“Now stick your thumb in your pussy,” he instructed. “Roll it around slowly, back and form and from side to side.” I did as I was told. Unable to resist the temptation to anticipate his next request, I also pumped my thumb in and out of my pussy like a cock. I could hear Gary on the phone, telling me to run my fingers back and forth over my clit. “Faster! Faster!” he urged.
The car seat was in the full reclining position and my legs were spread wide apart on the dashboard.' ‘Do you have anything in the car that you could fuck yourself with?’ Gary asked.
Remembering the bag of groceries in the backseat, I told him, “How about a carrot?”
“Perfect,” he said. “Wiggle it against your clit for a moment, then plunge it into your cunt. Slide it in and out of your wet pussy. That's it, use deep thrusts.” I did so and the sensation was incredible. As I fucked myself with the carrot, my thumb kept hitting my clit, driving me wild.
I could feel the juices flowing from my pussy. I imagined that it was Gary's cock, and not a carrot, inside me. I begged him to fuck me harder. “I want to come,” I pleaded. “Ram me, Gary. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
“God, are you hot,” he said. “You're swallowing me up! That's it, take it all!”
I slid the carrot in and out, in and out. As I pumped, my moans grew louder. Fortunately the phone was in a secluded area and there was no possibility of anyone coming by. “Stick the carrot all the way into your cunt and leave it there,” was Gary's next instruction. “Now frig your clit. Give it everything you've got. I want you to make yourself come. But don't move that carrot!”
The minute I started wiggling my clit, I felt the orgasm build up inside me. It started with a tingle in my toes. Then my legs weakened and the rest of my body followed. I squealed into the phone as I climaxed. The orgasm washed over me like the waves of a powerful sea. My whole body was transported, exhausted with pleasure.
“Now,” Gary said, “pull the carrot out. Nice and fast.” He knew exactly what he was doing. No sooner did I yank the carrot from my pussy than I came again. The sudden motion made my cunt erupt with wetness, and made my voice erupt with a moan that was probably heard for miles.
I have learned that sex is best when it holds some surprise. These telephone sessions with Gary are always different and unpredictable. They are, by a landslide, the best sexual experiences I have ever had. If any of your readers are afraid or embarrassed to explore their deepest fantasies with a lover in person, they should try doing so on the phone. I have a feeling they will be astounded by the results.—B.L., St. Louis, Missouri
A SOLO ORIGINAL
Like many of your readers, I grab your magazine as soon as it hits the newsstand, and like many of your readers, I am greatly turned on by the letters and pictorials. I masturbate looking at those fantastic asses, tits, and cunts. I especially like the ones showing two girls getting it on.
Now, the difference is that I am female. I am twenty-six years old, and my measurements are 38-25-37. I am divorced and live alone and I don't have to work, so this leaves me with plenty of time for my favorite hobby, mainly jerking off my cunt to fantastic orgasms. I am a compulsive masturbator. I have jerked my cunt to a juicy orgasm as many as thirty times in a day. Allowing eight hours for sleep, that's as much as twice an hour. I don't suppose this is a record, but I would like to hear from other readers on this. I never play with my pussy less than a dozen times a day. Sometimes I have three orgasms before I even get out of bed.
Although I have never had sex with a woman, my fantasies during masturbation most often involve lovely girls with big tits and nicely rounded asses and juicy slits. I have fingered myself many times looking at some photos in one of your issues. How I would love to bury my face in one of those beautiful cunts or just lie with one of the models and watch her finger-fuck herself!
With this juicy cunt between my legs, I can please myself any time I want, any way I want. I have a large collection of playthings to satisfy my cunt. (I love the word cunt!) With a little imagination I can get my cunt off with all kinds of things besides my fingers, vibrators, and dildos. I've used carrots, candles, cucumbers, bananas, and all sorts of other things commonly used by women. I have, however, one item for solo fucking that is probably unique. I have had a thing for high heels ever since I wore my first pair. They make me feel very sexy. I stay naked most of the time, even now, except for my shoes. I have several pairs that I never wear outside, which I bought for solo sex only.
I usually dig out one of your issues that describes a girl with her hand on her cunt or spreading her cunt lips. I get a pair of shoes from my collection. Then I lie on my bed with the shoes on and the magazine next to me. I start to jerk my clit with one hand and run my fingers along the folds of my cunt. When I start getting nice and juicy, I stop jerking and cross my legs tightly to feel those wonderful vibes. Then I take a tit in each of my hands and raise them both so I can lick and suck my nipples. This really makes my juices flow. I then go back to my cunt. I put two fingers way inside to feel the silky skin and creamy juice. I then lick the cream from my fingers, and at this point I am ready.
I take off one of the shoes and lick the heel all over. At this point, I slide the heel of the shoe against my juicy cunt and clit. I press hard to get the heel wet with my slick juices. I roll the shoe sideways slightly, feeling the smooth patent leather on my clit. My ass is bouncing like crazy by now, as I begin my mini-orgasms, building up to the big one, all of which can last up to half an hour. Then I call out to the girl in the magazine and plead with hen “Fuck me harder, faster!” or “Please let me suck you!” I think that having some lovely doll to suck while I get off with my heel would be the ultimate. Just as I approach my big climax, I take my other shoe, wet it in my mouth, and come like a wild woman.
I should mention that I also have a pair of pointy-toed patent leather shoes. I prefer to rub the toes of these shoes against my erect nipples. I call this “toeing with myself,” and I can even do it while I watch TV!—Name and address withheld by request
GRADUATE PROJECT
A few years ago I had just finished grad school and was living off campus with my girlfriend, who was also a grad student. With my thesis done, I was teaching part-time and waiting for my girlfriend to finish her term. One morning as we climbed out of the shower, she mentioned that she had volunteered me to help one of our friends, Pam, with her graduate project. I knew Pam well and readily agreed, figuring what she needed was some help with word processing or editing.
At the appointed time I showed up at Pam's place—a big, rambling house festooned with ferns, wall hangings, and wicker furniture. Pam met me at the door clad in a long terry-cloth robe and carrying a mug of coffee. It was eight in the morning. She invited me inside and explained she was getting her master's in physical education, and she was doing her thesis on muscle massages. She said that her advisor thought she had a good chance to get it published and that she was going to submit it with photos. That, she explained, was where I came in.
My girlfriend, Janet, had volunteered me to be Pam's subject for the photos that would ultimately accompany the text. I was not quite prepared for this and was taken completely off guard. Pam ushered me to her bathroom, gave me a towel, and urged me to take a hot shower to help me relax. She said that she and the photographer would be in the living room, and that I could just leave my clothes hanging in the bathroom.
I showered and dried off. Feeling sheepish and more than a little apprehensive, I came out into the living room with the towel wrapped around my waist. The photographer, a female grad student whom I had seen around, and her lighting assistant— also a young lady—were waiting with Pam. On the floor a large quilt was spread out. Several candles were lit. Pam handed me a small bottle of lotion and explained that a slathering would better reveal my muscle definition in the photos. I began putting it on my arms while she spread it on my back.
In an instant she undid my towel and was putting the lotion on my buttocks. I found my
self standing naked in front of the other two girls. Pam moved about in front of me and applied the lotion to my chest, abdomen, legs, and even gave my genitals a once-over. I stood there naked as the photographer moved about and, with the assistant's help, took several light-meter readings.
Pam removed her robe and was naked underneath. As she applied some lotion to her arms and breasts she asked me to apply some to her back, explaining that in order to get or give a proper massage one had to be totally naked. Thus we began the photo session with me lying on my belly and Pam kneeling beside me, working on my back and legs with her firm fingers.
The thesis required over one hundred photos. One has to understand, however, that in order to obtain that many quality photos one has to take literally thousands.
For the next week I would show up at Pam's place early in the morning, undress, and spend the day in the nude as she massaged me front and back from toes to head while the photographer clicked away. I began to enjoy the massages a lot, as one could imagine. I even grew accustomed to being naked in front of the other girls. In fact, when we took a break or had lunch neither Pam nor I would get dressed. I got a tantalizing charge out of standing around naked and chatting with the girls.
One day a couple of her friends—a guy and a girl—stopped by at lunchtime. Unabashed, Pam answered the door in the nude and introduced them to me as I stood there, also naked. We talked for a while, and they looked over some photos from the sessions.
On the last day of shooting, Pam explained that she wanted to get the photos done for the erotic massage section. She explained to me that she would understand if I wanted to back out. I told her she had to be kidding. After all I had been through, how could I quit then? Besides, the idea of getting an erotic massage from Pam sounded extremely appealing, to say the least. I didn't feel guilty either because, after all, it had been my girlfriend's idea for me to do this in the first place.
The photographer's assistant joined us for these photos, disrobing and massaging Pam as well as me. The girls massaged each other's breasts and buttocks. As the camera moved in close, they brought each other off with their fingers. Then the two of them went to work on me. I lay there on my back with a raging erection.
Finally, with the camera only a couple of feet away and the assistant watching me, Pam gave me a long, loving handjob with lots of oil while cooing about how she loved the look and feel of my cock. She knew how to bring me to the brink and then back. Finally, she brought me off and my come spurted on her loving fingers. All of this was captured by the camera.
This was undoubtedly one of my most memorable experiences. Now whenever I see her I can't help but remember the incredible experience I had with her and the other girls.
Pam's thesis did get published and is still available in some bookstores—though, frankly, it is bought more for soft porn than as an instructional manual. I am proud to be in those photos. It was a truly erotic experience.—M.O., Milwaukee, Wisconsin
IN LOVE WITH HER PEN PAL
I am forty-two years old and divorced, stand five feet four inches tall, and weigh one hundred twenty pounds. I have maintained my figure because I absolutely crave sex. The reason I am divorced is that I couldn't stand the tedium of having just one lover.
Three years ago I joined a service that enabled men and women to meet through the mail. I've met many men who've proven to be excellent sex partners. Last spring I received a letter from a man doing time in prison. Normally I wouldn't pursue a relationship with a criminal, but this man intrigued me. He was also divorced, and before his arrest for fraud was a successful professional. He described himself as six-feet-two, with a muscular, athletic build. The thought of this hunk in his prison togs made my pussy juices flow.
After several bland, getting-to-know-you letters, I decided to spice up our correspondence with some Polaroid pictures of myself, naked, in various provocative poses. As Todd is in a minimum-security facility, he was allowed to keep the photographs. He wrote back immediately to say how crazy he was about seeing me nude and itching to be fucked. He told me he jerked off three times in one hour immediately after getting the pictures.
In that same letter he provided me with a tracing of his hard cock on a piece of paper. When I unfolded the paper I was both amused and stunned by what I saw. It was the longest, most deliciously curved cock I'd ever seen. I wrote back to Todd and told him that if his cock was really the nine and a half inches it measured on the paper, I would come to visit him at the prison for a closer look. He answered my letter at once and told me the tracing was an accurate portrait of the real thing.
The prison was just a couple of hours from my home. I showed up the following weekend in a pair of skintight jeans and a very loose-fitting sweater. My plan was to raise the sweater above my big melons to give him a good look. I was disappointed that we could not have a “contact visit,” as they're called, since I had visions of holding Todd's gigantic, curved tool in my hands. However, our “window visit” proved to be a completely arousing affair.
After Todd and I spoke for a few minutes I began to tempt his libido by playing with my fleshy tits. I could see from the way he was fidgeting in his seat, and from the huge knot in his jeans, that I was turning him on.
“Do you think we should play a little show-and-tell?” I asked into the phone we used to communicate.
Todd replied with a nod. Standing, he slowly pulled down his zipper. I gasped when his pink banana sprung from his jeans and grew fully erect before my eyes, bobbing on the other side of the glass like a lewd puppet. The drawing he'd sent was indeed accurate. In fact if I hadn't measured it at nine and a half inches, I would've sworn that his cock was closer to ten—or even eleven. I was so turned on that, with just a slight shift of my legs, I brought myself to orgasm right there! With my cunt sopping wet, I lifted my sweater and gave Todd a wide-screen view of my breasts. I pushed them up to the window, rubbing the hard nipples against the cool, clear glass.
I moved away from the glass, still exposed. Todd began to fondle his enormous balls, holding one in each hand as his mammoth hard-on throbbed up and down, oozing a steady stream of clear, thick pre-come. From that point on we both steadily masturbated. I was mesmerized by the size and shape of his huge erection, and even more so by the unusually large nuts that hung low in his hairy bag. I talked to Todd on the phone as we jerked off, describing in detail how I couldn't wait to tongue every inch of his hard cock and feel the head throbbing in my throat.
As I talked and made blowjob sounds, Todd pulled on his hammer and watched intently as I played with my tits and stuck my finger in my creamy hole. I wished he could smell the fuck-me aroma wafting up from between my legs. I wanted to break through the glass divider between us and stuff his log into my cunt. The fact that I was denied this pleasure only served to make me hornier.
I watched closely as Todd continued to beat off. Suddenly his enormous, fat balls began to rise in their sac. His cock started to shake and the head swelled even more. Instinctively I opened my mouth when the first ribbon of pearly white jism jumped from his hard meat and splattered against the glass window that separated us. I moaned into the phone as. I, too, came. In my mind I was swallowing his thick load in big gulps, savoring every drop. My fingers worked wildly at my swollen clit until I'd come a second and third time.
Todd wiped the semen off on the sleeve of his blue prison shirt. Then he held it up to the glass, saying into the phone that he couldn't wait for the day he could stick his cock in me and pump me full of cream. I dream of that day too, which should come in another eighteen months. Until then, we share these show-and-tell visits every weekend. When we're not together— and even if I'm with another man—I long for the moment when Todd's massive, curved rod will find its way into my mouth, my cunt, and between my tits. Anywhere he wants to bury that treasure is all right with me.—T.C., Detroit, Michigan
HEAR IT AND COME
I am a student at an eastern state university and I should start by telling you that
I suffer from a not-so-rare disease known as chronic virginity.
Thanks to my roommate Paul (which is not his real name), I have learned to suppress some of the adverse conditions of this disease. As you know, party life at large universities is plentiful, and our apartment is no exception. At a party one night, I found, as usual, that the female species was not attracted my way; so I retired to my room to go to sleep. Soon after, Paul brought a young lady into the bedroom to do some prolonged penis plunging, but to his surprise, he found me in bed.
Since the rest of the apartment was crowded with people, he and the young lady retired to the bathroom. Not knowing that I was still awake, Paul continued in the usual fashion of lovemaking. Knowing quite well what was going on, I had acquired one of the best hard-ons that I had ever experienced. Soon I heard the bottles in the medicine cabinet start to rattle violently and the toilet seat start to thump. I could not resist the urge anymore; so I slipped a hand down to my groin and started to jerk off. Nearly out of my mind with ecstasy, I could imagine myself inside of that chick's juicy cunt, going in and out, in and out. I had never experienced such an orgasm before and was surprised by the beautiful sensation I had received as I came all over my sheets.
Now my roommate and I set these situations up at every party we have. While he is getting a piece of ass in the bathroom, I lie violently pounding my meat in bed. The result is the best pleasure both of us have ever known.—T.C., Baltimore, Maryland
OLIVE OIL ORGASMS
My boyfriend and I enjoy sex, but lately we've been so busy that we haven't made love in three weeks. I love the fact that he treats me like a best friend, but I thought it was time he saw me as a seductive woman as well. One day while at the liquor store I picked up a copy of Forum. There was an article about orgasmic massage that seemed to be just the thing I was looking for. I went to the bedroom and put on a tank top and some panties.
Letters to Penthouse III Page 14
