We were so hot for each other that, once naked, there was no need for any preliminaries. I moaned with pleasure as Jim sank his cock inside my pussy and then wrapped my arms around his back as he started fucking me.
Within seconds we were going at it like crazy, the two of us grunting and groaning like animals. At one point I happened to lift my head off the floor and look toward the tall windows of the classroom, and what I saw surprised the hell out of me. Standing outside were four male students watching Jim and me screw! The happy smiles on their faces told me they were enjoying the action—one guy even gave me a thumbs-up sign—and this drove me wild. To the best of my knowledge, I had never been watched while fucking before, and I wanted to make the most of it. If it was a show the guys wanted, it was a show they would get.
I pulled Jim off me and had him get on his back. I kissed him on the mouth and then worked my way down his hard, muscular body, licking his chest, gently biting his nipples, trailing my tongue across the flat expanse of his stomach. And then Jim’s beautiful cock was in my mouth, and I was sucking on it like crazy, making a great show of gobbling that tasty stalk of flesh. My bold new lover had no idea we were being watched, which added an extra element of wickedness to what I was doing.
Soon enough Jim was spurting, his pulsing cock shooting globs of creamy come into my mouth as he moaned with delight. I swallowed some, then jerked his spurting cock from my mouth so the rest of his seed could splash against my face. Then, licking my lips, I looked up toward the tall window and discovered that my audience had grown even larger! Obviously, word had spread quickly, and now there were at least a dozen delighted voyeurs outside, all grinning, some rubbing their cocks through their pants.
Happily, Jim was as eager for another round as I was, and so I quickly straddled his head and lowered my soaking pussy onto his face. Naturally, I positioned myself so that I was facing the window, giving the guys outside a clear view as I ground my pussy into Jim’s face while squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples. In no time Jim was hard again, and after giving my admirers a wink, I slithered back down Jim’s body until I was straddling his hips, my pussy hovering over his born-again cock.
I teased myself, and the guys outside, by rubbing the fat head of Jim’s cock up and down my slick slit, pressing it hard against my aroused clitoris. Then, with a sigh of pleasure, I sank down on that pole of flesh, taking all of its pulsing fullness inside me.
I had intended to take my time, to enjoy a long, leisurely ride on Jim’s cock, but the feel of it inside me combined with the hungry looks from the guys watching outside made me crazy. I started bouncing on my classmate’s cock, riding it furiously, pounding my pussy down onto that fleshy spike again and again. Through eyes blurred by lust, I saw the guys outside still watching intently, cheering now, urging me on. The pleasure built and built until finally I exploded in the most sensational orgasm of my life, made all the more intense by the feel of Jim’s semen shooting up into my convulsing pussy.
Breathing heavily, I collapsed on Jim’s chest and then, after a moment, looked up toward the window. The guys were applauding my show! Soon thereafter, singly and in pairs, they departed, no doubt amazed and delighted at their chance discovery. As for me, I couldn’t remember ever enjoying myself more.
My sex life now is everything a perpetually horny girl could ask for. Not only do I see Jim regularly for some hot-and-heavy screwing, but most of the fellows who witnessed our wild session in the classroom have asked me out. Obviously, they all want to find out for themselves how good a lay I can be. And I haven’t disappointed a one.
—Ms. G.R., Canton, Ohio
Bound and Spanked by Another Woman—the Joyous Fulfillment of My Darkest Desire
The subjects I enjoy reading about in Penthouse Variations are bondage and spanking. The thought of being bound to a bed, exposed and helpless, knowing my bottom will be spanked, arouses me to no end. Recently, I decided to make it happen, but with a woman instead of a man. I selected a black dress that came to mid-thigh, black bikini panties with matching garter belt, lace-topped stockings, and high heels. To signal my need, I put on a dog collar I’d purchased.
I took a cab to a bar where I’d seen some leather women. Surprised to find it so quiet for a Friday night, I wiggled my way up to the bar, climbed up on the stool, and ordered a glass of wine. Within minutes, a strong-looking woman came up and asked if she could buy me a drink. I was immediately attracted to her.
She had long dark hair, full breasts, and long legs. I discovered she was twenty-six and single. Lena, as I was directed to call her, was a sales manager for a computer firm and was finishing her MBA at the university. Since my degree is in computer science, we had a lot in common.
It wasn’t long before we were talking like old friends, and I began to share with her what I really wanted. She listened and smiled knowingly when I used the words “sex slave.” Then she put her arm around my shoulders, caressing my neck and sending electric shocks through my body. When she asked if I wanted to go to her place, I accepted without hesitation.
Lena’s apartment was exactly as I’d imagined—feminine with tasteful pieces of art, all of beautiful nude women. She offered me a drink and told me to make myself comfortable, then excused herself. She returned minutes later wearing a short, sheer robe. Sitting down next to me on the couch and looking me straight in the eye, she asked if I had every really been someone’s sex slave. I blushingly confessed my obsession with bondage and discipline.
Lena led me to her bedroom and told me to take off my dress. I whimpered as she gently ran her hands over my exposed flesh. Her pinching of my nipple sent a sensation of pain and pleasure through my eager body. She ordered me to remove my panties and to put on a black thong bikini that barely covered my pussy and left my bottom nearly naked. Then she took off my collar, replacing it with one of hers that had a short leash attached. To complete the outfit, she made me step into really high heels.
She put on a record and ordered me to dance, telling me to shake my breasts and wiggle my bottom. As I attempted to perform for her, I kept stumbling in my heels. Saying that I deserved to be disciplined for not knowing how to dance, Lena led me to her bed by the leash on my collar. I was ordered to stand at the foot of her four-poster while she secured my arms to the top of the posts and my legs to the bottom. This left me standing spread-eagled, facing the bed. At the head of the bed was a huge mirror, and in it I saw an aroused naked woman, bound and totally vulnerable.
Lena removed her dress and panties. She rubbed the panties in my face and then put them in my mouth, tying a stocking around my head to hold them in place. Putting the other stocking in my hand, she told me I was to drop it if the pain got to be too much. Then, reaching under her bed, she brought out a whip that was about two feet long.
Walking behind me, Lena ran the whip over my back, up my thighs and between my ass cheeks. She patted my pussy, the end of the whip nipping at my exposed lips. Then she stopped, and it was very still. Suddenly, the whip struck my naked buttocks with a loud, frightening sound, searing the tender flesh and sending an electric shock of pain and pleasure through my body. The blows came faster as I struggled against my bonds. Moving down my thighs, where the flesh is more sensitive, she whipped the naked skin above my stockings, making me cry out. In the mirror, I could see my breasts bouncing around.
To my joy, the suffering was accompanied by pleasure unlike any I’d ever known. My pussy was soaked, desperate for relief. Lena put her cheek near mine, a knowing smile on her face. As she rubbed the tip of the whip’s handle across my breasts, I almost dropped the stocking but hung on, waiting for the punishment to continue. Lena resumed whipping my buttocks. As I tugged against the ropes that bound my arms and legs in a futile attempt to avoid the whip, my body shook with an intense orgasm that left me hanging limp and exhausted.
With the wild humping of my hips, Lena had ceased her attack. Then I felt something prod my virgin asshole. An animal moan escaped through my pan
ty gag as I felt her fingers stretching my opening. Suddenly, an object, a dildo, was entering my ass. I heard Lena tell me to relax as she worked the thing inside me. And then I was full. Nothing had ever entered my rear hole, and it felt wonderful.
Slowly, Lena worked the dildo in and out, at the same time teasing my juicy pussy and fingering my clitoris. As she continued fucking my ass, she held up to my face the largest dildo I had ever seen. I shuddered at the thought of being impaled by this monster cock, but my body betrayed me and before I knew it, my pussy had swallowed its entire length.
I was in heaven. A huge cock was stuffed up my cunt and a smaller one was up my ass. Lena continued fucking me with the dildos as she began sucking on my sensitive nipples. God, it was wonderful! Again I erupted in a massive orgasm. A moment later, Lena released me from my bonds, and I collapsed on the bed. Quickly, she rolled me onto my back and bound my arms and legs to the four posts.
Clad only in her stockings and garter belt, she removed my gag and then lowered her pussy to my lips, ordering me to lick her. I consumed her pussy, nipping at her clitoris, sucking greedily on her until she let out a guttural, “Yes, oh yes. Suck my clit,” and then came. At almost the same time, my pussy rewarded me with another orgasm.
I spent the rest of the night with Lena and have seen her regularly ever since. I have become her sex slave, serving on two occasions as the main course for a special female friend of hers who also enjoys taking me out for an evening of humiliation before returning to Lena’s apartment for a good discipline session.
—Ms. O.I., Cleveland, Ohio
Zestful Miss Makes Lonely Widower Feel Alive Again
Faithful to Celeste for all thirty years of our marriage, I was devastated when illness took her from me. For months I wandered aimlessly around our big old house, missing her terribly, refusing the comfort of friends and relatives, viewing the future with dread. And then Daisy bounced into my life, turning it around completely.
After months of neglect, the house needed cleaning in the worst way. Having neither the energy nor the interest to tackle the job myself, I decided to heed the advice of a friend and hire a housekeeper. Not a fulltime cleaning lady, but someone who would come by maybe two, three days a week to keep things in order. So I put an ad in the local paper, envisioning myself interviewing a bunch of tough-minded, tart-tongued old ladies seeking top dollar for minimum labor. I was not at all prepared for the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young lady who showed up on my doorstep one bright sunshiny morning.
Before I could explain why I didn’t think she was right for the job, Daisy was off and running, hardly taking a breath as she told me how badly she needed a job, how dependable and hard working she was, how she could start immediately, and so on. Somewhere in there was the fact that she was a graduate student studying American history at the local university, that most of her savings had gone toward tuition, that she lived in a rooming house near school, and that she needed money for food, clothes, and transportation. Wouldn’t I at least give her a chance? Please?
Looking back, I have to admit that my hiring of Daisy had as much to do with her bubbly personality and the allure of her compact little body as it did with the puppy-dog look she gave me as I mulled my decision. Approximately five-feet-two-inches tall, Daisy has curly blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, pert breasts, and a perfectly rounded bottom. To respond to the energy she exuded struck me as perfectly right, but to be so impacted by her curvy figure and infectious smile was unnerving. After all, I was more than twice her age.
Daisy’s first day on the job was an unqualified success. As she dusted, vacuumed, straightened up the kitchen and generally put things in order, it became more and more apparent that I had made the right decision. At the day’s end, I congratulated her on a job well done. Daisy gave me a big smile and a peck on the cheek before scooting out the door. Smiling, I watched from the window as she scampered down the street.
In the weeks that followed, our boss-and-employee relationship evolved into friendship, despite the difference in our ages. Daisy started sharing her personal life with me, talking about her schoolwork, her goals in life, her family and friends. I, in turn, found myself opening up to her, speaking freely, comfortably, about my life with Celeste, the career I’d had in engineering, my golf game, the fact that I was a Civil War buff.
I realized that having Daisy around energized me, made me feel whole again. I was happier than I had been in a long time, and when she wasn’t in the house, I truly missed her. For her part, Daisy seemed genuinely impressed with my life experience, frequently seeking my advice on this and that, valuing my opinion. I delighted in her trust and respect.
But there was more: an undercurrent of sexual tension that was impossible to ignore. No man could fail to respond to Daisy’s charms—her youthful vitality, her bright-eyed optimism, the sight of her in a tight-fitting sweater and even tighter jeans—but the growing intensity of my need was almost frightening. And how thrilled I was when I first realized that she viewed me as a potential lover. That I had not been imagining those lingering smiles, the warmth of her touch, the way she would “accidentally” brush up against me, her eyes twinkling as if she knew a secret and wasn’t telling.
It all came to a head the day I offered Daisy a look at my collection of Civil War books and artifacts. On the sofa in the finished basement, we talked and laughed and talked some more. Then, suddenly, Daisy leaned into me and kissed me full on the lips. It was a quick, impulsive gesture. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, drawing back. “I shouldn’t have.”
Smiling, I took Daisy in my arms and kissed her, lightly at first and then more urgently, as I felt my cock begin swelling in my pants. Daisy responded, her tongue wending its way into my mouth as she pressed her small, firm breasts hard against my chest. She placed one hand on the back of my head as the other dipped down between my legs to close around the growing bulge there.
Daisy undressed me, and then I her, but where she had worked quickly, I took my time, baring her firm, compact body like one unwrapping a special present. When she was naked, I feasted on her beauty, my eyes and hands roving here, there, everywhere to enjoy the smoothness of her unblemished flesh, the firmness of her breasts and bottom, the sparkle in her eyes. Finally Daisy bade me sit back on the sofa and then knelt between my legs.
“I just knew you’d have a nice big one,” she said, cradling my cock in her small hands. And then she was licking it, swabbing the head first, and then sliding her tongue down the sensitive underside, planting little kisses on the other side as she returned to the head. She took a moment to lick away a drop of precome before opening wide to take my cock in her mouth.
A soft moan escaped my throat as Daisy started sucking me, and when she paused and looked up at me with my cock in her mouth and bloating her sweet cheeks, I almost lost it. Although I had assumed that Daisy was sexually active, I was still surprised at her cocksucking expertise. It was obvious that she enjoyed sucking on a cock, her enthusiasm combining with her skill to keep me in seventh heaven. When she finally relinquished my cock and climbed up into my lap, I was aching to feel the wet warmth of her golden-haired pussy.
“Oh, yes, I want to sit on it,” Daisy said excitedly, placing the saliva-coated head of my cock at the entrance to her sex. She lowered herself slowly onto my pole of flesh, an inch or so at a time, whimpering happily and then letting out a throaty moan when all seven inches were comfortably ensconced inside her. “You feel so good inside me, George,” she said, wiggling her hips.
And then she was moving up and down, her hands gripping my shoulders as she rode my cock. I brought my hands up to her pert breasts and squeezed, enjoying their spongy firmness. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now,” Daisy was saying, continuing to bounce up and down on me. “It’s wonderful.”
It was all that and more, and as I reached around to take hold of her bobbing ass cheeks, I gave silent thanks to whatever god had seen fit to drop such a delightful girl on my doorstep. Up and
down, up and down Daisy moved, coming once while rocking on my cock and then a second time when, unable to hold back any longer, I groaned and shot my semen into the butter-soft cove of her pussy.
Daisy rested atop me for a while, laying her head on my shoulder and purring contentedly as I stroked her back and buttocks. Then she sat up and smiled. “Can we do it again? I mean, after you rest and all. I don’t want to tire you out.”
I had to laugh at that. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so vital, so alive. Without a word, I lifted Daisy off me and put her on the sofa, then went about feasting on her beautiful pussy. In no time at all, the taste and scent of her, combined with her cries of delight as my tongue rummaged in the folds of her sex and caressed her clitoris, had me stone-hard again. This time Daisy wanted it from behind, and I was quick to oblige.
As she knelt in front of the sofa, her breasts mashed against the seat cushion, I got on the floor behind her and without delay slid easily into her soaking pussy. Daisy moaned and told me to give it to her hard, which I did, my hands locking on to her hips as I pounded into her. I savored the tightness of her young pussy, her sounds of pleasure, the knowledge that I was still stud enough to satisfy such a delicious young woman. When Daisy came I was right behind her, my come spilling into her contracting pussy.
“Whew—that was terrific,” Daisy said when she could speak. “I knew you’d be a great lover.”
Well, that was five months ago and Daisy is still keeping house for me. She’s also living with me. Where this will all end, I have no idea. I do know that she has given meaning to my life, infused it with excitement, a sense of adventure. Celeste, of course, will always occupy a special place in my heart, and our many wonderful years together will never fade from memory. I like to think that my wife is smiling down at me, pleased by what has transpired, happy in the knowledge that now there is another woman, albeit a much younger one, to take care of me. How lucky I am!
Letters to Penthouse XXXXII Page 14