Ross and I are in our late 30s and have been married 18 years. Early in our marriage we decided to be open and honest with each other. Naturally, sex was one of the more important issues we were honest about. “Wild Thrills” is one of our favorite sections and over the years some fun ideas have come from Forum.

One exciting sex session occurred when I was bet $100 that I couldn’t finish a maze puzzle in less than 45 seconds. That was the best Clark, a friend of ours, had done with the puzzle. If I lost, I had to parade around naked and do as I was told. Ross and Clark both put up $50 and I “bet my ass.” It was agreed that Clark could do anything to distract me except touch me or turn out the lights. I had no idea just how far he would go to distract me, but I was intent on winning.

I was sitting Indian style on the floor in nothing but an oversize T shirt, which allowed a perfect view of my pussy. Even though losing meant winning, I was determined to show the guys I could meet the challenge and beat them. The clock started and I immediately became rigid and tense, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

I had to get five small steel balls into the center of the labyrinth in 45 seconds. I lost my concentration when Clark whispered in my ear how pretty my pussy was and how he would like to slide his tongue across the lips and suck on my love button. I felt my juices starting to flow as he crawled over to my pussy, put his mouth inches away from me and started to blow. The clock had ticked away 15 seconds and Ross sat with the stopwatch in hand, loudly announcing every five seconds that passed.

Clark continued his sweet torture with his lewd, seductive phrases and warm breath only inches away from my quivering body. Thirty five seconds passed and I only had one ball in the center of the maze. I summoned all my determination to get the three balls into the center in the next five seconds. “Damn, she’s almost there,” shouted Clark. “We’d better get serious!”

Ross and Clark were both on the floor giving me the thrill chill of a lifetime. But when the time was up, the maze was complete! The look on their faces was one of total shock and disbelief. They started laughing as I tried to stand in triumph. I felt my legs weaken, then just collapsed on the floor with them. I smiled and told them I would bet all my winnings that they couldn’t make me come all night long. It didn’t take long for the lights to be dimmed and soft, sweet, sexy sounds to be turned up on the stereo. I had two rock hard cocks ready to make me eat my words.

Clark brought out some jasmine scented body oil. He heated it in the microwave and then, starting at my toes, worked this way up my legs to my pulsating cunt lips. I held Ross’s beautiful cock in my hand, then guided him to my waiting mouth. Clark moved himself into position to mouth my cunt. His tongue teasingly drew little circles around my clit. I felt that familiar shudder and had my first orgasm of the night.

Ross and Clark won. We played in every position three people can dream of. The funny thing is, I’m not the gambling type. I only like to win. And I did!

Stacy P., Ohio

Elsa likes to spread chocolate sauce on my balls and lick them clean. The most amazing feeling, I promise you, is being eaten like a double scoop, nut covered, chocolate dipped sundae. Elsa uses a silver opener to punch two holes in a can of Hershey’s Syrup, and then she pulls down my boxers. I love her sweet hands on the waistband of my shorts, urgently tugging, pulling, rolling the elastic down my muscled thighs, yanking it down my legs and off my feet.

“Wild,” is how I describe her to Bill, my best friend. “She just goes wild on me.”

“Lucky,” is how Bill describes me and my exciting relationship.

Once I’m naked, Elsa scoops my balls up in her little hands and drowns them in the thick, oozing syrup. It flows over the base of my cock and down between my legs. She smears the rich chocolate up the insides of my thighs, then wipes her hands clean on the flat of my stomach.

“Sticky sweet,” she smiles at me.

“My hungry kitten,” I call her.

Sometimes she completes the dessert with whipped cream, delighting in the rush of foam that spurts from the down turned can. A “Sam Supreme” with a maraschino cherry nestled in the clouds of cream.

Elsa curls herself between my legs and laps at me with her delicate tongue. She is very thorough, devouring ever drip of the rich chocolate, every sinful fluff of white whipped cream. Then she finishes the meal by drawing my bulging cock into her perfect mouth and bathing it in the delicious heat of her throat. She licks and sucks until the first clear drops of precome slide onto her tongue. She is dripping wet herself by now, and she quickly straddles me and holds her pussy lips open so that I enter her with one long thrust.

Oh, the sounds my sweet kitten makes. She moans and cries, then arches her back and presses her smooth little breasts forward for me to cup with my big hands. That really sets her off. I roll her nipples between my fingers until they’re as hard as tiny candies. I stroke her breasts, her concave belly. I hook my hands together, letting her rest the weight of her pubis against them. She rubs back and forth, creating a dangerous friction that makes her purr and her strawberry blonde ringlets cascade over me in glittering softness, tickling my chest and shoulders.

I never stop pounding into her this whole time. I almost pull out with each stroke, leaving only the head of my cock inside her. She contracts on me with the powerful muscles of her pussy, desperately trying to keep me inside that velvet corridor.

That’s the trick to giving her pleasure, the constant and continual threat hanging about her— unspoken, but there— that at any time I might stop fucking her and decide to roll over and go to sleep, or take care of myself with a few well known moves by my right hand.

Of course, I don’t do that to her, but I’m very good at teasing. I make her work for her orgasms. I keep the rhythm going, a powerful in and out Lambada that has both of our hearts racing for the finish line. She grasps my shoulders for leverage, moving with me, rocking her hips from side to side to help my cock find all the right places within her, those secret, forbidden places that set her on fire. When I’m about to explode, I slow down, knowing that she wants me to keep driving that steady beat and, despite her moans of protest, I pull out.

“Please,” she whispers. But I refuse her and lift her straining body off mine.

“Please, Sam, please . . . ”

I lay her down on her back and run my fingers all over her precious body, everywhere except the place she wants them the most. She squirms from the intensity of her need and from the thought that she might not get what she wants. But I just keep stroking her, and then, while she watches with wide ocean eyes, I grab a mentholated cough drop from the bedside table, unwrap it and start to suck it.

She lies so still while I finish the cough drop, barely holding herself in, knowing what’s to come. When my mouth is all tingly, I part her legs and tell her to open her pussy for me. When she spreads herself wide like that for me, her fingers slippery with her heady nectar, I go wild on her satin skin slit.

I bend forward and begin lapping at her juices with the flat of my mentholated tongue. I lick and lick and dive for each drop of luscious honey. The medicine in those cough drops does much more than numb a sore throat, it sends sparks through her entire system, currents of blue electricity that build into thick fluid lines, pulsing in the heart of her pussy, beating down deep.

“Ohh,” she moans and clutches fistfuls of my hair, driving her hips forward while forcing my face against her, getting her juices all over my nose and chin. I hold onto her hips to stay with her— she’s controlling the rhythm now, she’s thrusting to her own beat— and I let my tongue go even deeper. My breath is a cool rush against the heat rising off her pussy, a wave of mint ice that touches her sensitive clitoris.

I pull free from her demanding grasp and flick my tongue lower, press just the tip against her asshole. That makes her truly lose control and she screams like a heroine in a black and white horror movie. I press my tongue in just a little farther and she wriggles against me and screams louder.

It takes me right over the edge, and I sit back on my heels, grab her by the waist and thrust my cock so deep into her body that I feel we will both shatter with force. Elsa screams again— not a moan or a cry, but a hungry scream— and I pound my pulsing cock into her again and again, pull out and then go back in to the hilt, my balls slapping hard against her, spanking her pretty bottom.

Her legs are all over my thighs, and she arches and fucks my back, moving her body in sync with mine, clenching handfuls of the sheet beneath her. I have a second to think that she has never looked so beautiful, her blonde mane tossed back from her lovely face, her full lips drawn away from her teeth in an almost devilish grin. Her cheeks are flushed as if she’s been running, and her body seems to glow with the heat of our sex.

Then my mind goes blank and I just pump into her and fuck her until I can’t hold back any longer. Through gritted teeth I groan, “You better come now, baby.” And she moans and shudders and I feel those unreal contractions of her pussy around my cock, grabbing me, milking me. We come together, flowing on and on forever, until we are both as limp as two rag dolls. I hold her to me, my cock still deep inside her, our bodies glued together with sex and sweat. We fall asleep like that, playing starring roles in each other’s mentholated dreams.

— Sam P., North Dakota

Some years ago I hung out at this great rock and roll steakhouse. The bands were great, the place was packed with fun people even on weeknights and I had my way with a number of the regular babes. One of the most striking was Joanie. You couldn’t miss her she was six feet tall and always wore high heels. She had great, long legs and long black hair. She was proud of her ample bosom and liked to show it off.

We got to talking one night just before Thanksgiving and discovered we both wanted to avoid the turkey and stuffy relatives ritual. So we made a date for early Thanksgiving Day. On a lark, I took her to Disneyland, which is only an hour away.

Although the park was quite empty in the early morning, it would fill up with young couples and families with kids later on. First we had breakfast near the park entrance. We eventually went on practically ever ride, with me enjoying the envious looks of the park employees and the male tourists. We were generally outrageous, teasing each other and acting silly.

We went on the Pirates of the Caribbean, making up our own hilarious commentary, and then took a raft ride to Tom Sawyer’s Island. Joanie dragged me by the hand all over the island, trying to find a place we could hide and get something started. She had my hand up her skirt several times, or her hand down my pants. But someone was always nearby, so we had to cool it.

We wandered back over to Tomorrowland and got on the skytram thing that goes through the Matterhorn. Joanie couldn’t wait any longer, and she tore open my fly and went down on me up there in the bucket, 80 feet in the air. Nobody could hear Joanie’s slurping noises for all the racket from the bobsled ride below, and when we drifted inside the Matterhorn, she went crazy with her long tongue and I got rather dizzy. Then, just as one of the bobsleds reached the top and started its descent, the passengers screaming, another bobsled ran down my spine and I came, and did some howling myself. I could hardly walk as we got off the skytram ride.

Well, there we were next to the Small World ride, so we went on that next, finessing ourselves into the last row of seats on the boat. As Joanie hung onto my arm and nibbled my ear, I began to consider ways to return the favor. Her miniskirt had ridden up on those long, smooth legs of hers, allowing me access to her sopping crotch. As my hands slid up her thigh, she spread her legs and kept tonguing my ear.

I managed to pull her lacy panties down her thighs and left them there. Then I stuck my middle finger between her fleshy labia and wiggled it to the rhythm of the mechanical dolls singing the Small World theme song. She responded so wildly that she gave me a hickey the size of a baseball on my neck.

We went around Frontierland Lake, past the Bear Jamboree where the Indian Village used to be, and I found a fresh patch of landscaping with bushes big enough to hide behind. Giggling, we scurried out of sight. I told Joanie to get down on all fours and she did so, giving me a lustful look over her shoulder. I unzipped my fly and slowly slid my iron hard monster into her warm, dripping cunt.

We fucked each other’s brains out until I blew another humongous load as she shimmied and shivered through her own orgasmic convulsions. She had grabbed some of the long grass with each hand and tore divots out the size of saucers on both sides. We lay there laughing for the longest time to the sound of the fun loving tourists.

So that was my erotic adventure a long time ago in the Magic Kingdom. The only problem is that to this day, no matter where I am, every time I hear even a few bars of the Small World song, I get a raging hard on. So, I just want to say: thank you, Joanie, wherever you are today. And also, thanks to Walt. Wherever you are.

Nathan P., California