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Letters to Penthouse XXXIV (21 page)

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—Name and address withheld
     

He Just Wanted to See What She Wore, but He Saw a Lot More

I knew Jan was married, but she was a hell of a dish, and she didn’t seem to mind carrying on a certain flirtatious banter
with me via interoffice e-mail. During our last exchange I had asked her whether she ever wore thongs, and she had replied
with, “Wouldn’t you just love to know?” Damn right I would.

On Friday I wandered over to her cubicle with the object of engaging her in some idle chitchat, but her desk was unoccupied.
She was taking a day off, and I suddenly remembered her saying how she needed to start working on her tan. Deciding to take
a chance, I took the rest of the day off, too, and headed for Jan’s house.

I knew where it was from a party I had attended there the previous winter. It was located in a new housing development, and
on the lot behind it there was a stand of trees slated to be cleared for more housing. I parked a block away and walked over
a small hill and into the trees, to find myself about 50 yards from the deck at the back of Jan’s house.

This had to be my lucky day, because just as I settled down beside a large tree, the back door opened and out walked the woman
of my dreams in a minuscule pink string bikini, with small bows at the neck and on each hip. I figured that qualified as a
thong, all right. Bingo! The truth had been revealed. But it turned out that that was only the start of this afternoon delight.

Jan sat down in a lounge chair and began to sip at the drink she had brought out with her. A minute later the door opened
again, and out walked a naked man with a hard-on, who I took to be her husband, Sean. His dick was at least eight inches long,
and fully aroused. He walked straight over to Jan and straddled her chair. She took him in her mouth without any foreplay
and went to work. He was too large for her to take all of him, and when he got carried away and started fucking her mouth,
she had pulled back to avoid choking. As she did so his dick popped out, glistening in the sun. It seemed to have grown another
inch just from the blowjob.

She smiled at him as he pulled her up off the chair and untied the strings of her thong. As it dropped to the deck he bent
her over the deck rail and moved to take her from behind. If she had looked up, she might well have seen me watching her getting
nailed by her husband’s monster cock. But she was already lost in the pleasure of that hot dick in her squirming hole. As
she pushed up from the deck rail, I could see that he was now achieving maximum penetration, his huge balls slapping against
her belly with every forward thrust.

Even more impressive, though, were Jan’s breasts. They had been hard to judge in the business outfits she usually wore in
the office. But now they were revealed in their true glory. Large, but firm, and not at all floppy. They did not swing around
wildly under her husband’s onslaught, but simply shuddered erotically, her nipples sticking straight out and as hard as pebbles.

After a while I heard a loud shriek from Jan and a groan from Sean as they both stiffened and climaxed. After he removed himself
from her, Jan stood up and brushed her hair back from her face. As she stood with her legs spread apart I trained my binoculars
between her thighs (did I mention I had brought along my binoculars?) and was treated to the sight of Sean’s come oozing out
of her love hole and running down the insides of her legs in a steady stream. A moment later she dove into the pool, apparently
her way of cleaning herself up.

A few minutes later Sean came out again, grinning. “I just invited Bonnie to come over,” he told her. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Bonnie? Oh, that will be great!” Jan said, smiling back at him.

Soon after that the doorbell rang. “That should be her now,” Sean said. He went inside, and a minute later came back with
a young girl who I presumed to be Bonnie. She was five-feet-five or -six, with long blonde hair, and she was wearing a flight
attendant’s uniform. Jan pulled herself out of the pool and, still naked, went over and kissed Bonnie on the lips.

Their conversation became lost in the wind, but what was not lost was the sight of Jan carefully removing Bonnie’s uniform,
being careful not to drip on it. Her black bra and panties were the last to go, and soon both women were in the pool, laughing
and occasionally touching. As the laughter became less frequent and the touching more so, Sean came over and sat on the edge
of the pool. He was sporting another monster hard-on, which he began to stroke as the girls started kissing each other, locked
in a tight embrace, their tits pressed together.

When they came up for air and saw poor Sean trying to handle things on his own, they decided to help out. They started by
taking turns giving him some mouth action, but Bonnie soon took over on her own, her head bobbing up and down on his dick
while Jan rubbed his balls to encourage him to come in her friend’s mouth.

But Sean had other ideas. “I want to fuck you both, and come in both of you, too,” he told them. With that he jumped into
the pool—it was the shallow end—and stood the girls next to each other, facing away from him and bending over the pool’s edge.
He then began to fuck them, alternating between them and giving each of them a dozen or so strokes before switching to the
other one. Both of them seemed to be enjoying this treatment, each of them moaning with pleasure as he pounded into them,
and giving a whimper of disappointment when he switched over.

I trained my binoculars on them to get a better look at their expressions. It seemed as though Bonnie was about ready to come,
but Jan needed a bit more action, so Sean concentrated on her. When he came back to Bonnie, she came with his first thrust.
Sean’s body stiffened, pushing Bonnie hard against the side of the pool as he released his first ejaculation. Fighting the
strongest instinct known to man, he then pulled himself out of Bonnie’s cunt, just as a second spurt of come shot out, landing
on her right buttock. With a loud grunt he hastily plunged himself into Jan, gasping as he released his final shots and bringing
her off with him. Both girls turned and smiled in admiration at Sean as he floated off into the pool to recuperate.

At that point I figured I might as well split before my luck ran out. Now I’m wondering what it will be like on Monday when
I see Jan at the office. I wonder if I should tell her that I now know the truth about whether she wears thongs—and about
so much more . . .

—V.L., Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
     

Just ’Cause the Lights Go Out Doesn’t Mean They Can’t Get It Done

You can believe it or not, and I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t. It was just one of those rare times in your life when a
woman you hardly know shows up in knee-high fishnet stockings, then pulls out a brand-new can of whipped cream right before
she goes to town on your already-hard cock. You know, the kind of moment you spend your life hoping and praying for.

Anyway, before I can say the word fuck, the power goes out! I’m left with my balls hanging out while my hardened hammer gets
a dose of pleasurable deep-throating. I just don’t get to see the action. But I just know she’s eyeballing me in the dark,
still looking up at me like she was—looking for a nod of approval—right as the lights went out. A little blackout is nothing
to prevent this hottie from sucking me wild while sliding one hand up and down my legs and ass and clamping the other to my
surging manhood. Even in the dark she gives it her oral all, her maximum effort to bring me to the point of blowing my foamy
white pride all over her face.

However, with great effort of my own I refrain from exploding all over her face (and God knows what else I would hit in the
dark). Instead, I slide my arm under her and lift her up gently by her already-moist snatch. This way my hand is already in
position to massage her with two fingers poised over her inner sanctum while keeping the clit snug between those fingers and
easing entry since her vaginal walls are already getting damp. With my free hand I feel for the perky tits that seized my
attention trying to break through her tight pink half-shirt when she walked in. If the image burned into my skull of a hot
chick in a tight pink half-shirt, black mini, and fishnet stockings isn’t enough to keep me hard, she sucks my earlobe and
licks inside the ear, forcing me to pick her up with both hands and throw her on my now-steel-like cock, while I’m still standing.
Thanks to her petite size it’s no problem for me to flog her repeatedly as she rides me midair. I just have to crouch slightly
to keep my balance while I pummel her—or is it vice versa?

The whipped cream never had a chance; I was now ready to spooge more than that can of whipped cream could deliver, but I just
didn’t want it to end.

Novice that I am, I pull out minutes later and cream all over her perky little A cups, and keep coming until I almost can’t
feel my feet. Happily the whipped cream isn’t wasted. She sprays it all over herself where my jism landed, to make a “semen
sundae.”

Suddenly the power came back on, and my mom got home from work to find us lying buck naked, with semen caked all over the
coffee table and her favorite vase. Yeah, I got yelled at, but at that point do you think I cared?


G.S., Medicine Hat, Alberta
     

Smart Coaching Can Turn a Sex-Deprived Woman Into a Tigress

After 25-plus years of marriage with infrequent and boring sex, my husband left me. I was devastated, and spent years where
I had sex maybe once a year with a new guy. Since my husband and I remained “friends” (he moved from Los Angeles to nearby
San Diego), I kept hoping for a reconciliation.

About 18 months ago our daughter got married. After the ceremony my ex told me all I needed to snap me out of my funk was
a good fucking. I said I had no lover and sex was pretty rare. He suggested I grab a groomsman and show him a good time. I
noted that men still didn’t seem to have such a good time with me.

Before the night was over he offered to help me find my sexuality. He suggested I come for a visit, and he’d work with me
to improve my sexual skills—but only if I agreed to do everything he asked. Needing sex, and still harboring hope of reconciliation,
I agreed. As I’m in real estate, I do most of my business on weekends, so it’s often possible to get away during the week.
The next morning I made plans to travel to San Diego on Tuesday night, giving me all day Wednesday and Thursday. I had to
be back by noon Friday.

I waited till Monday to call my ex and say I was taking the train down the next night and asked him to meet me. He agreed
readily and said for me to douche before I left.

I couldn’t sleep Monday night and was a bundle of nerves all the way down. My ex was at the station and picked me up in his
arms and held me for the first time in years. It felt good. We went to his house and talked. Then he reminded me I had to
do whatever he asked or he couldn’t help.

He said to get naked, and I did it in a heartbeat. He asked if I’d douched, and I said yes. He took me to the bedroom and
undressed. I wanted him so bad, I almost started coming. But when I tried to get him to get on top of me, he reminded me who
was in charge. He ran his hands over my pussy, inserted a finger and then another. It felt fabulous. He bent down and kissed
and licked my pussy. I never liked him doing this before, I guess because, douching rarely, I felt unclean. Now I lay back
and enjoyed, and he brought me to climax.

BOOK: Letters to Penthouse XXXIV
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