Letters to Penthouse XXXXV

by Penthouse International

  When his mouth found the back of my neck, I moaned. And when Al reached fully beneath my ivory frock and tore the crotch of my fishnets, I trembled. “Push back for me,” he growled.

  I pushed my ass toward him, letting him drag his dick along the sopping wet slit of my pussy. I found my clit with one shaking hand, keeping myself braced to the wall with the other. My eyes never left my hose, my shoes. My knees were shaking, and my breath was ragged.

  He was in me in one hard thrust, my body lifting up and only my toes staying perched on the ground. I rocked back to take him, rubbing myself with a rough hand. I needed it fast and dirty, and Al knew that. He held my hips so hard that my skin throbbed, and he rammed into me. My hair and dress snagged on the brick wall, and I had to push my mouth to my forearm to stifle my sounds.

  “Come for me, come for me,” he kept saying, grunting and grating out the words like an animal. I pushed my feet a bit further apart, feeling my calves scream from the height of the heels and our movement.

  Al hissed once, and I felt him pull free of me. I turned around and pressed my back to the wall as he came all over my pretty new shoes. My fingers shook and flew over my clitoris as I gave in to the moment and came with him, my cunt clenching up in sweet, greedy spasms.

  It didn’t take us long to put ourselves back together. Al even shined my shoe with his handkerchief before we went to eat. I couldn’t help but sneak peeks to admire my footwear under the table during our dinner. I also couldn’t help but wonder what kind of shoes he’d bring me next.

  —Ms. Marcy L., Nashville, Tennessee

  Spontaneous Spanking for a Naughty Wife Leads to a Dirty Good Time

  I was only joking when I whacked him with it. It happened right after Richard said, “What is that?” I’d pulled the small paddleball from the goodie bag my friend Melissa had given me on our way out the door.

  “An extra goodie bag from the party. For the kid who didn’t show up.” Then I whacked him with the paddle. “Don’t know why she gave it to me, but I’m not complaining.”

  “Let me see.” He held out his big hand and all the hair rose up on my neck. Thinking about putting that paddle in his hand felt important—and exciting.

  “Why?” I put it behind my back, leaning in so we were face-to-face. I was so close that I could see the stubble poking through his skin and the full lushness of his mouth.

  “Because I said so” was his answer. Another oddity. He wasn’t usually clipped and brisk with me. But it made my body come alive and my brain snap to attention. My pussy grew wet, and a steady thump pulsed between my legs.

  “Please?” I teased. But then I held my breath.

  “I don’t say ‘please,’ ” Richard said, staring me down with his chocolate-brown eyes. “You say ‘please.’ ”

  He held his hand out again, palm up, and waited.

  I placed the paddle in his hand without another word.

  “I don’t know why I never thought to get one of these for us,” he said conversationally, snapping off the thin piece of elastic that held the red rubber ball. The ball dropped to the floor and bounced away merrily, trailing its cheap elastic tail behind it. “Pull your pants down, doll,” he said.

  I studied his face, waiting to see a flicker of good humor or any indication that he was joking. None came.

  “What? Why?” I stammered. I was mortified that he intended to use that cheap wooden paddle on me. But under it all, I was also aroused like I hadn’t been in ages—so much so that I felt a warm slide of fluid rush from my cunt. I shifted, trying to hide my surprise, but that only made my sudden need worse—and he chuckled as if he could read my mind. I was almost certain he could.

  “Because I said so. You get four for disobeying me when I asked for it, and now you get four more for questioning me. Want to go for an even dozen?”

  As I watched, he reached out and pinched my right nipple between his big fingertips. It stood out hard and ready, even through my thin red tee and my soft-cup bra. A moan nearly escaped me, and I swallowed it down.

  He grinned. “Now.”

  I opened my mouth to balk and then shut it with a snap as he smirked. He meant it, and I certainly did not want to feel the bite of that wood against my ass twelve times.

  I wondered briefly why I was playing along with his madness, but deep down I knew. I wanted it just as much as he did. And after he was done, I wanted him to fuck me.

  I turned fast, pushing down my black slacks and my pink panties so that they pooled around my ankles. I could just see the tips of my orange flip-flops and my pink nail polish. Somehow it gave me something to focus on. I pushed my forearms to the center island in our kitchen and blew out a breath when I realized I was holding it.

  “Ready?”

  I opened my mouth to answer and the first blow landed—a sharp stinging slap. Pain zigged and zagged under my skin, quickly turning to pleasure. Before I could totally register the sensation, the paddle came down with a smart report on the opposite cheek. A cry escaped me, and I heard Richard chuckle again.

  He crisscrossed the first blow with the third and the second mark with a fourth. My ass felt branded and afire. Blood rushed in my ears and deafened me to any other sound, until he paused to say against my neck, “That was four, sweetheart. You did well. Let’s see what it did to you.”

  His thick finger pushed against my wet slit and slid inside me effortlessly.

  I gasped, curling my fingers to the dark marble countertop. Richard added a second finger, rubbing my G-spot eagerly. Then he added a third and thrust up hard to fill me. Just as sweet release was rushing toward me, he pulled his fingers free.

  “I’d say that did good things to you. Do you agree?”

  He waited, actually expecting me to answer. I nodded dumbly, bobbing my head until he said, “Out loud.”

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  “Good girl.”

  I smiled, and that’s when the fifth blow fell, coming down on already tender skin, making it pop with pain before flooding with pleasure. My cunt flexed around nothing at all as the sixth blow fell and I cried out, loud enough to startle myself. We’d never done this before—I don’t know how—so it was a surprise to notice that once the bite of discomfort left, pleasure bloomed in its wake. And I liked it.

  “Count off the last two for me.” He growled his words, pressing his body to mine. I felt the hard length of his cock press to the split of my ass. My skin thumped and bumped with heat, and my heart followed suit.

  “Seven,” I moaned as the paddle struck me again, blazing fire along my skin.

  He grunted and my nipples spiked with arousal. He was losing his control, and it made me insane with lust.

  “Eight,” I uttered softly as the final blow landed.

  Then it was just a whisper of zipper and jeans and movement as he crushed himself against me, sliding his cock between my legs without entering me. He dragged his length along my wetness until we both couldn’t stand it, and then he kicked my legs apart a bit wider and entered me. It was an effortless entry. One rough thrust and he was in, seated deep and moving with intent.

  I pushed back to meet him, my body already so close to coming that I was on the verge of tears. At that point, I didn’t just want to get off. I needed to get off.

  “You were a good girl,” he informed me, and the praise only made my cunt clench tighter. I hung my head and pushed back to take him as deeply as I could.

  When his fingers found my clitoris and he worked me with deliberately rough strokes, I was done for. “I’m going to come,” I whispered—a soft, shy whisper that was barely audible. But he did hear me, because his free hand tickled up my spine to burrow in my hair. He clenched the length of my ponytail to hold me tight as he rammed into me just a bit harder, a bit faster.

  Then he pinched my clit, released it, and rubbed a few more times. I shouted to the ceiling because he still held my hair in his fist. My body rocked with the force of my release, and my pussy milked him as he continued to dr
ive into me. Richard went still and grunted and then he let my hair go, pushing his teeth to the back of my shoulder as he came.

  Silence filled the kitchen. There was no sound but our panting breath. I started to laugh and he followed suit, his warm hands cupping one of my breasts through my tee. He was still buried balls-deep inside me, and he moved just a bit. Tiny blips of pleasure sounded deep in my body.

  “So… what else is in that bag?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But we’re definitely keeping that paddle.”

  —Ms. Rebecca H., Via Email

  Wife Gets a Lesson from Her Best Friend on How to Spank a Husband

  When my best friend, Lindsey, confessed to me that she liked to dominate her husband, my first thought was: I want to do that! It’s not that my husband is in dire need of discipline—Walter’s a good guy—I merely thought it would be fun to take charge in that way. Walter and I had been married for eight years—one more year than Lindsey and Jerry—and while we had a few toys and occasionally watched naughty movies, we’d never tried any sort of BDSM. Somehow, though, I had a feeling he’d like it.

  I told Lindsey that her story intrigued me and that I wanted to spank my husband, too. But I was also concerned because I didn’t know what I was doing. Lindsey’s face lit up, and she told me that she’d be happy to show me how it’s done. She invited us over so I could watch her top her hubby and assured me that we could simply watch if we wanted.

  I didn’t want to bring Walter over to their place under false pretenses, so I brought up the subject one night shortly afterward. “Honey, what would you think about me spanking you?” I asked as we cuddled in bed.

  “Spanking me? Like taking me over your knee?” He paused and looked at me. His eyes were lit with excitement, confirming my suspicion that he’d find the idea intriguing.

  “Yes, Lindsey told me she spanks her husband, and it sounds like they really enjoy it. He always comes super-hard after she spanks him. And she’s invited us over so we can learn more about it.”

  “Well, maybe,” he said. His voice still sounded skeptical, but when I reached for his cock, I found it was rock-solid! Now I had no doubt: The idea of getting spanked interested my man, even if he was too macho to admit it. I ran my thumb along the tip of his dick, not speaking for a long moment and letting each of us ponder the kinky possibilities.

  “We can always just watch them. Or maybe I’ll take a turn spanking Jerry. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” His dick definitely twitched when I said that! We’d promised that we would be faithful to each other when we got married, and in truth, I’d never wanted to fuck anyone else. I love Walter and am extremely attracted to him. But this was a different sort of situation, and I will admit that the idea of reddening Jerry’s ass excited me.

  I continued jerking off my husband until I was too aroused to wait any longer. Thinking about spanking Walter—and maybe even Jerry—had gotten my pussy incredibly wet. I jumped him and rode his cock to an explosive orgasm. While I didn’t say any more that night about my dirty fantasy, I didn’t think I needed to because I knew I’d sold Walter on the idea.

  I arranged with Lindsey for us to go to her place for drinks the following Saturday, which gave us all time to prepare. She told me that Jerry was very excited about the prospect of having an audience—and even more excited by the possibility of having two women spank him! “And I like the idea of getting to play a teacher,” she told me. “I think I’ll even dress the part.”

  True to her word, Lindsey did dress up in sexy schoolteacher attire. She wore her long brown hair pulled back in a neat bun, changed from her usual cat’s-eye glasses to more serious-looking wire rims, and topped off her look with a white blouse and a navy pencil skirt. I decided not to dress up. I wasn’t really interested in role-playing so much as experiencing the thrill of striking a man’s bare bottom.

  We all sat in the living room, and Lindsey offered us drinks. We chatted for a while, getting more comfortable, until Lindsey was ready for the festivities to progress. “Now… we could do the demonstration in here, or we could move to the bedroom. Where would you feel more comfortable?”

  “Where do you usually spank Jerry?” I asked. The minute the words were out of my mouth, I felt the sexual tension in the air increase. We all knew that’s why we were there, but saying it made it more real. Lindsey and Jerry shared a look, and then she turned back to me. “Well, I spank him wherever I want, but the most intense spankings happen in the bedroom. We can ease into how to deliver those kinds, of course.”

  “Let’s go in the bedroom, then,” I said, reaching for Walter’s hand. He squeezed mine, and I squeezed back. I had a feeling he was a little uncertain, but that his curiosity and horniness would win out. We walked up the stairs and soon were in their bedroom. “Why don’t you strip for us, honey?” Lindsey asked, her voice as sweet as pie.

  Immediately obeying, Jerry stripped. I barely got a glimpse of his erect cock before he was facedown on the bed. “Now, Walter, you sit there,” Lindsey said, pointing to chair near the bed. “And I will show your wife exactly how this works.” I knew Walter wasn’t going to argue with Lindsey, and I felt a thrill as she took my hand and led me over to Jerry’s side. “Now, with men, you often have more surface area to work with, which is a good thing. You want to aim for his butt cheeks, but you can go a little lower to the upper thigh area, if you’re feeling meaner. Just raise your hand and give him a slap. Start with light taps, and then build up to more powerful blows. Like this,” she said, slapping each side of Jerry’s ass lightly, before delivering a sharp-sounding smack that had to have stung her palm.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said, stepping back. It was strange to be staring at my neighbor’s bared bottom, but it was thrilling, too. I got comfortable on the bed, but then just looked at Jerry’s ass for a few seconds, fully aware of Lindsey and Walter watching me.

  “You can touch him a little, too. It’s not just about the spanking. It’s about the buildup, the anticipation, the teasing,” Lindsey instructed, encouraging me.

  I ran my hand up the back of one of Jerry’s thighs, then down the other. He squirmed delightedly at my touch. Then, while resting one hand gently on the small of his back, I used the other to deliver the first blow. I raised my hand and brought it down on Jerry’s right ass cheek. Then I quickly followed it up with a blow to the left. He moaned, which made me smile. I did it again, a bit harder this time, finding my breathing coming faster. I chanced a quick peek at my husband, who was watching me intently. He didn’t seem jealous, only intrigued.

  I gave Jerry a few more whacks, noting the pink color that had started to tinge his cheeks, before I stopped because my hand was starting to sting.

  “That was great—you’re a natural,” Lindsey said happily. “Don’t you think, Walter?” she asked with a wink. He was blushing, but he managed a small smile. I moved closer to him, and he pulled me onto his lap so I could feel his hard-on.

  “I bet you just discovered that you can get worn out from delivering hand spankings well before the person being spanked gets his fill. Well, there’s a solution to that: toys!” Lindsey pulled out a box from under the bed, unearthing several paddles. “There are all kinds of paddles and other implements that deliver a sting and won’t hurt your hand. You can also use household items like a hairbrush, a ruler, or a wooden spoon. I’ll show you.”

  Lindsey proceeded to use four different toys on Jerry’s ass, each one producing different sounds and sensations. She had Jerry tell us what each one felt like, and which he liked better than others. When she was done showing us the implements, Lindsey offered me a chance to try Jerry’s favorite—a black leather paddle. It felt good in my hand, not too heavy, but sturdy and solid. I gave him a few whacks with it, and he moaned appreciatively.

  “Now, Walter, are you ready for your turn?” she asked him.

  “I think I’d rather try it out at home,” my husband said, appearing shy. I nodded my head approvingly and promised hi
m that we would.

  After that, we didn’t stay much longer. We went home, and I bent Walter over, pulling down his boxers and delivering several strong blows all in a row. “You like that, don’t you? You want me to get a paddle and really spank you?” The words flowed from my mouth easily. Soon Walter’s bottom was fairly red and warm, and my pussy was totally wet. “If you fuck me good and hard right now, maybe I’ll buy a paddle tomorrow.”

  And then I gave up being “in charge” and lay down on my back so Walter could climb on top of me and give me a good, strong pounding with his cock. He has a big one, and I love being beneath him, feeling his weight on me while his dick invades my tight cunt. He drilled into me exactly how I like it, and soon he was coming inside me, which prompted my own orgasm.

  “Well, I guess we owe Lindsey a thank-you,” I said afterward. “Maybe we should invite her and Jerry over for a demonstration, once I get used to spanking you. Would that be all right?”

  “That would be more than all right,” Walter said softly, placing my hand on his warm ass as we settled in to sleep for the night.

  —Ms. Meredith S., Kansas City, Missouri

  A Breakfast Blunder Forces This Domme to Take Her Sub to Task

  Michael knows that if I allow him to spend the night, he’s responsible for making breakfast the next day. And I expect a gourmet spread. Usually, he’s good about fulfilling his duties, and he typically makes scones with clotted cream and jam, a frittata with fresh vegetables, or French toast made from flaky croissants. He’s never failed to deliver a delicious meal—until last weekend.

  When I woke Saturday morning, Michael was already up, and his pallet next to my bed was empty. I could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen, and the aroma alone had me wide awake in a matter of moments. I pulled my silk robe on over my negligee, stepped into my heeled slippers, and after stopping to fix my hair in the mirror, walked down the hall to the kitchen to see what my slave was cooking.