Letters to Penthouse XVII

by Penthouse International

  Although we don’t socialize with our neighbors Delia and Lon, we’re cordial when we see each other. Delia is in her late thirties, five-seven, with short black hair. Despite having two teenage kids, she has kept her body quite well-toned. One Saturday last summer, after my wife left for a weekend visit to our eldest daughter, I put on a pair of running shorts and my “lawn-mowing shoes” to tackle the weekly yard chores.

  By the time I completed them, the sun was really beating down. Using the garden hose, I washed the grass and sweat off me. Then I grabbed a cold beer and sat on the small side-entry deck leading into the garage. I was about to doze off when I heard a car pull up. It was Delia. I couldn’t help but notice as she got out of her car how “hot” she looked in her yellow-and-blue-print sundress.

  Being polite, I said, “Hi, Delia. You look nice today. If it weren’t Saturday, I would think you had been at work.”

  As she walked toward where I was sitting, she said that she had indeed been at work. They were wrapping up a special project, and she had gone in to organize the results.

  I was sitting on the garage stoop with my feet resting on the ground, my knees slightly spread and my arms propping me in an upright position. As we continued our small talk, I noticed Delia glance nervously toward my crotch, until she said, “You might want to be careful. You’re about to get a sunburn where I don’t think you really want to.”

  I didn’t have anything on under my shorts, and I realized I was “exposed.” Figuring she had already seen the “goods,” I made no move to conceal myself, but I did apologize for possibly embarrassing her.

  “I’m not embarrassed,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to get burned.” She fumbled around, then finally asked, “Just how big is it?”

  I smiled and said, “You know, I honestly don’t know. But I have a tape measure inside. We can go and measure it.” I started nudging her toward the garage door.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to know,” I said. “But I’ve been asked that before, and it seems like now would be a good time to answer the question. I think I’ll go ahead and check it out.”

  I entered the garage. She followed, closing the door behind her. I didn’t know how far this might go, but I was anxious to find out.

  Pointing to a wing-backed chair I was planning to reupholster, I said, “While I find the tape measure, why don’t you relax?”

  I fumbled around my workbench until I found the tape measure. I turned to face Delia and handed it to her. I lowered my shorts and stepped out of them, then stood next to her with only my “mowing shoes” on.

  Seated as she was, her head was just higher than my semihard cock. I placed my hand at the base, pointed it toward her and said, “The only way to get a true reading is to measure from the base when it’s erect.” I reached down and placed her left hand on my cock. “Would you help me get it ready to measure?”

  She closed her fingers around the base and began to run them up and down the shaft. The tape measure fell from her hand into the chair cushions. I placed her right hand on my scrotum. She stroked my dick with her left hand and massaged my balls with the right. She began to really get into it.

  Not surprisingly, her efforts were producing the desired effect. She was breathing in rapid puffs of excitement. Looking up at me, she said, “You know we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “You know,” I replied, “it might help the cause if you kissed it a bit.”

  She responded by kissing the peehole, then sliding her lips around the tip. Soon she was trying to engulf me. However, there was about half of my shaft she couldn’t get in her mouth. She began an up-and-down motion along it, intermixed with licking the head and circling her tongue around it, along with light squeezing and stroking of the shaft and balls. She ran her tongue down the shaft and sucked my balls in turn.

  Delia really knew what she was doing. It took only a few minutes before I felt a giant orgasm coming. I said I was about to come. She moved her mouth back up my shaft to suck in the head while working her hands vigorously over the shaft. I let go of what felt like one of the largest loads of my life. She gulped down every drop.

  Delia looked up into my eyes and licked her lips. I took her hands in mine and lifted her to a standing position. I tilted my head and touched my lips to hers. Her mouth accepted my tongue. I tasted my own come. She put her arms around my neck and drew me so close, you couldn’t have inserted a piece of paper between us.

  We proceeded to tongue-dance. The feeling of my nude torso against her clad body, in my garage, with all that had happened and was about to happen and, even though slight, the possibility of getting caught, added to the wicked excitement.

  After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, I released Delia and took a step back. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “A little nervous, probably from the excitement,” she replied. “But I’ve never felt so sexually alive.”

  Taking her by the hand, I moved her to the side of the chair, bent her over and lifted her skirt above her waist. I pulled a beer cooler over, sat down behind her and took in the sight of her—encased in light-blue panties with a wet crotch, a few stray pubic hairs jutting out the leg of her panties. Moving my face in, I inhaled the aroma of a woman obviously excited. I had to taste her.

  I closed my mouth on the crotch of her panties and took in whatever nectar I could. At the same time I reached up, grabbing the waistband of her panties, and lowered them. When they were below her knees, she stepped out of them.

  I placed a hand on each of her enticing ass cheeks. Spreading them slightly, I ran my tongue from the top of her ass crack to the start of her pussy, pausing to lick her puckered rear passage. She was moaning and involuntarily rotating her hips. My tongue traced its way down, and I began to tongue-fuck her sweet twat in earnest.

  I moved one hand to caress her soft pubic mound and massage her clit. With the other hand I played with her nether hole. After several minutes, my mouth and the hand working her clit traded places. I alternated fucking her clit with my tongue and sucking it in my mouth. I inserted first one, then two fingers in her hole.

  I moved my hand so my fingers would have access to her G-spot. Her body convulsed, and juices ran freely over my hand. I lapped up the nectar as rapidly as I could. Slowly, I inserted the middle finger of my other hand up her anus. She gasped, and as my finger sank in up to the second knuckle, she underwent another convulsion.

  Panting, she said, “I’ve got to have you inside me.”

  We stood up. With a hard-on as stiff as an iron bar, I moved around and sat on the chair. She positioned herself facing me, straddling me with her knees wedged between my hips and the arms of the chair. She lowered herself on my cock.

  I had not yet seen her breasts. I lowered the straps of her sundress and pulled the dress down, exposing her glorious mounds. They were almost perfect. Firm and just over a handful, capped by dark-rose-colored, quarter-size areolae with nipples that stood out a quarter of an inch.

  Delia was making movements of indescribable pleasure on my cock. I kneaded and suckled her breasts, switching back and forth. It turns out she has very sensitive breasts. As I continued to manipulate and taste them, her breathing rate increased, her pelvic gyrations intensified, and she flexed her vaginal muscles, as if trying to milk my cock.

  I knew what was coming, and as I began to pump my seed in Delia, we cried out together. She collapsed in my arms. I felt my come draining out of her onto my crotch. It was a feeling of total sexual satisfaction.

  We never did measure my cock that day. And, each of us valuing our marriage, we agreed that this should be a one-time experience. That’s a promise that we have not quite been able to keep, but that’s another story—N. R., Larchmont, New York

  SHE HAS TO TAKE CARE OF HER MOUNTING EXCITEMENT WHILE SHE WAITS FOR HIM

  It is late November. The warmth of the sun woke me, and I
found that everything had been covered in a few inches of fresh snow.

  I made my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and headed for the bay window in the bedroom. There were no signs of movement outside except a small bird leaving tracks under the feeder. My hands were wrapped tightly around the cup, and the heat from it made a small ring of steam on the window. I could not refrain from drawing a small heart on the window, just like an innocent child.

  The fire had burned all through the night, and reviving it took just a few stokes and some more wood. I sat on the hearth, sipping my coffee. The heat of the fire warmed his shirt against my body. I smiled, thinking of what the next days would bring. I stepped away just long enough to start the shower, then scooted back to the warmth of my place by the fire. I finished my coffee, then went to grab a pair of jeans and a shirt.

  Clothes in hand, I opened the bathroom door. Steam poured out. I shut the door quickly behind me to keep the steam in. I unbuttoned my shirt slowly in a striptease kind of way. I lowered it slowly, and the mirror captured my shoulders and my back, until the shirt stopped at the small of my ass, before falling to the floor.

  I turned to face the reflection of my body, and smiled. I ran my fingers in the hollow of my neck and followed it down between my breasts, palming my stomach and then running my fingers through the short hair below. My attention focused on my breasts. My open hand found its way around both, caressing them in small circles. I enjoyed the softness of my hands and all that they’re capable of.

  I leaned back against the wall, with one leg bent. My hand moved to the inside of my thigh, and with long, deliberate strokes I caressed the mound I saw in the mirror. The room was steamy, and so incredibly hot. I could barely see all the places my fingers were running. But I felt them working their magic. I arched my head back against the wall as I quickened the pace. I was so close to coming, but I had the ability to tease myself, and slowed down to enjoy it all a little longer.

  Beads of sweat trickled down between my tits, and with heavy breaths I turned slowly to face the vanity. Now I had mirrors in front of and behind me. I spread my legs slightly as I reached in the drawer, found my little toy and turned it on. Its little hum broke the silence. I ran it over my breasts, then down to my lower lips. The feeling was so intense, and it was so hot in there!

  Holding the toy like a dagger, I ran it lightly back and forth, playing a sensual game with myself. As I inched it back farther, it came in contact with my juices and took on a life of its own. Looking up at the image in front of me, I smiled as the tip parted my lips and reached closer to my hole. I barely slipped the head in, then quickly withdrew it. This is the kind of power to play with.

  Looking up at the mirror, I saw the reflection of the back of my body, and could watch as I slowly penetrated myself. My arm shook as it steadied my body and I fucked myself to the rhythm in my head. My muscles clenched automatically around the toy buried deep inside. I slowed down, only to find I couldn’t stop the spasms. I had set in motion an early-morning orgasm.

  Lingering alone, I slid down on the cool floor and continued to pump back and forth until my muscles quieted down. As I pulled out, my juice collected in a small circle beneath me. I laid my toy on the counter and escaped to the shower.

  My hands washed over all the parts they had just finished touching. I dropped the sponge and slid a finger in my incredibly wet hole. I easily came once again.

  I stepped out, dried off and dressed. It was only hours now till he arrived. A simple dinner was cooking. I assumed after the long drive he would want to eat a little, smoke some and then relax for the night.

  All I could do was dream of him, as my husband slept a few feet away. In the morning we had some breakfast and small talk, until he left for work, leaving the two of us alone for the entire day.

  He took a walk, and I cleaned up breakfast. My husband called at lunch to see how things were going.

  He was kissing my neck from behind as I reported that we were doing fine. When he spun me around, I dropped the phone to my side. He took my face passionately in his hands and pushed his tongue deep inside my mouth. He backed me against the counter, lifted my shirt and sucked my tits with great force.

  I felt the wetness building and returned the phone to my ear to say I loved him and we’d see him later. The tension was overwhelming.

  He sat by the fire, and I laid my head on his lap. We talked, and he ran his fingers through my hair. I stroked his thigh as my eyes focused on the bulge just inches from my mouth. He moved me to the floor and straddled me. He lifted my shirt, grabbed both tits and sucked as hard as I could stand. I arched my back to push harder, and he sucked harder. He spread my legs and straddled my thigh, then began to fuck it slowly.

  The heat from the fire was so intense. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them partway down. His hands rested on my thighs and hips as he lowered his mouth, working his tongue gently over my lips. My hands grabbed and bunched the rug beneath us. I lifted my hips to push harder against his tongue.

  With my legs trapped by my jeans, I couldn’t change positions. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to me. He responded by lying down, lifting my ass off the ground and launching into a tongue fuck whose equal I had never known. My moans were short and strong. Each time he hit the spot, he was told, and soon he was licking only where I moaned. I exploded.

  He licked me softly to the end. I pulled him up so his body rested on mine. I felt his dick pulsing against my lips. We kissed passionately.

  Rolling over, I was now able to remove my jeans to free my legs. I unzipped his jeans and slid them off, and was free to enjoy all that had been trapped. I crawled up to above his head and kissed the sweetest lips. I moved down to his chest, kissing every inch. Farther down, I kissed the trail of hair that led to that beautiful cock. My kisses were reciprocated on my stomach.

  Soon I was straddling his face, and my lips were wrapped around the dick I ached to taste. Taking it in both hands, I placed it at the opening of my mouth and released my hold. I took every inch of him in my mouth until I was balls-deep. Rising on all fours, I moaned at the touch of his dick at the back of my throat.

  His body tightened at my moans, and I couldn’t stop. I ran my tongue up his shaft, then released a low moan on my way back down. I was treated to a little tongue myself, and soon my body was fucking his face. My hands reached for his ankles and spread him wide. My mouth was fucking his dick as I ground my pussy in his face.

  Suddenly his tongue pushed in my hole. Instinctively, I sucked him as hard as I could. My body started to shake. I wanted to come with him. I reached up and slid a finger in his ass as he was pulling my hips down on his tongue. Within seconds our bodies tightened, and he emptied his load down my throat. My come spilled into his mouth. I had just witnessed and felt all through my body the power of this man.

  The afternoon was spent in wet, wrinkled clothes. Dinner, some wine and some smoke capped off our night. My husband and I retired.

  But I had to finish what had been started. Quietly, I slipped from bed and headed downstairs. He was lying on the couch in the dark, in just jeans, smoking a cigarette. I came up behind him and pressed my mound to his head. He reached up to stroke my breasts. I had had eight hours of foreplay. Now I simply wanted to fuck him.

  He stood up to remove his jeans. Kneeling in front of him, I kissed gently at the dick that was released from his pants. As he sat back on the couch, I lifted my teddy and lowered myself onto him. I released a deep moan, and he sighed. The silk of my teddy slipped down over my ass and fell over his balls. I took some material in my fingers and ran it in tight circles over his balls.

  He leaned forward with an open mouth to nibble on my tit and fondle the other one. I leaned forward to bury them in his face. His hands took hold of my waist, and I arched back. He was taking control now. He lifted me up so he was barely in me. I stayed suspended like that until finally he lowered me. He continued this up-and-down motion in long, deliberate stokes. He was stroking h
imself with my cunt!

  As he concentrated, he seemed to get harder. His eyes traveled up from his dick and locked on mine. He seemed lost, and kissed me. He relaxed, and his hands fell to the side. I ran my hands down his arms, and our hands locked.

  I pulled his arms up to the top of the couch and began to ride his massive cock. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the ride. On each thrust, my entire body was touching his chest. Soon I felt it coming. Our hands squeezed tighter. His eyes opened. Our tongues were embedded in each other’s mouth. I moaned in his open mouth as I felt all we had waited for start to build.

  Released from the kiss, we locked eyes, and I beckoned every ounce of energy that I had as we fucked harder and faster. His hands reached around to my back as he fucked me harder and harder. He was holding me so tight and close that I was locked into the fucking that I was getting.

  I let out rhythmic moans each time he slammed himself inside me. This was it! Sure enough, with one more thrust I released all that had been building up all day. My muscles tightened around him, and I felt his body tighten to come with mine. Our bodies glowed and our breathing was heavy, and I found myself slipping down between his legs. He smiled coyly as I handed him his jeans. I held out my hand, and he reached for mine.

  I led him to our bedroom and he sat gently on the edge of the bed. I put my finger to my mouth in a “shhh!” kind of motion, and lifted my teddy up over my head. On all fours, I climbed quietly up to my sleeping husband’s mouth and lowered myself onto him. Instinctively, his tongue licked the juice that had just been deposited there.

  The silence was broken only by the sound of his best friend’s zipper.—N.A., Augusta, Maine

  Domination & Discipline

  A THIRD PERSON JOINS THEIR GAME TO SEE WHO WILL BE THE SEX SLAVE OF THE DAY

  My wife Rose and I are both in our forties, and we both have fairly good jobs. We’re not rolling in money, but not hurting either. I work for a mid-size multinational corporation, and Rose works in a technical capacity for one of the larger hospitals in the area. We have been married for seventeen years and have a ten-year-old daughter.