One night after closing I finished cashing out and went down to the stockroom to check on Sara, who was taking stock of our latest lingerie items. I found her closely examining one of our frilly black lace teddies, running the thin fabric through her fingers. A thousand fantasies I’d had about seeing her tight little body in something like that came flooding into my mind.
Sara smiled at me as I approached, and held up the teddy for me to see. “You know,” she said, “I hope I’m not way out of line here, but the thing is, as nice as these are, they’re just not right.”
I was totally confused, and asked her what she meant. Asking if she could be honest, she proceeded to tell me that she felt most women nowadays wanted to feel outrageously sexy, even slutty, in the bedroom, and that this type of garment, while effective in its time, was now, in her opinion, kind of obsolete.
Somewhat taken aback, I managed to ask her, in that case, what kind of thing she thought was a viable alternative. Smiling wickedly, she said she was very glad I’d asked. She led me over to where she had stashed her things and pulled out one of her sketchbooks. Opening it up, she then showed me several drawings of various kinds of lingerie, which she’d obviously put a lot of time into. All these designs were extremely revealing, even bordering on the obscene, although they were very well done and highly enticing, each in its own seductive way.
When I found one particular design that really blew my mind, all I could do was stare. When Sara saw me gazing at the drawing, she asked me point-blank if I especially liked that design. When I nodded, she placed her delicate fingers on my thigh. “Good,” she said softly. “I was hoping you would go for that one. Would you like to see it up close on me?”
I nearly passed out at her words. Not getting any response, she asked again. All I could do was nod my head. Sara then pulled a small box from under the table, saying that she hoped I wouldn’t mind, but she had sent her design in to one of the market companies that did spec work, and had them make it up for her. As she pulled it from the box, it looked like a kind of erotic jigsaw puzzle. Playfully Sara held it up in front of her. Then, saying she would be right back, she padded her hot little ass to a nearby fitting room.
When she returned minutes later, wearing the tiny little garment and nothing else, my jaw hit the floor, and I literally had to sit down. She was a gorgeous vision, just as I had known she would be. The usual elevator blandness of the piped-in store music in the background had been replaced by a techno beat, to which Sara brazenly ground her scantily clad body as I watched.
Sara then proceeded to tell me that she wanted to be my slut, and to have me introduce her to the world of sex. Slipping her lithe body into my arms, she begged me to show her how to be the bad girl of her most sordid dreams. Pulling aside a bit of mesh fabric, she offered me an exposed tit, and I hungrily devoured it. Then, laying her on a nearby sofa, I began playing with her bare pussy lips and eating her to climax after climax.
Delicious as she was, I longed to feel her lips wrapped around my hard cock, and when she finally did begin to feed from my staff and lap at my hanging ball sack, it was as glorious as any dream I’d ever imagined. Looking into those gorgeous brown eyes while she serviced me was the ultimate turn-on, and when I finally came in long spurts, she greedily swallowed, gulping down my entire slippery offering.
I tenderly played with her little butt as she sucked me back to hardness. Then she spread her thighs and begged me to fuck her and finally make her the slut she longed to be.
By now, of course, I was fully aware that my supposedly innocent little Sara was at least as experienced as I was, and probably more so. Her pleas to be initiated into the world of sex were part of her cute little act, but who was I to deny her? Before the night was over, this old geezer had fucked the young hottie five times, ending when she presented her ass to me in a very inviting manner and begged me to fuck it. She claimed it was her first time that way, but she certainly took to it with wonderful enthusiasm. As did I.
Since that amazing night, Sara and I have developed a wonderful and unique relationship, which continues to take the most exciting twists and turns. Recently she began introducing her roommate Joy, a very cute blonde, into our adventurous journeys. We try to do something hot and different as often as we can. Sara’s sexy mind never ceases to amaze me, and never disappoints. Just last evening, at her urgent suggestion, I took the two girls to a strip club for an amateur stripping competition. It was a hell of a night, and it ended with the girls performing exclusively for me in the confines of my bedroom.
I fully realize that this improbable situation will eventually come to an end. In the meantime, however, I am loving every second of it, and I am stockpiling mementos and memories which I hope will keep me warm and fuzzy in the long lonely years to come.
—Name and address withheld
HE HAD A THING FOR OLDER WOMEN,
AND THIRTY-SIX WAS CLOSE ENOUGH
When I was around eighteen, I used to wonder what it would be like to fuck an older woman. I would always fantasize about doing it with a female in her thirties, forties, or fifties. The more I fantasized, the more I wished it would come true.
When I was twenty-one I got a job at a bus manufacturing plant. Soon after I started working there, I saw a good-looking dark-haired lady walking down one of the aisles. She was at least thirty-five, maybe more, and she was wearing a very tight, low-cut stretch shirt that showed off her big beautiful tits to perfection. It also showed that she didn’t have a bra on, because her nipples were sticking out against the fabric of the shirt, and appeared to be half an inch long. I told the guy I was working with that I would love to fuck that woman just once.
My fantasy started to come true when I was assigned to drive a forklift on the job. One day a woman flagged me down, wanting me to move some parts for her, and when I stopped beside her I saw that it was the older woman I wanted to fuck so bad. We introduced ourselves and talked a little bit. Her name was Rosalie, and she was sweet and friendly and sexy as hell. After that I started helping her move things every chance I got, and then one day I jokingly said that I was going to have to start charging her for all the help I gave her. She knew I was kidding, but to my surprise she offered to buy me a beer one night to thank me. When I accepted, she told me to come to her house that Friday night.
When I got there she said we would take her car and find a place to drink. When she told me she was thirty-six years old, fifteen years older than me, my dick started getting hard. I didn’t know how she felt about me until she stopped at a stop sign in the middle of nowhere. Before I knew what was happening she leaned over and started kissing me. I kissed her back eagerly, but I couldn’t wait to get my hands and lips on her beautiful tits. I could only hope she wouldn’t get mad when I started to squeeze and suck on her boobs, but that’s when I realized that my fantasy was finally going to become a reality. Within seconds she was moaning her approval. When I put my hand on her pussy and started to rub it, she told me she was going to find someplace to park.
She drove to a nearby park and stopped the car under some trees. As soon as she turned off the engine, she slid across the seat to me and we started to kiss and squeeze each other everywhere. Unbuttoning her blouse, I finally got to see her beautiful tits in a black lacy bra. She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra and let it fall away from her. Her tits were so big and beautiful and firm, it was hard to believe she was only four years away from forty, and had four kids, a couple of them teenagers.
While I squeezed and licked her tits she managed to pull her pants and pantyhose all the way off. It was obvious that she liked to fuck young hard cock. After she pulled my pants off, she straddled me and sat on my lap with her tits in my face and her hot, hairy pussy rubbing against my dick. She was getting really hot and horny with all the touching and kissing we were doing.
Then, with one of her tits in my hand and the other in my mouth, she slowly lowered her hot, wet pussy all the way down on my cock. I couldn’t believe how
good my dick felt in her hot snatch. As she started fucking me, I kept on squeezing and licking her tits and nipples. I couldn’t seem to get enough of them. Pulling my face between her luscious mounds, she started fucking me harder until we both came.
I didn’t want to stop fucking her, but she had to get home to her family. The next time I saw her at work my dick got hard from thinking about how well this beautiful, big-titted thirty-six-year-old woman could fuck. After that I fucked her every chance I got for the next seven years, until I changed jobs.
—K.L., Kansas City, Missouri
WOMEN CHANGE ALL THE TIME, AND YOU CAN’T
ALWAYS FIGURE OUT THE REASON
A few years ago I bought my then-wife Diana a new Cadillac. She thought it was great, but after she got it she changed. She dressed more provocatively and started spending a lot of time away from home. Now, this might have happened anyway, and maybe it had nothing to do with the car, though it happened right after I bought it for her. But you never know. Women change all the time, and you can’t always figure out the reason.
Diana was a very sensual blonde. She looked good and she moved well and she smelled good. She could walk into a room and have men hovering around her in minutes. She knew what to do to arouse men, including me.
In the following days my wife disappeared more and more often, and for longer periods of time. Once she was gone all night. She had a story about having had too much to drink and falling asleep on the couch of a friend. I became paranoid and started snooping around. I found underwear in her drawers that I had never seen her wear. I found a large black dildo I hadn’t known about. And then one day I found the Cadillac I had given her in the parking area of a condo complex. She and some strange guy were inside it, and they were making out like hell.
The next day I took the Cadillac back to the dealership and told them that I was not going to make any more payments on a car for my wife’s lover to drive. The dealership was unsympathetic and sued me for the amount owed. Then the car was taken and sold to another woman.
I found out that the new buyer of the car was a pretty woman named Rhonda, who worked for an airline. I looked into this Rhonda and decided to pursue her. You ask why? I got a charge out of driving the Cadillac around with the new owner in the passenger seat. I drove that car hard.
On one of our early dates we drove into the mountains and over a mountain pass. Near the top of the pass, I pulled over and led Rhonda into the woods, where I threw down a blanket and we had sex.
Rhonda turned out to be a great lay and an enthusiastic fuck. After fucking her for a couple of hours in the open air, I took her to a mountain resort, where I rented a quaint room in a historic “gingerbread” house, and there I pounded her pussy well into the night.
Rhonda and I fucked a lot after that. She had an amazing ability to spread her legs really wide. She also had an unbelievably wet pussy. Of all the women I have screwed in my life, I look back on Rhonda as the one with the wettest pussy.
But the thing is, like I said, women change. Despite anything they might say, and regardless of any promises they may make, they always change their minds. They think that they have the right to do that. And even though they may say that they don’t ever want to get married, sooner or later—usually sooner—they all do. Men think that they should keep their promises, and women expect men to, but they themselves think they can abandon their promises with impunity anytime they happen to change their minds.
For months I spent many nights in Rhonda’s fancy silk bed, and in her juicy cunt. I became obsessed with that body, with how flexible it was, how far I could spread her legs and bend her backwards. At first Rhonda swore up and down that she never wanted to get married. Then she started introducing me to her family—her mother, and then her brother. Next she started talking about families, and then children; and then she came right out and said she wanted to get married. I tell you, they all change.
Oh well, she was a great fuck while it lasted.
—F.B., Tulsa, Oklahoma
IN THIS FAMILY HE’S THE SLUT, TRYING TO
BE WORTHY OF HIS BEAUTIFUL BABE
Let me start out by saying I’ve written this letter before and didn’t send it. But after reading some of the other letters in Penthouse Letters, I’ve decided to share my life and my wife of twenty-three years with you.
To begin with I was the slut. I would screw anything that would stand still long enough for me to pack my eight-inch cock in. I started jacking off about the time I started waking up under the tent! I know now that that’s what made it grow with a slight curve in it.
Oh, I remember causing a fuss when I screwed the maid, and about that same time I had a friend who gave me blowjobs. And that’s not all. I was turned on to pot and alcohol around those same years. Man, was I screwed up or what?
Okay, enough about me. Let me tell you about my beautiful babe. She’s forty-one now, blonde, five feet six, about a hundred twenty-five pounds, with a beautiful smile, a cute ass, long legs, and beautiful reconstructed breasts. She’s the mother of three awesome kids.
She is my best friend. She’s a great cook, and she gives good head. By the way, when we first got married, she wouldn’t think of putting my cock in her mouth. She still won’t swallow my come, but she says one day she’ll surprise me and do it! I tell you, what more could a man ask for?
She had let many guys finger her before we were married, and she told me that several times she got undressed and close. But only once did she go all the way, so only one other guy has put a cock in my babe’s pussy. I knew of the guy, and last year I sent him some close-ups of her pussy now, the same pussy that he had got some twenty-five years ago.
I’m the slut, like I said. I cheated on her and then told her. Man, that broke her heart. It’s not like I came right out and told her. She asked—and I couldn’t lie and live with the guilt. But she still believes in me, and our love has grown deeper through the tough times.
My babe says I’ve taught her a lot in bed and life. When we first got married, her tight little cunt would rub me raw. Now after three kids and having sex weekly, she can handle a whole lot more than I can give her, and I’ve told her as much on many occasions. I thought that she might want to get back at me for stepping out on her, but she says she doesn’t.
I gave her the okay if she wanted to, with just this one condition. I said, “You must make them eat your pussy first.” You see, my babe always keeps her cunt neatly trimmed and fresh, ’cause she knows how I like to eat her. And I always tell her how good she is, and how I would love to let someone watch us in action, knowing deep down I would really like to watch her in action.
I’ve told her women can have several orgasms, but I’ve never been able to get her past one. At times when we’re making love and I can’t seem to last long, I’ll say, “Baby, I need help with all this pussy.”
Sometimes she’ll reply, “Who do you want to get?”
I get a hard-on just thinking about it. But I don’t want her to get hurt or start something that would cause me to lose her.
She’s let me take some nude photos, of which I’ve purposely left some lying around to show off my babe’s beauty. I know she could have made the Pet of the Year when she was younger.
For guys that would like to stick their cock in their wife’s back door and don’t know how to start, I began by taking her juices on my fingers while making love and gently rubbing that bud. I found she loved it. We did that for a while. Each time I would go a little more.
One night I used some lube with my little finger. She kept saying, “What are you doing to me?” But I could tell she didn’t want me to stop. If she wanted me to, I would have honored that.
Another night, after several glasses of wine and about ten minutes in the bed, I started rubbing her bud with my head and asked if we could just try it. She said okay, but I could only get my head in it. After a few strokes, it was so hot, I shot my load quickly up in her ass.
Her only reply was, “Do
n’t get used to it!”
Again, I kept telling her how good it was. Now she always wants the finger. And this past Valentine’s Day she happened to be on her period pretty heavy, and after returning home from a romantic evening she started giving me some head, and said she wanted to give me some pussy so bad, but it was going to be so messy.
I said, “How about something else?” and started undressing her and rubbing her bud.
She said, “Let’s get some juice and try it.” And with that, we did! I started slow and easy. I was able to get over half my cock up in her easily. She loved it. We made passionate love, and when we climaxed we had explosive orgasms together.
As you’ve read, we’ve had some awesome experiences together. But I still have fantasies. My babe’s starting to get interested in getting a personal trainer. I suggested a male. I’ve gotten males to give her massages before.
You might say I’m crazy for thinking these thoughts. But you might be the lucky bastard who gets to experience some of what I’ve had for twenty-three years. I was raised to share my toys.
—C.B., Columbia, Tennessee
THE MOTHER OF THE BRIDE GIVES THE FOUR
GROOMSMEN A RIDE THEY WON’T FORGET
Like a lot of people, I never thought I would be writing one of these letters, but here I find myself sitting at my laptop trying to find the words to describe what happened recently.
Our daughter, Donna, got married a few months ago. Donna is an only child. So needless to say, her mother and I wanted everything to be special and perfect. In the weeks and months leading up to the wedding, Juliet spent almost every free minute she had working to make sure everything would be absolutely perfect and go off without a hitch.
Letters to Penthouse XXVII Page 12