Drawing back a fraction, she slid her left hand over my flank and cupped my balls, the chilly fingers causing them to draw up in surprise. It was a move calculated for its effect—the juxtaposition of warm mouth and cold hand was marvelous. Like a consummate musician, she brought the first movement of our little symphony to a close with a delicate flourish of her tongue on the tip of my instrument.
She stood and pulled off my blindfold. The smell I couldn’t place was now identifiable—we were in the back of a furniture store, surrounded by new upholstery. That awareness fled as my eyes took in the sight before them. The woman stood there naked except for her clown makeup and cowboy boots. I had never seen so perfect a form in my life—long legs, exquisitely formed breasts with tight, erect nipples, and well-manicured golden pubic hair. Still, her most astounding feature was her painted face. The lavishly red mouth gave her a tawdry look. Her eyes smoldered within their dark circles. Her hair was now a wickedly tangled nimbus. She backed up to a desk and motioned me to finish undressing.
Only when I was completely bare did she remove her boots, leaving us exposed but for our greasepaint masks. She moved her right leg up onto the desk and her hand spread the finely formed lips of her glistening sheath. No further invitation was needed. I pulled a chair forward and she threw her calves over my shoulders, bringing me close to breathe her musky scent. Her juices were flowing freely, tasting like honey on my tongue as it ran up and down her slit before settling on her clitoris. I let my tongue hover like a hummingbird above a succulent flower. Then, without warning, she was coming, grasping my head and drawing me closer with her legs as she let out a deep groan—the first sound I had heard from her.
As her climax slowly waned, she relaxed and put her feet down, pulling me with her to a couch that opened up to reveal a bed. She climbed onto it and rested on forearms and knees, tilting her pelvis to display her shining pussy. I took my swollen cock in hand and pointed. She was so wet my aching erection slid easily into the folds of her vagina. Each stroke was rapture. I picked up my tempo and she arched like a bow being strung, grasping the mattress with futile fingers. She came again, convulsing and letting out a tiny cry.
She leaned forward, uncoupling us, and stretched out, beckoning me to lie beside her. Once I was stretched on my back she swung her leg over my hips and mounted me. Looking deep into my eyes, she seized my cock and sank down on me till her clit rubbed in my pubic hair. Each motion increased our delicious friction until she began to tremble again, her climax bringing me irresistibly to my own, as my creamy come flowed into her.
Neither of us spoke as we lay there. Eventually a mutual urge got us dressed. Standing before the door that separated us from the outside, I took her scarf and rebound my eyes so that she could lead me back to the square. Amid the crowd she removed the blindfold, gave me a kiss, and disappeared.
I worked my way back to the apartment, relaxed and satisfied. Dieter and his girlfriend had been joined by several others, and my entrance occasioned some curious glances and a couple of grins. Only when I glanced in the mirror did I see what caused the stares. My face, like that of my anonymous companion, had lost its tidy paint job in our passion, just as I had lost my inhibitions in a perfect Fasching celebration.
—H.P., Detroit, Michigan
BUSINESSWOMAN ROYALLY PLEASURED IN MEDIEVAL CASTLE BY HER CREATIVE MATE
My husband, Paul, and I are successful and very busy people who often forget how important it is to get down to the basics and just love each other emotionally and physically. But in late August of last year my husband did something I never expected. He created a magical weekend that most women only dream about.
He had been in Europe on business for over two weeks when he called to tell me that he would have to stay there a little longer. I tried not to be upset, knowing that he had no other choice, but when we hung up he knew I was not pleased. The next day, while at the office, my husband’s assistant delivered a bouquet of wildflowers and a sealed manila envelope. In the envelope was an airline ticket to Italy where we would spend a long weekend together.
I called him at his hotel and warned him that if this was going to be a weekend of me sitting in a hotel room in Rome while he was in meetings, he could forget it, but he assured me that it would be wonderful.
Arriving in Italy, I was highly impressed by the Rolls my husband had waiting for me. The driver helped me in. “Your husband eagerly awaits your arrival, my lady,” he said in a thick Italian accent.
As we left Rome, I started to ask the driver questions about our destination, but he would reveal nothing. My curiosity was killing me as we climbed high hills into a heavily wooded area. The trip was long and I eventually grew tired and fell asleep.
I awoke to the sound of the driver calling me: “Signora! Andiamo! We have arrived.” I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the sleepiness and see where I was. There in front of me was the most magnificent building I’d ever seen, a giant medieval castle. I was in awe, feeling so tiny beneath its shadow, and I turned around to watch the iron gates close behind us.
One of several people waiting outside the castle stepped forward and kissed me once on each cheek. Her name was Rose and she welcomed me, assuring me that Paul would be back later. In the meantime, she would show me to my room where I could freshen up and change before dinner. I think I was still in shock as I walked through the large doors into the castle. The floors were oak parquet and the ceilings were high. As we walked through the rooms, I wondered where it would end. Was this castle being rented out as a hotel? Did we have one room?
“Feel free to explore all of the rooms,” Rose said, as if reading my thoughts. She then led me up two flights of stairs. She was out of breath when we reached a door, which like the others had a Renaissance arch, and she opened it for me.
It was the bathroom, and it was as big as our entire bedroom at home! In the middle of the room was a giant tub made out of the same marble used for the floor. Rose pointed out where everything was and then turned on the tub. She picked up a bottle of bubble bath and I was just about to stop her when she paused and smiled, saying, “Whoops, I almost forgot. Your husband said you prefer your baths really hot without the bubbles.” I smiled, happy that he still remembered the small details.
As the bathtub filled, Rose opened another door that went directly into the bedroom. She opened the shuttered windows and I got an even better view of my surroundings. The furniture was dark wood, which had gently aged over hundreds of years. I slipped off my shoes and let my toes be tickled by the bear rug alongside the king-size four-poster covered by white netting. I peeked in and gleaned the satin sheets and velvet blanket. I felt like a princess.
Rose whispered for me to take my time, then said, “Dinner will not be for at least an hour and a half. There is a robe hanging behind the door and I will lay your clothes out on the bed.”
I took off my clothes, letting them fall in a heap at my feet, then tied my hair up in a bun. As I lowered myself into the water, my muscles immediately began to relax, the tension just lifting away as I picked up a washcloth and submerged it in the water before running it over a bar of soap.
I started behind my neck, the excess water dripping down my shoulders and back as I ran the cloth over my flesh. I pleasured myself, gently making circles around my full breasts and down my belly. The washcloth disappeared under the water again and found my pussy.
I basked in the glory of all that was around me: the stack of fluffy towels by the side of the tub, the cage housing two little birds in the opposite corner of the room, the sound of the washcloth lifting out of the surface and spilling water back onto my relaxed body. At that moment, I hadn’t a care in the world and I enjoyed my half-dazed, half-aroused state until the water began to cool and it was time to get out.
In my robe, I sat at the vanity to brush out my hair. It seemed I would not have to go into my suitcase for anything. I did my hair in long, soft curls, just the way Paul likes it, and then went to the bed t
o see what I was to wear. There was a note from Paul. He hoped I liked the dress he had bought for me in a little town not too far from the castle. It was wine-colored and fit tight around my chest, pushing my bosom together and up. It had a waist girdle that tied tight down the middle. The sleeves were long and hung like giant bells and the bottom of the gown was free-flowing. It fit perfectly and I stared in amazement at my reflection in the silver-framed mirror.
A short while later, a butler was sent upstairs to guide me to the dining room. I was grateful because I had no idea where it was. I was announced as I entered the room and that was when I got my first glance at Paul. Though he looked incredibly handsome, I almost giggled at the sight of him. He had really gone all out, trading in his suit for a white shirt, leather jerkin, baggy pants, and knee boots. He rose from his seat and bowed, pointing to the seat that the butler was holding out for me.
We ate our dinner, at opposite sides of the table, served to us by wonderful servants wearing white gloves. Throughout the meal, we made love with our eyes over and over again. My flesh burned and I knew that his cock was throbbing. After dinner, he offered me his arm and led me through the castle to the high tower. It was a bit windy up there, but in the darkness we danced by lantern and moonlight, a violinist playing a soft melody. I whispered a thank-you in his ear and in response got a passionate “you’re welcome” kiss. The violinist’s music grew more passionate and Paul suggested we make our way to our quarters.
We went a different way than Rose had led me earlier, actually exiting the castle and walking through an enchanting garden. Our path was guided by gas lanterns, illuminating trees that must have been hundreds of years old. We stopped at a stone bench to enjoy the cool night air. My heart raced as Paul knelt on the grass before me and buried his head between my breasts, sucking on them hard. His absence these two weeks suddenly flooded my being. I wanted him to devour me.
Paul moved downward and buried his face under my dress, biting on my thighs as he tugged on my lace panties. He pulled them down around my ankles, then spread my legs. His mouth was so warm as it covered my pussy. I wiggled a little from the intense pleasure as he licked me over and over again.
Pleasure flooded my whole body as I came, thrashing about on the stone bench, Paul fighting to hold me still. When he emerged from under my gown, his breathing was ragged and the look in his eyes was one of a man who needed to be fucked. Quickly now, we made our way to our quarters.
Once there, I went into the bathroom and put on the white chemise nightgown that had been left for me. Paul positioned me so that I was bent at the waist, holding on to one of the bedposts. I heard his pants drop and then felt the warmth of his cock on the back of my thigh as he pushed my long hair to one side and began to nibble on my ear and neck. “Put it in me,” I begged.
Paul positioned the head of his cock at my opening and slid right into me. I moaned along with him as he slowly fucked me from behind. His arm was around my waist while he used his other hand to lean against the post, keeping his balance. I felt as if my feet would come off the floor each time he pulled me back onto his shaft. Paul’s grunts and groans grew louder and more insistent. His pace quickened and I held on tight to the post, imploring him to play with my clit so that I could come with him. It was only a few more thrusts and a few more rubs on my clitoris before Paul pulled me as hard as he could onto his cock. I felt him pulsing inside me as he filled me with hot come and I shuddered through my orgasm. After a nice hot bath we retired for the evening to our satiny bed for a wonderful night’s sleep.
The rest of the weekend was just as exciting, although we didn’t get into costume every single night. We did, however, spend much of our time making love in the beautiful garden, the watchtower, and in the dimly lit staircases of our medieval castle nestled in the hills of Italy.
—S.L., New York, New York
EVENTS COORDINATOR: HOT-LOOKING COUPLES GET SPECIAL TREATMENT AT MY RESORT HOTEL
As someone who loves to experiment with sex, I read Penthouse Variations because it gives me lots of great ideas. I am the events coordinator at a small resort hotel in Barbados, and I am sometimes approached to set up a “special” event. Couples come to the islands for a little rest and relaxation, and occasionally dare to do things they would never consider doing at home. An island vacation seems to be tacit permission to experiment, and I’m just happy that I’m here to help.
Julie and Martin were looking for that kind of adventure when they arrived. She was gorgeous, in her mid-twenties, with long, blonde hair and a perfect figure. Her husband was older, with hair just beginning to gray at the temples. Checking the register, I discovered that they would be staying for a week.
I saw them again in the bar that night. He was boldly playing with her thighs through her long dress, spreading the slit apart to expose her legs to the other patrons. She would giggle and push his hand away, modestly covering up, only for him to do it again a few minutes later. Soon they got up to dance, his hands roaming over her body.
I knew right away that I wanted to meet them. Approaching their table with a round of drinks on the house, I casually commented on their displays of affection. Instead of acting embarrassed, they told me their story. They had gotten married five years earlier, soon after he had been cashiered from the navy, and they were now on their second honeymoon. Martin had been around the world and known many women. Julie had only been with her husband, and now she wanted to experiment a little. They thought that this vacation would be the perfect opportunity for her to explore one of her sexual fantasies. What Julie wanted to do was fuck another man while her husband watched and possibly joined in.
Not one to shy away from an opportunity like this, I flirted with Julie openly for the rest of the evening. Running into them the next day by the pool, Julie’s skimpy bikini only reconfirmed my desire to be their sexual guinea pig. It didn’t look as if they had found anyone else yet, so I broached the idea and they quickly agreed. “Come to my suite tonight,” I said, giving Julie’s hand a little squeeze. “I promise that you can leave at any time if you change your mind.”
That evening, I sent flowers and a bottle of champagne to their room with a note saying that I would be in my suite all night, awaiting their arrival. I changed into my robe and sipped a scotch as I waited. They arrived around nine-thirty, and when I opened the door I noticed that Martin was carrying a video camera. Seeing my glance, he commented that this was one sightseeing excursion he definitely wanted caught on tape.
He went in to set up his tripod as Julie stood in the doorway for a moment, giving me a chance to take a good look at her. She was dressed in a long white skirt and a sheer top that just barely exposed her rosy nipples. We talked for a moment as Martin made himself comfortable in a chair by the bed.
While Julie was in the bathroom, I dimmed the lights, put on some soft music, and set a glass of champagne on the nightstand for her and poured two more for Martin and myself. I sat down on the bed and made small talk with Martin as we waited for his wife’s return. The door soon swung open and Julie stood framed by the light from the bathroom. She was wearing a full-length nightgown, but the sheerness of the silky fabric made it seem as though she were wearing the skimpiest piece of lingerie.
I beckoned her to the bed and she sat down on the edge, for the first time seeming a little nervous. While her back was to me, I opened my robe and slipped it off. Leaning forward, I brushed her hair aside and nuzzled the back of her neck, whispering for her to take the champagne. She seemed startled by my closeness but gradually eased into the sensation of my mouth on her warm skin. She tasted so sweet. As she sipped her drink, I caressed her through the gown, the silky negligee whispering against her smooth flesh.
I moved toward her earlobe and took it gently between my lips. Her breathing became heavier and I sensed that she was starting to relax and respond to my attentions. Easing her back, I sought out our first kiss, barely brushing her lips, then opening my mouth wider to search out her tongue wi
th mine. As she fell back into my arms, she began exploring my naked body. Her hand stroked my thigh with a soft, almost imperceptible touch.
Gently placing her down on the bed, I kissed her throat, shoulders, and her breasts, slowly and methodically. Very slowly, I nuzzled down her cleavage, exposing more of her breasts as I unbuttoned the front of her gown. Her hand lazily caressed my face as I journeyed downward. She gasped with surprise as I caught her nipple between my lips and teased it to attention, then moved to her other breast and repeated the tonguing.
I slipped my hand down to her mound, stimulating it through the silk of her gown. Soon she had her legs spread wide, yielding every inch of her most intimate depths to my probing fingers. I flipped up the nightgown to expose her wet pussy as I glanced at her husband to see his reaction. I could tell he was enjoying the scene before him, because he had removed his pants and was stroking his erection with the hand not holding the video camera.
At my bidding Martin approached the bed. He and the camera were capturing every intimate detail, and as he zoomed in on us I buried my head between Julie’s legs and found her clit with my lips. I fanned my tongue rapidly over that tender button as she pressed her pussy into my mouth. Martin zeroed in on her dripping cunt as it gaped open under my tender attack. Small groans escaped her lips as I brought her close to orgasm, then backed off before she could come. Her frustration grew as she forgot Martin and the camera and knew only her intense need for release.
Letters to Penthouse XXVI Page 12