Wow, I was getting hard all over again! Soon I realized there was no way I could concentrate on my work at hand, and called in to the main office and told them I was taking a half-day of personal time. With that, I ran out the door and jumped into my car. Naturally I knew my first stop would have to be at a convenience store, to pick up another issue of your wonderful publication. And it didn’t disappoint!
Simply put, as I said, my wife had had understandable misgivings when I raised the subject, but even then she hadn’t said no either. Now I convinced her to let me read her a couple of letters from Penthouse Letters, and it wasn’t long before she was as turned on as I was.
After I read the third letter, she was moving about on the bed, turning from side to side, squeezing her hand between her legs. She asked me to read slower! Of course I was happy to do as she asked, which only added to the turn-on I was experiencing from the sight of her getting into this.
In a matter of moments she was frigging her clit and tweaking her nipples. Eventually she sent herself over the edge, causing herself a thunderous climax.
Not wanting to leave me out, Stephanie slunk to her knees between my legs and pulled down my shorts, unleashing my raging hard-on. She worked her lips up and down the side of my shaft while I continued to read on—somewhat halfheartedly, I have to admit. When she sucked my cock into her mouth, I let out a gasp. And as she hummed her approval up and down my shaft, my body jerked with a force I had never experienced as my cock exploded, shooting shot after shot of come down my wife’s throat.
She licked me dry, and we both collapsed on the bed, coming down from a high unlike any we had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. The next thing I knew, my wife was asking how we should go about setting this up. And that was the start of our venture into watching.
We decided to make it a friend who would be all for it. And we knew exactly who to ask. Philip has been a friend of ours for more than a decade, and we knew that he was totally infatuated with Stephanie. We didn’t think there would be any reason to feel uncomfortable about proposing the idea to him, or any problem persuading him!
It was decided that I would talk to him with a view toward setting something up for the following Saturday. As we expected, there was no problem—just complete gratitude once Philip was persuaded, first, that Stephanie was on board and, second, that it wasn’t a problem for me. Once that was cleared, and we were set for Saturday, there was no hiding his excitement, or ours!
That week I approached Stephanie several times for sex. I really needed to fuck her, and it was all I could think about. But she simply wouldn’t have it! She was “saving herself” for Philip, she said. She wanted to be totally sexed up and slutty when he took her. The mere fact that my wife was thinking this way had my dick at full mast almost constantly that week. I was jerking off three times a day. I pulled my cock so much, and so hard, I was afraid it would fall off!
Finally the day came. Fuck the “preliminaries”! Stephanie was waiting in the bedroom in a one-piece see-through teddy—tits out of the top, her pussy barely concealed at all. I brought Philip right in, and he immediately drooled at the sight of her.
I grabbed my spot at the foot of the bed, in a chair we brought in for the occasion. In a blink of an eye Philip was on my wife, his hands a blur as he ran them up and down her body. She told me later that she felt like her body was on fire. His hands were rough, which only made her hotter.
Philip dived straight between my wife’s thighs, and suddenly you heard the rip of fabric and her seductive shriek. Panting and squirming, she was being eaten by a masterful tongue, and she let me know it.
It was all I could stand. I pulled out my pecker and pulled and pulled, spewing a creamy load in seconds—but my dick just wouldn’t go down! That’s how intense it was watching my wife arch her back and scream out a piercing cry of joy as she came all over Philip’s face.
Without missing a beat, he turned her over on all fours, with her face directly in front of me. Her hair was a sweaty mess, her eyes glazed—I thought she never looked more beautiful!
As Philip sank his member balls-deep in her, she mouthed “thank you” to me and threw her head back while he banged her into yet another over-the-top release. With his hands firm on her hips, and her head swaying to and fro, I started to stroke myself again, and as Philip quickened his pace, so did I, until finally he grunted and slammed into her cunt one climactic time, sending her shaking.
Her body continued to convulse around his pole, and their faces said it all—and my cock was still as hard as it gets. Nothing could compare with the sight before my eyes. Philip ended up staying over and took Stephanie in various positions. Sometimes I directed; sometimes she did. Whatever the situation, I was hard and loving every second. My wife and her insatiable lover seemed every bit as happy.
Stephanie still sleeps with Philip, but she’s expressed a desire to branch out. And I’m all for it! She asked me the other day if I still needed to look at other women for any reason. I looked at her and said with all the honesty in my heart, “Why would I? I’ve got everything I need standing right before my eyes.” And I do! Thanks to you guys, I’ve never been more fulfilled.
—S.J., Saint Paul, Minnesota
When His Wife Asked if He Was Satisfied, What Could He Do but Lie?
I guess like a lot of other guys, I never believed the stories I read in your pages about men watching and wanting their wives to have sex with strange men—until it happened to me! Eileen and I had been married for a dozen years and had never dabbled in anything as wild as sex outside our marriage, with or without consent. Then one day after we made love, she asked me if I was satisfied. Of course I said I was. I had no wish to upset her.
But I realized that if I were really being honest with myself, I would have to say that things had become pretty matter-of-fact. We were in a sexual slump.
Our lovemaking seemed to be the same old in-and-out, and though we each tried to make sure that the other was satisfied, there were times when I knew that I for one just wanted it over and done with. Now I know that sounds horrible. But let me try to explain.
My wife is a wonderful lady. She’s slightly heavier than when we married, but after three kids that’s to be expected. She’s still a beautiful woman, and I do desire her. That’s not the problem. The problem is that I yearn for something more, something more exciting, something dirty and even downright crude. But how do you say something like that to the woman you love?
I sure didn’t know how. So when Eileen asked, I just responded that everything was fine. She seemed to sigh and turned her back slightly. I asked if she was all right, and she turned toward me, looked me dead in the eye, and asked me if I was sure that there wasn’t something more I wanted sexually. She didn’t wait for me to answer (not that I had an answer ready!), but went on to say that she loved me but was bored with how we’d become, sexually speaking.
My ears perked up, and I leaned on one elbow as she gave me details of some of the things that had been going on in her mind. I have to say, before too long my cock was hard and pointing straight up. She took notice and smiled and licked her lips, then dived right down on it. No hesitation or niceties about it—she just swallowed me whole.
The feeling was amazing. And watching her head bobbing up and down under the sheet only added to the stimulation. Then she snaked a finger in my asshole and played with it. My eyes about popped out of my head, and I came in a quick series of bursts. She didn’t miss a drop of my come, and even came up and kissed me right on the mouth—another first!
“So, did you like it?” she asked afterward, giving me a devilish grin.
“Oh, my!” was about all I could manage to say! I got my breath back slowly, and finally was able to say, “Eileen, whatever got into you, I liked it! I liked it a lot!”
She literally threw her arms around my neck and snuggled close to me. She thanked me for not stopping her, or thinking her actions whorish. Whorish? Call it what you want, all I knew was I
wanted more, and I aimed to have it!
In one motion I pushed her back on the pillows and entered her with a swift thrust. With my hard cock buried to the hilt, she didn’t have time to react, just enjoy. And enjoy she did. She started thrashing about, wrapping her legs around my hips and pulling me closer and tighter. Her eyes found mine, and she started talking trash.
“Feel how tight my cunt is for you, darlin’?” she said. “Stretch me, baby! Yeah, stretch your baby wide! Oh, fuck, yes!”
My mind was reeling. The friction of my cock rubbing against her tight walls only seemed to intensify the filth coming out of her mouth, which in turn had me going over the edge of an explosive orgasm such as I had never known.
I think I actually blacked out for a second, because the next thing I knew I was on my back with my wife riding me like a bronco, or maybe a bull! Her hair was a mess, and stuck to her face—she looked like she was crazed. I had already come, but my cock managed to stay hard, at least hard enough to get her off. She came all over my stomach, and then I felt her vault squeeze more juice out of my softening dick.
I couldn’t believe this was my wife—a simple woman who makes preserves, stitches quilts, and teaches Sunday school! You could have knocked me over with a feather. All I could say for sure was that whoever this was in bed next to me, I hoped she was fixing to stay for a while!
Then we were talking again. Or at least she was talking. I was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened!
Simply put, she said, she wanted to show me how things could be, how she wanted things to be. She only hoped that I would be on board for the ride, and would be willing to explore along with her.
I assured her hell yes, she didn’t have to ask twice! She wanted to know why I hadn’t said anything before, and I told her the truth. I said I hadn’t wanted to upset her. She confessed that she had been holding back for the same reason. Now, for whatever reason, she was done holding back, she said. She just wanted to be uninhibited and fresh and free.
“Not a problem,” I assured her. Actually, I said, it was a relief! And thus began our new world of sexual adventures.
One of my biggest fantasies, now that I allowed myself to acknowledge them, was to watch my beautiful wife getting fucked by another man. The very thought of seeing her lose herself to a stranger made my mouth water and my dick as hard as a brick. Eileen let me set it up, and within two weeks I had a front-row seat as my wife permitted another man to dip his wick in her dripping hole. It was an amazing and intense feeling watching her face contort in wanton lust. She was obviously enjoying herself, and I, too, had a deliciously wicked orgasm as my come seeped onto my fingers when my wife threw her head back and hollered that she was coming.
I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight! And now it has become part of our sexual ritual. I set up the men, and she gets fucked royally while I watch from some darkened corner, either in the closet or outside the bedroom window.
Once, I stayed under the bed and watched the action in the mirror on our dresser. It was erotic in its way, but there wasn’t a lot of room to move around, which meant I really couldn’t jerk off. However, that didn’t stop me from exploding in my pants! It was messy as hell, but it was still plenty enjoyable. And after her lover left, my wife rode me while replaying the experience we had just shared.
This has been a most enjoyable adventure, and now there’s talk of Eileen taking on more than one partner. Wow! Be still, my heart . . . and my cock!
—N.T., Thunder Bay, Ontario
Why, He Wondered, Did His Wife Tell Him to Call Before Coming Home?
I watch my wife fuck around on me, and she hasn’t a clue! It all started when we moved to this rural town. Laurie got tired of city life, with the noise, pollution, and fast pace, and wanted to go back to her roots. She lived on a farm until she left to go to college. City life was exciting at first, but over time it had become stressful.
I met Laurie when we were both working in the same office. Oh, she was a vision: long, dark curls framing an angelic face, with a small upturned nose that had a light dusting of freckles, and a trim, fit body that turned the head of every male in the place.
After a few lunches and dinners, we got close and decided to move in together. She had a bigger place, so I just moved in with her. Things were wonderful. We were both very successful, and we both made a ton of money. Sex was never a problem. Each time we were together, we acted like two high school kids fucking for the first time.
It was a purely magical time. She could do things to my cock that I never dreamed of. Her feathery touch set off tingles that coursed through my body and made my toes curl. After three years we got married, and things only seemed to get better. We were both rising up the corporate ladder, and it didn’t bruise my ego that she was always a step ahead of me. Life couldn’t have gotten any better. We decided early on that we didn’t want children, at least not till later. We traveled all over the world and made lifelong friends along the way.
Perfect, right?
About two years ago things changed. Laurie started getting stressed out and was moody all the time. She said everything was okay, but I could tell different. I knew my wife. Finally, on a particularly bad day for her, she blurted out that she had had enough. She was ranting about the city and work and the noise. Everything under the sun was driving her crazy.
I had the bad sense to ask her if it was “that time of the month.” Big mistake! The shoe coming in my direction told me I’d overstepped the line.
I went to comfort her. At first she tried to pull away, but once I started to kiss her forehead and rock her, it all came out. Her words hurtled out so fast that she started to stutter. I told her to slow down, I could hardly understand her. That’s when she laid it on the line. She was sick to death of city life and needed to move back to the quiet she’d known as a child.
Just like that I went from city slicker to country bumpkin. Okay, not entirely. I’d kept my job in the city while Laurie took some time off. We were financially secure enough to do that. However, I needed to work. It was in my blood, and Laurie understood that. So we compromised. And for a while it all seemed to work out.
Then I had a tough new account that required close handling over an extended period. So I had to spend some nights in the city. It was just easier than going back and forth. Up till now, when this happened Laurie had been very understanding. Each night I wasn’t home I’d call her just before I went to bed and we’d say good night. I’d miss her and she’d miss me, and when I got home, we’d show each other just how much.
During this period I found myself having to stay away from home more often than before. Again, Laurie knew the demands of my job, and seemed to go with the flow.
Then came a Friday when the only time I could meet with the client was on Saturday. I called Laurie and told her. I said I didn’t know what time I’d be able to get out of the city, and there was a chance I might have to stay over Saturday night. She said she’d miss me and would see me when I got home.
I said, “I’ll get there just as soon as I can.”
She said, “Okay, call first to make sure I’m here.”
And then we hung up. It wasn’t till a few minutes later that it dawned on me how strange this was. Why would I call home before heading there? I’d never done that! But as quickly as I had the thought, that’s how quickly it went out of my mind.
I met with the client on Saturday. We had a marathon session, but by three that afternoon he was satisfied on all particulars! I was amazed and delighted to have accomplished all of that, and so quickly.
As I prepared to set out on the long drive, those odd words of Laurie’s suddenly came back to me: Call first. I did, but she didn’t answer. So I left a message, saying that I’d finished up earlier than expected and was on my way home.
All through the drive, my mind focused on the fucking I was going to give my sexy wife when I walked through the door. I was unbelievably horny, and the closer I got to home, the
harder my cock got. I imagined bending Laurie over the piano in the living room and reaming her tight pussy from behind. I love taking her that way. I hoped she’d been working in the garden so she’d have that sweaty sheen I love so much.
As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed Rudy the handyman’s truck there. Laurie had asked him to help put in some trees and do some landscaping. Rudy is a great guy. He and Laurie knew each other when they were kids. He lived on a farm about a mile from our place and made his living landscaping and farming.
I left my briefcase in the car and walked into the house and called for Laurie. When she didn’t answer, I went to the kitchen to get a cold beer and wait for her. In the kitchen I heard noise overhead, which threw me and caused me to look up. Over the kitchen is the guest room, and I couldn’t imagine why I would be hearing voices there.
I listened some more and confirmed that someone was talking up there. Figuring it was Laurie, I went upstairs and made my way to the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and through it I heard what sounded like gasping and moaning. My first thought was that Laurie was getting herself off, and that thought made me hard as hell. My second thought was that she should have closed the door in case Rudy came by, so he didn’t catch her in an embarrassing situation.
As I moved closer, I loosened my tie. I was excited at the prospect of what lay beyond that door. I was about to stick my head in when Laurie yelled out that she was coming. Then a male voice cried out, “Oh, God, baby! Damn, you’re so tight!”
It took all of three seconds to register. I knew now that Rudy was fucking my wife, and she was enjoying the hell out of it. I leaned back against the wall and tried to collect my thoughts. My mind was reeling. I could bust in and beat the hell out of him, punch his lights out. Or run in there and demand to know what the hell was going on. But my feet wouldn’t move.
Letters to Penthouse XXXIV Page 7