Letters to Penthouse XXXX

by Penthouse International

  “I love policemen,” she whispered as she slid her lips from mine and trailed them down my neck. “They’re always in control. Except sometimes.” She took a step back then and locked eyes with me. Her smile was somewhat challenging now as she moved lithely in front of me, the tight leather hugging her curves as she swayed her hips and ran her hands invitingly over her body.

  When I stepped closer to touch her again, she moved farther out of my grasp. She obviously wanted to tease me, and her plan was working. Sweat began to form on my forehead, and I could practically feel my blood boiling for her. She was virtually making me beg for something that she evidently wanted as much as I did. I remembered what she’d said about being in control. Maybe this was about power.

  Taking a sudden step toward her, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tightly against me, grinding my hips against her, showing her just how badly I wanted her. She tried to pull away from me, but not too hard. I leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “This game would be more fun someplace else.”

  For a long moment she just continued to look at me, and then she simply nodded. Taking her hand firmly, I led her off the dance floor and out of the ballroom, through the hotel lobby, and out onto the sidewalk.

  Once we were away from the hotel, I pinned her against the nearest building, moving in to kiss her neck. Expertly she dodged away from me and continued walking. I caught up with her. “What’s your name anyway?” I asked her.

  She grinned at me without breaking stride. “It’s Catwoman,” she murmured. “Don’t you know that?” And then she leaned close to my ear and made a very sexy purring noise. Shivers rocketed down my spine. With a response like that, I didn’t care anymore what her name was.

  It seemed to take 10 times longer to traverse the five blocks to my apartment than it had taken me to get from there to the hotel. All I could think about was the beauty beside me. Where had she come from? How could I possibly be this lucky? There were hundreds of questions running through my mind, but I forgot them all when we finally reached my apartment. As soon as I closed the door behind us she grabbed me and pinned me back against the wall in a fierce kiss.

  Before I was even fully aware of what was happening, she had pulled open my shirt and had it on the floor. I moved away from her long enough to make it into the bedroom, but she was hot on my heels. Her lips were pressed to the bare skin of my chest as she pulled my belt off, slid my zipper down, and pushed my pants to the floor. I kicked my shoes off and stepped out of the pants just as she pushed my boxers down as well. My cock sprang to life in front of her, and she sank to her knees on the floor, wrapping her lips around it.

  I was unprepared for this assault; my legs gave way and I fell onto the bed behind me. Her mouth never seemed to lose its place on my now very hard cock. She took it deep down her throat and sucked hard, bringing me dangerously close to the edge, and then slowing to an even, steady pace that had me bordering on insanity, writhing with pleasure under her knowledgeable mouth and tongue.

  But of course she didn’t let me come. Just before the point of no return, she pulled her mouth off me and straightened up, telling me to roll over onto my stomach. I groaned with frustration. I didn’t much relish feeling my hard cock crushed beneath me, especially as it would then be out of reach of her mouth. As I hesitated, she pulled out the little whip that hung at her waist. It didn’t look very menacing; it was more of a toy than anything else, a short plastic handle with a few limp leather strands attached. She couldn’t have done more with it than to sting me a little bit, but she didn’t even do that; she simply held it by the handle and let the strands dangle onto my thigh. And yet there was something thrillingly erotic about it, the way she was standing there, the picture she made holding the whip. She slid the strands lightly over my leg, and when she told me again to roll over, I did so.

  With my face pressed against the mattress, I could feel her running the dangling strands of the whip gently along my body. Then, without warning, she gave me a quick smack on the ass with her free hand. My body tensed, but a further wave of excitement rushed through me. Even in the midst of my lust I couldn’t help wondering what had gotten into me. Granted she was hot, but being dominated had never really been my thing. However, she had definitely gotten my attention, which was more than I could say for most of the women I’d fucked.

  Then I remembered what she had said back at the hotel about being in control, and how she had seemed to challenge me even then. If this was a struggle for control, for power, how could I allow her to take charge this way? My mind began to race, seeking a way to turn the situation around. Meanwhile she appeared to be enjoying her ascendancy. “Okay,” she said then. “Now that you know who’s in charge here, fuck me.”

  It was not a request; it was an order. And happy as I was to carry it out, I suddenly wanted it to be on my terms. As she turned away to unlace her corset and remove her leather pants, I reached to the floor for the belt of my costume and detached the handcuffs that hung from it, picking them up and concealing them in the bedclothes.

  When she turned back around she had taken off every stitch she’d been wearing, except for the black plastic mask across her upper face. She looked as sexy as I had imagined, and for a brief moment I forgot about everything else. But then, as she moved to the bed, I caught her right wrist in my hand and snapped one of the cuffs on it before she could move away. Pulling her down on the bed, I pinned her hands above her head, lacing the handcuffs through the rungs of the wrought-iron headboard before snapping the other cuff around her left wrist. Then I stepped back to admire my handiwork. She wasn’t smiling now, but she didn’t look angry either. It was as if she had been expecting something like that, and maybe she had.

  “Now who’s in control?” I said mockingly. “Don’t worry, baby, I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Although you have been a very naughty pussy this evening.” I lowered myself to the bed and bent down to press my mouth to her full stiff-nippled breast. Then I moved down on the bed and spread her legs. “That pussy needs a licking,” I said, and moved in, sliding my tongue between her wet, swollen cunt lips.

  Still, she didn’t say a word, but I heard her draw in her breath sharply. I kept my tongue working, and suddenly her hips bucked, pressing her crotch harder against my face. I moved to her clit, sucking it into my mouth as I ran my tongue across it. She tasted so good, and I almost forgot about my throbbing cock as I became consumed with the effort of making her come. I wanted to see what that body would look like sprawled across my bed, shaking and writhing beneath my expert touch.

  Sliding my fingers inside her, I began working her G-spot, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke. I felt a surge of triumph as she began to moan, softly at first, then more loudly. The moans turned to cries, and then she was begging. “Oh, please, oh, God, oh, fuck, please let me come. Let me come for you. I’m your naughty pussy and I want to come for you!”

  Her words sounded muffled in my ears, as my head was sandwiched between her clenched thighs, but I knew what she was saying, and I gloried in the fact that I had turned the tables on her, that I had taken control and given her everything she could handle.

  Finally I sent her over the edge, spiraling into an explosive orgasm that left her body twitching and writhing, just as I had fantasized. When her climax ebbed, that body collapsed limply against the cool sheets.

  Kneeling between her thighs, I lowered my mouth to her hard nipples, and she whimpered. I looked up into her eyes, which seemed to plead with me, though whether to let her rest or to go on with what I had been doing, I was not quite sure. I moved to kiss her on the mouth, and immediately her lips opened under mine and her tongue probed hotly for my throat. “Don’t stop…” she breathed into my mouth.

  With our lips still locked together I positioned myself between her thighs and slid my rigid cock into her dripping wet pussy, sliding every last inch of myself inside her. Her hips lifted off the bed, her body straining to accommodate me. Moving in and out of that clu
tching pussy, I slid my mouth downward, flicking my tongue across the hollow of her neck, then moving down to her hard nipples, never stopping the even rhythm of my cock as it pounded into her.

  When I looked up at one point to meet her eyes, I felt a sudden flash of recognition, but it was too vague and fleeting for me to identify, and it passed as quickly as it had come. She was bucking her hips up to meet mine now with every stroke, and I concentrated on possessing her with renewed energy and vigor. My balls slapped against her ass, and I reached down to rub her clit as I felt my own climax building in my gut.

  Soon she was straining against the handcuffs, lifting her head off the pillow and covering my lips with hers, locking our tongues together as she came around my cock. The spasmodic clutching of her cunt sent me spiraling. My balls tightened as I came, and I cried out as I shot everything I had into the fabulous body of the writhing minx beneath me.

  As soon as I came to my senses I leaned down to kiss her, then reached to pull off her mask. But she turned her head away. “Please,” she panted, “undo my handcuffs first.” Obligingly I retrieved the keys from my pants and released her from her constraints. Immediately she sprang off the bed and made a dash for her clothing, heaped on the floor. I moved to stop her, but she heaved one of her boots at me, and I fell back on the bed,

  “What is your problem?” I yelled, but she didn’t say a word as she pulled on her partially laced corset, then scurried to slip into her pants. I moved to her again, and this time managed to pin her to the wall. Bringing my mouth to hers, I kissed her, reaching up to undo her mask as I did so.

  “Christ, it’s you!” I gasped as I pulled the mask off to reveal the face of the female bartender I had fucked only a few nights before. I was too surprised to stop her again as she slipped away and made a dash for the door. I tried to follow her, but she was in the elevator before I had time to put on something decent.

  “Fuck!” I yelled again as I sank down on the bed. She had been the best fuck of my life, and I still didn’t remember her name.

  —N.L., Buffalo, New York

  She and Her Husband Were Two Girls Out for a Good Time

  When Chris asked me to marry him, he told me he had a confession to make. “I’m a cross-dresser,” he said. “I like girls’ clothes. I like to wear skirts and dresses, lingerie and makeup. I love feeling feminine. And marriage probably won’t change that. Do you think you can accept me that way?”

  For an answer I took him into my arms.

  The fact is that I love my husband. I love everything about him and everything he is. And as a bonus, it’s as though I married two people. He is both my husband and my best girlfriend.

  On the night we became engaged, after he told me about his fetish, we made love in our underwear. We took each other’s clothes off, and I was surprised, but not disturbed, to find that he was wearing panties and a bra. He didn’t want to take them off, so I left mine on, too. First we made out on the couch, and soon he was dry-humping me. I can’t tell you how sensational it felt to have his hard thing rubbing my sopping mound through two layers of nylon. And how many women can say they’ve made love with a man who wore a bra? We took turns being on top, slowly grinding against each other until we both came in our panties.

  We have now been married for four years. Chris always wears a bra and panties under his clothes, and he wears his hair long, keeping it in a ponytail at work. He is a commercial artist and graphic designer; I work as an accountant for a construction company. We still have a good sex life, but although Chris has always assured me that I satisfy his sexual needs, I have often wondered just how much more of the female experience he would really like to explore.

  One Saturday morning a few months ago I told Chris that I had made an appointment for him with my hairdresser for later that day. He looked at me in surprise. “She knows just what to do,” I told him. “So just let her do it. And you’re getting your nails done, too. We’re going out tonight, and we’re going to look like two gorgeous babes on the town.”

  “Uh… okay,” he said. He looked excited and nervous at the same time.

  My hairdresser, following my instructions, shampooed, conditioned, and permed Chris’s formerly straight hair, and gave him a very feminine shag cut, bangs and all. He told me he nearly popped a woody when he first saw himself in the mirror.

  That evening Chris and I both treated ourselves to a warm bubble bath. Then we put on our lingerie and did our makeup. Chris chose a tight blue skirt and a white silk top. The skirt wasn’t exactly a mini, but it showed a good deal of smooth-shaven leg. He wore white satin panties and a gel-filled bra to give his chest as much definition as possible. I went with a yellow flower-print dress with spaghetti straps. The final touch for Chris was a delicate gold necklace and diamond stud earrings. He looked beautiful.

  I had made dinner reservations for us at a place we’d never been before. I had made some other plans, too. I had decided that this was the night that Chris would lose his (her) virginity.

  We both left our wedding rings on the dresser before we went out and got in the car. I drove. Often, when we passed a car with men in it, Chris turned heads. Every time it happened he would look at me and smile. It made me smile, too.

  After dinner I suggested we cruise around and do a little bar hopping. Actually I had an agenda, but Chris didn’t need to find that out just yet.

  We hit a couple of clubs and danced a little. I drank a bit more than I usually do, because I wanted Chris to drink, too. So we were both feeling pretty good when we ended up at an Irish pub that we both liked, but hadn’t been to for a while. That’s where the ambush was scheduled to take place.

  It was about 10:30 when we got there, and the place was packed. There was no place to sit, so we stood at the bar and ordered a couple of gimlets. The gimlets arrived, and so, on schedule, did Alex and Ray. They both worked for the construction company where I was employed, and I had secretly arranged to meet them here, telling them that I would be out for a night on the town with my girlfriend. They had a table, and they invited us to join them.

  Alex was a tall blond guy, divorced from his wife, and Ray was a big good-looking black dude who had never been married. As Alex said about him, I guess you don’t need a wife if you’re getting more ass than a toilet seat.

  Ray wasn’t shy either. Right away he started coming on to me. Actually this was part of my plan; it had long been one of our mutual fantasies for me to take a black lover and have Chris watch. I was also glad to see that Alex, for his part, seemed to take a special interest in Chris.

  When a slow dance tune came over the sound system, the two guys stood up and led us to the dance floor. I was a little anxious until I saw Chris glide smoothly into Alex’s arms as they smiled at each other. I didn’t have too much chance to observe them after that, as Ray became blatantly sexual, grabbing my ass and pushing his crotch into mine. He dry-humped me through the whole dance. I was not unaware of the bulge in his pants, and after a while I was humping him right back. If this evening ended as planned, I had the feeling I was going to enjoy it every bit as much as Chris was.

  We stayed until last call, and by the time we left, both Chris and I were more than a little under the influence. When Alex said that his apartment was nearby and invited us for a nightcap, Chris said we should be getting home, but I pointed out that neither of us was in any condition to drive. So he agreed.

  As soon as we got to Alex’s apartment he offered us more alcohol. Nobody refused.

  Ray drained his drink with one big gulp. Then he pounced on me. I hardly had time to put my glass down before he scooped me into his powerful arms and kissed me. His tongue was in my mouth and his meaty hand was on my ass, pulling me against him. I felt the hard arrogance of his prick through the thin material of my dress. My knees were like water. I could see Chris watching me, just as in our fantasies, and I could only hope he was enjoying the sight.

  My hormones were raging, and any inhibitions I had, due to the fact that A
lex was watching, too, swiftly disappeared. Ray was sliding the straps of my dress off my shoulders, peeling it down my body to expose my white lace bra. He squeezed my heaving breasts in his big hands. Then the bra fluttered to the floor, and his mouth was sucking on my erect nipples. I felt him pulling the dress over my hips, and it cascaded down my legs. I was wearing only my skimpy thong panties and sandals.

  He stopped sucking my breasts long enough to shuck off his shirt, while I unbuckled his belt and tugged at his fly. I went to my knees and yanked his pants and boxer shorts down, and his impressive manhood was staring me in the face. It was long and thick and uncircumcised. I looked up and saw Chris watching me, and a surge of lust went through me. I sucked Ray’s dick into my mouth, and heard him sigh with pleasure.

  After letting me suck him for a few minutes, Ray pulled me to my feet with a growl and laid me on the couch. He yanked my panties down and off and tossed them over his shoulder. Then his head was between my thighs and his tongue was parting the petals of my womanhood, searching for my sensitive little pearl. I went wild with lust and desire. He slurped and licked and sucked me, and in less than a minute I had my first orgasm of the night.

  “Fuck me,” I panted when I could speak again. “Oh, God, fuck me with that big thing!”

  Ray took my ankles in his strong hands and planted them on his shoulders, causing my bottom to rise off the sofa cushions. I slid a hand between my parted thighs and guided his pulsing organ into my pussy. Soon his guttural moans were mixing with my cries of ecstasy as our bodies slapped together. At that point I forgot about Chris, about Alex; the only thing that existed for me was the huge black cock inside me, and how incredibly good it felt. I was stuffed full and stretched like never before. I felt another volcanic orgasm building, and when it burst I rode the crest of an erotic tidal wave that swept through my whole body. I can’t describe it; I can only wish that every woman, at least once in her life, could have an orgasm like that!