Penthouse (30 page)

—P. T., Rhode Island

Sundaes on Sunday

Every weekend my boyfriend Hank and I go out for hot-fudge sundaes—it’s his favorite dessert. One day I decided to give him a sundae he would never forget. I reserved a hotel room so we could have complete privacy, then headed for the grocery store. I bought whipped cream, cherries, chocolate syrup, and one banana. To get him to the room, I told him I wanted to get away for the weekend and he should meet me at the hotel.

I was already waiting in the room when he walked in. When he saw me his eyes bulged out and his penis started to do the same. There I was, lying spread-eagled, naked on the bed. I had put the whipped cream around my nipples and trailed it down to my juicy cunt, where I had sprayed some between my wet lips and inside my hole. I had also placed one maraschino cherry inside of my pussy, leaving the stem hanging out. I took the banana and started teasing my clit with it.

Hank had already started undressing, and his erection was growing even stronger. Then I put the banana in my mouth and started giving it a blowjob. Hank couldn’t handle it anymore. He jumped on the bed and plunged his face deep into my pussy. He licked and sucked up all of the sweets and soon found the cherry stem. He grabbed it with his teeth, pulled it out with slow force, and fed it to me. With incredible force he shoved his tongue deep inside of me and tongue-fucked me until I came with a huge orgasmic release.

Next Hank started to lick the cream off of my nipples—but I took control. I rolled him over and teased
his
nipples with my tongue until they became erect. At the same time, I was letting his balls slide back and forth between my fingers. I could tell he was ready for more—his penis was dying for attention. I took the can of whipped cream, leaned back, and sprayed it into my mouth. Without swallowing, I bent down and took his fully erect tool into my hungry mouth. He groaned with pleasure and begged for more. I was sucking hard and knew he would come any minute, but I wanted him to wait. I took the chocolate syrup and poured it all over him, retracing the lines with the whipped cream. I took a cherry, dipped it onto his chest, and fed it to him. Then I licked up every last drop as I lavishly stroked his penis. I wanted this to be the best orgasm of his life! I took the chocolate syrup and the whipped cream and filled my pulsating cunt. Then I made him put his hands behind his head and told him not to move. I straddled him—carefully so none of what was inside me would fall out—and eased myself onto his rock-hard dick. He let out a loud moan as he felt my warmth and wetness engulf him and my crotch grinding against his.

I wanted us to come together, but the intense pleasure was too much for me, and I couldn’t help but explode. By the time he was ready to erupt, though, I started to feel another orgasm coming on. We started moving together slowly, then faster, then all of a sudden he burst inside of me with full force, and I came seconds later. We both fell in exhaustion and I could still feel his sweet juices inside me. Nevertheless, it was the best sundae I ever had, and one that I don’t think he’ll soon forget.

—L. K., South Carolina

Heaven in a Jar

On the way to a weekend-long rock concert, my lover and I spotted a roadside shop in the country advertising “new honey.” Both being lovers of this sweet, sexual fluid, our mouths watered at the prospect of buying some on our way back home. Since we had a third passenger in the car, our obvious excitement had to be contained. We sucked and fucked throughout the weekend, but I knew that I was really saving the best for last. For three days I imagined what I would do with a fresh pot of country honey. I had teased myself into complete horniness, and was especially happy to hear that our passenger had found his own ride home! As we made our way back to the city, we eagerly pulled into the shop to buy the precious liquid.

Once we got back on the highway, I cracked open the sealed lid and swirled my finger into the thick, sticky substance, feeling the juices of my already hot pussy starting to flow. It coated my finger seductively and I slipped it into my lover’s mouth, who sucked it eagerly while he drove. Wearing a baggy, kimono-style pantsuit allowed me easy access to my aching cunt. I fingered myself slowly, a fresh stream of honey dripping down my clit to my hole. My lover was straining against the tights he’d borrowed from me for the long drive. I placed my hand on his throbbing cock and rubbed it firmly. It felt incredible beneath the soft, feminine material. We teased each other physically and verbally all the way, trying hard to stay in control of our senses due to the dangerous weekend traffic.

We finally arrived home, and it was almost as if we had forgotten our long, horny trip. In my mind I knew it was only a matter of time before I would have my real honey treat. We put our things away and fed the cat—the usual things people do when they’ve been away for days. All the while my honeypot was soaked and ready, and the honey jar was waiting on the table.

I found my lover on the bed making a phone call, and the heat was intense. I could not hold off. I pushed him back on the mattress, and our tongues danced in a hot, wet kiss. The teasing and the conversation on our journey home came flooding back. My button was so hard it ached. I got him on his hands and knees and told him to wait. I ran to the kitchen, came back with the jar of sticky liquid, and told him to stick his hard cock deep into the honey. It looked huge under the glass, encased in this thick ooze. I slowly pulled the jar down and watched his cock slowly emerge, dripping his bodily fluid, mixed with honey, back into the container. This was so erotic I repeated it twice, licking his honey-coated, smooth-shaven balls and cock clean each time.

He flipped me onto my back and poured the cool, smooth nectar down my steaming hole—what a contrast it made. He licked and sucked and nibbled my pussy until I exploded, filling his mouth with my own natural sweetness. Then I dipped his cock into the jar one last time and begged him to fuck my hot, tight cunt with all the sticky honey that coated his shaft. I stood up, and he entered me from behind, giving me a sensation that has to be one of a kind. Feeling my slick, slippery juices meeting with a very sticky hard-on brought me to another orgasm.

My lover wasn’t finished with me yet. He pulled his cock out of my heat and asked me to suck it, which I eagerly did. We repeated this a few times. I could taste my come and the honey together as my hungry mouth pumped anxiously on his now purple and ready shaft. When he finally erupted into my mouth, I had a heavenly taste sensation of three different flavors.

Every time I have my honey in the morning, I think of the honey I had that afternoon. I just can’t wait to have a friend over for tea with cock-flavored sweetener.

—D. V., Canada

Instructions for a Sunday Morning

Instead of going to church like we always do, my roommate, my boyfriend, and I went to the doughnut shop just up the street from where I attend college. We bought a dozen cream-filled eclairs: six vanilla, five Bavarian cream, and one mammoth chocolate-filled. We had them microwaved.

We sped back to the dorm room with the bounty. We had only just sneaked past the security guard— which was hard to do, considering how many dough-nuts were in our possession—when my roommate, Natalie, grabbed the chocolate eclair from the bag and bit off the end of it, licking the excess cream off her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. She handed the remainder to my boyfriend, John.

By this time, we had arrived back at the room. Before the door had even closed, John had unzipped his pants and pulled out his stiffy. He forced himself inside the eclair and moaned in ecstasy as he slid himself in and out of the tasty little pastry.

In the meantime, Natalie had pulled off all my clothes and pinned me to the bed, an eclair in each hand. I could feel her hot and wet against my leg. She pushed my feet and hands to the sides of the bed. I writhed in anticipation. She paused above me and bit off the end of the sugary snack and squeezed the filling inside my hungry pussy. She filled her own with the other eclair while we watched.

She began stroking, licking, and teasing my nipples as I struggled to do the same to her. Finally, I flipped her over and began to feast on her sweet filling, straddling her head. I felt her tongue begin to probe my own sugar factory.

The eclair had brought John to the explosion point. He cast it aside and leapt atop the writhing female flesh on the bed. He thrust himself urgently into my ass, moaning about how tight it was. “Oh baby, you’re better than any eclair,” he cried. “I do like chocolate filling best.”

I felt the tension in his loins, and suddenly he erupted inside of me in a hot, filling gush. He moaned and fell insensible to the floor. His shot of life flowed through me like an electrical spark, and I felt Natalie’s orgasm arriving beneath my pulsing tongue. We came together, exploding like overloaded transformers.

After a few minutes, we all sat up and ate the rest of the eclairs with coffee. We highly recommend this particular Sunday morning activity.

—A. W., Texas

Cherry Charge

It’s the Fourth of July and we’re having a heat wave. Our clothes are clinging to us like second skin. Every fan we own is on and blowing, yet nothing helps to keep us cool. I go for a tall, cold glass of iced tea and a cherry Popsicle. I sit back down and try to relax, but to no avail. My clothes are so sticky that I decide to strip. In an effort to keep cool, I continue to suck on my cherry Popsicle. After a few minutes pass, I get a small surprise. A couple of drops from the Popsicle fall on my breasts. What a great feeling. I start to get an idea.

All the while my husband is in taking a shower, trying to keep himself cool. When he finishes drying off, he comes out to a very cool scene. He sees me and my cherry Popsicle doing some very cool things together.

I rub the Popsicle on my nipples. Oh, what a feeling. I feel the coolness of the Popsicle working on my breasts. One problem: I am getting hot in between my legs. So I run the Popsicle down my body, leaving a cherry trail right down to my very hot box. I rub the tip of the Popsicle over my clit and go crazy. The heat wave must be getting to me by now. I slowly push the head of the ice pop into my pussy in an effort to cool down.

As you can imagine, it isn’t working very well. The cherry ice has become my newest obsession. I’m losing all control. At this point I have my eyes closed. I can see nothing but the heat wave. My cherry Popsicle has all my attention. I am pumping it in and out of my pussy at a slow and cooling rate. But after a few minutes of this, I open my eyes to a mind-shattering picture—my husband and his huge, rock-hard dick, standing right in front of me and my pussy. He is mesmerized by my cherry Popsicle, and all of my pussy juices mixing together. I tell him to get down on his knees. I make him suck off all of my juice from the Popsicle. And then I start all over again by reinserting the instrument into my hot, dripping pussy.

I make him fuck my brains out with the ice. Right after a cherry-blowing, mind-shattering orgasm, I make him feed me my come-covered snack as he goes down on me. He eats my pussy like it was the last meal on earth. He runs his tongue all over my clit, licking up every last drop of my cherry come, making me come all over again. After this second mind-shattering orgasm, he eats my pussy clean. Not leaving a single drop of come or Popsicle. Talk about Fourth of July fireworks!

—P. S., Pennsylvania

Strawberries and Cream à la Ray

I can’t remember what led to the experience, but the incredible combination of strawberries, whipped cream, and Ray will never be forgotten. He had planned the evening to include dinner out and dessert in. The champagne was chilled, the strawberries were cold and clean, the whipped cream waited by the bed in the hotel room. We sipped champagne as Ray slowly and tenderly massaged my feet and ankles, moving his hand up my legs until it rested just below the juncture with my pelvis. I was completely relaxed, my eyes shut, and I was hot and wet. The sound of whipped cream being sprayed enticed me to imagine the feeling of it against my skin. I could smell a strawberry as Ray’s mouth brought it close to my lips. As he put it between my lips and his tongue explored mine, I savored the sweet strawberry taste. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the sounds, smells, and touches.

The next strawberry must have been designed for its purpose. It fit the contours of my neck perfectly. Ray slid it down from my earlobe to the valley between my breasts, his tongue lightly tracing along the line of strawberry juice and whipped cream. My skin tingled all over. Then a feeling of unexplainable contentment overcame me as, feeding me the strawberry, he drew a warm, wet cloth across what had been its path, leaving no trace of the sweet, sticky juices.

I cried out as I felt a cool, soft texture circle first my right nipple, then the left. I opened my eyes and looked down to see a pink mixture of strawberry juice and whipped cream coating the dark circles around my aroused nipples. Ray’s tongue circled slowly, then he drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, until my breathing become shallow and my hips were rising off the bed. He moved to the other breast, and as he gave it the same treatment, I came. With the warm cloth sustaining my excitement, he removed all evidence of the juices. Using another strawberry as the brush, he painted a trail of whipped cream around my navel. His tongue followed, teasing, caressing, dipping inside.

As the final sweet strawberry was covered with whipped cream, I felt my own juices sliding slowly down my thighs. The sensation of the satiny cream as Ray slowly and softly slipped the strawberry between the lips of my moist pussy and against my clit cast me over the edge again. I couldn’t contain my cries of pleasure as he caressed and massaged and urged me on. I screamed louder and came harder as he continued to move the strawberry against my clit. Just when I was certain the intensity could go no higher, I felt myself soaring to heights never before reached, crying out without restraint and coming so hard that Ray thought the strawberry juice had been crushed from the fruit. He calmed me with his quiet voice and soft caresses, then sent me over the edge once more as he held me tight and slid his cock deep within me. If the lovemaking could have been even more heavenly, Ray achieved it by holding me through the night, giving completely and asking nothing in return.