The next morning we got up early and drove out onto the lake for some fishing excitement. He had no idea just how exciting it was going to get! We were all alone on this northern lake, surrounded only by abandoned cabins and cold wind. After our holes were dug and the poles positioned just right, I lay my man out on the ice. The look of excitement in his eyes was priceless. I unzipped his snowsuit and very slowly pulled out his beautiful pink prick. I maneuvered myself around so I could take the whole shaft in my mouth and then proceeded to suck him until he was spinning. Every time he was about to come, I would shut him down by squeezing his large, firm balls and removing my mouth. This went on for a good half hour. By then we could hear snowmobiles buzzing around the lake, but the thought of getting caught only added to our excitement. Finally, when I knew he couldn’t take it anymore, I let him shoot his load to the back of my throat. He let out a loud scream, which echoed through the thick woods. As I removed my mouth from his rocket, I noticed that it was steaming. Vapor just kept rolling off his wonderful dick. The weekend continued for another day and a half, but now I find myself unable to continue this letter. I’m going to go find this terrific man and let him have his way with me. Or maybe I’ll have my way with him. Either way, it’s pure ecstasy!
—C. V., North Dakota
FUN AND FETISH
Let Your Fingers Do the Walking
My boyfriend Jeff and I live eight hundred miles apart, and although we get together as often as we can, there’s still considerable time between visits during which we get very horny. We usually tell each other when we’ve masturbated for relief. One Monday night when Jeff called he asked me if I was in bed. I said no. He said that he was and told me to get naked and crawl between the sheets. Although I was puzzled, I was also very intrigued and did as I was told.
When I told him that I was in bed, he told me to imagine that he was there with me, squeezing my tits and sucking on my long, hard nipples. Lying there in bed listening to him; my nipples immediately became erect and began aching for his touch. Before I knew it my free hand was massaging my breast and rubbing my nipples between my thumb and finger. It felt so good!
Then he told me to imagine that his tongue was working its way down my stomach to my navel and passed then on to my dark, clipped bush, stopping just long enough to give my swollen clit a flick of the tongue before he was off lightly to suck and nip the insides of my thighs. By then I was totally caught up in what he was saying, my juices were flowing, my pussy was soaked, my clit was throbbing, and my hand was following Jeff’s instructions as closely as possible.
Next, Jeff said to imagine that he was now working his masterful tongue back up the inside of my thigh to the sensitive skin between my thigh and my box. My hand was right there, stroking in place of his tongue. Then he said his tongue was thrusting into my cunt, lapping up my sweet nectar and working its way up my swollen lips to my clit. Then he said I should imagine that his hot, probing tongue was wrapping around my clit and pulling it gently between his lips.
At that point my fingers were trailing up my soaking pussy and, finding my clit, all I had to do was just gently rub it to have one of the most glorious orgasms ever, with Jeff softly saying on the phone, “Come, baby. Come.”
He said that was just the beginning, and I should remember one afternoon when we were out fishing— I got on my hands and knees, and he rammed his great rod into my snatch up to the hilt, filling me up while he leaned over and squeezed my aching tits. Remembering this from our last time together and recalling the feel of his come shooting into my cunt, my pussy was overflowing with nectar. My hand stroked up to my clit and before I knew it I was having another mind-blowing orgasm.
I was so ecstatic by this long-distance method of making love that as soon as I caught my breath, I told him to lie back and think of me sitting on top of him with his magnificent shaft nestled between my hot, juicy nether lips. Then I am sliding down, kissing his wonderful body, his now wet, glistening rod sliding up my stomach to my tits, where I rub it across my erect, waiting nipples. Then he could imagine me going down a little farther so that his beautiful, hard cock is waiting, poised just below my breathless, parted lips.
I told him to imagine me swirling my tongue around the head and dipping it into his hole for that first savory taste of his come. Then I am opening my mouth wider to let his whole magnificent rod slide into the back of my throat as far as it can go. Then I close my mouth tighter and let his pole slide out while sucking on it until I am at the tip again. Imagine, I said, that I have a hold of it with both hands and I’m working my tongue down the shaft to your balls, which I take into my mouth, roll them around and tongue them one after the other. At this point, I realized that my boyfriend was as excited as I had once again become, my cunt throbbing and my juices flowing. My hand crept down to give what aid it could.
I told Jeff to imagine that I was again running my tongue up the rock-hard shaft of his cock and taking the head gently between my teeth and nibbling it. I could hear the moan that always told me that he was just about to come, and so I told him to think of me sliding his magnificent member as far into my mouth as I could while he shot his load into my eagerly swallowing throat. As I was saying this, I heard him moaning that he was coming, and as he was my hand was at my clit, bringing me to another screaming orgasm.
While it will never replace our being together, the telephone has definitely become the next best thing to being there.
—E. C., Oregon
Party Favor
My husband, Jeremy, and I have been together for ten years. I was nineteen when I met him, and I was definitely not a virgin, but I’d never had experiences with other guys like I’ve had with him. We’ve done the train, plane, and automobile quickies, but a few months ago we experienced something a little more out of the ordinary.
We were at a party for an acquaintance, which started out to be fun but became pretty boring after a while. Jeremy promised me a little surprise if things got dull. We would have left early, but had driven there with some friends who had no other way home.
Jeremy was deep in conversation with some buddies of his when I slunk over to him in my very tight, very low-cut, short black dress. He was sitting down, and I leaned over him to whisper in his ear. Needless to say, his buddies got quite a view of my cavernous cleavage, and made no point of hiding the fact that they were enjoying this. I smiled and asked Jeremy when we could go and really have some fun. He said, “Follow me, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
He led me to the men’s room, but not before getting us a couple of drinks from the bar. The sneaky smile on his face left me very curious. I felt uncomfortable going into the men’s room, but he assured me he’d check to see that it was empty. He returned to say it was empty, and his surprise was in there. Well, we entered and he pulled out a package of edible his-and-her panties as he led me into one of the stalls. It was almost immediately that I felt that familiar wetness begin to emerge between my legs. “So, this is the surprise!”
Jeremy kissed me, our tongues meshing with the anticipation of what was to come. I unbuttoned his silk shirt, running my fingers down his soft chest hair, and when I reached his pants I became obsessed with unzipping them as soon as I could. My kisses then ran all the way down his muscular chest and nipples, my hands running down his back, until I reached his throbbing-hard dick with my mouth. I teased him for a few seconds while concentrating on his balls, then knelt on the floor, kissing him gently until I had his huge, pounding cock in my wet and hungry mouth. After sucking him for a pleasurable while, I told him I wanted him to try on the edible pants before he ejaculated. He obliged, quickly slipping into them, and I licked away until the sweet cherry taste dissolved in my moist mouth. I figured it was now my turn.
I asked Jeremy to unzip the back of my very sweaty dress, which he did while kissing my neck and back. Then I turned around in the small space, sat on the closed toilet seat, and pulled down my panty hose. Jeremy helped me slip on my version of the panti
es, which were grape-flavored. In a matter of seconds, it seemed, my panties were eaten away. I spread my thighs wide, and Jeremy ate me out while I tilted my head back in extreme pleasure. He told me how good I tasted, especially with remnants of grape flavor on his hungry tongue. He sucked me hard, fluttering his well-rehearsed lips and tongue all around my clit until I had to place my hand over my own mouth to keep from screaming when I came. Then I took off my dress and bra and got up, still drenched between my legs. I turned around to the sink and grabbed the edges, my nipples just inches from the faucet while Jeremy ran his fingers all over my huge, erect tits.
His fingers wandered down my tight body until he screamed, “Wow!” at how wet I was down below. When I’m horny, it’s like a spigot down there. Jeremy gently opened my legs and entered me from behind, his thrusting bringing me constant pleasure. My giant, hard tits were flopping all over the place, in tune with his movements. After a couple of minutes, we heard noises just outside the door. I hesitated, and we both kept quiet while we waited for whoever was there to get out! The devilish smiles on our faces were soon replaced by sultry, hot panting when we realized our “company” had left. By now, Jeremy was going in and out of me with a fast-paced rhythm, and he was fingering my clit to no end. It felt so incredible, I couldn’t help but scream and squeeze the edges of the sink when I came for a second time. I must’ve screamed fairly loud, because I felt Jeremy’s other hand over my mouth. Just then he came, his sweet come oozing into my snatch with full force and heat. He pulsed inside me for a few seconds, then reluctantly pulled out.
When we finally emerged from the bathroom, Jeremy checked again to see if anyone was around. When the coast was clear, we made our way back to the party.
—L. K., Pennsylvania
The Husbandly Hard-on
Many years ago, I found I was playing second fiddle to a beautiful and buxom neighbor in the important wifely function of building my man’s hard-ons. Our marriage had started much like most. We met at a college dance back in the days when you danced cheek to cheek and belly to belly, holding your partner close as your legs slid together to romantic music in a dimly lit hall. He had a terrific erection that was soon boring against my girlish vulva. For once I didn’t pull away or pretend to ignore it, but I decided to grind back as lewdly as I knew how at the age of nineteen. I whispered in his ear that he felt “just marvelous and so big.” Naturally, he asked me for a date the next night. I gave him my address, and I also told him that I hoped he would bring his “big friend.”
He did just that, and though we went to a movie, we were soon petting intensely. We left the movie early and drove to a lover’s lane, where we had sex with each other for the first time almost as soon as we arrived. When we came up for air, I began to giggle at my boldness of the night before. My wandering hands began petting him again until he had another hard-on, and then we had even better sex. This was a definite change from my usual pattern of behavior. I was not a virgin, but I had never taken such overt actions.
We married two and a half months later. Our honeymoon was sex, sex, sex day and night. I would greet him at the door with a French kiss, and I’d unzip his fly so I could stroke his penis and feel it jump to life in my fingers, even if we didn’t fall into bed immediately. This idyllic period lasted a year and a half, until he graduated. Then we moved to another city. Our relations were heavenly whenever we had them, but the frequency was far less. We rarely did it two nights in a row, and sometimes we would go almost a week without finding the time or the inclination.
Two things happened to open my eyes. First, my sister and I overheard our husbands talking to each other when they didn’t know we were around. The men were on our apartment balcony when our neighbor came out wearing a sunsuit. She was a really stunning gal, a few years older than I, a redhead (dyed, but a good job), with a pair of forty-inch honeydews straining her thin cotton halter almost to splitting, as well as practically spilling out of the deep-cut neckline. I heard my husband tell my brother-in-law that this neighbor was always giving him a hard-on. My sister’s husband replied that he was a tit man, too. He asked my guy if he had ever gotten a “piece of that,” and my husband said no, but he would like to. He grumbled that I almost never gave him a hard-on anymore. My brother-in-law said that my sister was “getting too settled down” and was always “acting like a wife.” Were we girls surprised and mad! We sneaked out of the house and went for a long ride to talk things over.
While thinking about how I had failed to remain sexy, I began to realize that my husband and I were doing so many things for the community and the church, we weren’t leaving time for a decent sex life. I knew the next move was up to me. I dispensed with girdles, which I hadn’t really needed, and I began buying sexy French undies from mail-order houses. I bought dozens of naughty panties, wicked bras with holes for my nipples to poke through, and tiny, beribboned garter belts. I would give him a show at least once a week. My new nighties were for wearing around the house, not for in bed. I would wear just a sheer slip to cook dinner in, to keep his interest up— and his penis, too.
I am careful to tell my man if another guy gets hard looking at me, and this always pleases and stiffens him. I also smooch him shamelessly at movies, cock-tail parties, even in lover’s lanes once in a while, and I don’t give a damn who knows it or thinks I am making a fool of myself. I like what he has in his pants, and that’s what I am a fool about. I have even taken hula-and belly-dancing lessons so I can keep him erect. I have bought him girlie magazines, and I’ve sent away for nude photos and porno films. I introduced him to Penthouse. I watch for sexy things to call to his attention. If I see a well-stacked woman coming along, I nudge him and point out the jiggling yummies with a manly, ribald comment.
Many women tell me that they envy my sex life and wish they could get away with my lack of inhibition, enthusiastic emphasis on bedroom activity, and determination to monopolize my husband erotically. I tell them to let themselves go, and I am quite sure some of them have done so, even after years of lukewarm, married sex.
—Name and address withheld
Blindman’s Buff
Here is what I think is a great party game, one that we students at a good Arizona college originated. It was a sultry evening, and we had a party at a male student’s apartment. As it was the beginning of the term, we didn’t know one another too well. There was one boy who had great physical attraction for me, but it was impossible to get to know him, what with a full curriculum and sports activities, and he seemed to care little for females. I’d begun fantasizing about him, but that night was my chance.
The game goes like this: Each boy or girl can cross the line and kiss someone of his (or her) choice, then follow it up with one minute of mild petting. Then the boys are sent out of the room while the girls undress. Each participant must wear a paper bag with eyeholes over his or her head to blind them and to make facial recognition impossible. The boys, fully clothed with paper bags over their heads, now enter. They grope for the object of their desire and hopefully, after much manhandling, recognize her through how they imagined she would feel like. After each boy thinks he has found who he was looking for, he puts a label with his name on it on her behind. Now the boys undress, and the girls try to identify the boys of their desire by running their hands all over each one. I imagined my fellow to be fairly well endowed, with hair on his chest and some on his belly. After about five or six explorations, during which I gauged for height, muscle tone, penis size, and hairiness, I found him—only he was smooth-skinned, had a lovely muscle tone, and what a straightforward erection! I was so sure it was him, I tried to kiss him, but then I remembered that big shopping bag on his head. I put a label with my signature on one of his hard ass cheeks.
When we took those silly bags off our heads, there was great rejoicing. I inspected the label on my ass, and lo and behold, there was my name on it with his signature.
The prize for mutual recognition was a nearby motel room, prepaid. Now Freddy
lives with me.
—Name and address withheld
For a Better Head . . .
My boyfriend sure enjoys his blowjobs, and I usually don’t mind giving them, but several weeks ago, he asked me to go down on him when I had a terrible cold. I didn’t feel like it, but after a little persuasion, I went and did it. I did not take the mentholated cough drop out of my mouth, and he said it added a special tingle to the head of his cock. In no time at all, he was coming like mad! He said that it was so good, we should share it with the public.
—Name and address withheld
A Pearl of an Idea
Last Valentine’s eve was a night I’ll never forget. George gave me the sexiest teddy I’d ever seen, and I just had to try it on right away while he opened a bottle of wine. We started to play cards, which then turned into strip poker. But since I was only wearing one article of clothing, we had to change the rules. The winner of each round was granted a sexual favor by the other. I was feeling good, wearing this little teddy, and George was ready . . . but rules are rules. Unfortunately, I was not very successful at the game, and George started the requests.
The first was for me to fuck him in my favorite position. Well, I have lots of favorites. We became really hot as we explored new favorites. . . .
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