“Anywhere you want I will put my dick,” he said. His voice was intense, his eyes glowing. “Do you understand? We will not be fucking, we will be making love. I will also stick it between your breasts and give you a pearl necklace if you would like that.”
“I would like that,” I said breathlessly, and I smiled at him.
“I will call you,” he said. “We will make arrangements.” Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his zippered wallet. He handed me a couple of bills. “Buy yourself something nice, and get a pair of those same panties in red. I really like the color red.”
I took the bills and nestled them between my breasts. We kissed again. Finally I pushed away from him and went into the small adjoining bathroom to clean up. But he followed me in there, and behind the locked door we kissed again. Then I sat down on the toilet, removed my damp thong, and threw it over to him. It landed on his shoulder. He grabbed for it, balled it up, and stuck it into his mouth. Then he pulled it out slowly, as if he were some magician showing me a trick. He sniffed the crotch, licked it, and placed the thong in his pocket. I leaned back, brought my feet up onto the toilet seat, and spread my thighs wide. I couldn’t wait any longer. I was ready for him then.
But he only gave me a devilish grin, saying, “I will call you soon.” And he went out.
I locked the door behind him. My knees were like jelly, and I didn’t trust myself to be able to leave with dignity just yet. Too bad it was a smoke-free facility; I really wanted a cigarette.
Four days later I received a phone call in the afternoon.
“Are you available tonight?” Hector asked.
Of course I was. “Tonight’s not good,” I forced myself to say. He wasn’t the only one who could tease. “How about tomorrow?”
“Yes, then, tomorrow. Have you thought about me in these past few days?” he asked. “I’ve only thought of you.”
“Every waking moment,” I admitted. “And I’ve bought three pairs of nice red panties. One is crotchless, one is a G-string and the third is sheer and lacy. Which would you prefer I wear?”
“The lace ones,” Hector replied. “So that I can lick you through them. How does seven o’clock sound?”
“Seven is good,” I said. “I’ll be waiting with bells on. Or leather, if you prefer.”
“Tell me how much you have missed me,” he said.
“All right,” I purred into the phone. “Listen. This is how much I miss you.” Then I lowered the receiver, placed it between my thighs and began to finger myself into a frenzy. I was home alone and didn’t have to be quiet. I moaned and purred loudly as I stroked myself. I could hear the sloshing sound of my cunt juices, and I knew he could too. I kept it up, moving faster, moaning louder, until I came for him.
“Are you there?” I asked breathlessly after a few moments.
“Yes, I am here,” Hector said hoarsely. “And tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”
“For me too,” I said, and hung up the phone.
—S.L., Laredo, Texas
HIS GIRLFRIEND’S MOTHER FOOLED AROUND, SO
WHY NOT DO IT WITH HIM?
I am a twenty-eight-year-old male with a gorgeous twenty-year-old girlfriend named Debbie. Debbie has a mother who, at thirty-nine, is almost as good-looking and sexy as she is, and in some ways even more so. Her name is Julie, and she can still turn any guy’s head. She had Debbie while very young, and has kept her body in good shape. I have to say that I occasionally had thoughts about what it would be like to have that body, but of course I never did anything about it because of Debbie—not to mention Debbie’s father, Jake.
Then about six months ago I went over to Julie and Jake’s house to borrow some of Jake’s tools. Jake wasn’t home, so I went out to the garage and helped myself, knowing that he wouldn’t mind. As I was coming around the side of the garage, I saw Debbie’s mother through the living-room window of the house. She wasn’t alone. A man I’d never seen before was embracing her and kissing her deeply. As I watched through the window, he undressed her and they had sex right on the couch.
I got extremely excited watching this. When they finished, Julie’s lover stood up, pulled off his condom, then got dressed and left. I was amazed that my girlfriend’s mother, who, sexy though she was, had always seemed to be a loving wife, could be so wild as to have an affair like that right in her own house.
I left the place without being noticed, and didn’t say anything to anyone about what I had seen. Then about two weeks later I saw them again, at a restaurant in the next town, while I was at work on a job site. I was stringing some electrical wire, and Julie didn’t notice me until I had seen her and her lover kissing and groping for several minutes. Then she kind of froze and stared at me as I stared back. Neither of us said a word, and they left shortly afterward.
The following week I got a call from Julie saying that Jake wanted me to come over and do some wiring for them. But when I got there Julie was alone. She was wearing a short, tight skirt and a shirt that was open down the middle and tied at the bottom, showing the inner slopes of her breasts. She smiled at me, gave me a drink, and asked me to sit down. It was a good thing too, because my dick was quickly getting hard as I looked at her.
“Let’s get to the point, Dave,” she said. “I know you saw me at lunch with Harold the other day.”
“I didn’t know his name,” I said. “But hey, what you do is your business, you know?”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Julie said. “Because I certainly wouldn’t want Jake to find out. Or Debbie either, for that matter.”
“Well, don’t worry,” I told her. “They won’t find out from me.”
“That’s nice to know,” she said. “But I thought I might just make sure of that.”
“What do you mean?” I said, though I was beginning to suspect.
“Well, Dave, I know you like to look at me. I’ve seen you,” Julie said. “And I have an idea you’d like to do more than that. Am I wrong?”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “But look, you don’t have to—”
“That’s right, I don’t have to do anything,” Julie said. “But the fact is that if you and I were to . . . get together, then you surely wouldn’t be tempted to say anything about me and Harold, because if you did . . .”
“I get it, I get it,” I said. “But I’m telling you, I’m not going to say anything anyway. For God’s sake, I wouldn’t take advantage of you that way, Julie. What do you think I am?”
“Well, I think you’re a good-looking young guy, Dave, and maybe what you know about me isn’t the only reason I got you here. Maybe I’m a little jealous of my daughter, ever think of that?”
“Jesus,” I said.
Julie got up then and stood in front of me as I sat on the couch. “But this can only be a one-time thing, Dave, you understand? I don’t want to risk my marriage—not to mention my relationship with Harold—and you don’t want to risk yours, am I right?”
“Yes,” I said. “But Julie, are you sure you want to—” I didn’t get any further than that, because my mouth dried up as she started to untie her blouse. I already knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, but when the blouse came open and I saw her shapely, still firm breasts, I felt weak. After a moment she opened her skirt and let it fall to the floor, and then slid her panties down her shapely legs. God, she was so hot!
She stood there and let me look at her naked body for a few minutes. As much as I wanted her, I was too paralyzed to make a move. Julie smiled at me and told me to stand up, and when I managed to do that she began to undress me. She unbuttoned my shirt and undid my pants, which fell to the floor along with my shorts. My hard cock sprang out.
“Nice,” Julie said, and then she knelt down between my legs and took my cock in her hand. She started to stroke it, and I moaned. I put my hands in her dark hair as she moved her head forward and kissed the hard flesh, then began to lick it. Finally she opened her mouth and took it in. I moaned again, more loudly, as she began to suck it, s
lowly at first, and then faster, taking it deep. I didn’t want to, but I had to pull away from her before I came in her mouth. If I was only going to have one opportunity to fuck her, I wanted to do it right.
Julie stood up. “Let’s go into the bedroom,” she said.
I felt funny about doing it with her in the bed she shared with her husband. “What’s wrong with right here on the couch?” I said, remembering that that was where I had seen her doing it with Harold.
“No, I want it on the bed,” she persisted. “My marriage bed. It’ll be better that way.”
I wasn’t about to argue with her. We went into the bedroom and she lay down on the bed, on her back, spreading her lovely legs wide. I had never felt so turned on in my life. But there was one other thing that was bothering me. “I don’t have a rubber or anything,” I said breathlessly.
“You don’t need one,” she said. “Come on, Dave. Hurry up and fuck me.”
I got on the bed and positioned myself between her legs. I rubbed my cock against her pussy a few times, then slid slowly into her. God, she felt so damn good! She was tight and warm and wet, and her pussy felt like silk around my dick. I knew I wouldn’t be able to last too long. I began stroking in and out of her, slowly, and I heard her moaning softly. Her mouth was open and she was panting a little.
I picked up the pace as I felt myself getting closer. Then I grabbed her legs and pushed them up to her chest, leaning into her with her feet over my shoulders, and I drilled into her as hard as I could. The bed was creaking and shaking, and Julie was soon crying out with pleasure and yelling at me to give it to her.
I kept pounding away like crazy, and just as I was about to come Julie gasped several times, then stiffened under me, arching her body, climaxing just before I did. I leaned down to kiss her as I shot my come into her spasming pussy.
After we recovered, I pulled out of her and got up. Julie just lay there on the bed, smiling, with come leaking out of her pussy as I got dressed.
“Now I know you’ll be a good boy and not say anything about what you saw,” she said.
“Damn it, I told you I wouldn’t anyway,” I said, but to this day I don’t know if she believed me or not.
A couple of months later, we all got a big surprise at dinner one night when my girlfriend’s thirty-nine-year-old mother announced that she was pregnant. I almost died. I remembered that Harold had used a condom with her the time I saw them, though I assumed that Jake didn’t, since he didn’t seem to be particularly upset. But when I glanced over at Julie she gave me a big wink. I haven’t had the nerve to actually ask her if it’s mine, but I’m pretty damn sure. I just hope Debbie never finds out.
—D.R., San Diego, California
HER SON’S FRIEND WAS AN ORPHAN, SO WHAT
COULD SHE DO BUT COMFORT HIM
I am a forty-three-year-old, happily married housewife with a nineteen-year-old son named Paul. Paul has a good friend named Tim, who is a year younger than he, and whose mother unfortunately passed away about nine months ago after a long illness.
Tim is a senior at the high school from which Paul graduated last year. Every year the school has a mother/son dance, and when it came around this year Tim asked me if I would take his late mother’s place and be his date for the evening. I checked with Richard, my husband, who just laughed and said fine. So I called Tim back and told him that I would be honored.
I felt a little strange as I got dressed that evening. Tim had occasionally tried to flirt with me, and I had often caught him staring at my chest or my legs. I stay in good shape by swimming and walking, and am told that I look younger than my years. I dressed conservatively, in a knee-length high-cut black dress. Tim arrived in a dark suit, and looked absolutely adorable.
We went off to the dance, and Tim was the perfect gentleman throughout the evening. At around ten o’clock, Tim said he was feeling tired and wanted to leave. We said good-bye to the other mother/son combos and headed for the door.
About halfway home, Tim asked if we could stop and talk for a few minutes, and I said sure. He pulled into a secluded area near our local golf course and parked the car. I was a little wary at first, but soon relaxed when he started making small talk about his classes, his girlfriends, his potential college choices, and so on.
Then, before I knew what was happening, he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I started to protest, although I must admit not very strongly, and when he kept kissing me I started kissing him back. Soon our tongues were entwined. I felt his hand touch my right breast through my dress. I quickly pushed it away—again, not very firmly—and we kept kissing. When his hand returned to my breast I didn’t stop him. I was turned on, and I couldn’t help wanting him.
He reached around to unzip the top of my dress and undo my bra, then slid the dress off my shoulders. The bra soon followed, and he stared at my breasts. I have fairly large breasts, which are still very firm and impressive. He then bent down and started sucking my nipples and squeezing my boobs. I heard myself moaning aloud as I held his head against my chest.
Tim then raised his head to kiss me again, and I reached down and started rubbing his cock through his dress pants. He felt huge, a lot bigger than my husband, or anyone else I had ever been with. I undid his pants and moved my hand inside to touch his skin. Now it was his turn to moan. With my other hand I started unbuttoning his shirt, trying to undress him as quickly as I could. He helped me with his clothes, and I took his dick into my mouth and started sucking. He was moaning and squirming as I ran my tongue up and down his cock. I then took him all the way into my mouth as he started to come and sucked his warm sperm into my throat. He moaned again as I licked the rest of his jism from his cock.
He then sat me back up and started sucking my breasts again. One of his hands moved up under my dress. He seemed surprised to find skin. I hate pantyhose and always wear a garter belt and stockings. He pushed my panties aside and started rubbing my clit. I gasped loudly, and told him to fuck me now. I pulled the skirt of my dress all the way up, and Tim went down on my pussy and started sucking at my clit. He was not very experienced, and I pulled him up so he could fuck my very hot pussy. He entered slowly and worked up to a quick rhythm. I put a finger in my mouth to get it wet, then reached around and inserted it into his anus. This drove him crazy, and he quickly came. I had an orgasm of my own as I felt his cock jerking and pumping, spurting his come inside me.
He pulled out then and started telling me how much he had always lusted after my body, how he always watched me at the pool and how one time he had seen me topless coming out of the shower.
His eager admiration made me horny again, and I wanted more. I took his cock back in my mouth and sucked him hard. I then laid him down on the seat and crawled on top of him, inserting his cock into my pussy. I leaned back and started squeezing my own breasts as I moved up and down on him. Soon he was moving too, fucking me back as best he could. I leaned closer to him and started feeding my breasts into his mouth. As he sucked at them I picked up the pace, and soon had a fantastic orgasm as Tim shot another load into my pussy.
When I got home my husband had already retired for the night. I showered thoroughly and climbed into bed. Richard rolled on top of me and placed his hard cock into my pussy. I gave him a great fuck, pretending he was Tim. Later, when he asked me how Tim had behaved, I told him he had been a perfect gentleman.
Tim and I get together once a week now, and I’ve trained him in the fine art of eating pussy, and even let him fuck my ass. I’m going to miss him when he leaves for college.
—S.J., Niagara Falls, New York
HE WAS STUDYING TO BE A DESIGNER,
AND SHE HAD A FEW DESIGNS ON HIM
I am a respected businessman who owns and runs a fairly popular clothing boutique in our community. Although my forty-fifth birthday is coming up, I belong to a local gym and exercise as often as I can to try to keep in shape. Nonetheless, until very recently my sex life had been rather mundane.
About
a month or so ago, while doing my grocery shopping for the week, I realized with surprise that the girl at the register was making an unusual amount of small talk with me. It was late and there were few other patrons in the store, so I put away my doubts and actually began flirting with the young girl, whose name was Sara. I don’t remember too much about our conversation, except that she told me she was eighteen and in her first year at the university. I really didn’t listen that much; I just loved watching her lips move. I tried to keep any obscene thoughts under control, but I knew full well that later on that night I would be putting the olive oil I had bought to a use I hadn’t originally intended it for.
Sara was a very pretty, petite brunette, and from the very first she had me wishing that I was many years younger. By the time she had finally bagged my items, I did something I probably shouldn’t have done—I asked her when her shift was over, and if she would like to talk further over a cup of coffee when it was. Happily, she readily agreed.
When I returned to the grocery store to pick Sara up, I saw her talking to a young guy at the register. He was obviously her boyfriend, and he didn’t look at all happy. Eventually he left, Sara placating him with a sweet little kiss on the cheek.
Over coffee at a local diner, I found out that she was an aspiring fashion designer and was majoring in design at school. This gave me a sudden crazy idea, and almost without thinking about it I inquired if perhaps she would like to abandon her checkout career and come work part-time for me at my boutique. I figured that her presence would brighten up the place, and also would appeal to a younger customer base. Or so I told myself.
Sara jumped at the offer, and in a little over a week became my best employee by far. She was always full of energy, and often would stay late, finishing up something or other, until it got to the point where I would have to insist she leave. All this time I tried to keep down any lustful feelings I had for her, trying to look at her as a substitute daughter, making sure she kept up with her schoolwork and so on. Being in the business, I tried to encourage her and give her any advice I thought might be helpful. She was always grateful, and would show me her designs and sketches, which were all very imaginative and interesting.
Letters to Penthouse XXVII Page 11
