicking, but by then they were totally oblivious to him. They were just plain fucking, a fast, furious, frantic fuck.

As Marilyn described it, I looked at the last photographs again. Beads of perspiration were visible on both of their bodies. The picture of the two of them climaxing was not fake. Marilyn said Marty caught her look of blissful climax just as Lance came. When she climaxed, she felt him pulse in her and her pussy flooded with hot wetness. Marty selected the best picture of them coming together and destroyed the rest.

The last picture, of her resting on top of Lance, was of them in afterglow. She said she slept for a few minutes on top of Lance. Then the men covered her and let her sleep for over an hour. When she woke up, they drove her home.

I was rock-hard hearing my wife tell the tale of her adulterous photo session. I looked at the pictures of Lance fucking her and wanted to make love to her. I realize many people may not understand, but her pictures, what she did—it all turns me on more than I can express.

Marilyn doesn't want anyone else to see the pictures, which I think is too bad because they are incredible! She said she didn't mind if I wrote and shared our story with
Penthouse Letters,
so I guess we'll all have to be satisfied with this much.—
S.K., Raleigh, North Carolina

HER HUBBY'S PAL IS A HUNK, BUT SHE LIKES HIS GIRLFRIEND BETTER

My husband and I have been married for about three years. I never thought that I would have any secrets from him, or that I would ever have an experience that could end up in your magazine.

I am twenty-eight, and have worked pretty hard at keeping in shape. My breasts, while smaller than average, seem to fit my athletic body, and I've had no complaints. My husband is twenty-nine and also in great shape. Like most husbands, one of Brian's favorite fantasies is to see me with another woman. It comes up from time to time, and while I indulge him with talk in the heat of our passion, I really have no interest in being with another woman. At least that's what I always thought.

Brian's best friend, Walt, has been single forever, and has always had good luck with the ladies. I've often been a little jealous when they go out together, but I trust Brian, and I try to keep him so satisfied at home that he would have no need to look elsewhere.

Late last summer Walt invited us over for a barbecue. We barely knew his relatively new girlfriend, Renée. She was twenty-three, and as expected had a great body. She was also friendly, confident and a lot of fun. Through the evening we downed a couple of bottles of wine, and were feeling pretty good. We headed for the hot tub, nicely secluded in the corner of Walt's deck. Walt, of course, suggested that we all lose our suits, but I wasn't that drunk.

Once in the tub we continued to talk and laugh and drink, and before long Walt was kissing Renée's neck. She was having a hard time carrying on a conversation, and finally just gave up and gave Walt a long, hard kiss on the mouth. This amorous behavior and the wine were also having an effect on me. Soon Brian and I too were necking like teenagers. I was getting pretty hot, but I was still too modest to forget that there was another couple three feet away.

However, the sounds from Walt and Renée were becoming too interesting to ignore. Brian was kissing me and letting his hands roam, but I opened my eyes just a little to peek. I watched fascinated as Walt undid Renée's bikini top and let it fall. He then kissed his way down her neck and licked her nipples. Her breasts were larger than mine, and very firm, with nipples that pointed slightly upward. I could see why Walt was getting so excited, and I was surprised that it was having an effect on me.

The next thing I knew, Walt's swimsuit was beside the tub along with Renée's bikini bottom. He continued kissing down her body and gently lifted her and set her down on his lap, impaling her on his erection. As she slid down on him I imagined how it felt. Before long she was riding him for all he was worth, and between the two of them I thought they would wake the whole neighborhood. I continued watching, mesmerized. Suddenly Renée and I had eye contact, and I froze.

Fortunately she was too far gone to care, and just smiled a satisfied smile. Brian, meanwhile, had gotten my top off while I was preoccupied with my voyeurism. He began massaging my hard nipples. He was not oblivious to what was going on, and tugged at my bathing-suit bottom. I didn't feel comfortable, right there in front of them, so I whispered that we should leave them alone to finish. We grabbed our towels and headed for the guest room.

Brian's towel did little to conceal his excitement, and once in the room we were all over each other. It didn't take long for both of us to reach crushing orgasms. We were way too drunk to go home, so we stayed the night, though we didn't get much sleep!

The next morning Walt and Brian acted macho, talking about football and not saying a word about the night before. Renée acted like it was no big deal.

After breakfast we were alone in the kitchen. She said, “I hope you didn't feel uncomfortable last night. I've never done that before, you know, in front of anyone, but somehow I must have felt comfortable with you guys. Plus Walt just knows how to get me going.”

I told her it was no big deal and that it wasn't like we thought they always did that. It just so happened that we were right there. She was great about it, and somehow it didn't seem all that weird.

Anyway, Brian and I had several great sessions over the next few weeks thinking about that experience. About three weeks later, Walt invited us over again, this time mostly for him and Brian to watch a fight on Pay-Per-View.

We arrived early and had a nice dinner. Again the wine flowed. After dinner, Walt checked the preliminary fights. As they were all running longer than expected, there was time to hit the hot tub.

I got up and said, “I'll go change.”

“Don't bother,” Renée said. “I mean, we're all adults, and after last month, I don't think we have any secrets.”

So it was agreed. I still hid behind my towel as I slid out of my clothes and into the hot tub. We were a little more nervous this time, so we broke out a bottle of champagne. Soon I was feeling no pain, and being naked in front of our friends didn't bother me in the least. Feeling frisky, I started kissing Brian on his neck. Then we were kissing again, and a peek at Walt and Renée showed them getting into it too.