Letters to Penthouse XXXII

by Penthouse International

  He stroked my pussy one final time, then lifted me off him to roll me onto my back and guide his dick inside me. I immediately clamped down around him, smiling up at my master and lover as he fucked me as hard as I’d craved. As his cock slammed in and out of me, I felt the remaining warmth from my ass adding to the fiery feeling in my cunt, making my orgasm that much more powerful. He pulled out and came all over my chest and stomach, and I smeared his sticky cream into my skin. Then, to prove that I really had been paying attention, I poured him a big glass of milk and made sure to put the carton right back where I’d found it in the refrigerator.

  The next level of punishment involves being spanked with a small slapper, a tiny paddle that brings more noise than power to its smacks—but that doesn’t stop my heart from racing with excitement when I hear him tapping it against his palm. The other day, I forgot to make a reservation at our favorite Italian restaurant, and we weren’t able to get in. He was pretty pissed about that, even though we found another perfectly acceptable place to get our fettucine Alfredo. As we ate, he kept staring at me, making the meal a form of foreplay as I squirmed in anticipation and nervousness. I trust Brendan completely, otherwise I’d never have agreed to become his slave, but I still feel a slight chill when I know I’ve displeased him.

  During our meal, he slyly opened up his suit jacket, and there, staring back at me, was the little leather paddle, with its shiny black patent leather handle temptingly poking out of his pocket.

  I blushed as red as the strawberries sitting on my plate, and my body leaned forward involuntarily, as if to get closer to the paddle. “Not yet,” he said, amused at how eager I was. I sullenly ate my dessert, hardly tasting the sweet fruit and cream as I salivated over what was to come. As we drove home, he took out the slapper and held it in his right hand, letting it brush against my thigh and then linger between my legs when we were at a red light.

  Needless to say, by the time we walked in the door, I was absolutely dripping. One of the things Brendan likes to do with this toy is slap it against my ass—and then slap it against my pussy! He does it lightly enough that I feel just the briefest sting as a deep ache forms inside me and my arousal grows. That night he alternated between my hot spots, wringing all the sensations out of me that he could with such a tiny toy. “You. Will. Make. The. Reservations. I. Ask. You. To.” Brendan emphasized each staccato-spoken word with a strong spank to my ass, followed by one to my pussy. The toy was soaking wet from my cunt’s juices by the time he was done, and for this particular offense, instead of him getting me off, he had me suck his cock until he came. I was allowed to bring myself to orgasm only after I’d swallowed every drop of his hot semen.

  When I’ve really messed up, I get the wooden paddle. This is rarer, because I don’t often misbehave enough—but I do when I really crave it. The wooden paddle is a fierce toy, its pretty, polished wood not belying the way it connects with my skin. He’s only spanked me with it three times before. The last time he used it on me, I’d deliberately disobeyed him, choosing red wallpaper, instead of blue, for our den. I knew this would lead to his taking the wood to my ass, but I really felt that the red was the better choice. Plus, as stern and unyielding as the wood can be, a spanking with it is always thoroughly satisfying.

  I watched as the red wallpaper went up, already admiring our new décor—and knowing that my ass would soon match it! When Brendan got home, I greeted him at the front door with his favorite drink, scotch on the rocks, while dressed in a silky, see-through pink nightie and barely there thong, but he wasn’t fooled. “Jessica, what have you done this time? I know that look, and it’s one of a girl who deserves a spanking.”

  I knew I was supposed to look contrite, but I couldn’t help but grin at the prospect of him getting his hands—or something else—on my ass. “Well… you’ll see,” I said, walking ahead of him so he could see my ass with the nightie brushing against its curves. The minute he saw the bright new wallpaper, he began to shout.

  “Stop right there! You know we agreed on blue. I knew I should have stayed home and supervised. I just knew it. Girl, you are going to get it!” he said, getting into character. “Go upstairs and wait for me on the bed.”

  I skipped up to our bedroom, not really feeling all that sorry. If he really wanted to punish me, he’d forgo any spanking altogether, but he wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of my needy behind. I splayed myself facedown across the bed, my hands dutifully tucked underneath my head—I had a feeling he didn’t want me touching myself. I heard him marching up the steps, and my pussy tightened with anticipation. After entering the bedroom, he slipped a cushioned blindfold over my eyes, and that’s when I knew he was really serious.

  “Now, Jess, I’m going to have to really give it to you good today, because this wasn’t an accident or something you forgot to do—you knew what we’d agreed on and just didn’t like it. You were an insolent brat and now are going to get treated like one. I want you to count for me—to twenty.” And then the first blow landed. He was using the wooden paddle! The long, slim, shiny toy struck both ass cheeks at once. When he’d bought it, he’d picked that one over a tiny heart-shaped wooden paddle, knowing this one would make a bigger impression.

  “One,” I said, basking in the glorious sensation that seemed to live on even after the wood had left my skin. With the thong pressing against my cunt lips, I craved all twenty of those whacks. I clamped my butt cheeks together as I readied myself for the next blow. “Two,” I said as my twin globes throbbed with heat. He kept on going, and at ten, he tugged up the tiny thong so it further bisected my slit. I moaned, then bit my lower lip, shivering as he delivered the final half of my punishment with long, uneven pauses in between, so I didn’t know when the next delicious smack was going to come.

  He dropped the paddle and began rubbing my cheeks with his hands. “You know, I may have underestimated you. That red wallpaper will go very nicely with the way your ass looks right now—and vice versa. Maybe I can display your bright-red butt the next time we have company.” I know he was only joking, because spanking is a private affair for us, but the very idea of having our friends see the way he makes my ass so rosy had me practically coming. All it took was three assured strokes of his cock and I was a complete goner, letting out a cry of pleasure as I gushed around his dick. He came, too, spurting a copious load deep inside me moments later.

  Our final toy hangs on the closet wall next to the others, and he’s yet to use it on me. It’s a shiny aluminum paddle that I sometimes use as a mirror to check my lipstick. I often run my fingers along its cool surface and wonder what it would feel like spanking my ass. The thought makes me cream, and if and when the day comes that I want to try it, I’m sure I can think of a “crime” that will warrant such a powerful punishment. That’s the beauty of our relationship—we have the perfect level of give and take, pain and pleasure, punishment and reward. For us, they are often one and the same.

  —Ms. Jessica V., Austin, Texas

  His Old Neckties Come in Handy When She Wants to Tie Him Up

  My husband, Tim, and I were packing up to move to a smaller house, getting rid of anything we no longer needed. I had climbed up on a stool to reach the boxes in the upper reaches of our closet and found a whole stack of his neckties. They were from his former corporate days, before we started our own business and could wear whatever we wanted. I set the ties aside for the giveaway pile as I continued to rid the closet of junk. As I unearthed things I’d completely forgotten about, I suddenly realized that those ties might come in handy. I hid them away, hoping to surprise Tim later.

  When he returned from his errands, I had the entire closet cleared out. I proudly showed him my handiwork. “I think I deserve a reward for all that hard work, don’t you?” I asked, stepping closer to him and slipping my leg between his, then raising my knee so it brushed against his cock. Clearly, this wasn’t what he was expecting, but it didn’t take long for his cock to harden. I reached down to stroke his dick, m
assaging it to its full stiffness.

  “Will you be my reward?” I asked my gorgeous husband in my most alluring voice, raising the pitch as I worked my thumb over his cockhead.

  “Yes, baby, yes,” he groaned as I slid the zipper down.

  “If you really want it, then put your hands behind your back,” I said as my fingers came into direct contact with his cock. He made more moaning and groaning noises as he positioned his wrists behind him. I slid one of the ties from my pocket and slipped it around his wrists, then quickly fastened it. His breathing suddenly became erratic and I knew that he was totally turned on. We’d done some light bondage before, but always at his request; I’d never been the one to initiate our bondage play.

  Once I had his wrists secured behind his back, I walked around in front of him, staring down as his cock poked forward through the front of his pants. “What are we going to do with this?” I asked, taking hold of him once again.

  I found my pussy getting wetter and wetter as I teased him, knowing that he’d have to do whatever I said. I was in control of his cock and could play with it as much—or as little—as I wanted. If I so desired, I could strip down to nothing and masturbate in front of him, taking my time as I spread open my labia, showing him how juicy I’d become, without letting him touch me. I gave him my best sultry pout, then lifted my white tank top over my head. I tossed it at him, and it landed on his cock. He made a strangled noise and I continued to undress, tossing the garments at him.

  When I was totally nude, I stepped forward, taking my panties, which had landed on his shoulder, and rubbing them against his cheek. I pressed my body up against him, raising myself on my toes so I could brush my pussy against his cock. “I want you, Darlene,” he said as his cock twitched.

  “I know, Tim,” I said, “but you’ll just have to be patient, won’t you?”

  Then I skipped over to where I’d put the rest of the tie collection, rifling through them until I found the one I wanted, and then sauntered back over to him. I dangled the tie in front of his face, then held it under my breasts to lift them upward. I took off his pants and underwear, then I took the tie and used it to gently lift his balls. When Tim moaned and his cock danced for me, I went further, wrapping the tie around the base of his cock, letting the ends fall down. “Who knew your old ties would come in so handy?” I asked as I grabbed another tie and secured his ankles.

  My pussy was really starting to need some attention, but I didn’t want to give up my control. I walked over to our bed, peeled down the blankets and climbed in, then spread my legs and began playing with myself. “If you can get yourself over here, you can have my pussy,” I told him, sure that he’d do anything he had to for this coveted prize.

  Well, as it turned out, what he had to do was hop over to me, careful not to lose his balance. I plunged my fingers deep into my cunt while keeping an eye on him to make sure he was all right. I hadn’t tied his ankles too tightly, and he’s pretty athletic, so after a few minutes of small, steady hops, he’d made it over to me. His dick was so hard, it looked like he might come at any moment. “I’m so proud of you, Tim,” I said, offering him my glossy, pussy-flavored fingers to suck on while I reached behind him to undo his wrists before freeing his dick. With some careful maneuvering involving his bending forward onto the bed, inching upward, then rolling over onto his back, I got his head onto the pillows, arms above him, while his ankles were still tied.

  “Do I need to secure your wrists to the headboard, or will you be able to keep them still for me?” I asked.

  “I’ll be good, Darlene, I promise,” he said pleadingly. His cock was so hard and I needed it inside me so badly that I couldn’t wait a moment longer.

  “You’d better be,” is all I said as I straddled him and pressed my pussy downward, snaring his cock inside my tight tunnel. I leaned forward, pinning my husband with my weight, grinding my hips against his as I frigged my clit. Knowing he was trapped beneath me made me even hornier. I could just as easily slide off his cock and plant my pussy over his mouth, or take a nearby vibrator and let it whir me to climax.

  I moved up and down, getting both of us incredibly worked up. It was probably inevitable that his hands would start to slip from the headboard as I tightened my pussy around him and gyrated. The minute Tim’s right hand slipped, though, I paused, lifting my cunt off his cock. I ignored the deep ache inside me as I pounced on his wayward arm.

  “What did I tell you about keeping your hands in place?” My fingers clamped down around his wrist and jerked it back into place. His cock twitched against my thigh as I spoke in my harsh tone. “You’d better leave it there this time, or you’ll be in real trouble!” I said, shocking even myself with my bossy attitude.

  I slipped his dick back inside me and he closed his eyes. As I pumped my hips up and down, his cock seemed to swell even more. I glanced behind me at his bound ankles, then leaned back so my hands rested against his thighs, my hair tickling his skin as I arched my head back, my pussy on full display for him. He found a creative way to use his position to his erotic advantage, tightly gripping the headboard and rocking against it, his cock pounding into me. I slowly drew back up, my breasts bobbing as I once again took his entire length inside me. “Please, may I come?” he asked. I hadn’t even told him he had to wait—what a good boy he was being!

  “Yes, you may, in a moment,” I said, then spread my legs wider, feeling my muscles strain as I rode his cock for all I was worth, giving myself a powerful climax that showered him with juices. “I want to feel your hot come,” I ordered, and he dutifully delivered what I’d asked for, a torrent of lava bathing my insides.

  “You may move your hands now,” I relented, and he swooped me up in his arms, peppering me with kisses. I kissed him back, then teased him. “So, do you think we should hold on to these ties when we move?” He didn’t need to reply to my question, and as I removed the one holding his ankles together, I already knew what his answer would be.

  —Ms. Darlene T., Springfield, Missouri

  Horny Hubby Gets a Taste of His Naughty Porn Fantasy When He’s Dolled Up and Tied Up!

  Several months ago, I discovered that my husband, Jerry, was visiting porn sites online featuring women in bondage. I was upset, not because I was offended by the content, but because he hadn’t mentioned a word about this interest to me—probably thinking I’d be irate, even though I’ve always been open-minded and adventurous in bed. Then I found some postings he’d put up on a message board of a different sort, confessing to wanting to be tied up and made to dress as a woman. I was shocked, because he’d never breathed even a word of such naughty fantasies to me in our ten years together. Well, if that’s what he wanted, he was going to get it—in spades!

  The more I looked at the sites on my own, the more a plan started to form in my mind about how to teach my sneaky little hubby a lesson—and have some fun in the process. I waited to confront him until I had the perfect arsenal of weapons: black handcuffs, a large coil of rope, and a ball gag, along with a white lace bra, matching garter belt and panties, white stockings, white slip, and white heels. I waited for a Friday night when we’d have plenty of time to ourselves and he wouldn’t suspect a thing. His postings online had gotten increasingly graphic and elaborate, and I knew that the mere sight of all our new accoutrements would make him practically come in his pants—or panties, I should say.

  When Jerry got home that night, I simply did what I always do. Smiling, I took his coat and offered him a drink. I wanted him to be perfectly relaxed when I dropped my kinky little bombshell. I waited until he’d taken the last sip, then said, “Jerry, there’s something we need to talk about,” in the calmest, most serious voice I could muster.

  He almost choked on his drink, and when he looked up at me, I could tell right away that he knew exactly what I was talking about. “So you found out,” he said, his voice dulled by guilt.

  “Of course, I did,” I said, a wicked grin curving my red lips, “but don’t worry—y
ou’re not in the doghouse. I am, however, going to make sure you make it up to me and are honest with me in the future.”

  His expression started to change as he pondered what I had in mind. “How?” was all he wanted to know.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” I said, relishing my power and finding that it was making me increasingly horny. “Now, come with me,” I said, standing and grabbing the back of his shirt to lift him out of his seat. He started to speak, but I reached around and clapped my hand over his mouth. “There, is that better? More in line with what your fantasy women would do?” I asked, feeling his mouth moving beneath my palm.

  I nudged him forward, my knee grazing the back of his, and I was sure that he was totally hard. I marched him like this into the bedroom, where my treasure awaited. When he saw everything laid out across the bed, he simply moaned. “I’m going to be in charge tonight,” I told him, shoving him onto the bed. “Now take off all your clothes and be quiet,” I said. He removed his clothes, his face a perfect blend of contrite apology and extreme excitement. When he got to his pants, he could hardly get them undone because his cock had grown so hard. Finally, he was naked, and I admired his sexy body for a second before ordering him to start the process of becoming Jane, my new girlish plaything.

  When he just stared back at me, I said, “Go on, put on the panties, and the bra, and the slip—all of it. Then I’m going to give you some lipstick.” He looked shocked even as his bare cock twitched. I’d gotten him extra-large panties, but he still had trouble fitting his entire package into them, and I chuckled at the sight of him contorting himself. He finally settled for the very tip of his cock peeking through above the waistband of the panties. “Keep going,” I said, hurrying him along, eager to see my new creation. He fumbled with all the womanly garments I’d set out for him, but finally got them all on, and I’ll be damned if my husband didn’t look half bad as a girl!