Meanwhile, Celia and Gordon were kissing. Then she moved down for some more of his magnificent cock. When I was done, Celia beckoned me to her and I began eating Gordon's come out of her spent pussy. It tasted so incredible.
While I was busy tasting his cream, I felt something wet against my backside. I quickly figured out what it was and wiggled my ass in encouragement. After Gordon had lubricated my asshole, he held his cock to it and moved in. As he did so, I pushed back and before I knew it, he was moving in and out of me. I had never anticipated something like this, but I was surely enjoying it all.
I continued eating out my beautiful wife while this gorgeous black man was reaming my ass like tomorrow would never come. And he lasted for a long time. I reached up to fondle my wife's tits. Rochelle and Celia were once again locked in a deep, passionate kiss.
Then my beautiful blond wife started sucking her old girlfriend's pussy once again. After hours of this, all four of us fell asleep in a heap.
We went on like this till Sunday evening. Before they left, Celia told them that she was so glad that Rochelle had come back and brought Gordon with her. Since then, we have talked about moving closer to them. Rochelle and Gordon would be a welcome change!—L.D., Rockford, Illinois
A FREQUENT FLIER DISCOVERS A NEW WAY TO EXPERIENCE THE JOYS OF THE MILE HIGH CLUB
As I near sixty years of age, living happily with my fourth wife, I have many sexual adventures tucked away in my memory, and I'm sure there's room for more in the future. I'd like to tell you about one that gave a whole new twist to the expression, “flying solo.”
In my thirties I had a private pilot license. Besides owning a float-plane appropriate for this lake-studded area of Maine, I also rented wheeled planes for longer trips. One fine summer day I was returning home in a wheeled Cessna 172 when I decided to act on an urge to strip naked. This isn't the easiest maneuver for a lanky six-footer piloting a four-seater, but I had lots of time and was in absolutely no traffic.
For a while I luxuriated in the sensual pleasures of what is not normally thought of as a naturist activity. However, after some time, hormones took over and I found myself concentrating more and more on stroking my cock and balls. What a treat to beat my meat at ten thousand feet!
I kept myself just short of orgasm for the longest time until a sudden inspiration seized me. I opened my window, which hinged outward from the top, and careful not to bring the plane to a dangerous altitude, jammed my crotch against the opening.
The moment my hot hard dick hit the frigid hundred-twenty mile-per-hour airstream, all my pent-up jism was sucked out of my cock. It landed, I later found, along the port side of the fuselage and tail. Strangely, there was absolutely none of the usual heart-stopping, eye-closing drama when I came, but I was left with an enduring memory of my most unique orgasm.—B.L., Augusta, Maine
TO CHEAT OR NOT TO CHEAT? THAT IS THE QUESTION—THE ANSWER? TO CHEAT
A short time ago I had the pleasure of a most gratifying fling. I never saw it coming but I more or less stumbled into a love affair with a shy, pretty, somewhat inexperienced young married woman after we enjoyed a few drinks together.
She would not be pleased with me for writing this fuck-and-tell letter. She's a rather conservative and very private lady, a devout Christian committed to a monogamous relationship with her husband. So I'll split the difference here by giving the essential details of what happened and omitting any telltale specifics that could make her identity discern-able to anyone. I'll call her Cindy. Only she would recognize herself although I'd be astonished if she reads this magazine.
Cindy and I had met a few times before through work and were on a first name basis. Our interaction had been cordial. She was a recent arrival in the area, a job offer having brought her to my hometown. She was recently married but living alone. Her husband remained behind to sell their house while applying for jobs in the same town as his new bride.
I ran into Cindy at a Friday afternoon social reception my firm was hosting. I struck up a conversation. We were both lonely that evening and seemed to hit it off. She looked like a million bucks in her conservative navy business suit with black hosiery covering two well-shaped legs. It was my first chance to just chat with her. I learned she was a graduate of a small Bible college close to her hometown. She was twenty-six and had been married just over a year. We chatted for close to an hour. When she decided to leave, it was dark out and I offered to see her to her car.
We made our way out of the building, then down the street to the lot where her car was parked. Impulsively I asked her if she would like to join me for a drink.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked.
I suggested a favorite cocktail lounge of mine. Cindy invited me to her place instead, a condominium a few miles away. We took our own cars and I followed her. Her condo was small but smartly decorated. She poured each of us a brandy and we stepped out onto her small second-floor patio to stand at the railing. She told me about her husband and how difficult it was living apart.
She asked about my family. I told her about my daughters and some difficulties I was having with my teenage son who couldn't seem to stay out of trouble in school. Cindy said she and her husband were still talking about having children but wanted to wait at least two more years.
“Do you believe in family values?” she asked me.
“Sure,” I said. “Just as long as someone doesn't try to tell me what my family values ought to be.”
“I guess that's a reasonable philosophy,” she said.
The collar of her jacket was twisted. I straightened it for her and she thanked me. As I finished, I brushed my fingers over the side of her neck and caught a whiff of her perfume.
“You're an incredibly beautiful woman, Cindy,” I told her.
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“Are you adventurous?”
“In what way do you mean?”
“I'm having fantasies about you and me. We're all alone here. No one to see, or know, or tell about what goes on between us.”
She instantly caught my drift. “No, I'm not adventurous in the way you mean,” she politely informed me.
“Just checking,” I smiled.
“Are you a playboy?”
“I fool around a bit.”
“Where I come from that's called adultery.”
I shrugged, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.
“I'm not trying to judge,” Cindy added. “Consenting adults can do what they like. Extramarital sex is just out of bounds for me, that's all.”
“I won't mention it again,” I promised her. We were probably a huge mismatch anyway. She seemed the quintessential faithful spouse while for me, illicit sex is the most delicious kind. But she was a strict Christian and I don't go about trying to make a fallen angel of someone who's trying to live by his or her beliefs. What was her attitude about safe sex? Probably a moot point for someone who won't even consider sex outside of marriage. Now for me, doing it with a condom isn't even doing it. Mother Nature meant for semen to splash meat, not rubber. If a load of come isn't left behind in a lover's vagina, then for me it wasn't a real fuck.
We went inside and sat on the couch. Cindy poured fresh drinks and we sat side by side. I hoped I hadn't offended her. If I did she showed no sign of it. The conversation grew more friendly and intimate. Then without thinking, I rested my hand on her knee, realizing the moment I touched her what I'd impulsively done. I hastily withdrew my hand but Cindy made no comment and showed no sign of being perturbed.
An awkward silence followed. She shifted her position slightly, pressing her leg up against mine, and made no effort to pull away. What was this about? As unequivocal as she had been about her feelings regarding fooling around, it seemed unlikely she was signaling a change of heart. One could read too much into something perfectly innocent. But still, I reminded myself that she was only human.
Cautiously, I again rested my hand lightly on her knee. When she offered no objection, I brushed my fingertips ac
ross her knee, then allowed them to venture an inch at a time up her leg. The silky nylon of her hosiery was warm from her skin. My fingertips slipped under her hemline and lightly caressed her inner thigh.
I began kissing her on the mouth. Her lips parted and I let my tongue dart briefly in to lick her own tongue, then began kissing her all over her face, flitting from her nose to her forehead to her cheek and her neck. I nibbled at her earlobe.
“I'm dying to pounce on you,” I told her.
She swallowed hard. “I wouldn't want anyone to know about it,” she said with a fretful quiver in her voice.
With those nervous words she let me know she had made a decision to cross over into an unexplored forbidden zone with a relative stranger, and there was no doubt this was a scary leap she was taking.
“Of course not,” I quietly said.
“This feels really weird all of a sudden.”
“First time with someone besides your husband?”
She nodded.
“If you're not sure about it, we'll stop before it goes any further.”
“It'll be okay,” she said. “Here on the couch or in my bedroom?”
“You decide,” I told her.
She led me into her bedroom and she turned the light down low. She tugged at her wedding band until it came loose and we began to undress. When she was naked she climbed onto the bed. When I finished undressing, my penis was fully erect. I positioned myself beside the front of the bed to make it easy for her to swing over and reach my dick with her mouth. She saw what I had in mind.
“I've never done that,” she said.
“Whatever you're comfortable with,” I soothed. “I'm open to anything.”
I guided her onto her back and brought my mouth down to her belly and began kissing her softly around her navel. I fondled her breasts, which were firm and full, and brought my lips up to them. I gave both of her nipples a generous tongue bath and began sucking on them. She reacted by sliding her fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp, enraptured at having her tits sucked.
I was eager to taste her pussy and I headed south until her pretty little muff was in my face. I caught a good noseful of the scent of her cunt as I spread her thighs apart. That warm breeze never fails to get me fired up. I brought the tip of my tongue to her clitoris, gently pulling back the hood to expose the little pink nub. She tightened as I licked it, letting my tongue caress it in circular motions.
I spread her labia and my tongue slithered down into the slit at the center of her little nest. I worked my middle finger in and penetrated her entrance, then patiently probed deeper into her box to locate her G-spot. When I hit it, I massaged it vigorously until a flow of sticky secretion covered my finger.
My other hand massaged her pubic mound, then slipped under her rump, pushing the cheeks apart. My finger found her anus and pushed in. She shrieked with pleasure as I worked it around inside of her. The simultaneous anal, clitoral, and G-spot stimulation brought her to orgasm.
“Ready for my rod in your bod?” I playfully asked her.
“Whenever you are,” she replied.
I climbed on top of her, kissing her face and nibbling at her earlobes. With my hand I guided my penis to the entrance of her vagina but had difficulty inserting it. She reached down and took hold, patiently working it herself until the swollen head squeezed in, all at once shooting in with a plop. Her pussy was a tight fit and I knew I was in for an intense cunt-clenching orgasm.
“Go easy,” she told me.
“Don't worry,” I said.
I slid in and out of her in very slow thrusts, pausing momentarily with each penetration into her. Whenever I got overly excited I held up and took a couple of deep breaths. It took a long time to fuck in this manner but it was utterly fabulous, devouring and savoring every second of the slow friction of our genitals locked together. I found myself experiencing far greater pleasure than I ever got by the usual fast-paced ride-em-cowboy fucking that comes naturally to men but which often leaves a woman unsatisfied.
At length I could delay my orgasm no longer. I erupted, feeling the expulsion down below in her snatch. The reservoir spilled over, releasing an excited hoard of several million enthusiastic sperm merrily splashing and thrashing their way up the tunnel into a new home. I began to relax as the last few dribbles of semen oozed out and were soaked up in her snug little beaver.
When I was recharged we balled one more time. There was nothing exotic about Cindy's sexual preferences. It was all conventional, but with a nice gentle touch. My own tastes are more daring and varied, but for her first time venturing into infidelity I was content to go easy. When it was over, I did not feel shortchanged. She is a lady who is honest about how she likes to be screwed. When we were done I got dressed and left.
At the time I think we both assumed our roll in the hay was a one-nighter, a lone fall off the fidelity wagon for her. But she was in my blood now and I couldn't get her out of my mind. A few days later I found myself phoning her and asking to see her again. She refused at first but after we chatted she relaxed and the conversation ended with her inviting me to her place that evening.
We had several good times over the next three months, carrying on a discreet affair when we could arrange time together. She loosened up as time went by and began exploring different pleasures with me. Then one night she finally gave me a blowjob, her first ever experience in performing fellatio. While she was not skilled at it, I told her she was terrific. She seemed pleased and thereafter got better at it each time.
Our trysts continued until her husband joined her. Two weeks before he arrived in town she told me she wanted to end our affair, that she was ready to resume married life and wanted no distractions. So we brought our late night one-on-one parties to a close.
Sex with a married woman who is committed to her marriage may be the finest sex a man can find. It's about uninhibited sexual gratification and nothing else. But it's the victory of persuading a wedded lass to grant you the liberties she has vowed to another man exclusively that makes it a thrilling adventure of stolen pleasures that's hard to top.— H.Y., Mobile, Alabama
A YOUNG MAN DISCOVERS THAT THE TASTE OF SEMEN ISN'T JUST ACQUIRED, BUT REQUIRED
It need scarcely be said that the sex most of us experience out here in the real world is generally a bit more routine than the riotous escapades outlined in such loving detail in your magazine. And though most women I've known have, when asked, counted themselves quite adventurous sexually, it usually turns out those same women end up showing little interest in reading and discussing the letters in your publication, tending to resist the notion of sharing a porno film, and indeed often expressing distaste at much of the content of either.
Fortunately, this is not universally true. There are those special exceptions in the world, ladies whose inclinations are as thoroughly nasty as any man can hope for. When such a lady is found, one who is open to—indeed, enthusiastic about—the prospect of exploring a genuinely wide range of erotic pleasures, it is time to stand up and celebrate this rare treasure for all to know.
And it is that which prompts my letter—a powerful desire to praise the glories of one exceptional woman. I will, for the purposes of this account, call her Sela. Should she happen to read this, I'm certain she will recognize herself, though I will probably never know this for certain as we're no longer together.
Unfortunately, we live in different parts of the country now and it is nearly certain that we will never again see one another, so unpleasant was our breakup.
Nonetheless, the one positive thing that I carry with me from those years is the memory of our mutual sexual exploration. If indeed at some future date I should find a lover even half as exciting and adventurous as she, I will count myself the luckiest of men.
I first met Sela at work, but our initial social contacts never moved beyond friendship. A persistent boyfriend at the time refused to leave the picture. Sela had short, naturally blond hair, was lean and well-shaped with a
beautifully rounded butt, tight medium-sized tits and deliciously long, nicely muscled legs. When out casually, she often went bra-less, quite unembarrassed by the thick eraser-sized nipples that seemed to harden with the slightest breeze or the least verbal provocation. A platonic friendship had its frustrating side.
We eventually lost touch and a year passed before I heard from her again. It turned out that she had moved back to her native state of Oregon. That was the bad news. The good news was that she wanted to fly out to my area and look up some old friends, myself included. It didn't take too many phone calls to figure out that the other friends were never really an issue. I had long before made my interest in her known and she had given me a lot of thought as well. Over the next six months or so, numerous weekend and vacation trips resulted in the most intense, extended fucking sessions I've ever experienced.
Now many women claim to be multiply orgasmic, but nothing in my experience has ever matched Sela's sexual responses. For starters, virtually everything I did or said seemed to make her immediately horny. Nothing however, made her hornier than her own climaxes. Once she began to come, her rapid chain of orgasms seemed to last forever, and my continued stimulation during that time only made her crazier.
When she finally wound down from one cluster of orgasms, she was almost immediately ready to go again. She'd come all the more quickly and more intensely the next time, this succession continuing in ever more rapid and more frenzied eruptions. She was frequently quite literally hard to hold down at these times.
During one of our earlier get-togethers, Sela boasted that no man had ever stimulated her to a point where she had to stop. Men, she said, never outlasted her. One night however, on the floor of my living room, as I alternated for several hours between extended fucking and marathon cunt-licking sessions, sometimes eating her wildly while fucking her with her large brown cock-shaped vibrator and periodically slipping a well-lubed finger up her asshole, I brought her finally to a point where she began uncontrollably clutching my head.
She screamed so loudly I feared a neighbor might call the police. It wasn't long before she was begging me to stop, claiming she was experiencing “clit overload” for the first time in her life and admitting breathlessly that I had done what no other man had been able to do. I'd managed that entire time to go without coming (years of practice holding off during jacking off sessions, I suppose) and I told her I would quit only on the condition that she let me fuck her in the mouth until I came. She was exhausted, and fellatio was a favorite pastime of hers anyway, so she collapsed flat on her back and opened her mouth wide as I straddled her face. I thrust way down her throat until my load, by now quite massive from all the buildup, filled her mouth to the point of literally overflowing and dripping down her smiling face. She drank it down, wiped the spillage into her cheeks with her fingers, licked them clean and we collapsed together, completely exhausted.
Letters to Penthouse XV Page 23