Bonnie turned around and gazed at my pole with wide-eyed appreciation. I then led her back into the room, where we both faced the full-length mirror, with me standing behind her, cupping her ample tits in my hands. It was my turn for a view, and she didn’t try to stop me as I stripped her top off. I then put my hand down the front of her bikini bottom, to find a tight slit that was moist with anticipation. Pulling her bottoms down, I slowly inserted my index finger. She seemed ultrasensitive to my touch, and I wondered if any cock had been between those sweet pussy lips before. When I asked her, she confessed that the closest she had come was after a college dance, when her date had tried to fuck her. But she had wanted her first fuck to be with someone more experienced—and better hung. She said she had sucked his cock, but that was all. Then I asked her if she’d like to try sucking mine.
For answer she got down on her knees and took my cock in her mouth. For a girl with so little experience, I was surprised at how good she was. Before I knew it, my cock was quaking in her mouth, unloading my jism down her throat while she eagerly swallowed it.
I then put her on the bed and turned my attention to her virgin pussy. An old trick of mine is to rinse my mouth with ice water before sucking cunt, as the sensation of a cold tongue between two hot pussy lips always gets a woman begging for cock. And Bonnie was no exception. She moaned and gasped and panted as I proceeded to eat her out as skillfully as I knew how, paying particular attention to her stiff little clit, until she was pulling at my cock, telling me in a breathless voice that she was really, really ready to be fucked.
I spread her legs wide and teased her by inserting just my cockhead inside her, until her hips were thrusting up off the mattress. I then pushed farther into the tightest cunt imaginable. After about half of my thickness was in, I arched my back to fill her up, and she gave a little cry as her hymen was torn away, but she didn’t stop moving with me. I pumped away with steady strokes until I began to feel my load building up.
At that point, partly to prolong our session, I turned her around to take her from behind. She gasped with pleasure at this new position, and as much as I wanted to keep fucking her, I also couldn’t wait to pump her young pussy full of my man milk. I pushed in deeply and fucked her hard, our bodies slapping together. I leaned forward to take her tits in my hands and, barely slowing my pistoning thrusts, I whispered in her ear, telling her that I was going to give her a gift—a pussy full of my sperm.
After another few minutes I again felt my load building up to the point of bursting. I slid my hands down to grasp the front of her thighs, pulling her harder against me, pushing my cock as deep as I could into her sex. At this point her pussy muscles were actively coaxing my dick to deliver its seed. With a loud grunt I exploded, pumping what seemed like a gallon of come into her as deeply as I could. The last time I had fucked this hard, my son had been born nine months later.
After spewing my jism, I pulled out and offered my dick to her mouth, and Bonnie gladly took it in, cleaning our juices from it with her sweet lips and tongue.
Now fully satisfied, I stood back to look at her. The girl who only a few minutes before had been a sweet but frustrated young virgin was now a fuckable and happily satisfied woman. Her pussy lips were still swollen and gaping open slightly. The valley between her tits was soaked with sweat, the sheets at her crotch were wet with her juices, and a tiny drop of come hung on her smiling lips. And best of all, her eyes shone with gratitude and pleasure.
I would enjoy several more sessions with Bonnie before we went our separate ways.
—Name and address withheld
A Georgia Peach
After a long separation and lots of struggle over whether to throw in the towel or try piecing things together, my wife and I had signed the divorce papers that morning. I had dated quite a bit during our separation, but the decision to finally make things official was as liberating as it was bittersweet. I had no idea at the time, however, just how cool life after a marriage gone bad could be, but I found out only about twelve hours later.
I went out with some buds that night for a few beers at a downtown hot spot, the kind of place with dance-friendly live music that draws the black-cocktail-dress crowd in the evenings. Things were slower than usual at first, especially for a Friday, but around ten o’clock I spotted her. Blonde and slender, about five-feet-five, with sparkling blue eyes and a radiant killer smile—a drop-dead-gorgeous perfect ten.
I’ve always had a knack for closing a deal once I have gotten to know someone a little bit, but I have never had a good opening move in a bar. Great base stealer, so-so on-base percentage. And this one would be a very tall order. I pointed her out to one of my cohorts, who muttered something like, “Good luck,” in a tone that clearly meant, In your dreams, pal. It didn’t help that she seemed rather engrossed in conversation with some dude sitting next to her at the bar. After gaping about as long as I could without getting busted, I reluctantly turned my attention back to my buddies.
About twenty minutes later, the drinks were getting low, and it was my turn to buy. I sauntered over to the bar, and as I waited for a bartender I glanced over toward my bombshell. To my surprise, the guy was gone, and she was talking to some girl on her other side. I moved up to where the guy had been and attempted to act casual as I tried to listen in on her conversation.
I can’t even remember how we made eye contact, or who spoke first—which is pretty amazing, given my anxiety over making an opening move—but we were well into our own conversation by the time my drinks arrived. I was in no hurry to get back, but one of my buddies was alert enough to come over and grab the drinks, so I didn’t have to leave what suddenly had become a very desirable bit of real estate.
Our talk flowed easily and was tantalizingly flirtatious. She told me her name was Abigail, and that she was visiting from Georgia. I could well believe that, as her voice had the sweetest southern lilt of all time, which made everything she said that much sexier. As time went on we grew even friendlier, and things couldn’t have been going any better—until, out of nowhere, I was abruptly accosted by the girl Abigail had been talking to earlier. Her name was Ellen, and apparently she and Abigail were old college buddies getting together for the first time in years. She seemed to be quite jealous—even though she had her own thing going with some dude at the bar—and worried that I might be stealing her long-lost friend for the night. In fact, she came right out and said so, with all of the finesse of a rabid wolverine.
“I’m onto you, pal,” she said, wagging her finger inches from my face. “Don’t think I’m gonna let you pull some quick score and deprive me of my friend’s company, okay?”
I replied with restrained but palpable irritation that I was just out for some beers with my buds, and the fact that Abigail and I had developed a certain chemistry was neither a threat to her nor any of her business. But it didn’t seem to calm her down, and finally I took Abigail aside and told her that she should probably hang with her friend, since she was obviously feeling slighted, and that maybe I would catch her later.
Abigail told me how sorry she was that this had happened, but she agreed that she had better look after Ellen, who was a little tipsy (and, it seemed to me, a little mentally unstable in the bargain). Abigail and I exchanged phone numbers before we parted. Since she lived so far away, I wasn’t really sure why we had bothered with the phone numbers, but at least I had something to show for my near miss. This chick was as sweet and intelligent as she was gorgeous, and I was kicking myself thinking about what might have happened had it not been for her overly possessive friend.
It was about two in the morning, after I’d said good-bye to my buddies and was making the long, lonely drive home to the suburbs, when my cell phone rang. It was Abigail. “How long will it take for you to get to the Plaza Hotel?” she asked. Stunned, but in a very good way, I told her I could be there in fifteen minutes, and she said she would meet me in the lobby.
I had to find a place to turn around and then h
ead back into the city, and it actually took me about twenty-five minutes to get there. But sure enough, Abigail was waiting, looking more gorgeous than ever. It turned out that her friend Ellen was not only an overprotective whack job, but a hypocrite as well. After all that crap about not wanting to lose Abigail’s company, she had brought her newfound squeeze from the bar back to the hotel room the two of them were sharing!
Rather than having to endure listening to someone else having sex all night, Abigail had opted to call me. I told her I was very glad she had, and that even though Ellen had acted in an incredibly shabby way toward her, I was grateful for the result. Abigail smiled at me and said that she was, too.
I then sprang for a room in the hotel, which cost me three hundred dollars I couldn’t afford—child support, alimony, and lawyers’ fees can be a bitch. Not that I’m complaining, though—I would have given my left nut for this girl!
The second we got into our room Abigail attacked me like a hungry tigress. My pants were around my ankles before I could even get my suit jacket off. It turned out that Abigail had not had any satisfying sex for far too long. Like me, she was recently divorced, and even when she’d been married, her sex life with her workaholic husband had been sporadic at best. Now she was ready to bust loose, and apparently I had been in the right place at the right time. I was determined to make the most of the opportunity.
In addition to her numerous other attributes, Abigail was only twenty-five. I, being thirty-eight and a little concerned that I might be nearing the transition from the regular to the senior tour, was pleasantly surprised to learn that she found “older men” very attractive. Needless to say, it was the thrill of a lifetime to be able to deliver the goods to a chick as cute and as youthful as Abigail. The fact that her body was flawless and her pussy was shaved certainly didn’t hurt either. Nice on the outside, naughty on the inside. What an awesome combo!
But what I truly couldn’t get over was her enthusiasm level. Either she was a remarkable thespian and a great liar, or she really thought I was the most talented and well-endowed lover she had ever had. She went at our coupling with every ounce of energy and talent that she could muster, and her pleasure seemed unbounded. She invoked the name of the Almighty more than a few times as we pounded away at each other, and literally squealed with delight the entire time. At one point, she even blurted out, “Oh, god, I’m the luckiest girl in the world!”
Abigail also liked to talk dirty during sex. Not over-the-top raunchy—just enough to add even more spice to what was already a very hot dish.
By this point, I almost didn’t care whether she was putting me on or not. This was better than any porn movie I’d ever seen, and I was more than happy to be starring in it.
It had been quite a while since I had had sex for the better part of five hours, let alone having three orgasms in one night. But this was both the greatest and the flukiest score I had ever had, and I was determined to give Abigail everything I had, both physically and in terms of going deep into my playbook for every position I could think of. And to hear a girl who was so damn cute, so girl-next-door sweet, and so just plain hot gushing over me so breathlessly for almost the entire night was absolutely the greatest thrill I could ever have imagined. It was a night I will certainly never forget.
The next morning we had breakfast in bed and hung out for a while, and then we did it again before I had to leave. She gave me another ego boost by telling me that if I ever got down to Georgia I should definitely give her a call, and she would drop everything so we could be together—day and night, she said.
I kissed her lingeringly at the door to the room, and the last thing I said to her was, “Tell your friend Ellen I said thanks!”
—S.B., New York, New York
Beach Ball
I was sitting and relaxing at the beach after a hard day’s work, watching all the people enjoying the warmth of the sun, tanning their bodies from ghost-white to a golden hue. As I was applying some more lotion to my arms, I looked over my shoulder and spotted a tall, well-built young man. I immediately liked what I saw; he had dark hair, his skin was smooth and very nicely tanned, and his eyes were so blue that I felt I could drown myself in them without any remorse.
Catching me looking at him, he moved up and started a conversation with me, and we spent a part of that late afternoon getting to know each other. He told me his name was Saul, and he asked if I was a regular at the beach, as he hadn’t seen me there before. I explained that it was the closest beach I could park at on my way home from work, and since I usually carried my bathing suit in my car, I had just stopped there to wind down from a hectic day.
After a while the beach gradually emptied as people went home to get on with their evening routines. Being single, I had nothing awaiting me at home, and I wanted to stay and see the sunset, so I asked my newfound friend if he would like to stay and keep me company for a while. He swiftly accepted the invitation.
We had a moment of silence after that, before Saul leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips. Though I was inwardly taken aback, I neither objected nor tried to stop him, deciding to let whatever was going to happen, happen. The next thing I knew we were kissing passionately, falling to the sand and fondling each other’s body. Saul undid my bikini top and started kissing my breasts, sucking on the nipples. I was very turned on, and I found myself wishing to be eaten right then and there. I felt the juices flowing from my pussy, and this turned me on even more.
I reached down to the waistband of his tight trunks and pushed them down far enough to reveal his half-hard cock. I heard myself moan at the sight of it, and I slid down to put my mouth on it, sucking it into full erection. I licked the shaft slowly from base to tip, then wrapped my mouth around it again and glided all the way down. Saul was panting, obviously enjoying himself. His back arched, but I could tell he was fighting hard not to come right then. Well, I didn’t care if he did; I worked away at his cock, sucking up, then down, licking it from side to side, and front and back, paying attention to every inch of it, not missing a spot. I could sense the pressure building within him, but I didn’t let up, and finally his cock gave a powerful spasm and out shot his come, splashing all over my face and into my mouth. Still I kept sucking, enjoying his manhood ever so thoroughly and drawing every drop I could out of him.
Finally I stopped sucking and moved up to kiss him passionately on the lips, telling him how much I enjoyed sucking his cock and drinking his come. Saul kissed me back and said he had an idea, and he hoped I wouldn’t mind. I was still ragingly hot, and I told him I was open to anything at that point.
Saul smiled and turned me onto my stomach, quickly pulling off my bikini bottom. He then rubbed his cock down along my spine, and I could feel it getting hard again as he did so. It slid over my asscheeks, and then I felt it poking at my anus. I caught my breath and tried to relax so he could get in. After a moment his cock slid halfway into my ass, and he began to sort of half-fuck me that way. Soon I was begging for more, pushing back at him, but he teased me, not allowing me to receive all of him as yet.
I gave a little cry as he pulled his cock out, and he started to kiss down my body, following the trail his cock had made earlier. His lips moved over my buttocks, and then he was kissing my pussy, flicking his tongue teasingly and licking up my flowing juices. Soon I was moving to the rhythm of his tongue, wanting more. As if he knew what I was thinking he started to fuck me with that tongue, pushing it in as deep as it would go, then running it all over my pussy lips and down to my clit, circling it softly but with a kind of pressure that made me gasp and plead for him never to stop. He did this again and again, his tongue moving in and out of my pussy, then over my lips and clit. As I got close to the brink he concentrated on my clit, sucking it beautifully and bringing me to orgasmic explosion. A stream of nectar gushed out of my pussy and fell to the sand, while Saul lapped at it wildly, trying to savor as much of it as he could.
He stood up then and helped me up off the sand, and
we both went into the water. Standing in the surf, Saul hugged me tightly to him, then brought my legs up and lowered me down on his harder-than-hard cock. We swayed in the water, following the rhythm of the waves, kissing passionately and intensely with every thrust of his cock deep inside me. I felt chills of excitement as those thrusts seemed to go even deeper. His cock was hitting my G-spot and I could hear myself moaning over the sound of the waves. I couldn’t believe how great this man fucked!
I was feeling so hot that I knew I had to have that cock in my ass again, but all of it this time. Letting go of Saul, I allowed myself to fall away, his cock slipping out of my pussy. I turned over, crouching on my hands and knees in the water, crying for him to stick it in my ass and fuck me there hard. I wanted him to fuck every hole in my body, not leaving any part of me untouched by his manhood. Saul got down behind me and grabbed my arms to get a good grip, then slid himself into my asshole and fucked me as I had asked him to, bringing me to an orgasm more intense than any I had known before. My ass spasmed on his cock as I screamed out my joy.
Now Saul turned me around and slipped his cock deep into my pussy again, fucking me and kissing my breasts as they bobbed in the water. I could feel the heat of him, feel the pressure building in him. Again he fought hard to control it, but I tightened my arms and legs around him, as well as my cunt, that sucked at his dick like another mouth. When he came I came again with him, both of us thrusting and arching our backs as he spurted again and again into my pussy.
Panting and kissing, we relaxed in each other’s arms, lying there in the water, our lower bodies still locked together, not wanting to let go of each other as the last of the sun’s rays disappeared over the horizon.
—R.M., Lincoln City, Oregon
Sex in the Sauna
You can always tell. Try hanging around the supermarket on a Friday or Saturday night around seven or eight o’clock, and you’d be surprised how often you’ll spot some really hot-looking babe on line at the checkout with just some kind of junk food in her basket—or, an even better sign, a bottle of wine. This babe, for some reason, is without a date for the evening, and is going home to an empty apartment to offset her horniness with some empty calories and/or a bit of alcohol. Never fails.
Letters to Penthouse XXXIII Page 22
