Letters to Penthouse XXIX

OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES:

Erotica from Penthouse

More Erotica from Penthouse

Erotica from Penthouse III

Letters to Penthouse I

Letters to Penthouse II

Letters to Penthouse III

Letters to Penthouse IV

Letters to Penthouse V

Letters to Penthouse VI

Letters to Penthouse VII

Letters to Penthouse VIII

Letters to Penthouse IX

Letters to Penthouse X

Letters to Penthouse XI

Letters to Penthouse XII

Letters to Penthouse XIII

Letters to Penthouse XIV

Letters to Penthouse XV

Letters to Penthouse XVI

Letters to Penthouse XVII

Letters to Penthouse XVIII

Letters to Penthouse XIX

Letters to Penthouse XX

Letters to Penthouse XXI

Letters to Penthouse XXII

Letters to Penthouse XXIII

Letters to Penthouse XXIV

Letters to Penthouse XXV

Letters to Penthouse XXVI

Letters to Penthouse XXVII

Letters to Penthouse XXVIII

Penthouse Uncensored I

Penthouse Uncensored II

Penthouse Uncensored III

Penthouse Uncensored IV

Penthouse Uncensored V

Penthouse Variations

26 Nights: A Sexual Adventure

Penthouse: Naughty by Nature

Penthouse: Between the Sheets

Penthouse Erotic Video Guide

Admirer of Breasts Finds a Lovely Woman
Willing to Indulge His Every Fantasy

As a dancer I've had a chance to travel and meet a lot of people. That's how I met Frank, my husband. He had attended one of the programs I was in, and eventually talked me into going out with him. A year later we were married.

We've enjoyed a variety of lovemaking ideas, but recently I decided to surprise Frank with something different. I know how much he enjoys seeing me in my dance costumes, and I decided he should find out what it's like to wear one. For starters, I got out an old pink leotard and, using scissors, made some strategic adjustments.

The next Saturday night I led Frank into the bedroom and slowly stripped him, teasing every inch of his body. His cock was throbbing by the time I got to it, but I told him I had something special in mind. He laughed when I got out the leotard, but he stepped into it and let me pull it up.

I could tell the stretchy leotard was having the desired effect. I rubbed my hands over his Lycra-covered body and rubbed his cock through the formfitting material. Frank grabbed me, but I pulled away and told him to wait. I took off my clothes and laid him back on the bed, kissing him hard as I rubbed his cock some more. Then I reached down and manipulated his erection through the small opening I had made in the costume, so that his cock stood straight out.

I shifted positions and gently licked the head of his cock and then its shaft. I could hear him groaning as he slid two fingers into my wet pussy and began to fuck me with his hand. My teasing continued until he was about to come, and then I rearranged the leotard, tucking his cock back inside the tight material. Frank was thrusting his hips, enjoying the sensation.

Moving around again, I told him not to mess up his leotard or he'd have to wear dance costumes at least once a month for me. Then I rolled over on him and ground my hips into his as I kissed him hard. As we kissed, I reached down and started pinching his nipples through the fabric. I rolled off him and saw the big wet spot on the front of his costume that signaled he was about to come. Reminding him of his punishment for disobedience, I pulled out his aching member and lowered myself onto it, riding us both to orgasm in moments.

After he settled down I slid off and onto my back, pulling him down over me. I guided his mouth first to my nipples and then to the wet curls between my legs. As he licked me, I reminded him that his come was flavoring the taste he was enjoying. His agile tongue brought me to a series of climaxes within minutes.

The next weekend I introduced Frank to several new costumes that I brought home from the costumer's. He now has a classic tutu with a pink satin top and short, stiff net skirt, a long, flowing gown, and one very frilly satin version of a square-dance costume. By the time he tried on that last one, he couldn't control himself. The feel of all that satin and net and spandex drove him wild. Sex that night was fabulous!

Now, whenever I perform, I know Frank is out there not only watching me but enjoying the fantasy of what my costume must feel like. He knows he'll find out later, and I know that I'll love the results.

—Ms. D.A., Mississippi   

Leather-Loving Woman Is Sitting in the Lap of
Luxury with Her Hipster Stud

People often ask me about my leather couch. I mean, I guess it does seem a little out of place for a woman whose other furniture consists of milk crates and foam cushions, and who has takeout containers and ratty clothes scattered around her tiny apartment, to have such an expensive piece of furniture as a centerpiece. I try to explain that I scrimped and saved for a year to be able to afford this black beauty because I simply needed something luxurious in my life. Most people seem to find my explanation a little odd, but they accept it nonetheless.

But there's more to the story than meets the eye. As far back as I can remember, I have been drawn to leather—its appearance, its texture, its scent. My relationship with leather began as one of simple admiration, but it has built to the point where I can say I am somewhat obsessed with the material. To be blunt, it turns me on. Whether wrapped around the contours of a plush chair or those of a plush male butt, leather is just plain sexy. The sticky crinkle of new leather, the buttery soft caress of worn leather, the subtle, slightly bovine scent, the dull sheen—I love everything about it.

So, back to the couch, my own special haven. The real reason I bought it is because I love to masturbate while sprawled out naked on a leather couch, feeling the slick coolness against my back and ass in the winter, or the moist adhesiveness clinging to my damp body in the summer. I sleep on my couch every night, and the sensation of being surrounded by leather turns me on to no end. If I pick up a guy and bring him home, I always fuck him right there on the couch. Sometimes when I masturbate I'll even straddle one of the cushiony arms of the couch and slide my slippery pussy back and forth against the smooth leather until I come and spill my juices all down the sides. After these sessions, I always break out my soft cloth and leather cleaner and do a thorough polishing to keep my beautiful couch in perfect condition.

Let me tell you about a particularly hot fuck I had a few months ago. It was a disgustingly humid summer day, and the dirty, stifling city heat left me unable to do much else besides sit around naked on my couch and play with my pussy. After several hours of halfhearted stroking, I was downright horny, and I decided I needed a good stiff cock for an hour or two. So I peeled myself off the couch, poured myself into a skintight little dress that boosted my cleavage to obscene proportions, pinned up my long brown hair, and headed out to my local bar, which, thankfully, was air-conditioned.

Once inside, I got myself a cold brew and began to cruise the scene. The pickings were slim since it was still so early, so I plopped myself at the bar to sulk into my drink until Mr. Right—or at least Mr. For Right Now—appeared. I sulked through a couple more beers, and then finally I saw him. Rather, I should say I saw it, because what I noticed was a slim, leather-encased ass sticking into the air right next to my barstool. When the owner of said butt stood up straight after retrieving what he had dropped, I stared in awe. He was tall, pale, thin but well toned, and his intense ice-blue eyes stabbed out from beneath a tangled crop of black hair. His veiny arms were covered with tattoos, and his left nostril was pierced. And, best of all, he had those damn black leather pants hugging his cock and a matching leather vest draped around his smooth white chest. It was lust at first sight!

His name was Damien, and we were back at my place within twenty minutes. I see no reason to waste time in situations like this. Stripping naked and sitting down on the couch, I beckoned Damien over to me. He obviously approved of my body, because his thin lips curled into a slight smile and a bulge began to form in the tight crotch of his pants. When he was within reach I grabbed his ass and pulled him close, nuzzling my face against his bulge. The leather was smooth and slick against my cheek, and I could feel his cock straining against its confines. The smell was intoxicating, and I inhaled deeply, then began to run my tongue along the outline of his shaft.

The tangy, slightly bitter taste of animal skin jolted my senses, and I pressed my tongue harder against the leather barrier. Damien moaned and made a move to take off his pants, but I stopped him. Leaving the top of his pants buttoned, I pulled down his zipper and his erect cock sprang out, greeting me with a shining silver ring that curled through his cockhead. I was thrilled and hungrily took him into my mouth, kneading his leather-covered balls with one hand and his slender ass cheeks with the other.

I swallowed him ever so slowly, until his cock slid deep into my throat and my nose was buried in his pubic hair. His musky scent, mingled with the animalistic twinge of the leather, soon had me sucking him wildly, sliding his cock almost all the way out and then slurping it back in, his shiny ring tickling the very back of my throat.

My pussy was slippery wet by now, and my juices were seeping onto the seat of my couch. I rotated my hips while sucking Damien, and the sweet leather brushing against my swollen clitoris almost took me over the edge. When Damien reached out and took my breasts in his hands, pinching each nipple roughly, I lost it. My orgasm raced through me like a bolt of lightning, causing me to writhe so wildly I could barely keep Damien's juicy cock in my mouth. But I kept licking and sucking him until my climax calmed, then I let him slip from my mouth. Lying on my back on the already wet couch with my legs spread wide, I told Damien to fuck me.

Reaching into his vest pocket, Damien quickly produced a condom and slipped it on his glistening cock. Not even bothering to remove his pants, he mounted me and shoved his cock deep inside me in one thrust. I gasped and arched my pelvis up, trying to take him deeper. As he pumped into me, my back slid back and forth on the couch and I pressed my sweaty body to him, burying my face in the worn leather of his vest. I grabbed his tight ass, pulling him into me with a howl of delight, rubbing my cheek against his slick vest.

Damien's thrusting increased in pace and intensity, and he began to make little guttural noises. That got me even hotter, and I clenched his flapping vest with both hands and yanked him to me, kissing him savagely, drawing his tongue forcefully into my mouth. Then I pulled away from the kiss and cried out for him to fuck me harder and deeper. I slapped his ass, reveling in the hollow sound of flesh connecting with leather. My mind reeled with images of wild, bacchanalian orgies, and I pictured myself in the center of them all—on a leather couch, of course.

Just then Damien's body began to twitch and convulse on top of me, and he came with an elongated groan of relief. He left his cock inside me and continued to grind his pelvis against mine until the tremors of my orgasm crept into my cunt and discharged throughout my entire body like a bomb of ecstasy. Then I collapsed back onto the couch in a disheveled, wilting heap.

I awoke some hours later, my perspiration-soaked body glued to the couch. A piece of paper lay on the floor with Damien's name and phone number hastily scrawled on it. I spread my legs and moved my hand down to explore my pussy, thinking that Damien might come in handy on some other lazy day when I'm in need of a leather-clad stud.

—Ms. G.V., New York  

Toes Are Tops! Woman Wowed by Enthusiasm
of Fan of the Female Foot

Initially, I found it hard to believe that Tim was more into my toes than my tits. I first saw him on the ferry to Cape Cod, standing on the deck. I stood close to him as the wind stretched the thin material of my blouse against my firm breasts. I was hoping he would notice. He turned slightly and looked me over very slowly. My breasts are large for my petite frame, but they stand very high and are shapely, and I was used to being stared at. Unbelievably, his gaze seemed to linger longest on my painted toes.

We made some small talk, and I was taken with his intense hazel eyes and cute ass. Before I knew it, our short journey had ended; we were docking. Once we were onshore, it started to rain and we made a mad dash to find shelter. My soaked blouse was clinging to my braless breasts, the outline of my hard nipples clearly visible through the flimsy fabric. Yet there he was in the hallway of the inn, on his hands and knees, wiping my feet with his handkerchief. My sandaled feet were totally drenched. I really thought his eyes would go to my heaving chest as the water dripped down my neck into my cleavage. Instead, he was caressing my feet!

Tim gently slid the sandals off my feet as if he were sliding off a pair of panties. He carefully continued rubbing my feet with great tenderness, slowly pressing the silk handkerchief between each toe. As I balanced on one foot in the doorway, Tim wrapped the handkerchief around my foot like a towel and clutched it to his face so he could smell my flowery bath oil. I saw him look up my skirt to see my crotchless panties. He was in ecstasy with a view of my dripping pussy as he caressed my feet.

Until we could get together again, we used the phone to keep the sparks alive. Ex-girlfriends sometimes came up in conversation, and he'd talk about the kinds of shoes they wore: the lanky blonde who wore ballet slippers to bed; the dark Italian who cooked dinner in black spike heels. As he spoke, I could feel and share his excitement.

Finally we were able to meet at a club. I wore a tight leather miniskirt and a transparent white blouse, but Tim focused his attention on my four-inch open-toed fuck-me pumps with red pedicured nails peeping through. At our table in a dark corner of the club, I put my foot in his lap. His hand slid up my leg to caress the inside of my thigh. With his other hand, he started fingering my foot, tracing its outline and slipping a finger into the toe opening of my shoe. His sensuous touch filled me with a warmth that spread to my pussy. He slid my shoe off, pressing his fingers into my arch and sole and sliding them between my toes.

Deciding to give him a thrill, I moved my foot to his crotch, and felt his cock bulge under the pressure. I glided my big toe up and down his growing cock, caressing it through his pants. Then I gently slid my toes down to his balls, massaging each one. This was too much for Tim, and in a breathless voice he suggested that we go to his apartment.

Once there, Tim hustled me into his bedroom. In no time he had me out of my clothes and onto his king-size bed. He got to his knees, and I thought he was about to go down on me, but instead he ran his tongue over my feet. I felt the warm, soft inside of his mouth as he began to suck on my toes. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed some coconut-flavored massage oil, which he dabbed on each toe. It was thrilling to watch him caress my feet, leaving not a square inch unkissed or untouched. At one point he took a quarter of my foot into his wet mouth!

Tim pulled off his clothes, and moments later his thick big toe was probing my pussy, flicking back and forth. Then he penetrated me with his toe. My fingers went to my clitoris as I started playing with myself. I squeezed his toe with my pussy as I would his cock and in no time exploded into orgasm. Tim slowly pulled out and brought his pussy-soaked toes to my mouth so I could lap up my own sticky juices.

I slid my tongue between his toes, nibbling and stroking each toe with my tongue. I sucked each one as if it were his cock. At the same time I stroked his foot with my fingernails and moved onto my stomach so I could run my hands slowly up his thigh. I brushed his balls, all the while sucking and gently biting his toes. I found that the back of his heel was extremely sensitive, almost like his balls. His cock jerked when I pressed my tongue to his heel and massaged him with little circular motions.

Tim and I then arranged ourselves on the bed to give sixty-nine a whole new definition. He ran his tongue down my thigh to my toes. Soon he was on top of me, kissing my feet. I fucked the space between his toes with my tongue. After laving my tingling foot, he slid back and plunged his cock into my mouth. My wet pussy was now poised near his mouth, and I almost came before Tim's mouth touched it. His tongue gave my clitoris the same intense attention he had paid to my toes, and his cock delved deep into my throat as we both dissolved into a tumultuous orgasm.

Though our dates involved more than feet, they were always a part of our lovemaking. Pulling on my sapphire blue thong and garter belt one evening, I spied him in the mirror staring at me. He was already dressed, but his erect cock was outside his pants and he was furiously jerking off.

He watched intently as I slowly slipped on one of my high red pumps. Before I had time to get the other one on, he was at my side. He positioned his long cock just so and shot his come onto my naked foot. The cream seeped between my toes. I bent down, my naked ass in the air, and dipped my fingers into his come to bring his juices to my lips. He stared as I massaged my feet with his silky seed, spreading it all over.

After seeing him play with himself, I wanted to try to masturbate Tim with my feet. In a large two-person Jacuzzi at his place, we sat on our respective shelves, facing each other. My naked breasts were floating in the warm water as he reached out and fondled them. Eventually, I brought my foot to his cock, catching it between my big and second toes. I slid my foot up and down his shaft. I varied my action, slowing it down, giving one quick up and down and then several strokes without stopping. His cock was throbbing.

Soon he gasped, his cock shooting into the water. I gave his cock one last squeeze as he sighed with happiness before bringing me over the top with his toes.

Having a lover who is so much into feet is an adventure, and it has certainly broadened my own capacity for sexual enjoyment! I can hardly believe that I didn't realize the erotic possibilities Tim has shown me since we met.

—Ms. A.C., Delaware   

Getting to Shave Her Head Bald Is an
Aphrodisiac Like No Other

I recently got to fulfill my lifelong fantasy, and let me tell you, I'm a happy man as a result. My fetish isn't one of the usual ones—in fact, I've never met or heard of anyone who shares this particular affinity. What I get off on more than anything else are images of women having their hair cut or heads shaved. To me, a bald woman is the most beautiful and sexy of them all.

My wife, Kelly, has long, luxurious brown hair, the kind that women admire and envy and men lust after. I like her hair, but my most cherished desire has always been to shave off all her precious hair and make love to her while she's bald. She's known about this interest ever since we got together, but I'd always assumed it would stay in the realm of fantasy—not because Kelly's vain, but because I didn't want to take over her appearance with my bizarre interest.

But lately, Kelly has been asking me more and more about it. When we're having sex she'll have me tell her exactly what excites me about bald women. Once she even put on a stocking cap that covered all her hair and made her head totally smooth. "Is this how you'd want me to look?" she asked one day as she emerged from the bathroom, and I almost came right on the spot. So when she told me that her anniversary present to me would be to allow me to shave her bald, I was overjoyed, both about my dream coming true and her dedication. As it turned out, Kelly had also started to get her own thrill out of the thought of me shaving her head.

We decided to do it that weekend, and for the rest of the week I was totally hard at the prospect, no matter how many times I jerked off. Finally, after what felt like weeks of waiting, the big moment arrived. I set her naked in an old barber's chair I'd found in our garage. After making sure she was comfortable, and that my electric clippers, towels, and scissors were handy, I asked if she was ready, and she nodded her head. My heart was pounding as I lifted the hair off her neck and then slid the clippers upward. I drew the clippers only about an inch up her scalp. I caught most of the hair and dropped it into her lap, assessing her reaction. Even though she'd wanted this, I knew that she was sentimental about her hair, but Kelly looked up at me and smiled. "Keep going," she said, "I want to be totally bare."

I made another path next to the first one. This time the hair slid down her front, and some got lodged on her hard nipples, giving me a hint that she might truly be enjoying this process. I inched the clippers a little higher each time. My cock kept getting stiffer and stiffer with each bit of hair that came off. I watched her scalp appear inch by inch, so starkly different from her dark layers of hair.

Once most of the back was clipped, I started being more dramatic. I took the clippers and made one long pass, right down the center of her head, leaving nothing but white skin and sexy stubble behind. I ran my hand over the fuzz, getting even more turned on as I realized how close I was to my long-savored goal. I quickly made another swoop, then another, getting off on the power I held right in my hand. She watched intently as the hair fell away, piling up on the ground. Was that a smile I detected? We'd somehow managed to get through this silently, but when she caught me watching her, Kelly said, "The clippers sound like my vibrator. Once the hair's gone, my scalp is really sensitive, and every time the clippers brush against it I feel shivers running through my body. Keep going," she urged me.

I did, trying to take my time and enjoy it, but before I knew it, all the long hair was clipped off. She wasn't totally bald yet, but close enough that I could clearly see the outline of her head, making her face look totally different; more natural, striking and gorgeous. I wanted to kiss her, but I had a job to finish. I ran the clippers all along her head, shearing off those final few strands, slightly sad that the process was about to come to an end, but even more turned on at seeing the results of my careful snipping.

As I rotated the clippers along my wife's almost-smooth scalp, I looked down to see her hands clamped tightly to the sides of the chair, as if trying not to move. I stepped closer so my body was near hers, and she glanced down at my cock, seeing just how aroused this process had made me.

Finally, when all the hair was off her head and on the ground, I shut the clippers off and ran my hands over her velvety scalp, a small moan escaping my lips. I started kissing her head, flicking my tongue over the few tiny bits of hair left.

She reached up and felt it too. Our hands connected as we jointly stroked her head, rubbing it like it was a crystal ball. "Don't think you're done, because I didn't come this far just to have some stubble on my head," Kelly told me. "Grab your razor and shave me smooth."

This was almost more than I could handle, the thought making my cock absolutely throb with desire. I grabbed a towel, soaked it with warm water, and placed it over her head. After letting the moisture soak in, I removed the towel and spread shaving cream all over her head.

I started at the front of her scalp, shaving a strip smooth, rinsing the razor, then doing another strip. After a few minutes, I lathered her head again. As I shaved her the second time, I ran my fingers along her scalp, making sure all of her hair was gone.

Then we hopped in the shower to rinse off the last bits of shaving cream. Kelly told me how exciting the new sensation of having the water bouncing off her bald head felt. I turned off the water and pulled her close to me. I kissed her wet head, rubbing my cheeks against the gloriously smooth skin, my cock as hard as could be. Then we got out of the shower and dried off, with Kelly letting me have the honor of rubbing the towel over her smooth scalp. Her bald head was even more arousing than it had been in my fantasy, and I had to fuck her right away.

We got into bed, and I lay down while Kelly straddled me. She lowered her pussy over my cock, pushing down as she took my shaft inside her. She lowered her head by looking down and gave me a perfect view of her head, as her cunt clamped around me becoming progressively slicker as she moved. After having to concentrate so closely on my shaving job, I was happy to lie back and let Kelly work her magic on me, while I got to admire my handiwork as she bounced on top of me.

Finally, she settled on riding my cock, her hands on either side of my chest as she rose up and down, brushing her clit against my body as she went. When she swallowed me up, taking my entire length inside her creamy pussy, it was all I could do not to burst my load immediately. "Baby, you made me feel so good," she said as she wrapped her arms around my neck, nuzzling her bare head against me. I rolled us over so I could actively pump into her, thrusting my hips back and forth until my hot liquid poured out of me. I emptied myself deep inside her, then reached down to stroke her clitoris, sending Kelly into orbit as well. My softening cock felt the tug as her pussy twitched in orgasm.

I know that the next few weeks will bring new delights, as I watch the tiny sprouts of hair begin to grow on her head, and we decide whether she'll have a weekly shave, or grow her hair out once again. Either way, fondling her head in its bare, natural state is a gift I'm going to treasure forever.

—Mr. Ed W., Oklahoma City, Oklahoma   

Her Feet Are the Best Part of Her Body and He
Dutifully Worships Them

My girlfriend, Chrissy, has the most gorgeous feet in the world. Don't believe me? It's true. Well, maybe I'm a little biased, but she does make a living as a foot model, showing off her gorgeous feet for all the world to see, and I'm the happy beneficiary of all the upkeep she has to put into her precious peds. She even has them insured and gets to write off all sorts of special scrubs and pedicures. We keep a framed photo of her feet, from a fashion magazine, on our living room wall.