Letters to Penthouse XXXIV
Page 11
Jeannine kissed me as she told me this, saying that she couldn’t believe how much she had liked having all those hands on her body, touching her, undressing her, squeezing her breasts, pulling on her hard nipples, playing with her butt and pussy. She said she had felt like a total slut, and loved it, by the time Eddie pulled out an old mattress and laid it down on the concrete floor.
Jeannine told me how exciting it had been to be naked in front of Eddie and his crew. She had even helped them undress. She said she’d been in heaven, her tight pussy dripping with lust as she saw how big and hard their cocks were.
I went down on her and began eating her out as she told me how she got on her knees and sucked their stiff cocks, one after the other. At one point she was sucking Eddie while holding two other cocks in her hands. Eddie blasted come into her mouth, while George sprayed his jism on her face, and the other guy, Ronnie, shot all over her tits. By that time her pussy was quivering with desire, wanting desperately to be filled.
At that point she fell over onto her back and let Ronnie and George hold her legs wide open, while Eddie got into place to be the first to fuck her. She couldn’t believe how good his big cock felt as all of it slowly disappeared inside her. The next thing she knew Eddie was going to town, making her sopping pussy slurp with joy.
Then she got another treat as the fourth man, Crawford, a huge black guy, brought his hot cock to her mouth. Eddie had a good-size hunk of meat, she said, but Crawford was a few inches longer and twice as thick. She said it was like a big black baseball bat throbbing in her mouth.
Jeannine told me how she came as Eddie filled her hot pussy with his spunk. Then he and Crawford traded places. She told me how hot she was after Eddie had fucked her. When he put his spent cock up to her mouth, she eagerly licked it clean of their juices, loving every minute.
She was just starting to get Eddie hard again when she felt Crawford get between her legs. Knowing how big he was, she spread herself open as much as she could, and she almost came again when she felt his hands clutching her butt, lifting her to get her cream-filled pussy lined up with his huge black tool. My wife loved feeling that big thing going deep inside her as Eddie got hard again in her mouth. Crawford started fucking her hard with long, fast strokes.
Jeannine was still sucking Eddie’s cock, her moans muffled by its mass as Crawford plunged in and out of her. Eddie came in her mouth, and she was still swallowing his come when Crawford said he wanted her to ride him. Jeannine loved the idea of being on top, and with Eddie’s come dripping off her chin she climbed up onto Crawford’s chest, reaching behind her to take his horselike dick into her hand. Once more she almost came as she guided that big slimy thing to her happy honeypot. She felt a thrill of pride when she managed to take almost the whole thing with her first thrust, and soon she found herself totally impaled on that massive ebony spear, crying out with joy as her wet pussy lips wrapped around the base of it.
I continued eating her out as my horny wife told me how she had started to pump up and down, caressing that hot black pole with her squirming twat. The other guys gathered around and again she found her mouth filled with cock, and another hard cock in each of her hands. She continued to ride Crawford’s dick for the longest time, having one orgasm after another, and all the while the others kept her busy pleasuring them.
Eventually Crawford came in buckets, filling her with his hot cream. She loved feeling that big thing going soft inside her. When she slid off Crawford’s body, Ronnie lay down on his back and pulled her on top of him. As she guided his nine inches into her creamy pussy, George moved up behind her and stuck his only slightly smaller tool into her happy butt. Jeannine said it felt so naughty to be taking one guy up her butt while another fucked her dripping cunt that it wasn’t long before she was coming again.
Jeannine had such a good time at her surprise party that not only did she give in to her desires after that, but she became totally wild. For the last two months she has been going to the garage every Friday night. Lately she has been coming home on Saturday morning and telling me how the guys have taken her to a party, where more and more men have joined in. Last week she told me she had taken on at least twenty men.
She loves it so much that I can only encourage her to keep on going. It makes me happy to know how much fun she is having, being a slut with other men. And I always look forward to the fantastic sex we have when they finally bring her home.
—D.F., Chicago, Illinois
This Big Black Man Spoke Her Language in More Ways Than One
I’m a 35-year-old Spanish teacher at a small school in the Southwest. I am five-feet-four inches tall, with black shoulder-length hair and D-cup breasts capped with very large areolae. I speak Spanish fluently, and I am dark enough so that when I visit Mexico as a tourist, I am often taken for a local.
I have been married to a wonderful man for a little over ten years, and while our sex life is good, it isn’t really what it used to be. Which brings me to my story.
There are many Spanish and Mexican restaurants in our area, and I enjoy frequenting them whenever I can, not only because I love the food, but also because I enjoy conversing with the wait staff in Spanish. Howard, my husband, doesn’t really like the food that much, and until recently didn’t speak a word of Spanish, but he would often come along simply because I asked him to.
There is one particular Mexican restaurant not far from the campus, which I often went to by myself for lunch. The food was not bad, but another attraction for me was a very good-looking black waiter named Jean Paul, who was quite fluid in Spanish. I enjoyed conversing with Jean Paul, and he seemed to be more than happy to indulge my appetite for speaking the language.
Occasionally I would find myself flirting with Jean Paul in my second language, just to add a little spice to our conversation. If I was wearing a low-cut blouse or top, I would bend over teasingly sometimes, to give him a good view. I had never been with a black man, and I told myself I had no real desire to cheat on my husband, but there was something about this man that really got me going. Maybe it was the smoothness with which he spoke my favorite language—or maybe it was his rock-hard 26-year-old body. But whatever it was, he was a definite turn-on.
One evening about a week ago, my husband and I decided to go out to dinner to celebrate my upcoming birthday. I wasn’t sure where we were going, and I was surprised when Howard pulled into the parking lot at the Mexican restaurant where Jean Paul worked. Smiling at me, he told me that since it was my birthday we were celebrating, he wanted me to have the kind of dinner I would most enjoy.
We walked in and were seated in a corner booth. A few moments later Jean Paul appeared from the back and came straight to our table. Smiling at him, I introduced him to Howard, and he attempted to speak to him in Spanish. Howard just shrugged and apologized, explaining that I was the only Spanish speaker at the table, and Jean Paul smilingly switched to English.
There was something strangely unsettling about watching Jean Paul speaking to my husband. After all, this was the young black stud that I had been flirting with and fantasizing about for months now. In fact, I had even gone so far as to seek out one of those seedy novelty stores at the edge of town, where I had purchased one of those huge black rubber dongs that look and feel like the real thing. I enjoyed waking from my weekend nap and riding that large black dildo, while dreaming about what Jean Paul might be like in bed.
I started to get really horny as I thought about this, and I was caught off guard when Jean Paul turned to me and said in Spanish, “Is my zipper down?”
“What?” I said, surprised. Jean Paul had caught me staring at his crotch in a daze. “No,” I hastened to reply to him, in Spanish. “No, your fly is not down. I was just thinking about something.”
Jean Paul, knowing that my husband couldn’t understand what we were saying, now became bold. “I can see from your eyes what you desire,” he said, smiling at me. “And I cannot serve this to you here in front of your husband.”
Jean Paul smiled again. “Ten inches long and nearly seven inches around,” he answered in the same language. “I assure you that it will definitely fill you up!”
“My, my,” I said. “That’s a lot of food!”
“Oh, excuse me,” Jean Paul said, his eyes dancing. “I thought you were asking about something else.”
“Stop that,” I said, trying to look stern. “I am out with my husband, you know.” Jean Paul apologized smoothly, saying that he had just gotten carried away. He had never been so bold before in our conversations, and I was a bit taken aback by it, but I supposed there was no harm done—except that my panties were now soaked through.
Howard and I enjoyed our meal—I somewhat more than he, I’m afraid—and afterward I waited at the table while Howard went up to the cash register to pay the bill. He talked with Jean Paul for a few minutes before returning to the table and escorting me out. On the drive home, Howard asked about Jean Paul, saying that he seemed like a nice fellow. I agreed that he was, secretly wondering if his description of his “enchilada” could possibly have been true.
“He seemed to really like your big boobs,” Howard said.
“What?” I said, surprised.
“Well, when you were talking to him at the table, your nipples were damn near ripping through your shirt,” Howard said. “I’m just saying that he appeared to enjoy the view.”
“Well, I hope he did,” I said pertly. “Now can we just get home so I can shower and get ready for the fun part of this date?” I was really longing for a good fuck by now, and I felt that if he didn’t shut up about Jean Paul, I might just blurt out to him what Jean Paul had said to me in the restaurant.
Then I remembered that Howard had once told me that he sometimes fantasized about me fucking a black guy while he watched. Of course I didn’t take that seriously—I was a teacher, after all, and couldn’t act on such nasty thoughts. Although that didn’t keep me from pretending sometimes with that big dong that I keep hidden away in the closet. Upon our arrival home, I told Howard that I was going to take a hot bath and then join him in the bedroom for a romp. Howard smiled and said he would be waiting. After a nice long bath, I put on my sexiest nightie and headed for the bedroom. Upon entering, I saw Howard smiling, holding up a blindfold.
“What’s that for?” I asked curiously.
“Well, it is your birthday,” Howard replied, “and I’ve brought you a gift. I’m going to put this on you so that I can present it properly, without you seeing it before it’s ready.”
Thinking how sweet my husband was, always trying to make me happy, I readily agreed to be blindfolded. Howard fastened the dark cloth over my eyes and then left the room, saying he would be back in a minute.
It wasn’t much more than that before he returned, and I felt him get on the bed beside me and kiss my neck. I began to get wet when he kissed his way down to my chest. He then slid the straps of my nightie off and let my large breasts swing free. Gently he kissed and nibbled at my nipples.
I was now at the point where I really needed a cock—any cock. I told Howard to take off my blindfold so that I could see my present, hoping at this point that it would be him, standing in front of me with his hard cock in his hand, waiting for me to swallow it. Howard moved behind me then and untied the blindfold. As he slowly removed it I blinked my eyes, and as my vision cleared I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. For standing right there at the foot of my bed, staring at my bare chest, was Jean Paul! “What’s going on?” I demanded, when my astonishment had abated enough to allow me to speak.
Howard smiled at me. “Well,” he said, “I have been going with you to these Mexican restaurants for a while now, and finally I thought it would be a nice thing if I tried to learn some Spanish, so I could talk to you in your favorite language. I’ve been studying in my free time, and though I still can’t speak it all that well, I can understand quite a bit. So when I put together your conversation at the dinner table tonight, I asked Jean Paul here if he would like to come over and feed you the enchilada that you expressed such an interest in!”
I could only stare at him as I remembered him speaking to Jean Paul at the cash register. My head was swirling. I had not been with another man since I met my husband, but here I was, sitting topless on my bed, with Jean Paul standing right in front of me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hit Howard or kiss him. But I was sure of one thing: I wanted Jean Paul’s cock.
“All right,” I said finally, and a little breathlessly. “But it will be just this one time, Howard, and we will never do anything like this again! All right?”
“Anything you say, darling,” Howard said.
So now it was time to see if the reality measured up to Jean Paul’s boasts. I reached for his slacks with slightly trembling hands, and slowly pulled down his zipper. Reaching in, I felt something I couldn’t believe. I undid the clasp and let his slacks fall to the floor, revealing a cock almost a foot long, and so big and thick that I couldn’t fit my hand around it.
“Oh, my God!” I said. “It’s just amazing!”
Jean Paul smiled and said, “I told you it would fill you up!”
I took that cock in both hands then, marveling at its size. I got off the bed and slid down to my knees on the floor, no longer feeling in control of my own body. I lifted his heavy cock and touched it to my lips. I was in heaven! Slowly I took the huge head into my panting mouth and proceeded to suck and lick it with great passion, trying to take his dick deeper. I began jacking him off with both hands, wanting him to come now, desperately needing him to unload down my throat, but he wouldn’t. I felt his large hands tangling in my hair as I sucked his massive meat harder and harder.
“Please!” I demanded, pulling my mouth from him. “Fill my mouth with your sweet come!”
But he didn’t. Instead he bent down and whispered into my ear, “I have wanted to slide my dick between those huge tits since I first laid eyes on you.”
“Then fuck them, Jean Paul!” I whimpered. “Fuck them good, and then come in my mouth!” Saying this, I felt like a slut, and at that moment that was what I wanted to be. Jean Paul pulled me up and laid me back on the bed, and I pushed my big globes together. He straddled my waist and slipped his monster meat between them, sliding it back and forth, as I lowered my head to receive the tip of it in my mouth with every forward stroke. This went on for five minutes before Jean Paul finally erupted. Huge long streams of come flew out of his enormous prick, covering my boobs, my face, and the wall behind me.
I was in shock. I had never seen so much come in my life! Furthermore, I could see that Jean Paul’s cock was still hard. I was used to Howard’s average-size dick quickly fading away after one of my blowjobs, to be useless for the rest of the evening. But Jean Paul’s tool wanted more.
Jean Paul now rolled over and lay down on his back, his gigantic prick pointing at the ceiling. I quickly straddled him and began to feed his monster into my now-dripping pussy. Slowly I sank down on it, taking it in inch by inch. At about the halfway point I came, and came hard. And after a few more inches I came again. I started pumping up and down then, taking him in deeper and deeper, and coming harder and harder.
When I finally became aware that he was about to let go of another load, I leaned forward to kiss him. Then, letting my large boobs swing against his face, I told him in Spanish that I wanted him to fill my cunt with his come, which he promptly did. I rolled off him then, and we all went to sleep, exhausted.
Howard had left for work when I awoke the next morning, but Jean Paul was lying there next to me. I stuck my head under the covers and began to suck his soft cock. In no time at all it was standing tall in all its glory. I sucked on that glorious dick for
what seemed like an hour before he erupted in my mouth, giving me more come than I could swallow. I then let him pound my pussy for another hour before he exploded again. What a way to wake up!
I had meant it when I said that this encounter was to be just a one-time thing. As a teacher and a married woman, I could not go on indulging in such behavior. However, I still have the pleasure of having a big black cock stuffed into my hungry pussy at least once a week or so. Then, when I’m finished, I wash it off carefully and hide it back in the closet so it won’t be discovered.
—R.C., Phoenix, Arizona
In the End, She’s Happy Her Cheating Husband Stepped Out on Her
My story just might make some of you married men out there think twice about cheating on your wife.
I’m a 37-year-old woman who has been married to an average man for 17 years. We have two sons, who are my pride and joy. Recently I found out that my husband has been having an affair with some young bitch at work. I seriously considered divorcing him when I found out, but shopping around, I found it isn’t cheap to get a divorce, which would also devastate my boys emotionally and financially.
So I opted for Plan B: to go and get me another cock to play with! It works out better for all of us. Daddy and the boys don’t have to know what Momma is doing behind closed doors.
I wasn’t sure when or who it was going to be with, but I knew it was going to happen, so the first thing I did was get back on the pill. Then I went on a cock hunt. I meant to be patient and make it worth my while, but I was hunting nonetheless.
My boss has long come on to me and would be an easy fuck, but I wasn’t crazy about the sexual stamina of a 41-year-old husband, so a 48-year-old boss didn’t seem a much better proposition. I figured if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. Someone younger, who still had a high level of testosterone. Anyone good-looking between 20 and 32 who could keep a secret sounded about right.