Letters to Penthouse XXVI

by Penthouse International

  Wearing my chinos, a button-down shirt, and penny loafers, I felt decidedly out of place. Just as I turned to leave, someone grabbed my arm to stop me. When I turned around, I was face to face with a woman with pixie-short hair, the eyes of a cat, and lips painted red and glossy. “Don’t go,” she whispered above the din. “I’m Simone.”

  She led me to a tiny table in the back, motioning for the waitress to bring us two Cosmopolitans. As she told me a little bit about her career as a graphic artist, I felt someone staring at me. I chalked it up to some middle-age phobia, but glanced through the thick crowd just to be sure.

  That’s when I saw her. If it weren’t for her unmistakable almond-shaped eyes, I never would have recognized her in the black velvet cape and long blonde hair. My wife, the sexy yet conservative brunette, had somehow managed to transform herself into this erotic magnet, and in slow motion I got up from the table and walked toward her. Simone was quickly forgotten in all the excitement.

  Marla simply smiled and said something in French, a language in which she’s fluent while I’m clearly faltering. It didn’t matter to me one franc as she led me through a tiny door behind the bar, the scent of an unfamiliar perfume floating off her skin.

  She took me inside a small, square room with no windows. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim, sultry light provided by a few candles placed in the corners. She enveloped me in her arms and began to kiss me, her lips tasting somehow spicier, more exotic than normal. She pressed her body against mine with a fervor I nearly didn’t recognize, and within seconds I was rock-hard.

  She quickly undressed me, keeping herself swathed in black velvet as I stood curiously naked in the center of the room. My cock stood out straight with a spot of pre-come glistening on the head. I was so horny I thought I might explode. Marla stepped back to lean against a wall, opening her cape slightly to stroke her breasts and then her pussy. She had even dyed her pussy blonde! I moved toward her, but just then the door opened again and a slim figure slipped in. It was Simone!

  My wife took her in her arms and began to kiss her, opening up the cape to let her inside. Some movement went on beneath the luxurious fabric and soon I could see that Simone had dropped her own pants down around her ankles. Marla was taller than Simone, and she seemed to wrap one leg up around her waist. It was just dark enough for me to be teased by their interplay without really being able to make out any details—but that was all about to change.

  The two women seemed to be moving with one another in an erotic dance, and as my wife’s head dropped back in ecstasy, I knew she was about to come. As she started to moan with increased urgency, the cape slipped off her shoulders and she stood there nude in the arms of Simone.

  Simone was wearing an oversized blazer over some kind of dark underwear with a dildo attached. I could see its shaft as she pulled out of my wife’s hot cunt, shiny and thick and pale in the dim light. I changed my vantage point so I could see her delicate pussy lips stretch around the bulbous cockhead of the toy as Simone pulled it nearly all the way out before shoving it back in.

  “Fuck her hard,” I said, wanting my wife’s pleasure as much as I wanted my own. “Do it! Fuck her hard!” Simone pushed Marla up against the wall and, with surprising strength, managed to hold my wife’s legs apart and in the air as she drove into her at a furious pace. My wife’s face took on an expression of sensual anguish as she clearly lost control.

  Simone gently lowered my wife’s feet to the ground and pulled out of her. The dildo was obscene as it hung between her legs. Marla looked satiated but still ready for more, getting down on the floor doggy-style. I pushed the cape up around her hips and gripped her bare skin as I speared into her dripping pussy with one firm stroke. I fucked her hard, using all the building mystery of the day to fuel my passion, and she eagerly bucked back into me.

  Simone knelt before us and watched with a small smile on her face, waving her still-wet “cock” near Marla’s face until my wife started to suck it. I slowed down my thrusts a bit as she found her rhythm, and soon we were in a very erotic threesome. I could tell that the pressure of my wife’s mouth on the dildo was pressing it against Simone’s clit as she closed her eyes in blissful satisfaction, rocking her hips in time with Marla’s attentions.

  My wife, who is multiorgasmic to begin with, was coming in wave after wave, her moans muffled by the dildo in her mouth, but I could feel by the clenching and pulsing of her pussy that this was the best fucking she’d ever received. My cock was grateful for the pressure, especially as her muscles contracted around my cockhead near the entrance of her marvelous pussy. She felt so tight and smooth that it took every ounce of discipline not to erupt.

  When I did come, it was so loud and so long that I wonder to this day if the entire café crowd heard us. No one seemed to notice as the three of us quietly left the secret room a while later, Simone fading into the night as my wife and I held hands for a midnight walk down Fifth Avenue.

  —A.D., Los Angeles, California

  RAVISHING SEA NYMPH AND BOLD SCUBA DIVER PUT ON SPLASHY SHOW

  Thousands of tiny bubbles fluttered from my scuba gear and swirled up toward the surface of the water forty feet above me. All around me fish of many colors filled my field of vision with what looked like a kaleidoscope splintered into a million pieces. The water was as warm as broth and window-clear.

  Far above, a large shadow passed between me and the sun. My first thought was a shark or manta ray. The waters in the Sea of Cortez are famous for both. I eased over on my back and looked straight up.

  She was swimming slowly and languidly on the surface, nude, her skin golden brown, her full breasts swaying with the gentle rhythm of her breaststroke, her long, slender legs undulating with the grace and flexibility of the fish that swam all around me.

  I was mesmerized; I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I froze because she was looking straight down into the depths, but she wore no face mask and her feet were free of the ungainly flippers that snorkelers wear. Her nipples were dark and rosy pink against the brown of her breasts, her black hair long and spread out behind her, her bush a tiny ebony triangle.

  I’d been diving in this cove for over a week and she was the first person I’d seen. This was my cove, I’d started to believe, just for me and the astonishingly beautiful sea creatures that filled it with pulsing life. Who was this interloper? I kept my distance behind and below her as she swam slowly toward the sea cave.

  Inside the cave was a lagoon, the water so transparent it was invisible, with swaying schools of small fish, silver and blue and scarlet, like glittering gems flung across the limpid emptiness. Light shone from cracks in the rock high above, creating shafts of gold across the dim light.

  She swam in and climbed out onto a huge slab of rock as black and smooth as a cheek from aeons of the wash of high tide. I felt like a transgressor here, watching this lovely young woman innocent of clothing. I watched, my face barely above the water, in the shadows only a few feet away.

  She stretched out on the polished black rock, spread-eagled, legs wide open, arms over her head. Her long hair snaked out on the rock, black on black. The pink of her pussy glistened against the black of her bush. Her breasts were large and firm. I could hear her breathing, rhythmic and sweet.

  Slowly she began to stroke her still-wet breasts, gently pushing them together, squeezing and releasing them as though she were trying to bring milk from her nipples. They were swollen now, like rosy little buds, full and erect.

  Her smile seemed to look inward as she pleasured her slick, firm globes, kneading her nipples between her long brown fingers. Soft gasps of her pleasure echoed in the cavern like a strange sensual kind of water music.

  My cock was bulging in my bathing suit and I reached down just to get it into a more comfortable position, but my hand stayed there, stroking myself just as she was stroking herself. I eased my cock out into the water, milking it, stroking, unconsciously mimicking her rhythm. Hundreds of tiny fish, silver and sc
arlet, swam past me, some of them brushing against my chest, flicking like butterflies across my nipples. They swam between my legs, gliding past my hard cock, touching, caressing my balls.

  I watched as she slid two of her slender brown fingers into her vagina and her thumb fluttered against her clit. In a faster and faster fucking pulse, her fingers plunged in and out of her pussy. Up and down she gently thumbed her swollen clit as she got closer and closer to her orgasm. Her throbbing cadence increased bit by bit, and mine did, too, as I fisted my rock-hard cock.

  Her back arched as she came, her scream of passion slicing the moist air like a mad seagull, echoing back and forth in the cavern. I came with her, my hot juice spurting out into the water, a fountain of milky fire drifting slowly past the silver darts of the tiny fish.

  She was breathing long and slow, spread-eagled still, her legs open, her pussy swollen, shiny wet, and flushed dark pink. With each breath her large firm breasts rose and fell, swaying gently. I wanted to suck her rosy nipples, lick them while they were still full and swollen with passion.

  But I couldn’t. I was an intruder here, a voyeur invading this beautiful young woman’s privacy. I slipped my mouthpiece in and sank into the crystalline depths. Slowly I swam out of the sea cave, expecting never to see her again. At least she hadn’t seen me spying on her secret passion—or so I thought.

  I went to bed early that night in my hotel room and tried to read one of the books I’d brought with me about sea life. I was considering changing professions from the world of computers, which had begun to bore me, to marine biology. I couldn’t concentrate, though, nor could I sleep. She haunted me.

  About two in the morning I gave up and went down to the beach. The throbbing surf masked the music from the disco. Clouds were gathering in the distance.

  There she was, walking toward me on the sand, naked, with her long black hair swaying free in the breeze. She was barely visible in the starlight. We didn’t speak until we stood so close I could feel the warmth of her body. She tossed her head fetchingly as she said she’d enjoyed me watching her and was glad I’d liked what I saw.

  I nodded and gasped because I felt her hand stroking my cock. It had risen at the sight of her, but now it was alive, straining against my skimpy bathing suit. I felt overdressed. Her smiling lips met mine as her other hand stroked across my nipples, which suddenly grew hot and erect. Then both her hands cupped her breasts and offered them to me, to my hot gaze and my eager mouth. I kissed her swollen nipples. She moaned with passion as I sucked first one and then the other into my mouth, tonguing them gently.

  Her body shuddered as she thrust her hips against mine. My cock was spear-hard as I pushed it against the softness of her belly. My tongue and lips felt the throb of her heart in her nipples like the stormy beat of a drum. Warm waves swirled around our legs as I pulled my bathing suit down over my straining cock. Our arms around each other, we tumbled down onto the soft sand as the water lapped around us. The wind picked up a little and big, dark clouds moved across the sky. Far in the distance was a glow of lightning.

  Her legs opened to me and my cock entered her pussy. The rhythm of the sea slowly rolled us back and forth. As I eased into her inch by inch she moaned, gripping my thighs and pulling me in deep. She was gripping my cock so hard I thought I’d come right away. I wanted this to last forever as I gentled the power of my thrusting to match the soft back and forth of the warm waves.

  Suddenly a blaze of lightning arced across the sky and she laughed as thunder boomed over the ocean. Under her then over her, I thrust into her hot slick pussy, her long slender legs wrapped around me, her nails raking across my chest, flicking fire as they ran over my nipples. The water wrapped around us, the rain sluiced down our naked bodies as we fucked. She moaned as I drove my cock into her delicate pussy. She leaned against me and her sharp white teeth found my nipple.

  I felt my juices begin to overflow as her pussy tightened and her gasps came faster and faster. We exploded together, twin volcanoes in a whirlpool of sea and rain. The tide was ebbing and the waves left us spent on the sand, the rain washing us clean.

  I came again that night as she sucked my cock. She seemed shy as she took me in her mouth, but that impression was quickly washed away. Deep she took me in a sea-slow rhythm, tonguing my shaft, and when my passion roared through me she gripped my ass tightly, sucking me dry and holding me lovingly in her mouth as the waves tumbled us about.

  At dawn she said she had to leave me. I asked how I could find her again, but she gently evaded my questions. We said good-bye with a long, gentle kiss, deep and tender. Then she turned out of my arms and walked out into the surf.

  —K.A., Cedar Rapids, Iowa

  A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL IS MADE AND ACCEPTED IN CARACAS, VENEZUELA

  “Donde puede cambiar dolares?” I heard Deanne’s dulcet tones as she read from her book of Spanish words and phrases. She had been brushing up on her Spanish for a month in anticipation of our trip to Caracas, while I was hunting down the perfect engagement ring.

  From the moment Deanne suggested we take a trip to Venezuela, I knew that that was where I would propose. And I wanted to slip that princess-cut diamond on her finger in just the right place, at just the right time.

  A flamboyant, metropolitan atmosphere seemed to swallow us up upon our arrival in Caracas. Brimming over a narrow valley and divided from the coastline by the imposing Mount Avila, the city feels chic and exotic.

  After we had settled into our hotel room, I told Deanne I was eager to get out and see the sights. In truth, I was in a hurry to find the perfect place to propose to her. She, however, was content to make herself at home.

  “Oh, it’s so hot! Aren’t you hot?” she said as she began taking off her clothes. That’s my Deanne, always looking for an excuse to get naked. That was something I found out about her early on in our relationship. It was probably our third date or so, and I had yet to make any moves on her. I really liked her from the start and wanted things to go smoothly. I figured if she knew I wasn’t dating her just to get in her pants, she’d be a lot happier. So I decided to abstain from any sexual advances until the time was right.

  Apparently Deanne and I had different ideas about when the time was right. Because there she was in her apartment on our third date whining, “Oh, no, I must have spilled something on my favorite shirt during dinner. I better take this off immediately. I can’t stand to look at it. It breaks my heart.”

  I just assumed she’d go into the bedroom to change, but Deanne saw no need for another shirt (and when she took off her shirt I realized she hadn’t found a need for a bra either). Faster than you can say “good riddance,” my vow of abstinence was out the door and my hands were squeezing Deanne’s full breasts.

  Now, two years later, Deanne was still abandoning her clothes every chance she got, and I watched as if seeing her for the first time as she slipped out of her shorts and pulled off her crop top. Her large breasts spilled out of her bra as soon as she undid the clasp.

  I couldn’t ignore the protrusion between my legs, so I took off all my clothes and brought Deanne to bed where we fell into each other’s arms. You would have thought we were first-time lovers the way we pawed each other like two wild animals.

  I trailed gentle kisses down her neck until I reached her breasts, where my mouth moved to one of her hard little nubs. I sucked it in my mouth and pulled on it lightly, stretching it away from her skin and then releasing my hold. Then I teased her other breast in the same manner before making my way down the smooth expanse of her stomach.

  I stuck my tongue inside her belly button and then dragged it down to her pussy, where I traced her lips with my tongue tip. She wriggled beneath me as I began to flick her clitoris and she raised her pelvis to grind against my mouth as I explored her hot sex. With my tongue stroking up and down her labia, and then rubbing her little clit, she soon erupted in orgasm, grabbing my head and pushing my face harder into her cunt.

  Once we finally left the ho
tel room, Deanne and I made our way over to Plaza Bolívar, one of the many squares in the city and home of the equestrian statue of Simón Bolívar. It occurred to me that the plush gardens of the square would make for a romantic proposal site, but it was an extremely hot day and with sweat dripping down my sweet Deanne’s face and my stomach rumbling, I quickly changed my mind.

  There was not another chance to propose on our first day there, because after visiting Plaza Bolívar we went to dinner and then returned to our hotel room for a good night’s sleep.

  The following day was Sunday, and both Deanne and I thought it was the perfect time to go see the Roman Catholic cathedral. After mass, while standing outside the majestic chapel, holding Deanne’s hand, I continuously fingered the ring box that was tucked securely in my jean-shorts pocket while debating if now was the time. Deanne turned around and smiled that sweet, cherubic smile of hers.

  “Deanne,” I began, slightly stuttering. “Would you . . .”

  Deanne stopped me in mid-proposal by hitting my shoulder and screaming at the top of her lungs. Startled, I asked her what was wrong. “You just had some kind of big bug on you, that’s all.” She had collected herself but the moment was lost. “What was it you were going to ask me? Would I what?”

  “Mind if we took a trip to the men’s room,” I answered with a faint smile.

  And so our trip went, with Deanne and I going from sight to sight, with never an opportune time to propose presenting itself. By our last night, as we packed our bags, I had given up. I was starting to think that maybe it was all a sign of some kind.

  Sure, I had enjoyed our trip, but what I had anticipated more than anything was seeing the look on Deanne’s face as I slipped that band of gold on her finger, and hearing her say the word “yes.”

  We decided to pack in the early evening to get it out of the way so we could enjoy a nice dinner on our last night in the city. We left the Caracas Hilton International at about seven and took our rental car over to La Estancia restaurant.