Letters to Penthouse XXV

by Penthouse International

  “Hi. I’m Gerald—from the agency.” He flashed a grin, and it was obvious that he had either been born with perfectly aligned teeth, or had a very good and very expensive orthodontist.

  “I’m Laura,” I said. I held the door open and gestured him inside. “Would you like some champagne?”

  He expertly uncorked the Dom Perignon and filled our flutes. We sat at opposite ends of the love seat and got acquainted. I told him that I was a lawyer in town for a seminar, and learned that he was a second-year law student. We talked about torts cases and sipped the wine, which was delicious. Gerald was studying my chest, which I found flattering. I casually undid the top button and gave him a little sneak peek at my black bra.

  We finished our champagne and moved together on the seat. I slid a hand around his neck and pulled him toward me. Our lips met and we kissed, slowly at first and then with more urgency. I opened my mouth and our tongues dueled. Under his sweater I could feel his heart beating.

  I guided his hand to my chest, and his fingers closed around my breast. He squeezed and tweaked the nipple through my clothes. I thrilled to his touch on my sensitive skin and erect nipples. My hand found its way to his lap, rubbing the thing that was making a tent in his pants.

  “Unbutton my blouse.” I said, my voice husky with desire. When the buttons were undone I stood, pulled the blouse out of my pants and tossed it across the back of the loveseat. Then I unbelted my slacks and slowly unzipped the fly. I turned my back to him as I dropped my pants—not because I was shy, but because I wanted him to appreciate my tight round derriere when I bent over to coax my slacks over my shoes.

  When I faced him again I was wearing just my bra, panties, garter belt, shoes and stockings. I reached for his belt, unfastened it and yanked his zipper down. That audacity made him gasp. Then I slid his pants down his legs. I was on my knees and he was standing in front of me, his erect cock swaying in my face like a cobra before a mongoose.

  “Take off your sweater,” I ordered him. “Sit on the couch.”

  Next to the ice bucket was my little clutch purse with the evening’s essentials. I foraged in it and found the travel-size tube of hand lotion, squeezed a big dollop into my cupped palm and started stroking his manhood. He groaned and closed his eyes, then threw his head back and sighed.

  His shaft was about eight inches long, warm and heavy in my hands, longer and thicker than my husband’s. Women tell men that size doesn’t matter, and men believe it because they want to. A milky drop of precome oozed from the slit in the purple head of his cock.

  I found a flavored condom in my purse, tore the foil with my teeth and rolled the rubber over the head of his prick. Still slowly stroking his shaft, I gave him a warm smile and took his lovely cock into my mouth.

  There was a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, shit,” he said. “Oh shit! Fuck!” I smiled around the thing filling my mouth. He was going to remember this night as more than just another job.

  I sucked the head of his dick and rubbed the underside with my tongue. Then I concentrated on licking the glans, driving Gerald right out of his mind. I licked the underside again and played with his balls before I took him back in my mouth, taking as much of him as I could down my throat while gently massaging the little area between his balls and his asshole.

  Before he could come I took my mouth off his throbbing dick, straightened my back and unhooked my bra. It fluttered to the floor. Still on my knees between his legs, I nested his big thing between my boobs and squeezed them together. Slowly he started humping my chest. His balls rubbed my tummy, and every time the head of his cock emerged from between my tits I gave it a lick or a suck. This went on for a while, to our mutual satisfaction.

  “My turn,” I said finally. I stood up and shucked off my panties. “Here.” I handed them to him. “Go on—you know you want to.”

  Gerald held my panties to his face and took a slow deep breath through his nose, then exhaled ecstatically before taking another hearty sniff.

  “Come along,” I said. I retrieved my purse with one hand, took hold of his penis with the other and led him that way into the bedroom. I flopped on my back on the bed and spread my legs in lascivious invitation. “Fuck me with your mouth, baby,” I told him. “Lick my snatch.”

  Which he did, only he didn’t start there. He mounted me and started by kissing my lips, ears and neck. I felt his hard, hot excitement pressing against my crotch. He moved down to take an excited nipple in his hot mouth, while the velvety head of his cock brushed smoothly against the oily folds of my womanhood and caressed the hard nub of my clitoris. I was nearly in tears from longing, and raging with desire. Finally he grabbed my ankles and moved my legs over his shoulders. My hips rose, my crotch meeting his face as his tongue parted the flesh of my labia and his lips found my throbbing little ditty and went to work.

  I wanted to make it last; and I tried to hold out, but I couldn’t hold back my orgasm any more than I could stop a volcano erupting, which was just what it felt like.

  We rested for a few minutes, his cheek against the inside of my thigh. “What do you want to do now?” he said then.

  “How about we have another glass of Dom Perignon?” I suggested.

  He bounced out of bed to fetch the champagne. When he got back with the bubbly we camped on the bed and sipped. His rod was still hard and ready for action. Youth is wonderful.

  “I want to be on top,” I said, taking his glass and setting it along with mine on the nightstand. He lay on his back, his erection standing stiff and proud. I mounted his hips and guided his long, stiff thing into me. I love this position, largely because I get to control the depth of penetration and the speed and rhythm of the fucking.

  I lowered myself slowly onto him until he was buried full-length in my oh-so-willing pussy. Then I slowly rose until he was almost out, then came down again. The slow, delicious friction was driving us both wild.

  Gerald took a sip of cold champagne and sucked my warm nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the thrill of the cold wine, and then groaned with pleasure. I gasped and groaned again when he did the same thing on the other side.

  Tiring of my slow teasing movements, he grabbed my hips and impaled me with one mighty thrust, and when he was buried to the hilt I rewarded him with a corkscrew motion around his enclosed cock. At that moment I think the only things touching the bed were my knees, his heels and the back of his head.

  Gerald now started thrusting as hard as he could, and I was responding with wild movements of my own. I could feel another orgasm building and building, and then the storm broke and I rode the crest as wave after wave of ecstasy shot through me. I was wailing with pleasure, the muscles of my vagina spasming out of control, clutching his pole like a fist.

  He slowed and then stopped, but he was still hard inside me. Reluctantly I slid off him.

  “Time for some more lubricant,” I said. “I want to try something new.” I got the tube from my purse and squeezed some lube onto my palm, then slowly stroked his stiff shaft, although it was already shiny with my juices. I climbed on to the bed and got into the doggie position, my bottom in the air and my elbows on the mattress. I spread my legs just enough for him to mount me from behind. Reaching back, I found his throbbing cock and guided it right to the pucker of my asshole. I pushed against it and felt myself widen. I pushed again, harder this time. Then a third time, and sudden intense pleasure shot through me as the big head of his cock penetrated the muscle ring.

  I didn’t move for a couple of minutes, giving myself time to relax and accept the shaft impaled in my backside. Then I slowly moved back and forth, taking a little more with each stroke. “Fuck me now!” I cried. “Fuck me with your big cock! Fuck the shit out of me!”

  With both hands on my waist he began thrusting deep inside me, and I met his every stroke. I reached between my legs working my fingers over my clit until I felt the rush of my third and final orgasm of the evening.

  Gerald withdrew, still magnificently hard. I decide
d it was time to remedy that condition.

  “I want you to come all over my tits,” I said breathlessly. With that he shucked off the rubber and started masturbating furiously. His face twisted with pleasure, and the cords stood out on his neck. Finally he gave a cry and long, ropey gouts of warm musky fluid shot from the end of his cock and splattered onto my chest.

  I paid Gerald with a credit card that my husband doesn’t know about, and also added a handsome cash tip. My trip to L.A. had definitely been a rewarding experience, in more ways than one.—L.B., Chicago, Illinois

  THE REPAIRMAN GOT HER HOT TUB FLOWING AGAIN, AMONG OTHER THINGS

  It was a beautiful warm spring day, and I decided to play hooky from work and get an early jump on my tan. Our hot tub wasn’t working properly, and since I was going to be home all day, my husband Ted decided to call a repairman to come and look at it.

  I knew that our neighbors were all working, so I decided to lie out in our backyard in the nude, to get an all-over tan and to avoid those nasty tan lines. I put on an old robe and went out to our patio. I moved a lounge chair into the sun, then doffed my robe and applied some baby oil to my skin. Then I just sat back and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my nakedness.

  I must have dozed off, because I was awakened by the sound of the doorbell. I had completely forgotten about the repairman coming. I quickly donned my robe and went to answer the door. When I opened it, there stood a black man with a toolbox. The monogram on his shirt said that his name was Jake.

  Now I am a twenty-six-year-old married woman, and happy in my marriage in all respects, especially in the sex department. But like a lot of married women, I have my private sexual fantasies. And Jake looked like one of my fantasies come true. I had often dreamed about having sex with a black man, and I had always wondered if all the stories I had heard were true.

  Jake was about thirty or so, six feet tall and well built, with a heavy mustache. I let him inside and proceeded to lead him out back to our patio, where our hot tub was. I had, however. completely forgotten how short and sheer my robe was. My rather lush breasts and erect nipples could be plainly seen through the sheer material, and the hem barely covered the bottom of my well-rounded ass. I caught Jake several times giving me the eye as we walked to the patio.

  When we got to the tub, Jake put down his toolbox and asked what was wrong with it. I told him that the jets weren’t working properly, and leaned over to start them up. In the process my sheer robe rode up, completely exposing my ass and giving Jake a nice view of my hairy pussy. I couldn’t help noticing the outline of his member as it pressed against his pants.

  Jake said he thought he knew what the problem was, and proceeded to take off the side panel in the tub. I excused myself to go and put something on, and to get us something to drink.

  As I went into the bedroom to change, my mind was on my fantasy. This was the first time a black man had been in my house, and the thought of it was getting me horny. Before I knew it I was lying on the bed, rubbing myself between my legs and massaging my tits through my robe at the same time. I was so wet with desire, I finally decided to see if I could fulfill my fantasy. I grabbed a couple of beers from the kitchen and went back out to see how Jake was doing.

  He was just finishing up when I got there, and I could tell by the look in his eye that he was glad I hadn’t changed. He said he wanted to check the jets to make sure they were working, and when he did they roared to life. When I asked him what the problem had been, he held up a clump of black stringy material that he had found in the filter unit. He unfolded the material to reveal a black G-string bikini that I had lost a couple of nights before, when my husband and I had been fooling around in the tub. “So that’s where that went!” I muttered, feeling my face getting red.

  Holding up the flimsy garment, Jake commented, “I bet these make for some interesting tan lines!” I blushed again, and I saw Jake shift around in an attempt to adjust his hardening meat.

  I figured this was my chance—it was now or never. So I leaned over and put my hand on his big bulge, saying, “Here, let me fix that for you.” When he didn’t move away, I pulled down his zipper and his cock practically jumped through his fly. The first sight of it made me so dizzy that I almost fell over. I couldn’t believe its size. It was the first black cock I had ever seen, and it was certainly worth the wait. There it stood, long, thick and very dark, its huge head jet black. It must have been at least nine inches long, maybe more.

  Still staring at his dick, I slowly undid the belt of my robe and pushed it off my shoulders. My nipples were rock-hard and begging to be sucked. “Like what you see?” I asked Jake as I let my robe fall completely open, displaying my taut body to him. Jake responded by leaning over and giving me a long hard kiss, thrusting his hot tongue into my mouth. His lips and moustache were driving me crazy. He put my hand back on his crotch and quickly pushed his jeans and his briefs to the floor. Still kissing me, he pushed my robe off my body. His long fingers found their way to my pussy and began working their magic, and I could feel my juices running down the inside of my thighs.

  I knelt between his legs and stared at that cock in disbelief as Jake began squeezing my tits and pulling my nipples. It felt so good I couldn’t help sliding my hand between my legs to relieve myself a little.

  Jake suggested we try out the hot tub. We climbed in, and he sat on the side of the tub, his massive cock staring me in the face. I started to stroke it slowly. Soon a drop of precome appeared, and without hesitation I licked it off as Jake let out a soft moan. He then took my head in his hands and drew my face toward his dick. My eager mouth opened and took him in.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. As I tongued his rod I slowly started taking more and more of it into my mouth. I could feel his bulging veins under my tongue as I began to bob up and down on that big dick, my hands gripping his shaft at the base. Try as I might, I was only able to take about half of his cock down my throat. I sucked him off for about ten minutes, while fingering my own clit, until I had worked both of us up to a powerful orgasm, and I swallowed his entire massive load down my throat.

  Jake said it was now his turn. He said that he had never made it with a white woman before. We changed positions, and he immediately dove into my sopping pussy, his lips and tongue going right to work. He separated my cunt lips with his fingers and pushed his face tightly against my flaming snatch. He then thrust his long hot tongue into me as far as he could. I came all over his face and was screaming for more. He ate me to three climaxes, and when he finally lifted his head, his mustache glistened with my wetness.

  As Jake stood up I quickly dove for his gorgeous rod. I wanted to suck on it again, but he had different ideas. He sat up on the edge of the tub again, and then had me smother his dick with my chest. I started to bob up and down with his huge shaft between my firm tits. It was so long that I could tongue the head of it as it rubbed all over my face. He was driving me crazy and he knew it. Finally I begged him to fuck me, and he moved down into the tub and let me climb on top of him. Under the water I could see his cock moving toward my slit. I couldn’t wait for that huge pole to split me open. I began humping against his dick as he moved the head teasingly around my pussy lips. By now I wanted that big black cock so badly I was almost in tears, and I screamed at him to put it in me.

  My cunt was so wet you could have shoved a telephone pole up there, which is what it felt like as he slowly fed his nine or ten inches into my hungry slit. I slowly bobbed up and down on his huge prick, taking a little more with each thrust until the entire thing was inside me. It felt so good, I almost passed out. I could feel his balls rolling beneath my ass cheeks as I rode him like a bucking bronco. Soon I could feel his dick twitching inside my anxious snatch. I started to scream. “Fuck me, fuck me, you big black stud! Fuck my white cunt!” When I felt him shoot what felt like a river of jism inside me, I couldn’t control myself, and I lost count of how many times I climaxed.

  After I had regained my compos
ure, I gave Jake a passionate kiss and stroked his cock one last time. As we both got dressed, I told him how great it had been. He said it had been great for him too, and if ever I needed my tub fixed again I should be sure to call him. After he left I took a nice long bath, but I was still hot, thinking about Jake and what we had done, and also thinking about the fucking my husband was going to get when he came home!—C.H., Kansas City, Missouri

  CAUGHT IN A SNOWSTORM, THESE THREE FOUND A MOTEL ROOM WITH ONLY ONE BED

  A year ago my wife Helen and I took a short trip up the coast to Maine for an antique dealers’ convention, along with our friend Cal, also an antique dealer. The forecast was for six to eight inches of snow, and we were hoping to beat the storm.

  We were halfway there when the snowfall started. After another half-hour the snow was falling quite heavily, and the highways were getting very slippery. The three of us decided to make an overnight stop at the next motel.

  Within ten minutes we were glad to see a blinking motel sign. When we walked into the office, the man behind the desk said we were lucky—he had just one room available. It had one queen-size bed, and that was all he had. Take it or leave it. We weren’t about to go out on the road again, so we decided to take it.

  Helen and I signed in and brought in the luggage while Cal walked over to a small tavern across the road to get some booze. Ten minutes later he was back. Helen was already taking a shower. We poured some drinks, and within a few minutes Helen came out, drying her long black hair. She was wearing a short terrycloth bathrobe and slippers. She made herself comfortable on the large bed, and Cal and I settled into a couple of chairs.

  We sat around drinking and talking for a while. Occasionally Helen would carelessly move her legs apart, or jackknife one of them, showing us plenty of white skin under that short robe. Once or twice I caught a glimpse of her white panties up between her warm thighs. I knew that if I could see them Cal could too. But I kept my mouth shut and didn’t say a word.