Letters to Penthouse XXXIV (8 page)

Amy just smiled and slid her right hand very slowly down the front of her panties. It was easy to see the movement of her
fingers through the wet fabric as they slid down over her slit, and then probed her love hole. She bit her lower lip, again
concentrating on her sensations as her fingers tweaked her clit. I hoped the microphone on the camera was picking up the sound
of her rapid breathing.

After a few minutes she brought her other hand into play as well, rubbing the outside of her pussy lips with her left hand
while she finger-fucked herself with the right. I could now hear the squishy sound of her love juices as she squeezed her
thighs together, trapping her hands between her legs. Then she let out a very loud groan and her body shuddered in an intense
orgasm. When her spasms finally subsided, she pulled her hands out and offered them to Jerry and Sam, who proceeded to suck
her juices from her fingers.

Amy was hot as hell now. She was drunk and horny and obviously set on getting laid. Sam, of course, would be the one to take
her virginity. He and Jerry both stripped quickly.

Amy’s eyes went from one hard dick to another appreciatively. “Very nice,” she murmured, a little breathlessly. She reached
out and grabbed Sam’s cock with her left hand, reaching for his balls with her right. She gently massaged and tugged on them
as she slowly pumped his shaft.

“Oh, fuck!” he groaned. “Let me inside, baby, please. It won’t take long.”

Amy smiled at him, then lowered the back of the deck chair and lay down. Sam reached for her panties and very slowly pulled
them down and off. Her bush was thick and black. As she spread her legs, we stared at her beautiful damp pussy. The lips were
swollen. Sam lay between her legs and slid his cock inside. He only made it halfway in before he hit her hymen. Stopping only
briefly, he pushed hard. Amy cried out, but clutched at his bare ass with her hands to press him in farther.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“God, yes!” she moaned. “Don’t stop!”

Sam began furiously pumping in and out of her. I moved around the two of them with the camera to capture the best angle. Sam
was right—It didn’t take him very long to empty his balls into his girlfriend’s pussy.

Amy hadn’t come yet, so when Sam got up, Jerry took his place. His cock was longer and thicker. As he slid into her come-filled
cunt, she moaned again. Jerry pumped hard, lifting her ass up with each thrust. As she approached climax, she wrapped her
legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Suddenly she shrieked with pleasure as she exploded in her second orgasm
of the night. Jerry came immediately after she did, groaning as his cock squirted hot come in a long series of spasms.

It was my turn now. I handed the camera to Sam and was out of my clothes in seconds, waving the biggest hard-on I’d ever owned.
Instead of lying between Amy’s legs, I moved to her head. I ran the tip of my cock over her mouth, spreading my precome onto
her lips before she opened them and let me in. Her tongue worked on the underside of my shaft. I’d had blowjobs before, but
nothing like this. Her hands went to my ass and pulled me in deeper, until her nose was buried in my pubic hair and my balls
pressed against her chin. She continued to work my cock with surprising expertise. As my orgasm approached I gripped her head
and began fucking her face, and after less than a minute I released a long stream of come, filling her mouth. She couldn’t
swallow fast enough, and some of my jism dribbled down her chin. She didn’t bother to wipe it off.

When I looked up I saw that Sam was still filming the action. I moved aside to allow him to focus on Amy’s come-filled smile.
After a minute he slowly moved the camera down over her body. When he pointed it at her hairy triangle, she spread her legs
obligingly, and he zoomed in on her pussy, from which a stream of come was dribbling onto the deck chair.

Since that day, Sam has told me that he and Amy now fuck every day. I’m glad he’s finally getting some steady pussy. As for
me, I keep myself satisfied by jerking off to my hot tape of Amy’s birthday party.

—
J.F., Jersey City, New Jersey
     

My husband crept into the bathroom while I was shaving my legs, his camcorder pointing my way, trying to film as much as he
could before I saw him. Since I was about to step into the shower when I finished what I was doing, I was naked. I had my
foot propped up on a small padded stool. As I looked up and spied Don, the camera was following the path of the razor up my
leg. He then zoomed in between them. With one leg raised, my black pubic hair was visible, as was the opening of my cunt.
He couldn’t have planned a better voyeur situation.

Don was naked, too, and his massive dick was hard, pointing up at the bathroom ceiling like a stalagmite. My husband can be
irritating at times, but he has the most talented tongue of any lover I’ve ever had, and his cock is really impressive, especially
when it is rock hard and ready for action.

I pretended to be annoyed at his intrusion, but I couldn’t help teasing him by gliding the razor up my inner thigh, spreading
my legs farther apart. The drops of precome at the tip of his cock showed that he appreciated it.

Don continued to film me for the next three or four minutes, capturing as much of my pussy as he could. When I was done I
turned on the shower and stepped in. Our shower doors are clear glass, which gave him and his camera a perfect view.

Knowing it would drive my husband crazy, I took extra time washing my 36D breasts and thick black bush. The showerhead is
removable, so when I was through washing myself I held it in my right hand and pointed it between my legs for a little fun.
As the water massaged my swollen lips I spread my legs as wide as I could. Even over the shower noise, I could hear Don groan.
I used my hand to open my pussy, allowing the water to spray hard against my clit. I do this often, but this was the first
time I’d done it while being filmed.

Teasing Don was fun and the water felt sensual, but what pushed me toward orgasm was my awareness of the camera recording
my every move. My masturbation was being captured on a digital file that Don could do anything he wanted with. I thought I
would die of embarrassment if he ever showed anyone, but still, the thought that he just might do so was a complete turn-on.
He was a man who thought with his dick, and when a dick takes over, its owner is likely to do anything. Like share nude video
pictures of his wife with his colleagues. Or even put them out over the Internet. That thought sent me over the edge, and
I squealed loudly as my body spasmed repeatedly.

“Hey, what about me?” Don said.

“Nobody’s stopping you from joining me,” I told him.

Don set the camera down on the bathroom counter nonchalantly, but it pointed at the shower. I could see the little red light
still burning bright, and I knew it was still filming. As Don stepped in and closed the glass door behind him, I got down
on my knees and did what he enjoys the most. Pretending I was holding a massive popsicle, I slowly licked up and down his
shaft. When his groans grew louder, I moved lower and tickled his balls with my tongue before drawing them into my mouth,
all the time slowly stroking his shaft with my right hand. He was hot as hell from watching me, and he sprayed a thick stream
of warm come over my neck and shoulders within a few minutes.

Knowing the camera was capturing my every move, I finished the session by slipping his cock in my mouth and sucking it dry.
Feeling completely nasty, I winked at the camera before releasing him.

Since then I keep thinking about that tape. Don says he is keeping it safe and private, but I wonder. I suspect that strange
men all over the world are now watching me bringing myself off and then sucking my husband’s cock. Oh, God, why does that
make me so hot?

—
S.N., Lubbock, Texas
     

I have been married to Carrie now for just over 15 years, and I could not be happier. We met during our first year in college
and got married as soon as we graduated. She is now a regional manager for a women’s clothing store chain, and I work for
an advertising firm. Our sex life has always been great, and until last month we have always had a monogamous but fulfilling
relationship.

Our favorite pastime, outside of the bedroom, is working out at the gym. I’m six-feet-two inches tall, 180 pounds, with an
athletic build. Carrie is five-feet-five, 115 pounds, with large tits and a very sculpted body. She works hard to keep that
body in good shape and doesn’t mind showing it off. She loves to wear very skimpy bike shorts with a sports bra to the gym.
Most men might be bothered by the amount of attention she gets, but I find it a turn-on to see her drive the guys crazy.

Art and Paula are a couple we met at the gym. They are in their early 20s and have been dating for about a year. They both
work out six days a week, and their bodies show it. Art is just under six-feet tall, with a chest and arms twice my size.
Paula is about an inch shorter than my wife, and her tits are slightly smaller, but still incredible-looking. She also loves
to dress for show when she works out, but I’m not complaining.

Up until about a month ago we had only spent time with Art and Paula while working out, so it was a surprise when Art invited
us to go out with them for his birthday. I could tell by the way Art looked at Carrie’s body that he had the hots for her,
so maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised after all.

On the night of Art’s birthday we had arranged to meet at his house and go on from there. When we got there we walked up on
the porch and happened to peek into the window before knocking. Paula was already there, and they had started the party without
us. Art was in a chair, and Paula was kneeling in front of him, giving him a birthday blowjob. We tried to get a better view,
but all we could see was Paula’s head bobbing up and down in Art’s lap. By the expression on Art’s face, it was apparent that
his birthday was about to start out with a bang.

I knew Art would be pissed, but we decided to knock rather than stand on the porch waiting for them to finish. When Art answered
the door he looked my wife up and down like a lion in heat, although the bulge in his pants was more reminiscent of a horse.
It was pretty obvious that he wasn’t happy about not having gotten off, but he made the best of it and invited us in.

The four of us sat around for a while, drinking and talking. After several drinks, my wife reminded us that if we intended
to go out somewhere for Art’s birthday we had better do it soon, as it was getting late and we were all getting pretty wasted.
Paula then suggested that we all just stay where we were, since none of us were in any shape to drive. Art then declared that
since it was his birthday, he got to decide what we would do. With that he pulled out a game of Twister, and declared that
we would play a variation of that game, called Strip Twister. It was just like the regular game, he explained—each person
spinning a dial and placing himself in a weird position according to the resulting instruction, until one of the players fell
down—except that each time a player lost he or she had to remove an article of clothing. The last person with any clothes
on would be the winner.

We all stared at him like he was crazy. Even Paula seemed surprised. She told as that she and Art had played this once, but
alone, not with another couple. Carrie was highly dubious at first, but as she absorbed the idea I could see that it was getting
to her, and of course the liquor helped. She asked me what I thought, and I said that if she wanted to do it, it was okay
with me. Actually I was getting highly excited by the idea of seeing Paula naked. Finally Carrie agreed to participate—seeing
that it was Art’s birthday and all. The game went on for about an hour. At first it was hard to get people to fall without
pushing them off balance, but as the game went on and the drinking continued, we started falling much faster. Art was the
first one to lose. The first piece of clothing he took off was his jeans. My wife gasped when she saw that he had no underwear
on. Evidently he had not had time to put on his shorts when we had interrupted him and Paula earlier. His dick looked as muscular
as the rest of him; it was long and thick and hard as a rock. Art was looking straight at Carrie, obviously trying to gauge
her reaction. Unfazed, she just grinned back at him and said, “Down, boy. That thing looks hungry.”