Letters to Penthouse XXVI

by Penthouse International

  I reached down to help Anna up, but she pushed my hands away and knelt in front of my bobbing erection. Sticking out her tongue, she swiped at the head, and I groaned. As I leaned against the cool stone wall of the cave, her tongue strokes covered my entire length. When she opened her mouth wide and swallowed me, I held on to the back of her head and guided my dick down her throat.

  Anna moved back and forth over my cock, my balls practically resting on her chin at times. She steadied herself by gripping my asscheeks, her fingers pressed into my flesh. As she drew her mouth off the tip of my cock, she’d stop and suck just that. Then she’d run her mouth back over my length, covering me with warm saliva.

  I was coming within minutes; there was no way I could hold back. Anna was a talented cocksucker, and after a few more passes of her lips and tongue I was shooting buckets of semen down her throat. She swallowed it, smiling, then licked my cock and balls clean of what little come she’d missed.

  I pulled Anna up to me, my now-soft cock flat against her belly. When we heard voices, we quickly got ourselves together and made our way back out to the light of day. Squinting in the sun’s glare and giggling, we got on the boat and headed back to the mainland. We were both famished, so we stopped for a late lunch/early dinner at a small restaurant serving South Indian delicacies, since Anna is vegetarian.

  Afterward, we went to a Bollywood cinema, which Anna insisted was a necessity when visiting Bombay. However, the four-hour film was entirely in Hindi, a language that neither of us really understood, so we spent most of it necking in the back row. Then we strolled down the promenade along Marine Drive, watching the sunset, and I think we shocked some of the natives with our display of public affection. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, so Anna suggested we head back to her hotel in South Bombay.

  Anna let us in and we immediately fell to the bed, tearing off each other’s clothes. I landed on my back and pulled Anna down on top of me, her pussy resting on my stomach as her plump breasts flattened against my chest. She gave me a kiss, and even after a spicy Indian meal, she still tasted like berries. My cock bobbed impatiently against her ass, wanting a taste of its own.

  Needing it as badly as I did, Anna moved down to impale herself on my member, letting out a long sigh as her wet heat swallowed me inch by inch. When she reached the bottom, she drew herself up, then shoved right back down. As her cunt slid over my cock, her breasts were bouncing against her chest and her hair flew wildly around her face. I reached up to pinch and twist her nipples between my fingers and her face contorted in total bliss. I’m sure I had a similar expression gracing my own face, as I had never before felt anything as heavenly as when her ass rested against my balls after a hard shove downward.

  We were both racing toward orgasm, but I wanted to prolong the experience of making love with this incredible woman. Lifting her off my cock, I positioned her on her hands and knees and moved behind her. Then I lined up my cockhead between her puffy labia and shoved inside. Anna lurched forward with the impact, but quickly recovered and jerked back, filling her cunt with my dick. She wanted to bring us to orgasm, but it was my turn to take control. I grabbed on to her hips and held her still, sawing in and out. My balls slapped against her thighs as I fucked her, and soon her canal closed in on my shaft. It held me so tight I could barely move, and so I let go, my balls unloading deep into her womb.

  Anna spent the rest of her vacation with me, and we kept in touch after she left. When my Indian program was complete, I returned to the States to finish grad school. Anna moved to the city to be with me, and it wasn’t long before we were married. We couldn’t afford a honeymoon in Bombay, but we plan to get back there as soon as we can. However, whenever I come home after a long day of work and catch the succulent scent of curry, I know that my wife is in a sensual mood and it’s going to be a wonderful night.

  —C.H., Bridgeport, Connecticut

  OF SUSHI, SAKE, AND STRIKEOUTS

  There are two things I love most in this world, travel and baseball. So I try to combine the two as much as possible, like road-tripping to minor-league games and visiting as many of the classic stadiums as possible before they all disappear. I’ve even seen a few Mexican League games. But I’d never been to a baseball game in Japan.

  That changed recently, when I was sent to Tokyo on business at the height of baseball season. So I packed a mitt as well as my laptop, and then I set out for the Far East, filled with excited anticipation for sushi, sake, and strikeouts. Well, I got all that, plus a whole lot more!

  After the long flight I went straight to my hotel. I’d had my assistant book me into a ryokan, which is a traditional inn complete with futons, Japanese meals, and rice-paper walls, rather than the Western hotel where my associates were lodged. When I arrived, I asked the innkeeper about getting tickets for a ball game. Unfortunately, he knew about as much English as I knew Japanese and wasn’t any help. Then came a voice from behind me.

  “I can help you,” said a woman in heavily accented English. Miki worked for the ryokan, and it was my good fortune that she spoke fluent English and knew a thing or two about baseball. She offered to get me tickets and said she would even show me around the city if I was interested.

  Of course I was interested! Not only did I appreciate Miki’s help, but she was a beautiful woman, with large, dark eyes framed by feathery eyelashes, high cheekbones, and pouty lips. Her hair caught the light from above and glinted black and navy. She was petite but feminine, with firm breasts that were slightly on the smaller side of average. My cock hardened as I accepted her invitation, and I briefly wondered if this was a service offered to all the guests or if Miki had just taken a liking to me.

  I met her later that night for dinner. She took me to a restaurant that specialized in nabemono, a stew that you cook at your table by dipping a variety of meats, vegetables, and noodles in a large pot of boiling broth. It was delicious, and we washed it down with Guinness, which is one of the most popular beers in Japan.

  After dinner, I gave Miki a kiss on the cheek to say thank you. As I did, she turned her head and kissed me back—full on the lips! I was really very surprised. Although I was attracted to her, I’d never expected anything sexual to occur. Responding to Miki’s advances, I embraced her tightly as her tongue slipped into my mouth. Her breasts pressed against my chest and I could feel her stiffened nipples.

  Then she pulled away and hailed a passing cab to bring us back to her tiny apartment. I slipped off my shoes at the door, and the rest of my clothes followed soon after as she practically tore them off me. She also got naked in a hurry and then pulled me down onto her futon.

  Miki lay on her back and I kissed my way first up one leg and then down the other, at which point I stopped to suck on her toes. Then I kissed back up her legs again. Her thighs parted each time I got close to her sex, and her arousal was evident by the scent of her feminine musk and the dampness streaking her thighs. Bringing my mouth to her pussy, I softly licked each flower-petal lip before delving into her hot, wet center. She sat up and gripped my head tightly in her hands as I furiously ate her. I sucked her tiny pearl of a clit until she was crying out with joy, and when I made my tongue into a point and fucked her with it she squealed words I couldn’t understand, but I think she was telling me she was coming.

  Satiated, Miki slid into my arms and gave me a long, passionate kiss. Licking her own juices off her lips, Miki moved to my nipples and sucked each one in turn. I am highly sensitive there for a man, and she had me groaning and shaking within minutes. My cock had become painfully hard, and she finally took it in her mouth, enveloping my dick in a wet heat that sent my senses into overdrive. My balls twitched as I came just a few seconds later and shot my come down her throat. I couldn’t believe I’d come so soon, especially since I had really wanted to fuck her beautiful pussy. Miki said that we would find time to make up for it and gave me a kiss. Then she took me back to the ryokan so I would be well rested for my morning meeting.

  I
was still pretty tired the next morning, but the meeting was a success regardless. I bagged a new client for my company, even though my thoughts were mostly with Miki. When I was done I went back to the inn, where I washed up and changed. Miki was meeting me a little while later to take me to a baseball game. The Yomiuri Giants, who are the most popular team in Tokyo, weren’t playing that night, so she’d gotten tickets for the Nippon Ham Fighters, another one of the city’s four teams and, I was to learn, her favorite. I didn’t care who we saw—I was just excited to be going.

  We took the subway to the stadium, which was packed. Right from the beginning the experience was a little strange, as everything seemed familiar yet different. The concession stand sold sushi and dried fish snacks, and I bought a cup of fresh draft beer from a girl dispensing it from a keg strapped to her back. But most surprising was the passion of the fans—they were even louder than those in America, if you can believe that. Everyone had a noisemaker, which they’d use at the slightest provocation. Miki cheered louder than anyone else there, especially since the Fighters were winning. I got caught up in her excitement, which she often exhibited by squeezing my thigh or grabbing my upper arm. By the end of the game I was really turned on, and I conveyed this to her by giving her a long, hard kiss while grinding my hard-on against her crotch.

  Luckily, Miki was as aroused as I was and ready to fuck, but we didn’t want to take the time to go back to her place or the ryokan. Instead we went to what the Japanese call a “love hotel,” which is an accommodation that charges by the hour. They don’t pretend they don’t know what you’re there for, but it’s really private, as payment is made through a curtain so that the clerk never sees your face. Apparently, this is a fairly common practice in Japan and lots of people use them. I found it just a little bit nasty, which only fueled my lustful desire.

  We stripped as soon as we got inside our room, since knowing that the meter was ticking brought our excitement up another notch. This time we decided to forgo the oral sex and barely bothered with foreplay—I was leaving for Kyoto the next day and wanted to fuck Miki before I did. She clearly wanted it as badly as I did and got on her hands and knees, wagging her cute ass in invitation.

  I knelt behind her and reached around to pinch her nipples until they became stiff points. I had my own “stiff point” aimed straight at her cunt, so I grabbed her hips and wedged my cockhead in her hole. Miki leaned back to impale herself on my cock and her pussy sucked me in, swallowing my entire length as I let out a long, deep groan. She felt wonderful, warm and wet and inviting, and I stayed completely still for a moment just enjoying the intense sensation.

  But Miki was unable to wait any longer, and her eyes flashed as she glanced back and demanded that I fuck her. “Yes, ma’am!” I laughed and began thrusting my hips back and forth, repeatedly filling her with my bloated cock. She shouted “More!” and so I gave it to her, pounding into her sweet pussy until we were bouncing on the bed and my balls were slapping against her upper thighs.

  As I fucked her, Miki started cursing in Japanese again. At least I think she was cursing, and I was doing the same, yelling, “Oh, fuck, oh, yeah, damn, I’m gonna come,” over and over. My cockhead scraped along her smooth passage as we frantically coupled, racing toward orgasm while at the same time trying to hold back as long as possible. Finally, we reached the breaking point, Miki a few seconds before me, and the pulsing of her pussy against my shaft triggered my explosion. As my dick squirted come I pumped into her more and more slowly, until my balls were empty. Then I pulled out and lay beside her.

  We left the love hotel soon after. Miki escorted me back to the ryokan and kissed me lightly on the cheek as we parted. I still have a souvenir pennant from the Fighters’ game to remember my Japanese travels, and hopefully my business will take me back to Tokyo someday so I can see Miki again. All in all, it was a very successful trip. Baseball and sex—what more could a red-blooded American guy ask for?

  —C.T., Via E-Mail

  VIVA PUERTO RICO! TRAVELING COMPANIONS FIND NEW PLEASURES IN OLD SAN JUAN

  My best friend, Sara, and I wanted to temporarily escape the rigors of our last year of graduate school, so we decided to head down to Puerto Rico for a relaxing and hopefully fun-filled respite that would offer us a little bit in the way of culture as well. We didn’t pack much more than our bikinis, flip-flops, shorts, hiking shoes, and a couple of sundresses. In our late twenties, Sara and I are both active and athletic, but the demands of our doctorate program leave us little time for boyfriends, so we were looking forward to finding some hot guys to add a little spice to our vacation.

  When we arrived in San Juan, it was still early in the day, so we stuffed our bags in a locker before heading out to explore Old San Juan. We approached the walled city and cobblestoned streets and breathed deeply, feeling as though we’d been taken back in time. Since both Sara and I are studying history, any time we are confronted with the remnants of an era long gone, it fills us with a sense of wonder and romantic nostalgia for the past. We share this intense passion for history, which is probably why we’re such good friends and make such excellent travel companions.

  As we walked through the narrow streets lined with buildings in an array of Caribbean pastels, we read passages from our guidebook that described the numerous attacks on Old San Juan. Striking images of tenacious fighting and struggles for survival filled our heads as we came face-to-face with the formidable fortress of El Morro, which dates back to the sixteenth century. We touched its walls—that we read were fifteen feet thick—and smiled at each other as we shared the pleasure of its rich history right before us.

  Moving along, we bought a bag of cenapas—a local fruit that looks like a huge bunch of green grapes but has a tough skin that we later learned you had to bite through to get to the fleshy pink fruit inside—and then headed toward El Castillo de San Cristóbal, the twin structure of El Morro on the northeastern side of the city. We stopped to peer into the Casa Blanca and Iglesia de San José and every other courtyard and building along the way.

  Feeling very touristy, Sara and I snapped pictures of each other in front of practically every building, futilely trying to eat cenapas and just being goofy and enjoying ourselves. As Sara posed in front of La Catedral de San Juan and I got ready to shoot, a man tapped me on the shoulder and offered to take a photo of both of us. Of course, he first showed us, in the most charming way possible, how to properly eat that elusive fruit, so we could pose properly with them in our mouths instead of fumbling with them in our hands. Then, letting my city-wise attitude fall away, I handed over my camera to this handsome stranger and joined my friend in a silly pose.

  He said, “Smile,” in a delightful accent and handed me back the camera as another man rushed quickly over to him. They introduced themselves to us, and it turned out that Rob was from New York and was in Puerto Rico visiting his cousin, Marco, our gentleman photographer. Marco was showing him around Old San Juan before they headed to Culebra, a group of islands off the eastern coast, to snorkel and dive along its spectacular coral reef. An invitation to join them followed soon after we all sat down for a drink at a nearby café.

  It quickly became clear that Sara and Rob were attracted to one another, she being a dark-haired beauty with bright green eyes and he a tall, blue-eyed man with sandy-brown hair. As for me, I couldn’t stop staring into Marco’s coffee-brown eyes. I ached to touch the sun-bleached hair on his darkly tanned, muscled arms.

  It was decided that Sara and I would fetch our bags and spend the night at Marco’s apartment in San Juan before catching a ferry to Culebra the next morning. After dropping our bags off at Marco’s, Sara and I showered and changed into cute little sundresses, then joined the men on the balcony before heading out for dinner.

  Marco came out carrying a tray of piña coladas for us, with extra-spiced rum, and we all toasted the adventurous trip ahead of us. It was then that I really noticed how sexy Marco was, with his freshly washed hair slicked back off his chis
eled face and his eyes dark and penetrating. When he looked at me, admiring the curves of my body in my tightly fitted pink dress, I felt as though he were looking right through my clothes to my naked skin!

  After a gourmet dinner at a local restaurant, consisting of arroz con pollo, tostones, meat empanadas, and the local delicacy, asopao, Marco and I shared flan for dessert, with him feeding me spoonfuls of the silky yellow custard. When I missed a spot on my mouth, he leaned forward and kissed it off me, letting his lips just barely graze mine. My thong was so drenched by that point that I was almost afraid to stand up. But I did, without hesitation, when Marco asked me to dance with him.

  Once on the dance floor, the band played a rapid Latin beat. Marco’s strong arms held me tightly around my waist as my braless breasts bounced softly against his hard chest. In accented but perfect English, he told me I was beautiful and that he couldn’t wait to show me more of his island. I thought to myself that I couldn’t wait to see more of him, and when I felt the protrusion of his hard-on against my leg, I knew I wouldn’t have to wait long. Slyly looking over and catching Sara’s eye, I could tell that she and Rob were in much the same place.

  Dinner over, the four of us strolled back to Marco’s place, with Marco leading the way and pointing out sights along the scenic route he chose. Soon after arriving at Marco’s apartment, Sara and Rob drifted into the back bedroom, leaving Marco and me seated on the living-room couch. He leaned over and kissed me deeply, with more passion than I’d felt in a long time.