Letters to Penthouse XXV

by Penthouse International

  Finally Molly lifted her mouth from Frank’s cock. “I want to come!” she gasped out. “Put a finger in my pussy and one in my ass, and shoot your come down my throat, you stud. God, I love your black cock, and I want your come in my mouth so I can taste it!” Frank did just as she said, and in a minute my wife was screaming more loudly than I’d ever heard her as she exploded in an intense orgasm. As soon as she calmed down she took his cock back in her mouth and sucked it wildly until he erupted. She tried to swallow it all, but he had too much seed for her, and his huge cock kept pumping come into her mouth until it spilled out the sides. The whole scene was too much for me, and I shot my load all over the dashboard of our nearly new car.

  When I looked again, the two voyeurs had evidently come as well, and were stuffing their spent cocks back in their pants. Molly began applying her lipstick again, while she and her lover whispered things I couldn’t hear to each other. Finally Frank kissed her one more time and got out of the car. Molly got back in the front seat and waved good-bye to him as I drove off.

  “My gosh, what a night!” she said, and she leaned over and kissed me, sliding her tongue into my mouth just as she had done with Frank. I tasted a mixture of booze, cigarette smoke, lipstick and come. Frank’s come.

  “Frank wants me to go to a party with him Friday night,” she said then. “And I want to go as his date. Do you have any objections?”

  I started to say yes, but I had to be honest with her, and with myself. “Not if you tell me all about it afterwards,” I said. “And if you fuck my brains out as soon as we get home.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” she said.

  —N.B., San Diego, California

  SHE HATED POKER NIGHT—UNTIL HUBBY’S PALS STARTED PLAYING SOME OTHER GAMES

  My husband and I have been married for eleven years. Our sex life, like our marriage, is okay, but over the years it has gotten kind of routine and a little boring. We have sex about once every other week, and as far as I’m concerned, even less often would be fine. It is a source of friction between us that my sex drive is not as strong as Gus’ is.

  At least until recently I didn’t think it was!

  Although before this incident I had never cheated on my husband during our marriage, I did have a few wild times in college that he’s never known about. He has asked me a number of times about my past, but I always figured there was no need for him to know about my youthful indiscretions.

  For the last six months or so, Gus has become part of a monthly poker game with three friends of his. They meet to play at a different guy’s house each month. The first time he had the game at our house, I spent the entire night upstairs, listening to the guys below yelling and cursing and of course talking about sex. Then I heard some loud female moaning, which I couldn’t account for until I realized that they were watching a porno tape on our big-screen TV.

  This was too much for me, and after the party ended, around two in the morning, I informed Gus that the next time it was his turn to have the guys over, I was going to leave the house.

  He just laughed.

  Well, four months went by, and it was once again Gus’ turn to entertain. I told him again that I wasn’t going to stick around this time, and he said fine. So when the guys showed up, I got ready to leave.

  I knew one of the guys, Keith, from high school, and I had met one of the others, a younger guy named John, who’d joined my husband’s office-supplies company last year. The third guy, Larry, was tall and slender, in his forties, and seemed quieter than the other “boys.”

  They all expressed regret that I was leaving, but I didn’t pay any attention. I went downtown and did some shopping. On the way back I stopped off at a bar not far from our home. The bartender, Roy, and I knew each other slightly.

  After I’d had a couple of drinks, Roy insisted on buying me my next one. As he served it, he struck up a conversation. I found myself telling him why I was “out and about,” and we continued talking as he continued pouring the drinks.

  Roy thought he was a great dispenser of wisdom, but all he really told me was that men want sex more than women do. I said I didn’t think that that was always true, that it depends on the people, and on the situation. He shrugged and poured me another drink.

  I finally left, and decided to walk home, since I wasn’t really in any condition to drive. The three-block walk seemed like three miles. When I reached the house, the guys were still there, in various states of drunkenness, yelling at the porno film on the TV as they continued throwing down their cards. I didn’t know how they could even see the TV through the thick clouds of cigar smoke that were filling the room.

  Gus appeared to be the drunkest of the bunch. I just gave him a dirty look as I went upstairs. I took a quick shower, then put on a pair of panties and a T-shirt and crawled into bed. Soon I was out like a light.

  I don’t know how much time had passed when I woke up and heard someone coming out of our bathroom. The next thing I knew, I felt a hand under the blanket, running up my leg as I lay on my stomach. Naturally I thought it was Gus, and I pushed the hand away. That was just like Gus, I thought, trying something like this with his friends downstairs.

  But the hand returned, this time rubbing my ass cheeks. Well, alcohol always seems to get me in the mood, and with all I’d had to drink, suddenly the hand on my ass felt pretty good. I turned my head and got a big surprise when I saw that the hand producing that magic effect on my ass didn’t belong to Gus at all. It was Keith’s!

  My first impulse was to push him away, but I didn’t. I had always liked Keith, and back in school we had once had a brief fling together. I was feeling quite randy now, more so than I had felt with Gus for years. Keith had both hands on my ass now. Then I felt my panties coming down, and at the same time heard myself letting out a slight moan.

  Keith’s hands moved to the insides of my legs, and I parted them slightly, feeling my juices begin to flow as he worked his way up to my pussy. I felt one finger being inserted in me, then two. I spread my legs wider and raised my ass to help him.

  I felt the bed move as he climbed on it behind me, and I rose up on all fours. I felt pressure at my pussy as his cock went in slowly. I bit on the sheet so the guys downstairs would not hear my moans.

  Keith’s hands grabbed my waist and pulled me back to him as his entire shaft sank in me, deep and hard. At that point I had an orgasm that made my whole body shake. Then he was fucking me quickly, and after a minute I felt his come shooting in me. I lay back down on my stomach, and he left without either of us saying a word.

  Just a few minutes later I was awakened again by hands moving on my body. I turned over on my back, wondering if it was Gus this time, or if Keith had come back for more. But no—it was John, the young man from Gus’ office. Ohmygod!

  “Hey!” I said. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  John was climbing between my legs. “The guys told me I should come up here and, you know . . . ,” he said breathlessly. “Do you want me to leave?”

  Well, I thought, what the hell! I had already cheated on Gus with Keith, and John was young and strong and handsome. “No,” I said, and a moment later I once again had a cock buried deep in my pussy. John put his mouth on mine as he pumped away, breathing heavily, and I kissed him back. He shot his come in me quickly, then got up and left the room.

  After that, I didn’t go back to sleep, and I wasn’t really surprised when Larry showed up. He didn’t say anything. He just dropped his pants and walked over to the side of the bed. He stood there with his cock sticking straight out. I rolled over on my side and took it in my mouth.

  By now I was in a daze of sensuality. I remember wondering if I was dreaming. But I knew I wasn’t!

  I sucked on Larry until he pulled away and said for me to roll on my stomach. I felt my hips being pulled up in the air, then felt my ass cheeks being parted. I felt his hand at my pussy. Then he was lubricating my asshole with my pussy juice.

  I had only had anal sex once, du
ring my “wild” college days. I had never let Gus take me that way. But now I realized I wanted it. There was pressure at first, but Larry took it nice and slow, and soon his cock was working its way in me. I thought I would pass out with the pleasure. I pushed back, and he began to fuck me, and then picked up the pace. I bit my pillow to stifle the sounds of my coming.

  After shooting his come in my ass, Larry got soft very fast, and he quickly pulled out, put on his pants and left. Still in a daze, I made my way to the bathroom to clean up. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I had just fucked all three of Gus’ poker buddies.

  In the shower, as I gradually shook off some of the effects of the alcohol, not to mention the orgy I’d just participated in, a thought occurred to me. I found myself wondering if the whole thing had in fact been Gus’ idea.

  I got dressed and tiptoed slowly downstairs. The guys were all gone, and Gus was passed out on the couch. Now it occurred to me that he might not have any idea what had been going on. I wondered if I should tell him. After all, he had often said he wanted to see me with other guys, and I had always said no. Would he be happy to hear about me and his friends, I wondered, or would he be mad?

  I finally decided no, I wouldn’t say a word. If it would make him happy to hear what I’d done with all of his friends, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction! And if not, well, then what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt either one of us.

  But one thing I knew for damned sure. The next time it’s Gus’ turn to have the poker game at our house, you can bet that I will be staying home!

  —G.S., New Orleans, Louisiana

  PUT A BIKINIED BARBIE-DOLL BEAUTY ON A BOAT WITH A BUFF BODYBUILDER—AND BAM!

  This is an event that began last summer and has continued ever since. It involves my lovely wife Bridget, my coworker and friend Richie, and myself.

  First, let me fill in some background on my wife and myself. I met Bridget when she was attending a small community college, which she barely graduated from. But I didn’t marry her for her brains, I married her for her body, and let me tell you, hers is a killer.

  She’s slim and stacked, with a nice skinny waist and a sweet ass. I love a nice set of boobs on a slim, shapely body. Bridget is the Barbie-doll type, always squeaky clean, with never a hair out of place. She’s in her mid-twenties now (I’m a bit past thirty), and still maintains that great figure.

  I’m not the jealous type, and actually enjoy all the attention and looks Bridget gets. I often wondered how I ended up with such a woman. I am nothing to brag about. Just average, with what I consider a rather small penis—not quite six inches hard. But she has never complained about my lovemaking, though I guess she’s made remarks about my size on occasion—all in fun, of course. In turn, I always go with the joke and tease her about all the attention her boobs bring.

  I have to admit that I have fantasized about Bridget being with other men. One in particular.

  I make my living as an industrial designer. The engineer in my product group is a great guy named Richie, who’s thirty-nine and was divorced awhile back. He has one of these big weightlifter bodies, and while he might have let himself go a little, after he got divorced, he joined a gym and got back in tremendous shape.

  Richie is six feet three, with a hard body, enormous muscled arms and six-pack abs—plus a great personality. The women at work call him “the office hunk.”

  Last summer Richie acquired a good-size boat—a cabin type, about thirty feet, with a small berth and head down below. He and I have worked together for a long time now, and are great friends. He started inviting Bridget and me out on the boat at the beginning of the summer. Most of our other friends have kids, and since Richie was single again, it gave us all a great summer recreation outlet.

  At first Bridget would dress conservatively, but after a couple of times out, she said, “If we’re going to spend the whole summer boating and hanging out on the water, I’m going to get a bikini and work on my tan.”

  She bought a skimpy bright-yellow string bikini that barely contained her body. I loved it, and thought she looked great in it. From the look Richie gave her the first time he saw her in it, I knew he thought so too.

  We spent most weekends drinking on, and swimming off, Richie’s boat. Sometimes other friends would join us, but mostly it was just the three of us. Richie and Bridget seemed to have some sort of magnetism between them. They were very playful, and seemed to enjoy teasing each other.

  On occasion Richie would ask Bridget to put suntan lotion on his back for him. This is when it struck me what a beautiful pair of people they were, even with the age difference: Richie with his six-three, awesomely muscled body, and Bridget with her tiny yellow bikini barely covering her magnificently sculptured body.

  On this one day I found myself going down in the cabin to use the head as Bridget was about to put some lotion on Richie again. The head has a small louvered window you can see the upper deck through if you crack it just right. As I was taking care of business, I heard a muffled “Don’t.”

  I looked out the window to see Richie standing in back of Bridget. He had evidently been rubbing lotion on her back, but now he had a hand on either side of her waist and was repeatedly running his hands up her sides, trying to cup a breast in each hand. Each time he tried, she giggled and said for him to stop. Of course he was way too big for her to get away from him if she’d really wanted to, but it sure didn’t seem to me that she wanted to get away.

  After I watched this scene for what felt like minutes, but was actually only seconds, she stopped giggling and also stopped saying stop. She just stood there while he kneaded her boobs.

  I heard Richie say what a hot body Bridget has, and how beautiful she is. She looked startled. Her usually bubbling smile turned into a serious look, something that doesn’t happen to her often.

  I was startled too, even though I’d often fantasized about another man doing something like this to her. I had no idea how to react to seeing this rattling hunk of a man, almost forty, my good friend, feel up my beautiful young wife right in my view.

  I flushed the head several times, to make sure the noise signaled them that I was on my way back up to the deck. As I climbed up, I heard Richie jumping in the water, and when I got on deck, I saw Bridget adjusting her bikini top. She said she was going down to freshen up. As she passed me, she had a flustered look on her face.

  I grabbed another beer to calm my nerves. But the rest of the day proceeded as if nothing had happened. I went to the head a few times more just to see if I would get a repeat show, but I didn’t. Neither Bridget or Richie acted as if anything had happened.

  However, as Bridget and I were driving home, she said I should know what had happened on board when I wasn’t around. She proceeded to tell me what Richie had done.

  I told her that I had actually seen it from my bathroom lookout but didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure how to broach it, and I didn’t want to ruin the day with a confrontation. I also told her that it was actually very sexy watching Richie feel her up like that, and I had mixed emotions about the whole thing.

  She was startled to hear that I had enjoyed watching the incident. I told her she’s so beautiful that I couldn’t blame Richie for finding her irresistible, especially in that skimpy bikini, and also with Richie’s looks I understood her being attracted to him. Still, I said, if she wanted I would talk to him about it at work on Monday.

  She said no, it was probably a one-time thing, so no need to cause trouble.

  But on Monday I did find myself in Richie’s office, and eventually talk strayed from work-related matters to the past weekend. I mentioned that Bridget had told me about what he did.

  He didn’t even make any excuses, like “It was the beer” or something. The gist of what he said was that if that sexy wife of mine was going to prance around his boat near naked all summer, unless she said otherwise he intended to find out if she would let him play with that red-hot body a little. Did I have a problem w
ith that?

  I said I didn’t.

  When the end of the week rolled around, Richie asked if we were coming out with him. I said I’d ask Bridget and get back to him. When I got home I told her we were invited out again and asked what she thought about it.

  “Fine with me,” she said.

  I said Richie would probably try to fondle her again, and asked if she was prepared for that. She said—I think half in jest—that since I had found it such a turn-on before, she would let him do it again if I wanted.

  I still wasn’t sure if she was kidding or serious. So I decided to call her bluff and said it was all right with me.

  “It’s fine with me,” she said again, and we made our usual arrangements, meeting Richie at the marina on Saturday afternoon.

  We took a pleasant ride and enjoyed the sun. I went to the head a couple of times during the afternoon, but I didn’t see anything from my viewing spot. I thought it was going to be an uneventful day, until it was time to go home and we had pulled into the dock and tied up.

  Just as we were about to leave the boat, I told Bridget to meet me at the car with our towels and stuff, as I had to make one more trip to the head. Of course as soon as I got below, I looked out my little viewing window.

  Lo and behold, Richie was behind Bridget again, with his hands all over her tits! She wasn’t doing anything to stop him, and from what I could see—they were kind of sideways to me—she just had this kind of glazed look on her face.

  Richie turned Bridget toward me, as if he knew I was watching them. I was getting a hard-on watching my pretty wife getting seduced by this super-hunk.

  My suspicion grew that he knew I was watching. With his right hand he pulled his shorts to the side, and out fell a giant slab of half-hard cock. It was circumcised, with a large helmet, and already bigger than my pencil dick at maximum extension. Yes, he was bigger soft than I was hard!

  He directed my wife’s hand to it. She put her hand on it, and her eyes popped open wide. She pulled her hand away, saying, “No, I shouldn’t.” After a while he moved her petite hand back to his big cock, and she let it linger before again pulling away. This kept up awhile. Each time she let her hand rest on his cock longer.