Letters to Penthouse XIII (39 page)

We petted and kissed each other afterward. When she noticed that it had gotten dark outside my window, she said she had to go, because she had a plane to catch the next morning. As she got dressed, I asked when I would see her again. She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe next week, maybe never.”

I couldn’t believe how cruel she was being, after what we had just done to each other. “Could I have your number?” I asked, trying not to sound too hurt—or too desperate.

She looked at me as if I were being silly. She shrugged. “Give me something to write with.” She scribbled something, kissed me, and rushed away without asking for my own number, leaving me naked except for my ripped black panties.

The number she had given me turned out to be a disconnected line. I never saw her again. The photo of her that I had taken came out looking so good that the editor used it on the cover. It did not relate to anything inside the magazine, but he thought it was artistic enough to work on its own merits.

It had been a long time since I last looked at that picture of Monique. A framed copy had hung on my bedroom wall for awhile, even though seeing it always made me feel a little melancholy.

Eventually I took it down.

But when I saw that girl in a lookalike pose at the magazine stand, and felt the huge rush of memories that cover brought back, I knew I would be digging out Monique’s picture as soon as I got home. After I did a little shopping, that is.

That night I took a long, candlelit bath. After I dried off I opened the bag of purchases I had made that afternoon.

I stepped into a pair of crotchless black panties, to remind me of the pair Monique had torn. I rolled two leopard-print stockings up my legs, and pulled on two matching gloves that reached above my elbows. They were like the blouse Monique had worn, the one that fit her pretty breasts so snugly.

I put a copy of the magazine with Monique’s picture on it on my bedspread. I lay back against the pillows and stared at sweet, delicious Monique. I could taste her pussy when I rubbed my own. I could feel her mouth on my tits when I tugged and twisted my nipples. I called her name when I slipped my little finger up my asshole and thumbed my clit at the same time. Monique, Monique.

I rocked the bed when I came. My thighs were wet with my juice down to the tops of my stockings. My nipples felt alive and electric. I looked at the magazine and played with myself some more, rubbing my gloved fingers over my breasts, massaging my pussy, caressing my clit. I kept indulging myself that way until I came again, and yet again. I finally fell into an exhausted sleep, and dreamed of my pretty French former lover the rest of the night.

I am writing this letter in the hope that Monique, wherever she is and whoever she might be with, will get in touch with me. I love you, my darling one, even though we only had one night together. I want to see you again, and be with you, and make love with you.

Please get in touch with me by writing to this magazine. Don’t make me go on fantasizing to your picture. All is forgiven,
ma cherie.
All is forgiven.—
L.J., New York, New York

TWO HORNY HIGH-ROLLERS GO TO VEGAS AND SAY, “LICK ME A LADY TONIGHT”

I thought it was pretty great when my boyfriend Donnie and I won a trip to Vegas in a radio station contest. Having our plane tickets paid for and getting a thousand bucks in spending money was like a dream come true. I had no way of knowing that another of my fantasies was going to be fulfilled during that trip, too.

At the airport we saw some men handing out fliers. Donnie took one. The words “New in Town?” were printed on the outside. Unfolded, the sheet showed a full-color, incredibly explicit photo of a blonde girl on a bed.

She was dressed only in black stockings, a black garter belt and black high heels. She was lying back against red satin pillows. Her hands were behind her head, and her knees were pulled up and spread. She was showing off everything she had, and what she had was pretty impressive.

Printed at the bottom of the picture was the name “Lorraine” and a phone number, along with the words “I will come to your room tonight!”

Both Donnie and I were surprised at how brazen the ad was. The back of the sheet said something about lap dances, but it was pretty obvious what really was being offered for sale.

Looking at the flier, I wondered what being in Lorraine’s line of work would be like. No matter how much they might deny it, every girl fantasizes at one time or another about being a hooker. Knowing that a man wants you so much he is willing to pay for your pussy has to be an incredibly powerful feeling.

Donnie was staring just a little too intently at the naked Lorraine. “Don’t be greedy,” I said, yanking the flier away from him. “You’ve already got a girl coming to your room.”

On the cab ride to our hotel we saw other men on the sidewalks handing out similar-looking fliers. Apparently there was a booming business in the “room service” industry. Donnie laughed when I pointed out a guy who was looking at one of the fliers while adjusting the front of his pants, obviously rearranging his stiffening prick.

“Do you ever have that problem?” I asked.

“Why don’t you tell me,” Donnie said. He put my hand on the front of his pants.

I made sure our driver wasn’t looking, then I ran my palm up and down. I could feel Donnie’s dick growing. Both of us were charged up and horny.

Donnie reached under my short skirt to finger my pussy through my cotton panties while I stroked his cock. I noticed the cab driver looking at us in the rearview mirror. He quickly looked away when our eyes met.

Donnie wormed a finger inside the leghole of my panties. He pushed it between my pussy lips. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

I was about to take Donnie’s dick out and blow him when the cab turned into the crescent driveway of our hotel. We managed to keep our clothes on until we got to our room. It had a tub built for two, with complimentary bubble bath. We couldn’t resist climbing in together and getting wet and wild.

Donnie was all over me, rubbing my pussy and sucking my tits while the tub filled up around us. I got up on the rounded edge and spread my legs. “Eat me a little before you fuck me,” I told him, holding my cunt lips apart with my fingers.

Donnie clamped his mouth on my crotch. His tongue moved all around my clit. It felt great. I imagined that he was a stranger, and that I was a hooker like Lorraine who had come to his room.

The fantasy made me get even hotter.

”Treat me like a high-priced whore,” I whispered to Donnie. “Tell me what you want, anything, and I’ll do it. I want to be your rented slut tonight.”

I knew Donnie was excited by the idea. “Play with your big tits,” he said. “Let me see you finger your nipples for me.”

I did as I was told. I took each of my nipples between thumb and forefinger and tugged on them, feeling them get harder.

“Now suck your tits, baby,” Donnie said. “I want to watch.” I put my hand under my right breast and pushed it toward my mouth. I swirled the tip of my tongue all over my distended nipple, then sucked it. Donnie went back to eating my pussy then, really going at it. I felt myself start to climax.

“Oh, oh, OHHHH!” I groaned. I felt my pussy flooding Donnie’s mouth with my juice. I wondered if hookers came this hard with their clients, and how many times a night they climaxed. God, I wanted to be a whore. I wanted to be a dirty slut who would spread her legs for any man who was willing to pay her price.

“I’ve got to fuck you now,” Donnie said, getting out of the tub and pushing me backward onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. Water went everywhere. We didn’t care.

“Call me Lorraine,” I said, running my hands up and down his strong arms. “You know, like the girl in the picture. Like the whore.”

He must have been able to tell from the look in my eyes that I wasn’t kidding, and that I didn’t want him to make any jokes. “Okay, Lorraine,” he said. He worked two fingers in and out of my cunt, spreading me open, getting me ready for his dick. “I want to fuck your sweet, tight pussy right now. What do you think of that, Lorraine?”

“Do it,” I said. “Stick your dick in me.”

He got between my legs. I grabbed his prick and guided its bulging head between my cuntlips. I was so juicy that he slid his cock all the way inside my body with one thrust.

“Wiggle your ass around, Lorraine. Give me my money’s worth. You know what to do. You’re a pro, aren’t you?”

I squirmed on the tile floor, pushing my crotch against his, glad that he was getting into the spirit of things. “Is that the way you like it?” I said, pretending it was our first fuck. “Do you like a nasty girl who moves around a lot?”

“Oh, yeah. You definitely know how to fuck. I’ll bet you’re the highest-priced whore in Vegas. How many guys have you fucked this week? You can’t even remember, can you?”

“Dozens,” I moaned, imagining a roomful of hard, throbbing cocks, all of them wanting to fuck me. “God, your dick feels good in my pussy. So fucking good.”

“You know any hooker tricks, Lorraine? Anything the nasty girls down on the street corners have taught you?” Donnie was pounding me so hard that I knew he was on the verge of coming.

“Here’s one,” I said. As he watched, I slipped my middle finger all the way into my mouth, getting it completely wet. Then I reached behind Donnie and eased that finger deep into his asshole.

“FUCK!” he said, scrunching, his face up. I could feel his dick jumping inside me as he came, shooting his white cream deep in my cunt. He stayed on top after he finished, kissing me and sucking my tits. When his cock slipped out, I stroked it and sucked it until it got hard all over again.

Our second fuck was just as hot as the first Donnie pulled out when he was ready to come. “Eat my come,” he said, putting his dick near my face. “Swallow it down, like a good hooker.”

I took his prick in my mouth and sucked it. His come spurted down my throat like slippery oysters. I kept licking and sucking after he finished.

As we dressed to go down to the casino, I asked Donnie to do me a favor. “Keep treating me like I’m Lorraine tonight,” I said. “Call me by her name.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

I wore my trashiest outfit, a red satin minidress with a hem so high you could see the crotch of my panties when I leaned over the craps table. I told Donnie to finger me between the legs, so everyone could see. He was happy to comply.

I noticed a lot of men staring at my body. A lot of women were casting glances my way, too.

They looked pissed off.

At the roulette table, one girl was glancing more at Donnie than at me. She had blonde bangs and a baby face, but the body stuffed into her pullover blouse and tight jeans was all woman. She eased up on Donnie’s other side. The little bitch was definitely interested in him.

I was about to tell her to find her own man. Then I realized why she was so unconcerned about my presence. She didn’t think I was Donnie’s girlfriend. She thought I was his whore.

She might have been a hooker herself, but I had the feeling she wasn’t. She seemed to be nothing more than a shitty girl who was on the prowl and hoping to get laid. Donnie is a damned good-looking guy, so it was no wonder she had set her sights on him.

Donnie noticed her intentions. He told me, “I think we better find another table, before you start a cat-fight with this chick.”

I looked him right in the eye. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, loud enough for the girl to hear. “If you want her to join us, it’s up to you. So long as I still get paid.”

Donnie looked like a kid on Christmas morning. I knew he would go for the idea of a three-way. God knows he had talked about it often enough in the past.

“Shit, baby, that’s great,” he said. He turned to the stranger. “How about it, honey? You want to go upstairs and have some fun?”

The girl looked at me and pouted. “Does she have to come with us?”

I couldn’t believe what Donnie said next—but I stayed in character and tried not to react.

“Lorraine will be coming along,” Donnie said, “but she’ll just watch. Unless you decide you want her to join in, that is.”

Part of me wanted to scream. Another part, though, was turned on. Forcing myself to watch Donnie fuck another girl without acting jealous would be an all-new experience.

We went to our room. The girl told us her name was Susie. “Both of you strip,” Donnie told us.

“You’re pretty wild,” Susie said, putting her arms around Donnie and kissing him. “I like that.”

I watched him pull her top over her head while I peeled off my minidress. Susie reached between her shoulderblades and unsnapped her bra. I noted with pride that her tits were not as big as mine. Donnie unfastened her jeans. Susie sat on the edge of the bed so he could tug her pants down her legs. The little bitch wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy was completely shaved. She had done a good job, too.

Sitting on the bed, Susie undid Donnie’s slacks. She pulled them and his boxers down. Donnie’s cock was hard. She put her mouth over it and bobbed her head up and down, taking about half its length.

Donnie looked over at me. I was in a chair with my legs spread, rubbing my mound and licking my lips. That was not entirely for show. To my surprise, I really was getting turned on watching Donnie with another girl.

“I sure hope you like eating pussy,” Susie said, scooting back onto the bed and opening her legs. “I’m dying to feel your tongue in my cunt.”

I watched Donnie hold the lips of her smooth-shaven slit apart. She was very wet and pink. I watched my boyfriend lean over and put his mouth on another girl’s snatch. From the way his jaw muscles started working, I could tell he was giving her one hell of a good tonguing.

I couldn’t resist making myself part of the action. “Eat her pussy good, baby,” I said from my chair. “Just the way you ate mine this afternoon.”

Susie looked over at me with a grin. “Oh, he’s doing a good job, all right.” She pulled her knees up some more, tilting her crotch higher. She asked Donnie, “How about if you lick my asshole a little? I keep it nice and clean. Go ahead and see.”