Letters to Penthouse XVII

by Penthouse International

  “Okay, Emma,” I panted as Alex withdrew. “You’re officially ass-fuckable.”

  “All right,” she said. “But Alex and I are going to shower first.” She led him to the shower, and I heard them giggling and moaning. Left alone, Candy and I went into a 69 on the bed, and I enjoyed the ministrations of Candy’s lips and tongue while I again ate out her pussy. When I asked if she could deep-throat me, she said she didn’t know how. So when Emma and Alex came back, I asked Emma to demonstrate deep-throating to Candy.

  In a moment my wife was on her back with her head hanging down over the edge of the bed, beckoning to Alex to stick his dick in her mouth. I had expected her to demonstrate on me, but if she wanted to swallow Alex’s long dong, I was happy to watch.

  As Alex approached, she grabbed his hips and pulled him in her mouth. More and more of his snake vanished past her soft red lips, until they were buried in his pubic hair. Candy stared in amazement. Emma held him in her throat for a time, then pushed him out. Candy said she wanted to try it with me, so she lay down the same way. Emma told her to swallow hard while pulling me in. Sweet Candy got it on the second try, fucking me avidly in and out of her throat. I didn’t want to come yet, and stopped her just in time.

  Emma got up on her hands and knees as Alex fucked her from behind. Then he stopped, saying that he really wanted to pump a bucketful of come up her asshole. Emma looked nervous, but said she guessed that if I could take it, she could. I applied a liberal amount of lube to her ass, sliding my finger inside in the process, while Candy greased up her husband after slipping another condom on him.

  Candy aimed him at the target, and Alex pushed, gently. Emma gave a surprised “Ohh!” as his cockhead slipped in. She panted a couple of times, then to my surprise pushed back against him, causing him to slide several inches deeper. Hearing my wife’s moans of pleasure gave me an idea. I pulled out her big vibrator, turned it on and held it against her happy clit. It seemed to have the same kind of effect for her that Candy’s hand on my balls had had for me. She still pushed back against Alex, and a minute later his dick was buried completely in her ass.

  Alex now began to fuck her, setting up a steady rhythm, while I slipped the vibrator in her cunt and set up a kind of counterpoint. Emma began moaning and gasping loudly as Alex’s strokes became faster. It was an awesome sight as she approached her climax. Her nipples were throbbingly erect, and Candy pulled and tweaked them.

  I handed the vibrator to Candy and scooted around on the bed until I could insert my stiff dick in Emma’s moaning mouth. She sucked and licked me until I had to retreat. I was still saving up my semen. Emma finally collapsed, and lay there twitching, while Alex continued to fuck her butt, finally coming a couple of minutes later.

  We all lay there in awe, watching Emma wind down. “That was unreal!” Candy said to me. “I want you to do that to me now.”

  I wasn’t about to say no. Candy got into position, and I lubed her up, rolled on a condom and aimed my missile at her waiting rosebud. I pushed all the way in it with surprising ease, and almost immediately Candy started to come, yelling for me to drive it home. I was happy to oblige, delighting in the feel of her clinging sphincter. Candy came three times and then collapsed underneath me. Finally we staggered into the shower.

  When we returned to the bedroom, Alex was fucking Emma again. She was on her back with her knees over his shoulders, her body pumping up and down in rhythm with his. They finally came, and the four of us lay on the bed, touching each other tenderly, until Alex said it was time for them to get home. But before they left we made plans to meet again for another party the next weekend.

  After they were gone, Emma and I went back to bed. Emma slid down and began to lazily kiss and lick my cock, which was still stiff. That Viagra is powerful stuff.

  “I noticed that you didn’t come tonight, even with all the fucking you did,” Emma said. “How come, baby?”

  “I bet you know,” I said. “I was saving it all up for your ass.”

  “Oh,” she said, smiling up at me. Then she got up on her knees and elbows, her fine round ass sticking up in the air. “Okay, darling,” she said. “Your long wait is over.”

  It wasn’t until late the next day that we finally picked up our laundry.—G.H., Eugene, Oregon

  SHE SAID NO TO ANOTHER WOMAN—UNLESS THERE WAS ANOTHER MAN

  My girlfriend and I are an urban black couple, but Stacey is originally from a small farming community and was not very experienced sexually when we met in college. She was eager to learn, however, and we’ve always had a good sex life. But we didn’t have our first swinging experience until about a year ago.

  It all started with my fantasy of seeing Stacey with another woman. Sometimes while we made love I would say how much it would turn me on to see her making it with a female as gorgeous as she is. She always said she could never picture herself doing anything like that. One day she turned the tables on me, asking if I could stand to see her with another man. She described what he would do to her, and she to him. My instinctive reaction was jealousy and rage, but at the same time something deep inside me responded to this fantasy. I found myself turned on by it.

  After many months of this bedroom fantasy, I decided to take action. I mustered the courage to pick up a swingers’ magazine. I answered many ads, and met lots of people, most of whom didn’t interest me. Finally I stumbled on a “bi-curious” lady and her straight husband, Helene and Bill, a young black couple in search of another black couple for a possible good time. We spoke on the phone, then decided to meet at a downtown hotel for drinks and fun.

  They turned out to be as attractive as their pictures. Bill was tall and athletic, and Helene was five-three and very pretty. Stacey is five-seven, not as slender as Helene, but to my eyes even prettier. We had drinks, told some stories and shared some laughs. Then Bill suggested we go back to our room for a nightcap. When we got there, Helene suggested that Bill and I go get ice while she and Stacey got acquainted. As we got the ice, Bill and I discussed whether the girls would like one another. He said if he knew his wife, they’d get along fine. We agreed that as soon as we got back to the room, each of us would start making love to his own companion, just to get things started.

  Back in the room we found that the women had gotten comfortable on the bed, sitting close to one another. Bill sat next to Helene and kissed her. I dimmed the light and kissed Stacey. Gradually our clothes came off as we all made out with increasing intensity.

  At one point, while I was kissing Stacey’s naked breast, I noticed that Helene, while kissing her husband, was running her hand between Stacey’s legs. Bill quickly moved down between Helene’s legs and removed her panties. He then lowered his mouth to her pussy and ate her out like a starving man.

  I positioned myself behind Stacey, kissing the back of her neck and deliberately exposing her beautiful tits to Bill and Helene as I ran my hand inside her panties. Helene began rubbing Stacey’s flat stomach as I pulled her panties off. Stacey still wasn’t completely relaxed, but despite her self-consciousness, her pussy was dripping wet. She began to loosen up, and within a few minutes she was pushing me on my back and climbing on top of me.

  Bill had turned Helene on her stomach and was rubbing his cock against her pussy lips, getting the juices to flow. Stacey moved her mouth down to my cock and took it in slowly, sucking at it with her warm lips. Helene’s hands were all over Stacy’s beautiful ass. Bill was now fucking his wife slowly. Stacey was ready to mount me, and I slid in her easily. Helene played with my balls as Stacey bounced on my rod. My mind was swirling. I couldn’t believe we were having sex in front of another couple.

  Now Helene, without detaching herself from Bill’s dick, repositioned herself behind Stacey and between my legs. I wondered what she was doing until I felt her tongue on my balls, as Stacey continued to grind her pussy up and down on my cock. Bill was close to coming now. He grunted as he shot a load in his wife’s cunt. Stacey was shaking and moaning, and I knew she too
was on the verge of climax. Within seconds she was squealing as she bucked madly on top of me. This set me off, and I came inside Stacey like never before. She rolled off me and onto her back.

  Then came the moment I had been waiting for. Helene’s beautiful body slithered away from Bill and directly on top of Stacey. They clutched each other in a passionate kiss. Bill and I sat at the edge of the bed and watched as they became entangled. The sight of these soft, voluptuous women lying together, breasts and bodies pressing into each other, was unbelievably arousing.

  Helen’s mouth moved from Stacey’s lips to her breasts, and from there to her come-filled pussy. She pressed her face in Stacy’s pubic hair, and Stacey ground her pussy against Helene’s mouth as Helene stuck her tongue and her fingers inside her. Stacey was in ecstasy as Helene licked my come out of her. Within minutes she was writhing and grasping at the sheets, twisting back and forth and crying out.

  To my further surprise and delight, when Stacey recovered from her orgasm, she said she wanted to return the favor. Helene rolled on her back, and as Stacey kissed one of her breasts, I put my mouth on the other. Not to be left out, Bill fingered Stacey from behind. She moved down to take her place at Helene’s love pot and went to work.

  Helene reached for my cock and took it in her mouth, while Bill replaced his fingers with his tongue in Stacey’s cunt. Helene soon brought me to orgasms and swallowed as much of my spunk as she could. Bill mounted Stacey from behind as she ate out his wife’s pussy, and before long he pulled his cock out of her and came on her chocolate ass. We lay together for half an hour, caressing and kissing one another, exhausted from the night’s activities. Finally Helene and Bill got dressed and kissed us good-bye, saying they hoped we would get together again.

  Stacey and I retired to the whirlpool bath that came with the room, which soon revived us enough so that we went back to bed and made passionate love. As we fucked, Stacey kissed me and thanked me for the wonderful evening, saying she loved me more than ever. Needless to say, I feel the same about her. —D.N., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  HOW DO YOU BRING BIG BLACK STUDS TOGETHER WITH HOT YOUNG BLONDES?

  My girlfriend Rachel met our dear friend Allison a little over a year ago, when Rachel was nineteen. Allison was a lesbian at the time, though not the butch type—she was extremely feminine, and into feminine women. In her mid-twenties, Allison had green eyes, long, curly, honey-blonde hair and a body aerobicized to near-perfection. Rachel avoided Allison’s lesbian advances, and they became close friends despite their awkward start. They even shared a subscription to Penthouse Letters. Allison enjoyed the girl-girl stories, and Rachel and I often turned ourselves on by reading the magazine together.

  Not long ago Allison married her friend Harry, which surprised us all, not only because he is male, but because he is quite a bit older, and not even close to her league in looks. Actually, Rachel’s and my situation is not that much different. Rachel just recently turned twenty, and I am, let’s say, thirty-something. She is a junior at a local college, and plans to move east to study law when she graduates. That will be the end of our relationship. I’m sure she will eventually settle down in her home town and marry a man of her own faith. (She is Jewish, and I am not.)

  But for the next year and a half, I plan to enjoy every delicious second with my young kosher sex goddess. Rachel is a wet dream come true, not quite five feet, with proportionally long legs, a milky complexion, dirty-blonde hair and big, dreamy blue eyes. She is absolutely breathtaking to behold. I, on the other hand, am rather chubby and drab.

  Anyway, after Allison and Harry were married, they made it pretty obvious that they had an open relationship. One night over dinner they confided to Rachel and me that they were swingers. To prove that there was nothing sleazy about their lifestyle, they invited us to a swing party at their place. They said we could start with dinner, and we could always excuse ourselves later if we became uncomfortable. The only catch was that Rachel and I would have to pose as a married couple, since no singles were allowed. On the other hand, Allison said with a giggle, as Rachel’s husband I wouldn’t be expected to participate in any case.

  When she said that, I felt sure that it had to be a wild lesbian party, given Allison’s past history and her attempts to bed Rachel. I quickly accepted the invitation, despite Rachel’s concerned glances. I mean, what man doesn’t have fantasies about watching women perform together? I didn’t actually expect anything to happen with Rachel, but I did like the thought of seeing her socialize in such an environment. And she soon decided that it might be fun for her to tease the women a little, before leaving right after dinner.

  On the night of the party she wore a spaghetti-strap dress, short, tight and apricot-colored. She slipped on a pair of open-toed, backless platform heels. She looked very sexy, and I was especially impressed when she told me that she had shaved down below. She had never done that for me. She didn’t wear a bra either.

  We walked to the party, since Allison lived only a few doors down from us. When we entered we were greeted by a tall black man, who gave us each a drink, then conducted us down to the basement, where a bunch of people were gathered. The black man introduced himself as Ashley. His wildly long, tall frame and silky foreign accent seemed to intrigue Rachel. He was well-dressed, and I had to admit he was kind of a hunk.

  Rachel told Ashley our names, then asked how tall he was. When he said six feet ten, she kind of giggled and said, “My goodness, I’m not even five feet, But you know what they say about small packages!”

  She was definitely flirting with him, tossing her hair and smiling. I was surprised, and I wondered if I should be jealous. Ashley told us that he was a businessman, recently arrived from Africa, and that his wife worked at a local R&B radio station.

  I hadn’t had much of a chance to observe the people at the party, but now, looking around, I couldn’t help noticing that all the couples dancing and socializing there in the basement consisted of a black man—mostly very tall black men—and a beautiful blonde woman. Leaving Rachel talking intensely to Ashley, I took a look around the house. In the back yard I found half a dozen white men—evidently the husbands of the blondes in the basement—hanging out by the pool with an equal number of black women.

  It was clear now that this was not the lesbian swing party that we had envisioned. Looking around, I found Harry at the barbecue grill, and I asked him what the hell was going on.

  “What do you mean?” he said.

  “Well, how come the men in the basement are all tall black studs and the women are all beautiful blondes? What kind of setup is that?”

  Harry explained that Allison had decided to have a special party to fulfill a certain kind of fantasy. She figured that when black men fantasized about white women, they thought of high-fashion blonde beauties. And she knew as a woman that when white girls fantasized about black men, they visualized tall, imposing studly types. She had done a lot of extensive screening in order to get the best candidates.

  I didn’t know what to think about this. “What about the black wives and the white husbands?” I asked Harry. He replied that of course they were free to play as well, but that the main objective of the party was to satisfy the fantasies of gorgeous blondes who craved big black studs and vice versa.

  Rachel later told me it became clear to her that this was not a lesbian party soon after I left the basement, when Ashley asked her if her husband was all right with her being there. “Of course,” she said. “He knows I’m not a lesbian.”

  Ashley, she said, boldly looked her up and down, then took her hand and, looking directly in her eyes, said in a deep bass voice, “It pleases me that you are not a lesbian.” It was then that the truth began to dawn on her. She felt her body shaking, and her knees felt weak as he gazed at her.

  Soon after that all the guests were called to dinner. I sat next to Allison at the dinner table. When I asked her about what Harry had told me, she gave me a sly grin.

  “These are the
finest studs I could find, Nick,” she said. “The shortest one is six feet six, and they are all experienced swingers, especially with white women. See that tall woman in the blue dress? She’s English. She and her husband swapped with Harry and me once, but since she was bedded by one of the black studs, black men are all she cares about. She can’t get enough of them. She’s addicted to what we call ‘soul fucking.’ It made her husband a bit nervous at first, but now he jacks off while watching her, so he must not mind that much.”

  “Are you trying to warn me about Rachel?” I asked.

  Allison whispered, “Let’s just say that if Rachel made love to one of these men, her sexual satisfaction bar would be raised, maybe permanently.”

  This wasn’t exactly encouraging. “You think I should go along with it if she wants to do that?” I said doubtfully.

  “I think you should,” Allison replied. “She told me that her favorite stories in Penthouse Letters are the ones about white women with black men. Haven’t you noticed how aroused she gets when you read those stories together?”

  I stared at Allison, shocked. She was right. The interracial tales in the magazine always primed Rachel for a wild night of sex.

  Rachel was very quiet during dinner. She seemed distracted, and several times I caught her stealing glances at Ashley, sitting across from her. I realized that he was under the impression that Rachel was my wife, and that she was there to please and be pleased by a large black man. Obviously he intended it to be him.

  After dinner I asked Rachel if she wanted to leave, as we had originally planned. Hearing this, Ashley asked if we might not stay a little while, so that he could have a dance or two with my wife.

  I could see that she wanted to do it. I didn’t know how far she planned to go—if she had any plans—but it was obvious that she was smitten with this man. I didn’t feel I had much choice but to go along. Besides, I had to admit that deep down I felt a kind of excitement about what might happen. There was, after all, something arousing about the idea of this enormous black giant with my petite blonde Jewish girlfriend.