Ralph had gotten excited again watching us, and decided he wanted to take another turn. He stepped up to her and shoved his dick at her mouth, and she happily gobbled it in. We developed a compatible rhythm, fucking her from both ends. Shannon cried out in ecstasy as another intense orgasm hit her, which set both Ralph and me off. We both shouted as we shot all we had left into her bucking body.
As we pulled away from Shannon, I looked down to see come streaming out of all her holes. A look of contentment was etched on her face as she slid down to the floor, still shaking and convulsing. I lay down next to her and held onto her, basking in her postorgasmic bliss.
The five guys now quickly got dressed and left, thanking Shannon for the incredible night. She told them the pleasure had been hers, and she meant it.
“I love you so much for sharing this with me,” she said to me when they had gone.
“I’m not sure which one of us enjoyed it more,” I replied.
“Oh, by the way,” she added, “Ralph wants to bring his softball team over to celebrate the end of the season next week. I hope you don’t mind.”
I told her I didn’t mind a bit.—Y.R., Atlanta, Georgia
Open Season
HER FOOTBALL-PLAYER HUSBAND ENCOURAGES
HER TO SAMPLE THE WORLD OF BLACK COCKS
My husband, at thirty-seven, is a very attractive man—a little over six-three, with the muscular build of the football player he was. Our sex life has always been wild and abundant. I’m five-six, one hundred twenty pounds, measuring 36C-25-36. I’ve trained with weights all my adult life, and at thirty-one, thanks to a boob job and my high, round butt, I still turn heads wherever I go.
Last spring my husband took a job in a new city. As we unpacked from the move, we came across a box of adult movies, so we watched a couple. I commented on the frequency of interracial scenes, and my husband asked if I was turned on by the black men in the videos. I admitted I’d never noticed black men in videos before. The ones I saw in college didn’t have interracial scenes. And since I’d never dated black men, I had no experience with such things. The more I watched, the more I saw how huge all the black cocks in the videos were. I blurted this out to my husband, and he just smiled.
A couple of weeks later we were watching more of the videos. Again I commented on the obvious size of the black cocks. In all innocence, I asked my husband if it was true that blacks had bigger cocks. He said that throughout his football career, in college and two years in the pros, his black teammates were more generously endowed than his white teammates.
Not much else was said about this for a few weeks. Then I went to my husband’s office to look up some job hot lines on his computer. Tired of waiting for him to get out of a meeting, I closed his office door and looked up some adult Web sites. Scrolling down a list of sites, I noticed an interracial one. Curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked on the site. Within minutes I was viewing dozens of pictures of beautiful white girls sucking, stroking and fucking very large black cocks. For the first time I got a little excited at the thought of stroking or sucking on one of these supersize cocks.
I was really wet when my husband walked in. He saw the site I was looking at and smiled. “I knew it would only be a matter of time before you got curious,” he said. “Does that turn you on?”
I couldn’t lie. “Honestly,” I said, “it never entered my mind till a few weeks ago. But now I find myself looking at black men in a totally different way.”
As he kissed me, he reached under my skirt and noticed how wet I was through my thong. I smiled and brushed my hand against his cock and felt it growing harder. Needless to say, that night we had some of our kinkiest sex ever. The whole time I fantasized that my husband’s good-size cock was one of those sexy black supercocks I had seen. I let him know this by saying, “Fuck me with that big black cock, baby.” That seemed to really send him over the edge, as he and I came together.
This scene replayed itself over and over when we made love. We even progressed to talking openly about me acting out this fantasy. My husband said he wouldn’t feel threatened because he knew I would never fall in love and leave him for someone else. He said that if it was just for a kinky sexual “fix,” then he could handle it and would actually encourage it.
I still never took it much further than that, till just recently. I was working out in a club located on the first floor of the building my husband works in. Sometimes he joins me, but lately he hasn’t had the time. I was using a cable machine when a couple of tall (over six-five), handsome black men asked me if they could share the machine with me.
I thought I recognized one of them as a member of the local professional basketball team. He confirmed it, and introduced himself. (I’ll call him Stew.) The fellow with him also introduced himself (I’ll call him Mark). He was the team’s strength and conditioning specialist. As they worked in with me, Stew asked if I was one of the dancers on the team’s dance squad. I said I was flattered, but I’m just a fitness junkie. The men continued to joke around with me and flirt, making me feel at ease as well as sexy.
That night I told my husband about this. He smiled and said, “It’s only a matter of time before you explore that side of your sexuality.”
Half-joking and half-serious, I replied, “Don’t worry, honey, I’d let you watch.” I was amazed how big and hard his cock got that night, and how hard he fucked me as I shared my fantasy of being “naughty” with my two new friends.
I now ran into Stew and Mark at least three times a week in the club. Each time they would tell me how sexy I was and how they were amazed at the “sexy white girl with a black girl’s ass,” as Stew put it. Finally, one Thursday as we were working out, they mentioned that the next afternoon they were going to skip their workout and enjoy happy hour at a downtown bar. They invited me to join them. I said I’d think about it.
That night I told my husband, and I thought he was going to fuck me to death. I must have come four times while sharing with him the wild and kinky turns the next evening might take.
The next afternoon I showed up at my husband’s office in a tight miniskirt and a tight top that showed off my big boobs. He confirmed that he still wanted me to go out, and just to relax and have fun. I told him where I’d be and invited him to come along later to watch the flirting.
He smiled and said, “Before you go, you need to take off your thong. Naughty girls never wear panties.” I hesitated, and before I knew what he was doing, he had his hands up my skirt, took off my panties and threw them in his waste-basket. That made me horny as hell, not to mention wet.
When I got to the bar, as I got out of my car, I noticed my wedding ring. I never wear my ring while I’m lifting, so Stew and Mark probably never knew I was married. Who knows why, but I slipped my ring off and put it in my purse.
The bar was a nice place full of downtown professionals, state employees, attorneys and financial types. I finally found Stew and Mark, sitting at the corner of the bar with mixed drinks in front of them. They stood to greet me. I must admit I was flattered that they looked so damn nice. Not only were they very handsome men, but their broad shoulders, lean features, well-muscled bodies and expensive clothes excited me. It flattered me that they wanted me to join them.
We ordered a new round of drinks and talked about everything from sports to fitness to jobs. After a few rounds, the conversation even extended to sex. Since Stew is a current player about my age, they had a lot of funny stories of romance on the road in professional basketball. They tried to get me to talk about my experiences, but nothing I could think of could compare.
It was then that I noticed my husband sitting at a table by himself across the bar. Judging from his full beer, he must have just gotten there. My heart began to race. I wasn’t sure how to act or what to do. I turned my attention back to my two friends, and suddenly I heard my husband’s voice right next to me saying, “Meg, is that you?”
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. What the hell was he d
oing? Was he mad? Jealous? I couldn’t think fast enough. I just sat with my mouth open.
He continued, “I haven’t seen you since college. How have you been?”
So, at least I knew he wasn’t mad. He was doing some sort of role-playing. I still couldn’t speak. He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. Before I could say anything, he stuck out his hand and introduced himself to Stew and Mark as Brad, an old college friend of mine. I was finally able to breathe and relax a little.
After that round, Stew and Mark excused themselves to go to the men’s room. I looked at Brad and with a smile said, “That was quick thinking.”
He said, “I noticed you weren’t wearing your ring, so I couldn’t say I was your husband.” I was feeling a bit uneasy. He held up his beer and said, “You know, Meg, everyone’s erotic fantasies can come true. You just have to let them.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. He continued, “All those stories we read in Penthouse Letters, and all the videos we’ve watched, all of that can happen to anybody. The trick is, you have to recognize the opportunity and either let it happen or not.”
He was calm and soothing while he spoke, as if he was trying to make me feel comfortable. I finally asked, “What are you suggesting?”
He looked deep in my eyes and said, “You can either tell your friends you’re leaving with your old college friend, or you can stay and let a fantasy come true. One choice will give you familiar results, while the other will be new, exciting and sexy.”
Damn him, I thought. Always so calm and logical. And always so right! Over his shoulder I saw Stew and Mark returning. I told Brad I was going to the ladies’ room. When I returned, he would know my intentions.
I didn’t know it at the time but found out later that while I was away Stew and Mark asked Brad a lot of questions about our “college relationship.” He said we were just casual partners who’d slept together a handful of times. He said I had mostly dated members of the basketball team. He also encouraged them by relating how hot he remembered me being in bed. He probably threw in a few wild stories for them to ponder.
While I was in the ladies’ room, I thought about what Brad had said. I could go home right now, and we would fantasize and have great sex together. Or I could explore a new avenue of my sexuality, which might lead to even wilder sex between Brad and me for some time to come.
I decided to see how far this fantasy would take us, and went back out to join the boys. After a few more drinks and some obvious flirting, I finally blurted out, “Where do you live, Brad? Maybe we can all continue the party there?”
Brad looked at me and smiled. He said, “Not far from here at all. I’ll give you directions.” He scribbled something on a napkin, and as he gave it to them said, “Give me a head start so I can clean up a little.”
I knew what he meant. He had to hide any photos of us together to make the whole thing believable. He walked out, and I stayed to finish my last sip with Stew and Mark. They talked me into leaving my car there, and we all left in Stew’s car.
I sat between the two men, reading the directions. Mark kissed my neck and told me how sexy I was. Stew had a hand on my bare leg while he drove. I was feeling very naughty and very sexy. We got to the house in a few minutes. I slid out of the car without thinking, and my short skirt rode up, not only exposing my pussy to Mark, but giving Stew a view of my round ass as well. I was glad Brad had left the garage door open. I would have hated to have the neighbors see my display or my two friends.
As we walked in the house, I noticed right away that some of our pictures were missing. Brad greeted us with a round of drinks, and we all stood in the den listening to music.
Stew excused himself to the rest room. As he left, Brad pulled me to him and began to sort of dance with me, very slow. He let his hands rub my ass and gently kissed my neck. My head began to spin. Before I knew it, Mark took Brad’s cue and got behind me and ran his hands gently up and down my sides and kissed the other side of my neck.
I couldn’t believe how turned on I got. Brad was right. The fantasy was there if I would just let it happen.
It wasn’t long before my skirt was up over my ass and I had one set of hands on my ass and another on my boobs. It felt so good to be spoiled like that. From there, I’m honestly not sure of the exact order of events. I know I was led upstairs to our guest room, where I was caressed and kissed and made to feel very desirable.
I finally got my bearings when I realized I was standing facing Brad and kissing him. I heard the sounds of belt buckles clinking and shoes being slid off. While I was still kissing Brad, a hand from behind guided my left hand back onto a large cock. While I stroked it, I felt Brad’s hand on my pussy. I was about to come when he turned me around gently to face Mark and invited me to suck his cock.
I felt a little awkward as I got on my knees and saw my first black cock. It wasn’t fully hard, but it was already longer and thicker than Brad’s. I couldn’t stop staring at it. I held it in my hand and marveled at how heavy and full it felt. Thoughts flashed through my mind like, “Why did you ever listen to Mom and Dad and not date blacks in high school and college?”
I was now face-to-face with what I had missed. I stretched my mouth around the head of it while both hands stroked the remainder of it. Within a couple of minutes it was fully hard. I couldn’t believe how big it was, or how turned on I was. It was as though I had been given a drug and all my senses were in a heightened state of arousal. I got so turned on sucking and stroking this huge cock that I knew I had to feel it in me.
I positioned myself on the bed and guided this wonderful cock silently into my wet pussy. I had totally forgotten everything going on around me. My entire focus was on the intense pleasure as this beautiful black cock filled my pussy. I came like I had never come before.
Brad wanted to slide his big cock in my mouth, and I wanted to suck it for him. I just had too much going on to concentrate on giving head. Soon Mark groaned. His cock sank deeper than ever as he shook and moved to the pulsing of his orgasm. Lying there dizzy with lust and satisfaction, I lost track of everything.
I felt the weight of someone next to me on the bed. I opened my eyes and saw Stew lying there smiling at me. I was so overwhelmed with lust that I had forgotten about him. I returned his smile, and he kissed me softly and caressed me with his long fingers. It wasn’t long before I was wild with lust again and wanted to suck his cock. When I slid down the length of the bed, I looked around the room and noticed Mark wasn’t there but Brad was standing at the foot of the bed with a huge hard-on.
I gave him a couple of strokes and sucked on the head. Then I removed the sheet that covered Stew’s cock. While holding my husband’s big boner in my left hand, I took Stew’s dick in my right hand. Still limp, it was quite a bit bigger than my husband’s hard-on!
As it grew to full size, it was even longer than Mark’s erection. I got excited just stroking it. Its dark skin looked so sexy in my white hand. It stretched from my fingertips down to well past my wrist, and my fingers didn’t come close to reaching around its thickness, which both amazed and excited me.
Stew lowered me onto my back and eased that wonderful cock in me, nice and slow. I looked down, and I can’t begin to describe how hot I got looking from Stew’s broad shoulders past his muscular chest down to his perfectly chiseled abs and then down to the most perfect cock any woman could ever dream of. When I had taken as much of it as I could, I had him stop. With my right hand I stroked the large portion of his cock still outside me. He fucked me deeper, and I soon was lost in a massive wave of orgasm. I was unaware of anything going on around me, or even that Stew too had come.
As I lay there I silently cursed myself for not having done this years earlier. I had never been so totally satisfied. Before the night was over, I fucked Mark and Stew again. I never thought a man’s race would determine the size of his penis, but these two made a believer out of me.
Later that morning they dro
ve me back to my car. We were all too tired to fool around any more. They both kissed me gently, said good-bye and left.
When I got home, Brad was lying in bed with a massive hard-on. It was then that I realized that I had ignored him. I got in bed next to him and began to stroke his cock while I told him I loved him and was sorry for not fucking him the night before.
He smiled and said, “I can’t blame you. You were having such a wonderful experience, I got my satisfaction from watching you receive yours.” I continued to stroke him while I told him what I thought of my black lovers. He exploded, and we both fell right to sleep.
Since that time, I have had almost daily encounters with my two “friends.” Most of the time it’s just one of them or the other, although once every three weeks or so all three of us get together. I love my husband deeply and would never dream of leaving him. We make love or simply “fuck” on almost a daily basis too. He has always encouraged me to expand my sexuality to its fullest, and now I’m glad I finally listened to him.
I have to confess, I’m hooked on those huge black cocks. Is it the contrast in color? Or the feeling of going against the taboo I was raised with? Or the fact that it’s just pure “no strings” fucking? Is it the huge size? I think it’s all of the above. I know, and so does Brad, that I’ll never go without black cock again. It’s like a powerful drug, and I will constantly need my fix.—Name and address withheld
SHE’S FIGURED OUT WHAT CAUSED THE LOVELY
CHANGE IN HER HUSBAND’S LOVING
Lately my husband has been very horny. To my delight, he’s become attentive to my needs in bed. What had been a once-a-month wham-bam has turned into an everyday marathon.
Or course this made me wonder what was going on. One day, while looking through some old papers, I came across a stack of issues of Penthouse Letters. Paging through them, I noticed that certain letters were dog-eared—all of them about “wife-watching.” I took two magazines and settled back to read them.
Letters to Penthouse XVIII Page 6
