The CWs returned the kickoff to the champs’ thirty-yard line, but with only ten seconds left. They could either go for a long tying field goal or go for broke—and the win. Holly, sitting in my lap, flinched when the field-goal team came out.
“Come on,” she shouted, “you got nothing to lose.”
But when the ball was snapped, the holder caught it, stood up, and tossed a beautiful pass toward the end zone. I was as shocked as anyone as I watched the ball spiral downfield.
To my surprise, Holly seemed excited too. I could swear she muttered something like, “Please, dear God, let him catch it!” When the reception was made and time ran out on the Clueless Wonders’ first and only win of the season, she heaved what felt like a sigh of relief. Then she turned and French-kissed me. Not the usual French kiss, but one of those wet, wild ones, sexy as hell.
The final score was 49-45, and so it was time for me to choose one of the boys for Holly to have sex with. Our living room had gone wild—and then, all at once, very silent, when the boys realized that the bet wasn’t over, that in fact things were just about to get interesting.
Holly hugged me hard. She was crying. “It’s all right, Hol,” I whispered. “It’s only sex. You can do it quick.”
I was about to say that of course I would never force her when she hissed, “Goddamn it, Luke, that’s not why I’m crying. I’m just sorry for the boys I don’t get to fuck.”
It took a moment for that to sink in. “Honey,” I said, “would it make you happy if I chose all of them for you?”
“All five, Luke?” she said. “You really wouldn’t mind?”
“Only if you want,” I said. “Of course, to be technical, it’s six of us. Don’t forget me.”
“Yes, of course, six,” she said, smiling. “And I’m usually so good at math!”
Wiping her eyes, my wife stood up and looked at the boys, who were still waiting to see who I’d picked as the lucky winner. I saw from their bulging pants that they were all eager.
“I like you all,” Holly said, “and there’s no way I could let Luke choose one of you.”
The men’s faces dropped.
“So he’s agreed to let me have all of you,” she said. “But only one at a time. Also, since I’m on the pill, there’s no need for you to use condoms, unless you insist.”
Smiles returned to the boys’ faces. I bet they were doubly pleased not to have to use condoms. Holly held out a hand to the boy whose lap she’d been sitting on and led him to our bedroom.
I was pretty sure she hadn’t been with anyone else while we were married, but I was also pretty sure she’d been with a lot of guys before. I never asked, figuring that her life before me was her business. But as the boys shuttled in and out of the bedroom, one after another, I wondered if I had unleashed some part of my wife that I would regret. At the same time, I had the evidence of my raging cock to prove that I had never been more excited in my life.
After I said good-bye to the last of the boys, I locked the door for the night and headed for the bedroom. I undressed and lay beside Holly, waiting to see how she felt and to find out what she was thinking.
She kissed me and said, “Darling, thank you for letting me have this experience. It really was so special having sex with these boys who are all good friends. I realized it was you I was waiting for all evening. Would you believe, I feel as if I just got in bed? Please make love to me like it was our first time.”
All the same, in the morning our conversation drifted to when we might do it all again. And Holly already had ideas about trying it with men we didn’t know.
As a footnote: The boys all came over the following weekend on their own and helped me finish the deck. We devised a unique way of using our manpower. There were never more than five men working outside; the sixth man was assigned to the bedroom detail. Holly says that it’s me she wants to fuck, but the other boys help raise her libido.
—L.O., Tempe, Arizona
HER JOB TOOK HER A LONG WAY FROM HER
HUSBAND, AND HER BIG BLACK NEIGHBOR
TOOK HER EVEN FARTHER
I work for a major corporation, and like many women in business, I feel that I have to work twice as hard as a man in order to get ahead. I have spent many years struggling to climb the corporate ladder, so I was very frustrated when my boss offered me a big promotion and my dream job, heading a division in Los Angeles. The frustration came from the fact that my husband Peter had a good career in New York, where we lived, and I knew he wouldn’t be in a position to relocate. We also had two children, a daughter starting college and a son in high school. I was incredibly upset at the knowledge that now that all the years of hard work, late nights, and weekends at the office had finally paid off, I wouldn’t be able to accept the promotion.
When I got home that night, Peter could see that I was agitated, so he asked me what was wrong and I unloaded my frustrations on him. Peter surprised me by suggesting I accept the job. When I asked how I could possibly do that, he replied that I obviously wanted the position very badly, and pointed out that with our daughter in college, and our son already pretty self-sufficient and heading off to college himself next year, my motherly responsibilities were pretty well taken care of. As for us, Peter said that although he couldn’t move, other married professional couples lived in different states and found a way to make it work. I could fly back to New York some weekends, and on others he and our son could fly out to L.A. Besides, my company’s corporate headquarters were in New York, so at some point I would probably have an opportunity to transfer back there as a senior executive.
I thought about all this, and realized that Peter was right, and that there was no reason we couldn’t make it work. I hugged him and kissed him and told him he was the best husband any woman ever had. That night we had some of the best sex we’d had in years. The next day I told my boss I would accept the position, and started the process of relocating to the West Coast.
Two weeks later, I moved into a corporate apartment in Los Angeles. My plan was to stay there for a few weeks, until I got up to speed in my new job and decided where I wanted to live. It seemed strange just unpacking for myself, and not having any of the normal distractions I had at home, like my son wanting to borrow my car or playing his stereo too loudly, or my husband parked in front of the TV watching sports for hours, or my daughter coming home on the weekend and handing me her laundry to do while she went out and partied with her friends.
On my first Saturday in my new home I promised myself that I was going to treat myself to a day at the pool. Usually Peter was good for about fifteen minutes at the pool, and then he’d get bored and want to go somewhere else. I was looking forward to spending several hours soaking up the sun and working on a tan. Having a pool right in my own apartment complex was a real treat.
Earlier that week I had stopped at the mall and bought myself some new bikinis. My husband had always insisted I wear a one-piece bathing suit, but I wanted a tan over as much of my body as I could legally expose to the California sun. I put on a skimpy black strapless bikini, and checked myself out in the mirror. I was pleased with what I saw; for a woman who had recently turned forty, I thought I looked pretty good. I tied a matching sarong around my hips and headed down to the pool.
I stretched out on a lounge chair, put on some suntan oil, and lay back, savoring the heat of the sun on my body. I’m not sure how much time went by, but suddenly I heard a deep voice asking me if the lounge chair next to mine was taken. I opened my eyes and saw a tall, muscular, and very handsome black man standing at the foot of my chair. He was younger than I, probably in his early thirties. It is rare that I meet a man who takes my breath away, but this guy did. I said the lounge was open, and he lay down beside me.
Holding out his hand, he introduced himself as Norman. He said he hadn’t seen me around before, and asked if I was new to the complex. I said yes, and told him I had transferred there from New York and was staying in a corporate apartment. Norman said he was
from Detroit, and was in L.A. on a one-year assignment for his company. His wife was back in Detroit with their kids, and he went home one or two weekends a month. He asked me where I was in the complex, and it turned out that our apartments were on opposite ends of the same floor in the same building.
I soon realized that Norman was checking me out as we talked. He was quite obvious about it, and I felt as though I was a car he was thinking of buying. I finally asked him if he liked what he saw, and he said yes, he did. He said I was a very beautiful woman, and he had always had a thing for blondes. He said a sexy woman like me must be used to men admiring me, and besides, I had certainly given him the once-over when he first spoke to me. I was taken aback by his lack of embarrassment and his level of confidence. It was I who was a little embarrassed, and when he asked me if I didn’t like men admiring me, I admitted that I did, but said I wasn’t used to talking about it.
We soon dropped that subject and talked about other things: living in L.A., politics, sports, and our families. We spent several hours out by the pool, and I couldn’t help being struck by the sexual magnetism that Norman radiated. I had never met a man who had this effect on me.
At one point Norman asked me to put some sunscreen on his back, and when I did that I felt myself getting very turned on by the feel of his rock-hard muscles; Norman apparently spent a lot of time in the gym working out. I wasn’t too surprised when he insisted on returning the favor. I rolled onto my stomach, and he spread the oil on my back and the backs of my legs. His touch was wonderful. I hesitated for a moment before unsnapping my bikini top, but finally I did. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was an accident, but when Norman rubbed some more oil into my back, his fingers also touched the sides of my breasts. Another time, those fingers slid briefly under the waistband of my bottom and touched my ass. I was getting very turned on by this.
When he finished oiling me, Norman said that if I didn’t have plans for that night, he would like to take me out to dinner and show me some of the local nightlife. I said I had some work I had to do. He replied by reminding me that all work and no play made for a dull girl, although he added that he didn’t think I could ever be dull. He was so persistent that I finally agreed to go out with him the following Friday. It then hit me that I had just agreed to go on a date with a guy I had just met, something I hadn’t done since college. I also realized that there were some aspects of a long-distance marriage that I hadn’t fully thought through.
It was late afternoon by now, and Norman and I began to pack it up. We rode the elevator up to our floor, then headed in opposite directions to our apartments. As I walked down the hall, I decided I was going to have to be careful about Norman. I admitted to myself that I was very attracted to him. I had had opportunities to have affairs over the years, but had always turned them down. But I felt myself more drawn to Norman than I had ever been to any of the others.
When I got to my door and reached into my tote bag for my keys, I didn’t feel them. I took everything else out of the bag, but they still weren’t there. I had been positive I had put them in there when I left the apartment, but now I wondered if I could have left them inside the apartment.
The management office was in another building on the far side of the complex, and I wasn’t crazy about the idea of walking all the way over there and back barefoot and clad only in a bikini. I finally decided to go down the hall to Norman’s apartment and use his phone to get somebody to let me into my place.
When I knocked on his door, Norman opened it, still in his swimming trunks, and greeted me with a grin, saying that he hadn’t expected to see me so soon, but that I was a bit underdressed if I had changed my mind about going out to dinner. I explained that I had locked myself out of my apartment and needed to call the management office. Norman invited me in and pressed a speed-dial number on his phone. After listening for a minute, he said they must be out, as he was getting their answering machine. He then left a message, identifying himself and explaining that I had locked myself out of my apartment and could be contacted at his number.
I told him I didn’t want to intrude, and that I would go and wait outside my door until somebody showed up with a key, but Norman insisted that I stay. He said I would be much more comfortable there, and besides he would enjoy the company. He then pointed to a bottle of tequila on the kitchen counter, along with a salt shaker and a bowl of sliced limes, and said he had been about to enjoy a few shots of tequila when I had knocked. He asked if I would like to join him. I hadn’t done shots of tequila since I was in college, but I decided what the hell and said yes. Norman got out some glasses and we took the stuff and went into the living room.
Norman found a baseball game on TV and suggested we try a drinking game—we had to do a shot every time the batter got a hit. We kept an eye on the TV as we talked, and when the first batter got a hit, we did our shots. I felt the tequila giving me a warm glow as it flowed down my throat into my stomach.
I had assumed that the phone would ring any second, and I would be able to get into my apartment, but several innings went by, and I lost count of the number of shots I did—especially after Norman insisted that foul balls also counted as hits, and we had to do shots for those too. I realized I was getting drunk, and also getting horny. Norman’s muscular black body was really turning me on, and in his trunks I could see the outline of what appeared to be an extremely large cock.
When Norman put his arm around me as we sat side by side on the sofa, it felt so natural that at first it didn’t even enter my mind that this wasn’t my husband I was cuddling up to, with both of us more undressed than dressed. A few minutes later I realized that he was caressing my knee, and then my thigh, with his hand, and that I was enjoying it.
While I was wondering what to do, Norman said that I was going to be a great addition to the complex. I asked him what he meant, and he explained that there were two types of corporate employees who stayed in this complex. The first type spent all their time at their offices, or brought work home and spent every night and weekend working. The second group was smaller, but much more fun. Most of them were married, but took advantage of the fact that they were far away from their spouses by having some extramarital fun. There was a lot of bed-hopping among this group, Norman said, and sometimes some of them even got together for a good old-fashioned orgy. He added that a beautiful blonde like myself would be a welcome and very popular addition to this second group, of which he was a part.
As he was talking, Norman’s hand had been moving higher on my thigh, and now I felt his fingers slide inside my bikini bottom and start caressing my clit. I sucked in my breath and a small groan escaped my lips.
Norman asked if I had ever cheated on my husband, and when I said no he told me he was looking forward to being my first. Between the tequila and the fact that I was incredibly turned on, my mind was spinning and I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I knew I should tell Norman to stop, but instead, when I spoke, I heard myself telling him how badly I wanted him. He laughed and said I shouldn’t worry; he was going to give me a fucking that I would never forget. He said he had a fondness for married white women, particularly blondes, so when he saw me at the pool wearing my wedding ring, he had been immediately attracted to me. My bikini top had somehow disappeared now, and Norman was sucking on my nipples, which felt wonderful. And then the bottom of the suit was gone too, and I was completely naked.
I lay back on the couch, and Norman’s hand massaged my nipples as he kissed his way down over my stomach until his head was between my thighs. I felt his tongue probing my pussy and sending what felt like an electrical current through me. My husband had never enjoyed giving oral sex, and when he did he hadn’t been very good at it, while Norman was apparently a skilled expert. He ate my pussy until my hips started bucking up and down and I had an orgasm that left me weak and gasping for air.
When I recovered, Norman asked me how I had liked that, and I told him that it was probably the most intense orgasm I had ever had. H
e laughed and said that I was in for a real treat then, because that was just the warm-up, and the best was yet to come.
He stood up then and dropped his trunks, and I was treated to my first view of a black cock, which was also the biggest cock I had ever seen in my life. I got on my knees on the carpet in front of him and eyed this monster. Fully erect, it was as big around as my wrist, and so long it looked to be twice the length of Peter’s. I opened my mouth wide and took the head of that big thing between my lips. I moved forward slowly, but I only got about a third of it into my mouth before I felt the head of it pressing against the back of my throat. I wondered then if it was going to be physically possible for Norman to fuck me with his huge cock.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Pulling his tool out of my mouth, he pulled me to my feet, then picked me up in his strong arms and carried me to the bedroom. There he laid me on the bed and climbed on top of me. He spread my legs wide, pressed the head of his big black cock against my blonde pussy, and leaned forward. I caught my breath. It felt like somebody was trying to fuck me with a baseball bat. Norman just kept kissing me and telling me I would love the feel of it once I got used to it. He kept kissing and stroking me as he maintained a steady pressure, and slowly that great, rock-hard pole slid into me, one inch at a time, until I had the entire length of it inside me. I had never felt so full in my life.
Norman gave me a couple of minutes, and then started to stroke his horse-size cock in and out of me. I felt like a virgin again; he was stretching me wider than I’d ever been stretched, and probing more deeply than any cock had ever gone inside me. But it wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it all felt unbelievably great! I eventually adjusted to the size of that cock and lay there savoring the absolute best fucking I had ever had in my life. I wrapped my legs around Norman’s hips, locked my ankles together behind his back, and moved with him in an ecstasy of unbelievable sensation.
Letters to Penthouse XXVII Page 15