Letters to Penthouse XIV (16 page)

It was a Thursday evening when we arrived at George’s huge seashore home. There we met his dad, Roger, a six-foot-five-inch muscular hunk, and Roger’s equally knockout girlfriend, June. We were all tired from twelve hours of driving, so George showed Helen and me to our room, and he and Carol retired to his room down the hall.

I soon found out that our bedroom was directly above the master bedroom. I was awakened around midnight by loud moans and screams of pleasure coming from the room below. I heard June moaning and begging Roger to “put it in.” When he did, she really started groaning and screaming, crying out, “You’re so big! I’m coming! You’re so big! Please come inside me!” After about forty minutes of this, he evidently
did
come inside her. She was moaning, “Thank you, thank you!”

The sounds were so exciting that I fingered myself to an orgasm before going back to sleep. But then I was awakened again by June’s now-familiar moans. She was begging Roger to let her suck him. She kept saying, “I want you to come in my mouth!” Then there was muffled moaning for about twenty minutes. As I pictured him fucking her mouth, I got so hot, I finger-fucked my pussy almost to the point of another orgasm.

After that, he must have started eating her. She screamed and cried and begged for him to fuck her with his big cock. My trusty finger brought me to a convulsive orgasm when he came again. Then they finally went to sleep, and I did too, wondering just how big Roger’s cock might be.

The next morning I was sitting on the pool deck reading the paper when Roger came back from a run. He was a huge man. I asked him his chest size, and he said it was fifty-eight inches; his waist was only thirty-eight. He also had the largest arms, the largest legs and the largest bulge in his crotch that I had ever seen. There was no fat on him, either, just one hundred percent man.

He sat down, and we started talking about all kinds of things. I found out that his brain was as large as the rest of him. I was so awestruck, I did not realize that my silk robe had fallen slightly open, exposing most of my breasts. To be honest, the fire in my cunt was so hot that I wanted to rip those running shorts off him and bury that bulge in my pussy. I stayed in a trance until the others showed up and joined us.

The rest of that Friday was fun. Helen, Carol, George and I played on the beach all day and were waited on by Roger’s maid and butler. That night we all went out dancing till about two in the morning, when the bar closed. We arrived home the same time as Roger and June, and we all went to bed. Soon I was again awakened by the moans and screams from downstairs. My cunt was on fire, and I fingered myself to the queen of orgasms before I got to sleep.

On Saturday morning I was by the pool again when Roger came back from running. When he spoke to me I was trembling inside but somehow stayed calm. He soon left to work out down at the gym he owned.

Around noon Carol, Helen, George and I went swimming in the pool. June joined us for a while, then left to go to the beauty salon. She had a fine, sexy body, but even more than her body, I envied her her nights with Roger!

When Roger came back from his gym, he joined us by the pool, entering the water like an Olympic diver. He challenged George and Carol to a “chicken fight.” He carried first Helen and then me on his shoulders while George carried Carol.

I nearly fainted when Roger put me on his shoulders. Just to feel those strong arms and to sit on those huge shoulders was almost orgasmic. George and Carol didn’t have a chance against Roger, no matter who he was carrying.

That night we went out, and all Helen could talk about was what a hunk Roger was. When we got home and went to bed, I told Helen to stay up for a while and listen. Around three in the morning the moans and screams were coming up in full force. I had my hand under the covers rubbing my clit, and when I looked her way, I saw that Helen was rubbing hers too.

The next day June had to leave for her job as a flight attendant. Roger took her to the airport, and when he came back, we all went to his gym. Helen and I were awestruck at how much bigger Roger was than anyone else there. When he started lifting weights, I practically came in my pants.

That night George, Carol, Helen and I went out to the local college bar, and we all got smashed. We were so high that around one in the morning we had to call Roger to come pick us up. He took us home and put us all to bed. He put George in his own bed, but put Carol in mine. He said I could sleep in his room, and he would sleep on the sofa.

I got into his bed, but after a while I felt like I wanted company—specifically Roger’s. So I put on a robe and went into the den, where he was sleeping in just a pair of thin running shorts. I went to him quietly and started to blow hot breath on his cock through his shorts. The shock of my life came when his cock kept growing and growing.

I had to see it, so I opened Roger’s shorts and found myself staring at a prick at least ten inches long and maybe three inches wide. It was huge!

I couldn’t stop myself. I had to suck on that cock. As I was struggling to get it in my mouth, Roger woke up. He looked at me in shock. I kept on sucking for all I was worth. He blew his load in about five minutes, and I swallowed as much come as I could. I kept right on sucking him, and in another five minutes he was hard again. Now I wanted him
inside
me.

I climbed up on his pole and started to work myself down on him. It took awhile, but I finally got all of him in me, and soon I was moaning and screaming just like June. When I reached orgasm, it was so powerful, I cried. Roger held me in his arms, and finally he came too. I was in love.

We woke up in each other’s arms the next morning, and we had another session, with me riding him again. I haven’t been so passionately aroused sexually for such a long time, and I got so loud, I was afraid I was waking everyone up. It was almost a relief when I finally came, after which Roger and I got up and showered together.

That afternoon I was lying by the pool when I felt Roger’s huge hands putting lotion on me. He turned me over and put it all over the exposed areas of my body. Then he asked if I would like to go see a movie that night, and I said we should ask Helen to go too. I knew she wanted Roger, and I thought she should have a chance.

So that night when we got home, I told Roger I was tired and went up to my room. After a while I heard him and Helen laughing and when I looked out my window I saw the two of them skinny-dipping in the pool. Soon after that I heard Helen moaning like crazy, and I knew she was getting what she wanted.

The next day we decided that we both loved Roger, so the two of us went to him and proposed a threeway marriage. Roger was happy to accept, and we have been together now for five years. Roger and I were married in America, and he and Helen were married in Haiti. Helen and I have graduated from college.

By the way, George and Carol got married too, and live down the street from us. So we are really one big happy family.—
O.F., La Jolla, California

A SMALL-TOWN COUPLE GOES TO THE BIG CITY AND SWINGS WITH “THE WELCOME CHAIN”

In appearance, Rachel and I are your average small-town churchgoing couple. But appearances are deceiving.

Before we got married, I sensed that Rachel was passionate and adventurous. Although we both grew up in small towns, my four years in the military had given me a chance to experience a lot of wild nightlife. After our honeymoon, I knew I was one lucky man. Although my wife wasn’t experienced at sex, she had a wild passion for it, in spite of her very conservative upbringing.

Rachel has red hair that looks almost bright orange, and green eyes that dance with mischievousness and laughter. She has a narrow waist and smooth, firm hips that I can’t keep my hands away from. Her legs are long and as shapely as a dancer’s. Her breasts are large and firm, with nipples that get hard as rocks when they are even the slightest bit excited.

Rachel took to sex like a duck to water. Her adventurous nature expressed itself fully in our sexual activities. Every time I introduced her to something new, she always found it exciting.

The first time I brought home
Penthouse Letters
, I wasn’t sure how she was going to react. I left it out where she would see it. The next day when I came home from work, she was sitting naked in our easy chair. Her feet were on the seat, her legs spread apart, and her cunt was wide open, its lips wet and shiny.

She looked at me with her eyes full of lust and said, “Get naked and fuck my brains out!”

In a flash I stripped, laid her on her back on the floor and sank my dick in her pussy. When I hit bottom, she started coming. I pounded her for about five minutes, then exploded. She reached climax with me.

As we lay together in the afterglow, she looked in my eyes and said, “God, I love fucking you.”

I really enjoy hearing her talk nasty, and she knows it. It also turns her on. I said, “Hmm, someone has been reading
Penthouse Letters
.”

“Yes, but how did you know?” she said, and we both laughed.

After that, she became as creative with our sex as I had been. At home she was always a tease, but outside the house she was always the perfect lady.

I started buying her sexy lingerie, and she would strut around in it at home. She looked great in black half-bras that show her nipples, matching thong panties, nylons and garters. I realized that she was an exhibitionist when I saw the pleasure she got out of showing off for me. The more she flashed me, the hotter she would get.

One time, while I admired her strutting around teasingly in only a half-bra, stockings and garters as she set the table for dinner, I thought about how many guys would die to be in my shoes. Suddenly I had an image of some guy pounding his dick in my wife, with her legs wrapped around him as she squealed in an earth-shattering orgasm.

My dick turned to steel. Rachel bent over, teasing me as she put things on the table. I stepped up behind her and said not to move. She giggled, but stayed bent over. I dropped my pants and shorts, taking only enough time to rub my dickhead against her clitoris and start her juices flowing before I drove it home. That image flashed in my mind again as, three humps later, I blew my load like a cannon.

After that, every time I read in
Penthouse Letters
about some guy’s wife screwing another man, I would imagine that it was my passionate wife screwing in sexual bliss. I was pretty sure that Rachel would also find this a compelling fantasy, but I also knew that we could never actually experience such a thing in our small town.

The corporate office of the company I work for is in a large metropolitan area, about a hundred and fifty miles from where we live. I make a trip there on business every other Friday. That’s where I was buying
Penthouse Letters
and Rachel’s naughty lingerie.

One of the guys I worked with in the main office was named Joe. He was single, and quite a ladies’ man. He had been in the same branch of the service as me, so we had a lot in common and felt at ease talking about anything.

Joe knew how conservative small towns are, and he would kid me about how boring things must be at home. From time to time he told me stories about his activities with the ladies, and I would tell him how great a lover my wife was. One day over lunch, I told him that Rachel looked as great as any of the women in the men’s magazines.

Joe just laughed, saying, “Man, you country boys sure have good imaginations.” I kept insisting that I was telling the truth.

Later that afternoon, Joe asked me to come to his office. He closed the door and asked me to sit down.

“Okay, country boy,” he said. “You have my curiosity aroused. I’ll make a bet with you.” He reached in his desk drawer and brought out a small shopping bag. “Have your wife put this on, and take some pictures of her. If she is anywhere near as good-looking as you claim, I’ll buy you lunch anywhere you want. If not, you do the same for me. What do you say?”

I grabbed the bag and told him he had a deal. Then I looked inside, and both my heart and my dick started pounding. In the bag were three mint-green silk triangles with strings attached.

I said, “Joe, I can’t have pictures of her wearing this developed in our town.” He laughed and said he knew of a place that would develop them.

At home that night Rachel asked if I had picked up anything interesting. I retrieved the bag and dumped the contents on the bed.

She looked at it and asked, “What is that?”

I told her I thought it was a bathing suit, and asked her to model it for me. Then I went in the living room and waited for the show.

When Rachel came in wearing the suit, I thought to myself, Joe, my boy, you are not going to believe your eyes! She looked fantastically sexy as she started teasing me and strutting her stuff. I quickly got the camera out and started taking pictures. Her poses swiftly progressed from sexy-bathing-suit shots to wide-open-beaver masturbation shots. That night we wore each other out.

Two weeks later, in his office, Joe handed me an envelope containing the developed pictures. “This is some kind of joke, right?” he said to me. “That can’t be your wife.”

I assured him that it was. Although the pictures were not professional-quality, I was proud of how sexy and hot Rachel looked. I could not believe how excited I felt as Joe drooled over each picture. Finally he said, “Matt, I owe you a meal. Why don’t I take you someplace where we can eat and get laid? Those pictures have me hornier than hell.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “I have more than I can handle at home.”

“In that case, let’s go to your house,” Joe said.

Even though I knew it was meant humorously, the implied suggestion caused my dick to swell. On every trip I made to the main office after that, Joe would ask how my wife was doing, and I would tell him that she just kept getting better and better.

On one trip I mentioned that I needed to do something special for Rachel, since our third anniversary was coming up. Joe suggested I bring her to the city and let her see what wild and wicked things happen there. I told him that maybe the city needed to experience some wild country life.