Letters to Penthouse XXXIV (35 page)

My wife is a high-paid executive, den mother, and PTA president. Most of the time Trisha dresses to fit these roles, but when
we’re away from home she turns into a sex machine. She loves male attention and likes to show off her assets, wearing sheer
blouses, short skirts, and high heels. She has often said she’d have made a great whore.

So when we had to go out of town last month, I asked if she’d like to actually try being a whore, or at least play at it.
She could earn money along the way! She grinned and said, “How much?” I said probably $50 to $100 each time she followed my
directions. I knew it wasn’t the money but the idea of earning it sexually that put a gleam in her eyes.

I said before we left that she was to shave her pussy and bleach her dark hair platinum blonde. I wanted my executive wife
to look and act like a cheap whore. And that’s what she did.

When we stopped at a motel, I offered Trisha $100 to let me dress her in the morning. She agreed readily. I picked out a sheer
blue blouse, a short white skirt, jet-black thigh-high stockings, and four-inch red heels. No panties or bra. Before she dressed,
I put rouge on her nipples so they could be seen more easily through her blouse. She’d already put on heavy eye shadow and
dark red lipstick for a slutty appearance.

We stopped for breakfast at a truck stop. I knew that I wouldn’t have to offer Trisha money to strut her stuff, and she didn’t
disappoint me.

As luck would have it, she had to walk past a table of four truckers to get to the ladies’ room, which she visited a few times.
Each time she passed, she flirted with the guys. I saw her nipples getting hard as they stared at her boobs through her sheer
blouse.

Back on the road, I said I’d give Trisha $25 every time that she showed her cunt to a trucker. Her eyes lit up, and she undid
her seatbelt, leaned back, and raised her feet, setting them on the dashboard. She spread her legs and hiked up her skirt
so any passing trucker could see.

After several trucks had passed, her breathing got heavy and she couldn’t keep her fingers from her pussy lips. “God, I need
a good fuck!” she whined.

A little after noon I pulled into a truck stop where a lot of big trucks were gathered. I said I’d give Trisha $50 if she’d
pick out a truck and introduce herself to the driver, another 50 if she got into the cab with him, and another 50 for each
article of clothing she removed. She gave me a passionate kiss before getting out of the car.

I watched her wander among the trucks. It took two or three before she found one with a driver. I couldn’t hear what she said,
but the next thing I knew she was climbing up into the cab. A minute later her skirt and her blouse came flying out the window.
It was awhile before she got out of the cab. One look told me she’d gotten the fuck she wanted.

After she’d told me all about fucking the trucker, I said to go find a hitchhiker to entertain her during the next stage of
our trip. That afternoon she earned as much money as she did in the morning, and had at least as much fun.

—R.T., Zanesville, Ohio
     

The doorbell rang as I checked myself in the mirror one last time. I had to admit that I was pleased with what I saw. My long
brown hair fell in soft waves around my face, which may not have been beautiful but was certainly pretty, especially my large
dark eyes. My blouse was nicely rounded over my high and otherwise unconfined breasts. My body was slim, and my stockinged
legs looked good below my short skirt. I turned sideways to look at my ass, which my ex-husband had always said was the sexiest
part of my body. He should know; he certainly made use of it enough. I felt a tingling sensation as I remembered some of the
things he had done.

But that was then, and this was now.

Satisfied with my appearance, I went to the door. On the other side of that door, I knew, was the man with whom I had first
exchanged phone numbers six or seven months ago on a local chat line. Since then we had fantasized almost daily together on
the phone, and although we had never met, I felt as if I knew every inch of him.

I opened the door, and there he stood. Six feet tall and looking swanky, with a cocky grin, long blond hair, and the most
startling blue eyes I’d ever seen.

“Hi, princess,” he said, in that sexy voice I’d come to love. I was mesmerized by him. Moments passed as I stood staring at
him, speechless. Finally, grinning at me, he said in an amused tone, “May I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, yes, please, yes, do come in!” I stuttered, blushing, and led him to my living room. Turning to put on some music,
I could feel his gaze burning into me, and I turned back, our eyes locking for a moment. He was everything I had ever dreamed
of. As I started to move past him, he reached out and pulled me into his strong arms. As he held me tight, I ran my hand up
over his shoulder and tangled my fingers in his hair. He moved one of his hands to caress my breast. Again we stared into
each other’s eyes for a moment, and then he covered my mouth with his.

As he fumbled with the buttons on my blouse I ran my hand over his crotch and lightly squeezed him there. My fingers then
found the button on his jeans, flipping it open and sliding his zipper down. I pulled away from him then so I could push his
pants to the floor. Then, wrapping my hand around his cock, I began pumping him. As he grew hard in my hand, I looked up at
him and said, “Sit, baby, I’m here to serve you.”

He sat down on the sofa and I knelt between his legs, still looking up at him. With a grin I raised my hand to my mouth and
spat on it, then wrapped it around him again and started stroking him steadily. Soon he was gasping as I watched the pleasure
wash over his face.

“Oh, yes, princess,” he panted. “That dick is yours!”

I was so excited that my pussy grew wet. I slid my other hand between my legs, sticking two fingers inside myself, rocking
back and forth on them. “God, you are my perfect fantasy,” I said, and leaning forward, I took the head of his cock in my
mouth, running my tongue around the rim, then sucking lightly. His moans echoed in my ears. I tightened my lips around his
long shaft, sliding them slowly down to the base of it. I sucked deeply, feeling his balls on my chin. My mouth tightened
as I bobbed up and down on him. When I could feel him trembling slightly I raised my mouth and asked, “Do you have a big load
for me, baby?”

“Just for you, princess,” he replied hoarsely. He stood up then, grabbing both sides of my head as he pushed his big cock
all the way down my throat, then pumped it in and out. Then suddenly he pulled back. “Here it is, princess,” he said, stroking
himself as he shot three strong, hard spurts of come across my lips, tongue, and face. Then he shoved his dick back into my
mouth and shot the rest down my throat. I sucked insatiably at him until he collapsed onto the sofa.

He pulled me up then, holding me to his chest. Both our hearts were beating wildly.

“Princess,” he said, panting, “you’re really something! You just blew my mind—not to mention the rest of me.”

I just looked up at him and smiled, feeling happy that I had made him happy.

As we lay holding each other our hearts gradually slowed, and after a few minutes I felt him stir. He kissed me tenderly as
he unbuttoned my blouse, pushing it off my shoulders. Then he unsnapped and unzipped my skirt, pulling it down until I was
clad only in a garter belt and dark silky hose. He chuckled at the revelation that I had not bothered with underwear.

Laying me down on the sofa, he stretched out over me, kissing me and massaging my breasts. He kissed my cheek and nibbled
on my earlobe. Then his mouth moved down over my shoulders to my breast, kissing my nipple. I gasped as he nibbled and sucked
on me. His hands pried my thighs apart, two fingers probing into me as I groaned in pleasure. His mouth continued down to
my belly, then farther, as his head went between my legs. With his fingers still inside me, he began licking and sucking my
clit. It took only a few minutes for me to reach my peak, my body shaking from head to toe. Digging my fingers into his hair,
I held on to it and screamed, “Oh, Christ, I’m coming!” When I finally lay still, he moved up and again stretched his lean
body on top of me. The heavy scent of sex hung in the air. His face and chest were soaked. As he covered my mouth with his,
I could feel his massive cock gently probing at my wet pussy. Tenderly but insistently he worked his way into me until I was
completely open to him. Deeper and deeper he drove into me, and I responded with the wildest passion I had ever known. We
made love for hours, our cries and moans filling the air, until at last we collapsed together in exhaustion and drifted in
a pleasant mist of afterglow.

Soon sleep overtook me, and when I awoke I could have sworn I smelled sex in the air. As I stretched lazily, bits and pieces
of that night came back to me slowly. When I realized what had transpired I rolled over and reached for the phone, hitting
the speed dial.

“Hello,” said that sexy voice I had come to love.

“Hey, baby,” I said excitedly. “I had the best dream about you last night. Can I tell you about it?”

“Why sure, princess,” he laughed huskily. “You just tell me everything.”

—O.C., Pierre, South Dakota
     

I don’t actually remember meeting Trisha; it was as though I had always known her, as though her presence was a natural occurrence
that I had prepared for on some primitive level, long ago and far away.

She was gorgeous, an absolute vision of Nubian beauty, with wild hair, a luscious mouth, prodigious breasts, and long, sturdy
legs that never failed to bring to my mind the gift located between them. Our initial conversations were innocuous, yet from
the beginning we knew there was something there. We danced around each other for months, testing the boundaries and silently
daring each other to make a move. Officially, interoffice relationships were taboo, but I knew that wouldn’t stop either of
us once I had broken through her guarded wariness, which I was thoroughly determined to do.

“Tomorrow,” she finally said, one Friday in mid-summer. “Meet me at the pool downstairs in my building. We can go for a swim.”
Those were her words, but her eyes might have inferred something else.

I flew home on wings of desire, and the next morning I managed to get in a four-mile run, despite the importuning animal lust
that had overwhelmed me during the preceding hours. There was an ulterior motive. I would arrive raunchy and disheveled at
the pool, and subsequently beg to be allowed the use of her shower—not alone, I hoped. Turning up at the pool early, I quickly
jumped in and let the water wash over me. Eventually she made her entrance into the pool area, resplendent in a tan poncho
and carrying a long-necked bottle of red wine, a good sign, I hoped. Removing the poncho, she eased down next to me clad in
a red two-piece bathing suit that did nothing to calm my lust. The sight of her enormous, half-exposed tits provoked the no-doubt-intended
reaction, and my first impulse, which I obeyed, was to swim around behind her and press my body to hers, clinging like a second
skin.

Trisha laughed. “You’re real hard,” she said as she began to undulate her amazing posterior against my thinly clad nether
region. Our liquid environment made our embrace all the more intimate, and it was all I could do to maintain my composure.

After a minute she wriggled free and turned to face me, offering me a swig of wine, which I accepted. “I still don’t know
what I’m going to do with you,” she murmured.

“Do you want me to tell you?”

She grinned at me. “Not so fast, buster. I came down here to swim.” And swim she did, propelling herself through the water
like a sexy speedboat. For a while I tried to keep up with her, mostly unsuccessfully, then gave up, resting by the side of
the pool until she tired and drifted over to me, with hardly any difficulty breathing.