Letters to Penthouse XXVI

by Penthouse International

  I had come so hard I could barely move, but my desire to taste his cock gave me energy I didn’t know I had. I slid out from under him and put him on his back, hoping to give him as royal a treatment as he’d given me. I licked his ears, and the sides of his neck, nibbling on his smooth skin as I worked my way down his body to the hairless expanse of his chest. I lingered over his nipples, taking each of them into my mouth as he groaned deeply with every movement of my tongue.

  I felt his cock hard against my leg, almost begging for attention, and as soon as I moved down and took it in my warm mouth, the head spread even wider, filling my face with delicious cock. I grabbed his balls with my hand and lightly scratched them with my fingernails, feeling his member swell even larger in my mouth. Soon, I was sliding my full lips up and down the length of him, taking as much of his cock as I could deep down my throat, then sucking upward and licking long circles around the cockhead, dipping my tongue tip into his slit.

  As I took him deep in my mouth again, I reached my hand under his ass and stroked between his asscheeks until my finger slid into his asshole. I thrust my finger in and out of his ass in sync with him fucking my face, and together our fucking got faster and more intense until he lurched forward and shot a huge load of creamy come down my throat, while letting out an animal cry of ecstasy. I swallowed down his sweet liquid, but a little bubble of it dribbled onto my lips and he leaned forward to gently lick it off me.

  We drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Several hours later, when I awoke, my pussy quivered, still wanting the feel of Edward’s cock plunging into its warm depths. I roused him from sleep by climbing on top of him and stroking his shaft to a rock-hard erection. I lowered my juicy cunt over his cock and eased myself down on it as his newly opened eyes met mine. It felt incredible as his large member filled me up as I rocked back and forth on it, rubbing my engorged clit against him with every movement. Fully awake, he grasped me by the hips and pulled me harder down on him, speeding up the pace of our fucking, surging deeper into my hot, squishy pussy.

  I was riding him hard, bringing us closer and closer, and feeling him grow bigger and harder inside me as he thrust away at my hungry pussy. Our moans of pleasure collided, filling the room with the sounds of sex. Edward reached up and clutched both of my breasts in his hands, playing his fingers gently over my nipples, giving me exactly what I needed to send an orgasm surging through me. I felt my pussy walls grab hold of his cock and squeeze it as I came. The tight embrace of my pussy around his shaft sent him into a frenzy, his stomach muscles tightening as his cock shot streams of hot come deep inside me.

  I fell over onto his chest, exhausted and completely satisfied. We slept all the way through teatime and supper, not actually rousing ourselves from bed until our hunger got the better of us and we rushed out for some jacket potatoes and kebabs from the street vendor on the corner.

  Edward and I spent the rest of the days of my visit exploring around Oxford. First off was visiting a few of the more beautiful colleges, making it to about five of the thirty-nine, and walking around enjoying the magnificent architecture and landmarks of the “city of dreaming spires,” in particular, the incredible Radcliffe Camera and the world-renowned Bodleian Library. We went to the Covered Market for fresh sandwiches and a number of pubs for fine ale and cider, including one where C. S. Lewis spent much of his time. We revisited places from our friendly past and created new special places for our romantic future. And our nights were spent with even more fun exploring each other in bed.

  When I finally made it to Paris to see my girlfriend, I was too tired and too much in love with Edward to meet Frenchmen. I did, however, have a wonderful time shopping for sexy French lingerie, which I plan to wear on my next visit to Oxford, which can’t happen soon enough for me.

  —J.P., Cedar Rapids, Iowa

  G’DAY, MATE! SEASONED TRAVELER HAS SPLENDID TIME IN AUSTRALIA

  I needed a vacation. Working six, sometimes seven days a week trying to put my latest venture, a dot.com retailer, on solid footing had left me with jangled nerves and turned my usually pleasant disposition into something bordering on evil. Oh, yeah, I needed a break, all right. But where to go to lift my spirits and rekindle my love of life? That was the question. And the answer didn’t come easily.

  Fortunately, my success in the business world at an early age has given me a certain financial security, permitting me to indulge in interesting risky ventures, like the dot.com, and enabling me to travel extensively. Down through the years, whether it was for business or pleasure, I’ve visited almost all of Europe, many of the more popular tropical islands, most of Asia, and much of North and South America. Which is why I couldn’t decide where to go when I realized I simply had to get away from it all for a while.

  And then, quite by chance, I got a call from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in a while who, in the course of our conversation, told me of the fabulous time he’d had in Sydney, Australia, during the Olympic Games in 2000. “It’s the most beautiful city in the world,” he opined enthusiastically. “And the beaches in Australia are just fabulous. And the women? Pal, we’re talking drop-dead gorgeous. You’ve got to check it out sometime.”

  My old buddy made a trip to Sydney sound so appealing that by the time we hung up I was already mentally arranging my work schedule so I could take ten days off in January, which I now knew was summer in Australia. In the days that followed I grew more and more excited about my first-ever visit to the land “down under,” as I recalled the inviting views of Australia from telecasts during the Olympics. Yeah, this was going to be all right, I thought.

  All right? Man, it was nothing less than fabulous. Perhaps the best time I’ve had anywhere in all of my travels. From the moment my plane touched down at Kingsford Smith International Airport to the day I had to fly home, I was kept enthralled by the beauty and charm of Sydney and its magnificent harbor, in particular. Out and about soon after checking into my hotel, I strolled along Circular Quay for a bit before returning to the hotel restaurant to enjoy a meal of Sydney rock oysters and John Dory, the tasty local fish, washed down with a couple of pints of Australian beer, of course. I fell asleep that night thinking that my vacation was off to a very good start.

  I’ve always been an adventurous sort, tirelessly exploring the myriad attractions of whatever place I happen to be visiting, wanting to make the very most of my time there, and it was no different in Australia. The sheer vastness of the country proved a challenge, yet during my stay I managed to visit, among other sites, The Rocks, the oldest part of Sydney with its cobbled streets and colonial buildings, the world-famous Sydney Opera House, and Taronga Zoo, home to some of the country’s unique animals. I even spent a day in the Australian Outback, where I got to see Uluru, or Ayers Rock, a site sacred to the local Aborigines. This great red rock towers into the sky and changes hue at dawn and sunset. Really impressive. But it’s Bondi Beach that holds the best memories for me, for that’s where I met Elaine.

  It was my third time on the grand dame of Sydney’s beaches and I was taking it all in, the glorious sunshine, the crystal-clear water, and perhaps most of all, the bevy of beautiful, bikini-clad women who seemed to be everywhere I looked. These Australian beach bunnies were, as my friend had said, absolutely stunning women, with their perfectly proportioned, well-tanned bodies—true eye candy for all red-blooded men, yours truly being one of them.

  I was looking through a pamphlet on the Sydney Opera House when I was approached by a stunning woman of about my age, forty, in a one-piece blue bathing suit that neatly complemented her shoulder-length honey-blonde hair. She had only to open her mouth to ask me directions to the Opera House and I knew that here was a woman of style and keen intellect. Instantly attracted to her, I wasted no time engaging her in conversation, which eventually led to her gathering all of her things and bringing them over to my blanket. My pulse quickened at the possibility that she was as taken with me as I was with her.

  We talked and tal
ked and talked some more, neither one of us in any hurry to part company. And then suddenly it was dinnertime. “I was at a lovely place the other night,” enthused Elaine, a never-married lawyer from New York whose mature sexiness I was beginning to find irresistible. “Would you like to . . .” Her voice trailed off as she gave me a small smile. “I’d love to,” I said.

  Elaine was staying at the Sheraton Wentworth, too, so we hurried back to the hotel and our respective rooms to change, then met in the lobby at the time we had agreed upon. Then it was off to Watson’s Bay for a fabulous seafood dinner at Doyles on the Beach, after which I took Elaine to a pub in The Rocks that I had discovered my second night in Sydney. Here, amid some delightful characters, we downed a few beers before heading back to our hotel. The evening had been full of intelligent talk and laughter, making me feel good all over, and I didn’t want it to end. Happily, neither did Elaine, which is why we ended up in my hotel room stripping off our clothes in a frenzy of lust and then toppling into the large bed in a feverish embrace, our lips mashing together passionately.

  Emitting a little growl, Elaine dove immediately for my cock, which was already at full attention and throbbing in readiness. “Did I tell you that sucking cock is one of my favorite things?” she said, smiling up at me from between my legs. Before I could respond she was sucking me into her mouth, sexy slurping sounds accompanying this delightful exercise and making me all the hotter for her. Up and down her beautiful head bobbed, her lips gliding smoothly over my saliva-coated shaft, her tongue doing a merry dance on the sensitive underside.

  At one point, she took her mouth off me and smiled broadly. “See how you like this?” she said with a wink. And the next thing I knew she had the entire length of my cock in her lovely throat, which almost made me lose it then and there. Damn, this woman was hot!

  Several minutes later, realizing I needed to calm down a bit and eager to taste my delightful new friend, I got her spread-eagled on the bed and commenced a serious tonguing of her fragrant pussy, lapping up her freely flowing juices like a thirsty adventurer who had gotten himself lost in the Outback and suddenly come upon an oasis. Elaine responded to my efforts with sighs and gasps and moans, her hips arching off the bed when I started in on her clit. Soon her hands were flying down to my head to hold it in place, my face mashed against her sizzling cunt, as she shuddered through an obviously very strong orgasm.

  “God, you’re good,” she said when she could speak. “Where did you learn to eat pussy like that?” I told her I could ask her the same thing about sucking cock. We laughed then, realizing, I think, that past history was of no importance here, that it could even dampen desire, and neither one of us wanted that. This time was for us and us alone.

  Staring down at my rigid member, Elaine said, “You’ll fuck my pussy first and then my ass. Doggy-style. Okay.”

  Okay? Where had this marvelous woman been all my life? No sooner had she assumed a position with her head down, cradled between her arms, and her sweet bottom up than I was maneuvering into place behind her and sending my cock home in one strong, easy stroke. “Oh, yes, oh, yes,” Elaine said excitedly. “Pound me, Chad. Make me feel it.”

  I did my best to comply, tossing finesse to the wind as I thrust hard and fast into my wonderful friend’s warm, wet pussy and heard her answering gasps and cries of pleasure. As her climax drew near, she asked—no, she demanded—that I spank her, and I was quick to respond. Several hard smacks to her uptilted bottom, on the left and right cheeks, had her shrieking into the bedsheet and then, very soon thereafter, crying out that she was coming. “My ass now,” she said to me breathlessly. “Stick it in my ass.”

  Adjusting my position so I had the correct angle, I put the head of my excited cock at Elaine’s pretty anus and pressed home. My cock slid into her rear passage with relative ease and then I was sawing in and out of her ass, again slapping her cheeks at her command. “Oh, yes, it feels so good in my ass,” Elaine whimpered into the bedsheet. “Fuck me hard, lover.”

  I did as asked, drilling my cock into Elaine’s bottom again and again as she alternately thanked me and urged me on to even greater effort. And then I simply could hold off no longer and blasted my seed into that curvaceous ass of hers, at which point Elaine informed me in a husky voice that she was coming, too. Thoroughly drained, I fell forward onto her back, my weight flattening her on the bed. We lay like that, breathing hard, with me desperately trying to remember the last time I’d had such a good time in bed.

  Happily, Elaine and I had several more good times in bed before it was time for us to part company. We had one of those sweet, sad partings at the airport you see in the movies, kissing passionately and then waving good-bye as Elaine hurried off to catch her flight to New York and I took a cab back to my hotel. A day and a half later I was back at the airport, this time to board a plane back to California.

  I spent the entire trip home wondering if I’d ever see Elaine again, mulling over the possible answers to all those questions a man asks himself when he’s found someone special but isn’t positive she feels the same. And I had all but convinced myself that I’d never see Elaine again when I got home and went to my computer to check my mail. And there she was.

  Her e-mail was rather lengthy, but what I focused on, what I feasted on, was “I miss you already. We have to figure out this East Coast-West Coast thing. And fast.” I felt like I’d just won the lottery.

  —C.Y., Los Angeles, California

  CURRYING FAVOR WITH A SPICY BEAUTY IN BOMBAY, INDIA

  I suppose I love India because that’s where I met my wife. I was taking a graduate course in engineering at the University of Bombay, and she was spending a year touring South Asia. With her handmade clothes, she was a free-spirited hippie type at a time when most women wore power suits with shoulder pads. Not that I saw a lot of that in India, but Anna’s laid-back attitude and wacky sense of humor were still a breath of fresh air.

  We met one night on Chowpatty Beach. I was strolling among the fortune-tellers, magicians, and locals when I saw her at a bhelpuri stand, buying some of the crunchy snack. I was startled to hear an American accent, and it wasn’t until about a block later, when she stopped to accuse me of following her, that I realized I was even walking.

  I apologized and explained that it was because I hadn’t heard an American voice in so long. Upon hearing that I lived in Bombay, Anna asked for suggestions of things to do and see.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be of much help,” I replied. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to look around.”

  “Not even Elephanta Island or the Hanging Gardens?” she exclaimed. When I shook my head no, she made me promise that I would take a weekend off and join her for a few days of sightseeing. There was no way I could refuse, and I didn’t want to. With her long strawberry-blonde hair, freckled face, and curvy body, she was as cute as a button, and even if my better judgment said that I should stay in and prepare for midterms, my cock dictated otherwise.

  I met Anna at her hotel early Saturday morning, and we set out on our tour of Bombay. We first hit the Pherozeshah Mehta Gardens, and smiled at the couples hidden among the topiary. That started a discussion about how bold Americans were, which continued as we boarded a red double-decker bus. We rode through the traffic-jammed streets to Kalbadevi, the outdoor bazaar with its crowded streets devoted to different products. There, Anna enjoyed the Zaveri Bazaar, which sold jewelry, while I was more interested in Chor Bazaar, or the “thieves’ market,” which sold pretty much anything, most of it junk.

  Then we took a boat to Elephanta Island. Its main attraction was the temples and shrines carved out of caves, dating back to 600 A.D. The main cave depicted the Trimurti, celebrating the trinity of Lord Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Many of the caves had dark inner cells, and it was in one of these that I first kissed the woman who later became my wife. I just had to take the chance, so in a dark corner of one of the caves, when no one else was around, I grabbed her hands and pulled her to me. She d
idn’t resist, but threw her arms around my neck, tilting her face upward.

  Our lips met in a long, sensuous kiss, her tongue slipping between my teeth to feel around. She felt warm and soft in my arms and tasted of berries, which somehow didn’t surprise me. My cock thickened and grew large, throbbing when Anna rubbed against it. I had one hand at the small of her back and the other on her breast, playing my fingertips over her hard nipple. Anna moaned into my mouth and ground against me as I pinched her nub.

  We were both on fire, but not because of the hot Indian sun baking the cave. I wanted to fuck Anna, and when she moaned, “Oh, God, do me, do me now,” I knew we’d never make it back to her hotel or my dorm. It was around lunchtime, so the caves were pretty empty, but just to be sure I took a quick look around. Seeing no one, I slipped a hand up her light sundress, smiling when I encountered nothing but smooth pussy lips that were already damp. Going pantyless in a modest place like Bombay was exactly something a girl like Anna would do.

  She grabbed my wrist and moved my hand over her mound, so I quickly abandoned my thoughts. Then I rubbed my palm slowly over her pussy, but Anna was impatient, spreading her legs wider so that my hand brushed against her clitoris. When I made circles over her clit with my fingertips, I felt Anna’s body shake. Then she let out a small cry when I slipped two fingers into her dripping hole.

  I finger-fucked her pussy with increasing speed, my movements facilitated by her natural lube. Anna was breathing so hard that she couldn’t hold our kiss, so instead she moaned into my neck as she sucked and bit my skin. I wondered how my professor would react when I showed up in class on Monday with a big red splotch on my neck, but I didn’t really care because just then Anna was scrabbling at my belt buckle.

  With my pants around my ankles and my cock in Anna’s hand, I thrust my fingers in and out of her cunt. She pumped my dick in her fist, squeezing my balls with her other hand. I could tell she was coming when her movements stopped and her grasp on my shaft tightened. To send her over the top, I placed my thumb on her clit and pressed hard. She cried out as her cunt pulsed around my fingers and her clitoris twitched beneath my thumb. Then she fell to her knees, drained.