Classic Forum


I’m a middle aged single man who often fantasizes about being a submissive slave to a very demanding mistress— a woman who would take great pleasure in subjecting me to the ultimate forms of humiliation.

My fantasy goes something like this: After a spanking, my mistress locks a collar around my neck and leads me to a table where she gives me an enema. Continuing on to the next excitement, I am blindfolded and led briskly to the living room. When my blindfold is removed, I see a man standing before me with his pants around his ankles, his pulsing cock standing proudly at attention. I can feel myself begin to turn red with shame— and excitement.

I try to avoid eye contact as I begin to kiss his neck and chest, then I feel a firm tug on my collar that drives me to my knees. The man’s cock appears absolutely huge from this angle! Trying desperately to postpone the inevitable, I kiss it tenderly, and run my tongue up and down the shaft.

I notice my mistress palming her whip impatiently. She doesn’t have to speak I know what she wants. I take a deep breath, swallow the last of my pride and take the stranger’s cock in my mouth. My mistress is very pleased with my obedience and my willingness to please her.

After a few minutes, I find it’s not unpleasant for me, and I continue sucking the stranger’s cock until his hot, wet semen shoots all over my face. I lick up every drop because I know my mistress will accept nothing less. After the man leaves, my mistress informs me that I have been a good slave: totally submissive and sufficiently obedient. I will therefore be granted a period of foot worship.

As I brush my cheek across the cool leather of her spike heeled boots, I confess my love for her and my obedience to her. I am truly lucky to have a mistress who understands and accommodates my need to be submissive.

I hope other slaves will write about this form of humiliation.— T.W., Seattle, Washington


Until recently I thought most of the letters to Penthouse Forum were people’s daydreams. The following personal experience, however, helped to change my mind.

I drive a truck. Last Monday I was heading north when I noticed a Mercedes convertible speeding up, slowing down and swerving a bit. I pulled alongside the erratically driven car and saw a woman who looked to be in her 30s seated behind the wheel. She had brown hair, was neatly dressed and was holding a cup of coffee. To my sudden surprise, she took the coffee mug and slid it up and down the inside of one thigh. Then she pulled her pleated skirt up around her hips. I blinked twice, noticing she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her naked cunt now bared to me, she moved the hot coffee mug around her furry patch. Then she put the mug down on the console and dipped her finger into the cup. She pulled her finger out, a drop of hot liquid barely visible at the tip, and began rubbing her clit with her finger. I couldn’t believe what was happening right there on the road, and I was in a state of total shock. My dick grew harder every second as I watched her get herself off with her hot little finger.

After about five minutes of this, I caught her attention by tooting on my horn. She casually looked up at me, knowing that I had been watching her. She winked and motioned for me to get behind her.

She pulled into a rest area. I followed her, stopped and jumped out of the cab. As I was walking toward her car, the lady hopped over the console and lay back in the passenger seat. I opened the car door and started, not knowing what to say. She broke the silence by saying, “You’re my first trucker. I’ve always wondered if you guys are as horny as they say.”

My jeans almost burst open as
she fondled my prick through the denim. As quickly as I could, I pulled my pants down, got in the car and climbed on top of her. I entered her firmly but gently. Her juices started flowing. I fucked her so intensely, she came in two minutes. I continued to pound her until she had another orgasm. I quickened my thrusts to meet her arching body.

Just as I was about to come, she reached over, grabbed the half full mug and poured the warm coffee where we were joined. I exploded! The warm liquid and her heaving body sent me into one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. My dick must have twitched inside her for 30 seconds.

After we relaxed for a little while, she said, “Thanks for some cream in my coffee.” I told her to call me the next time she wanted a coffee break!— Name and address withheld


I’m a 20 year old man, an honor student at a popular university. I study most of the time, and for that reason have a reputation as a boring egghead. But if my friends knew about the sexual experience I had last semester they’d see that I’m not the nerd they think I am.

One evening I was alone in the library— where I spend more than some of my time— studying for a calculus midterm, when in walked a tall, slender blonde carrying a tall stack of books. I recognized her from one of my classes and was well aware of how, during lectures, my mind wandered to thoughts of being entwined in naked passion with this tall, tan beauty. She had a small, round ass and big, firm breasts that sat upright without the need of a bra. She took her place in a quiet corner and opened one of the books she’d carried over. Looking at her, my studies suddenly lost all importance.

After some time passed, I saw her snap her pencil in anger. This was the perfect opportunity, and I went over to her and asked if she was having problems with a particular subject. She replied, “Yeah, you could say that.” It seemed the troublesome subject wasn’t calculus or biology, but her boyfriend. We talked about her problem for a while, and before long she leaned over and whispered an invitation to continue our conversation someplace more intimate— her dorm room across campus.

In her room, I tried to let my hands rest casually on my lap in an attempt to hide the hard on bulging against my fly. However, when she saw my erection, she smiled devilishly and offered to help cure the building tension there. When I shyly answered, “Uh, yeah, okay,” she slowly unzipped my pants and freed my blazing boner. I had no idea what she was going to do next, but I was pretty sure that it was going to be good.

She knelt in front of me and took my cock into her mouth. I let loose a moan of joy as my stiff cock slid in and out of the moist tunnel formed by her lips and tongue. She was sucking it all the way down to the base, and I soon shot my load. She took it with no effort, then suggested that I undress, lie back and relax.

I watched her undress and my limp tool suddenly grew hard again. She climbed on top of me, slid my hard dick into her pussy and rode me, swaying back and forth and from side to side, enveloping my cock with her hot, hairy cunt and giving herself the benefit of every hard inch. When I felt her box tighten up around my dick I knew she was going to come. She climaxed with a great shudder— just as her roommate entered! The three of us exchanged embarrassed glances, the roommate made some excuse and left the room, and I quickly got dressed and left.

The next morning I found it impossible to concentrate on my calculus exam. My mind was still engaged in the basic equation of one into one.— Name and address withheld


I don’t know any woman who doesn’t have a celebrity crush. Some girls are nuts about Patrick Swayze, others go crazy over Rob Lowe. But for me, it’s Mel Gibson.

In my fantasy, I’m at the movies alone, watching one of Mel’s new pictures. I’m so interested in what is going on up on the silver screen that I don’t notice someone slipping into the seat beside me. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see it’s him— the man of my dreams, Mel Gibson! I’m so stunned to see him next to me that I’m totally speechless. He smiles at me and asks in a deep, seductive voice, “Are you enjoying the movie?”

It takes a minute, but after getting over the shock, I’m finally able to speak. “Yes,” I blurt out. He laughs and tells me to relax. We talk for a while. I tell him how much I adore him. While we are chatting, I feel wetness growing in my crotch.

His voice suddenly takes on a low, seductive quality. He places his hand on my thigh and slowly, teasingly rubs me. At this point I’m so horny I start moaning in his ear.

He stops rubbing my leg, looks into my eyes and whispers, “This isn’t the right place for what I have in mind.” He stands and takes my hand. I follow him out of the theater in a trance, not caring where he’s taking me as long as we’re together. When we get to his car, he tells me that he’s going to make all my fantasies come true.

He pushes the front seats back and starts kissing me with such passion that I feel like I’m going to melt in his arms. Our tongues entwine. His hands travel over my chest and he unbuttons my blouse so he can suck on my rock hard nipples.

He does this with such expertise that I have an orgasm with no trouble at all. Now it’s my turn to show him my ability, and I pull his pants down and eagerly grab his beautiful cock, which is already hard. I start licking and sucking every inch of it.

I deep throat him ever so gently. Then he starts fucking my mouth with full thrusts. I begin to have another orgasm just from hearing his manly grunts. He has me sit back, and yanks down my jeans and panties. His warm, strong hands spread my legs, and he places his hot mouth on my pussy. He licks, sucks and nibbles my cunt in such a way that I’m almost out of my mind with pleasure.

This is too much. I’m screaming. I tell him to fuck me, to drown me in his come. He kisses his way up to my heaving tits and starts tonguing my erect nipples until they feel as if they are going to burst. He licks and sucks my shoulders and neck, and then presses his lips against mine. I tell him to take me.

We hop into the back of the car. I lay on the seat while he grabs my legs and wraps them around his waist. His cock feels like a burning poker as he steadily slides it all the way inside me. He glides in and out, in and out.

I beg him to fuck me harder, and he does, thrusting with great strength. Suddenly, I’m coming and I never want the feeling to stop.

I beg him to fill me with his come. He grabs my tits, pumps me harder and cries, “I’m going to come!” I feel his cock start throbbing inside my pussy, and then his thick, hot come starts spurting. He holds my breasts tightly and continues to thrust as his cock spews its hot, creamy load.

We just lay there for a while, not saying a word. I feel warm and comfortable in his arms. I never want the afterglow to end. But then he breaks the silence, saying, “Someday we’ll meet again.” — Name and address withheld


On a recent Saturday night, my wife Erika and I decided to go to a local tavern. Looking around, we spotted some friends and joined them at their table. After we had a few rounds of drinks, my eyes began to roam about the darkened bar. I noticed a tall blonde talking with another girl at the far end of the bar she was certainly the most attractive woman in the place. As my wife was engaged in a serious conversation with her girlfriend, I proceeded to make my way to the bar to order another round of drinks. In doing so, I caught sight of the same curvaceous blonde slowly coming toward me.

When she was standing next to me, she asked me if it would be all right if she placed her hand in my pocket. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, but I wanted to find out. After quickly checking to see that my wife was still engaged in conversation, I nodded yes, so she placed her hand in my pocket.

After withdrawing her hand, she asked if I wanted to put my hand down her front pocket. I still wasn’t sure what her game was, but I said yes, so I proceeded to stick my hand down into the gorgeous blonde’s front pocket. To my amazement, I felt something bushy. I then realized that her pocket had a hole in it and she wasn’t wearing panties. I proceeded to run my fingers through her thick bush, until I encountered the moistest pair of love lips I had ever felt. She began to moan softly. Fearing that I would get caught by my wife or one of our friends, I withdrew my hand.

I returned to my table, but soon I had to take a piss and I went to the rest room. Leaving the men’s room, I had to pass in front of the ladies’ room. As I was doing so, I heard a soft voice beckoning me inside. When I entered, I found the same girl from before sitting on a toilet, smiling at me. I quickly learned that she reallly was a true blonde.

I got down on my knees and began licking her pussy, bringing her to a fast climax. When I stood up, she pulled my zipper down and gave me the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life— even though she didn’t let me come.

After she had licked me clean, she got up and walked over to the sink, where she bent over and exposed her lovely pink gash. I entered her from behind. Her moans of pleasure were so intense that I was aroused to heights of ecstasy I had never before experienced. After my final thrust, I withdrew my cock from her steaming pussy and shot my creamy load all over her back.

Totally spent, I rejoined my wife and friends with a smile on my face.— G.C., Montclair, New Jersey


I’m a happily married woman who’s been with her man for a decade now, but I have to tell you about something that happened a few weeks before I got married. I was thinking about my upcoming wedding, when I started to get a case of cold feet.

I didn’t really know Rocky, but I used to see him walk by my house every night on his way to the gym. He looked great in his tight T shirt and Spandex shorts that showed every inch of his big cock. Just the sight of his shapely bulge swaying before my eyes would make me damp in the panties. To make a long story short, this night I was sitting on my steps around one in the morning when Rocky came staggering down the street as drunk as a skunk. He came over to me and started talking. My nipples got hard as he sat down and told me that he’d lost his keys and was locked out of his house.

I told him he could sleep on my couch. He was grateful. We went inside. I told him that if he took a shower he would feel better, and he agreed. Since Rocky was falling all over the place, I insisted on helping him. I slowly undressed him. When I got down to his shorts, I thought I was going to die when I saw his cock.

When I turned the shower on, I “accidentally” stuck my head under the spray of water. I told him that since I was already wet, I might as well join him. I got undressed faster than the speed of light and jumped into the shower stall. To my surprise, Rocky handed me the soap as soon as I was in the shower and asked me to help. I slowly rubbed his chest and caressed his buttocks with the wash rag. Then I slowly fell to my knees and sucked on Rocky’s cock. I waited for some kind of reaction from him. All I got was the sound of pure satisfaction. I kept sucking and playing with his huge balls. When he finally exploded, I swallowed his hot jism.

I got over the case of cold feet, and I’m glad this fling showed me how much I truly love my man.— Name and address withheld

Forum Interview: Travis Whitelaw

FORUM: What’s a guy from Red Lick, Texas, doing living in New York City these days?

WHITELAW: I don’t know how much you know about Red Lick, but it’s sorta like the buckle on the Bible Belt. Bottom line is there ain’t a whole helluva lot to do. The speed of life is decidedly slower, let’s just say that. It’s a little bit more lively than out in the middle of nowhere, but that ain’t sayin’ much. The funny thing about it is now that you got internet porn and stuff, forget about it, even the hell fire preacher, he’s watchin’ babes gettin’ cornholed and what have you. I mean, come on. Who we kiddin’ here?

As far as being in New York City, the bottom line is that I was looking for— and I hate to use this word— a little bit more liberal sort of audience. The funny thing is now that I’m here, all them people like the Village Voice and Time Out, they think they’re too good to even touch this stuff. I figured maybe they’d be a little more receptive to it, but they haven’t exactly been fallin’ all over themselves to tell the world how great I am. If you ask me, they’re a little bit behind the curve. What I’m tryin’ to say here is that I came up here with the idea that I wouldn’t get run out of town for playing these kinda songs. When I started playing a few of these songs to some of the Red Lick locals at some of the local pubs, let’s just say that the reception wasn’t warm and welcoming.

FORUM: You’re not gonna get a Garth Brooks crowd singing songs like “Assman” and “As Long as I Have a Face (You’ve Got a Place To Sit),” will you?

WHITELAW: You know, it’s more like a biker crowd. They tend to go for that kinda stuff. That’s sorta the long and short of it.

FORUM: What kind of places were you playing down there?

WHITELAW: Well, I mean they’d be like these little roadhouses. Little buckets of blood is what I call those kind of places. Places off the beaten track, little roadhouses, stuff like that. There were a few taverns in town that I used to play on occasion. But if you weren’t doing one of the Hanks or one of the Merles, the reception wasn’t all that. You’d get a couple chuckles, but there was also a little bit of hostility.

FORUM: Were you playing behind chicken wire?

WHITELAW: (laughs) Well it wasn’t nothing like that, but there was this one time when this one proprietor of this place, I’ll never forget this cat, he came out from behind the bar after we played “Titty Fuck,” like right in the middle of the set, and he had a baseball bat, and he said, “If you don’t get your ass outta here, I’m gonna just cave in the side of your head right now, buddy.” We just had to pack up and get the hell out of there before it got ugly.

FORUM: He didn’t know what he was getting when he booked you?

WHITELAW: Well, I kinda, I bamboozled him a little. I told him we were gonna do some country classics and spice it up with some of our own material. And he went for it. We always do the same thing. We play a few of the more innocuous sounding numbers right off the bat. You gotta grease the pan before you slip the meat in, you know? And then kinda unleash holy hell on ‘em after a few numbers. This fella was not amused. I remember him well.

FORUM: I hear that the best material comes from your own experiences.

WHITELAW: Well I mean sometimes, and sometimes you just take stuff from a story that somebody told ya. I’ll give ya a couple examples. Like “Tits or Tires” for example. This one didn’t come from an experience I had back home, this one happened in upstate New York. I was up visiting a buddy and we were doing some hunting a couple years back and we were near this little town maybe two or three hours upstate. This guy passed me by in one of them souped up mid to late ’70s muscle cars, like an SS or a Nova or one of them. Had a big old bumper sticker, right, but not even on the bumper, it was on the side window, and it said, “If it’s got tits or tires, it’ll give you trouble.” I said, “Hey buddy, that’s a song right there.” Me and my bass player Kyle sat down and wrote it the next week.

Kyle’s got this buddy, this German dude who was in Reno, Nevada, gamblin’ one time. He’s this short little barrel chested dude. He was gamblin’ and he was losin’ his shirt, man. He was throwin’ hundreds at the blackjack table, one after the other after the other, and he was gettin’ real bummed out, lookin’ real sorry. So this kinda tore up from the floor up, middle aged hooker comes up to him and says, “Hey darlin’, looks like you could use a titty fuck!” This dude cut his losses right then and there, took what little money he had left, and said, “Darlin’, I’m gonna take you up on that!” It didn’t happen to me, it happened to a dude I know, but I thought it was worthy of a song.

Now some of the others, I’ll plead guilty as charged. The tune “She Likes It (Rough),” that’s all me. Listen man, let me tell you somethin’. All them little hippie chicks? I picked up this girl one time and I knew most of the guys she dated must’ve been from the Socialist League or Granola Chompers Anonymous or some shit. They were those kinda dudes. Bein’ with me was the first time she ever got a fella that wouldn’t mind just grabbin’ her by the hair and sayin’, “Honey, here’s how it’s gonna go tonight, ya understand?” I mean, I’m a gentleman but I’m a cowboy. If you tell me to stop, I’m gonna stop, but if you don’t say nothin’, I’m gonna keep goin’. And this broad, she was into it. This girl was all about it, man. She was comin’ like five, six times, having a great old time. Couple days later she calls me up and she goes, “Travis, was you mad at me or somethin’ the other night?” And I said, “No, why do you ask?” And she said, “Well, I detected a certain hostility. There was somethin’ in there.”

I said, “Well, I wasn’t hostile or anything. You had a good time, didn’t you?” She said, “Yeah, what are you doing tonight?” I said, “I guess I’m coming over!” But there you go. She thought I was pissed off, and I was just so into the love, my way.

FORUM: For the benefit of all the gals you meet on the road, what kind of a fuck are you?

WHITELAW: Oh shit! What kind of a fuck am I? Hell, I don’t know. You’re gonna have to ask some of the girls. I ain’t never had nobody ask me what kind of fuck I am. Hopefully highly skilled and, I don’t know, what do those broads wanna hear?

But since you mentioned all the women on the road, this is real important and I wanna spread the word on this. All you gals out there with husbands and boyfriends, I want you to use a condom with that man. Use a condom at home. Because when you come to my show, I’m gonna raw dog ya, and I don’t wanna catch nothin’. So that’s real important. Nah, I’m kiddin’ there. Kinda.

FORUM: So how did you lose your virginity?

WHITELAW: Oh man. This is a good one. This’ll show you what a dirty dog I was. I was pretty young. I was a sick little fuck myself. I ain’t lyin’. This is the God’s honest truth. This girl had an ass on her looked like you cut a basketball in two and strapped the halves to the bottom of her back. And she was a white girl, too. She had beautiful hair. I’ll never forget this broad. She was real young, smoked cigarettes. She smoked two packs a day. You ever heard that joke— I know all the redneck jokes— What did the 13 year old Kentucky girl say when her daddy was tryin’ to fuck her?

FORUM: I don’t know.

WHITELAW: Careful, pappy, yer crushin’ my smokes.

FORUM: (laughs)

WHITELAW: Now you may say that that’s funny, but I ain’t lyin’ when I tell you this was a girl, smoked two packs of cigarettes a day. I ain’t lyin’. God’s honest truth. So anyway, this girl, she was just smokin’ hot and just burstin’ with youthful nubility. She was somethin’ else. I’ll never forget just the sight of her walkin’ down the street. I would get hard just lookin’ at her out my window. I was tryin’ to figure out how to get this girl alone. So I called her up and I told her that I had taken an overdose of speed and LSD and I was freakin’ out and I was losin’ my mind and could she please come over and comfort me because I was so upset and freaked out and seein’ visions and everything. I just laid down this rap and she was like, “All right, I’ll be right over!” She came over and yeah, she started comfortin’ me— one thing led to another, and I popped my cherry right then and there.

And I’m gonna tell you something else. Oh, you gonna love this, this is crazy. Not long after, I was over her place, and we thought there was nobody home. So we was in her bedroom going at it and all of a sudden there comes a knock at the door. Her bedroom had like this little hallway, and when you walked in the bedroom, you couldn’t see the bedroom. You had to walk down this maybe five, six foot hallway and then you were in the room. So we didn’t hear nothin’ ’cause we were goin’ at it. Then we look up and her momma is standin’ right there, just lookin’ at us. And there we are, butt nekkid, goin’ at it, and she’s like, “Oh, excuse me,” and she left the room. Man, my heart was already goin’ ’cause we was doin’ it, but after that it just about bust outta my chest.

A couple days later I went back and knocked on the door and her momma answered the door and I said to her, “Ma’am, I just wanna tell you if I offended you or if I embarrassed you by what you seen the other day, I apologize.” This woman says to me, she said, “Honey, Travis, don’t fret. It’s all right. It’s no problem, I understand, it’s okay.” I couldn’t believe it. The only reason I did it was because it’s a small town, I knew I was gonna see her again, and I figured the best thing to do would be apologize and try to save some face. “Don’t fret, darlin’,” those were her exact words.

They talk about people bein’ liberal up here? That was in Texarkana, buddy. You can’t believe these strict lines about what culture is like in one place versus another. There’s stereotypes about stuff you just can’t necessarily believe. But that’s the God’s honest truth, man. That’s exactly how it went down.

FORUM: Is there too much political correctness in this country? Are too many people worried about pissing someone else off?

WHITELAW: Yeah, I definitely think so. Well, that’s at the heart of what I’m doin’ here. I’m tryin’ to get people to lighten the fuck up a little bit. Just have a good laugh. On the other hand, I do appreciate that. What’s the classic example? Black folks call each other nigger all day long, but if a white person does it he’s gonna get his ass kicked. I mean, I have a certain understanding. I got this Jewish buddy up here. I mean there’s nothin’ but Jews up here in New York runnin’ all over the place. He’ll be talkin’ to some Jewish buddy of his and he’ll be like, “Don’t be a damn Jew, give me that $5!” But if I said that, I’d be in trouble. I understand. You gotta tread a fine line. But by and large, I would say yes, there’s definitely people who’ve gotten way too damn uptight. People just need to relax a little bit.

FORUM: Could Travis Whitelaw use the word “nigger” in a song?

WHITELAW: I don’t think so. Mainly because being a Southern white fella it’s like, they already think that I’m thinkin’ that without even openin’ my mouth, so the last thing I need to do is kinda confirm their suspicions of my supposed bigotry. Let me tell you somethin’, buddy. I laid pipe on every goddamn kinda woman. I mean the best woman, I tell you man, this happened out west, this happened in San Francisco. There was this girl that was half black, half Chinese. Oh my god, man, let me tell you somethin’. She had skin like silk. I will never forget the feeling of this broad’s skin. It was velvety soft. It was unbelievable. I’m tellin’ you, man, she’d take it to the bristles without battin’ an eye. I don’t care where you from, what kind of person are you, that’s what I care about. Particularly if you’re a female.

Nah, I don’t think there’d be any good to come from it, but I don’t think that any good comes from tryin’ to please everybody, either. The bottom line is if you’re any good at what you do, whatever you do, there’s gonna be some people who think you totally suck and hate you and there’s gonna be some people who are really gonna dig you. If everybody’s like “Oh, he’s all right, he’s okay,” then you doin’ somethin’ wrong. You know what I mean? There’s girls that hate the shit that I do. They think it’s the most offensive, nasty, raunchy stuff. And there’s other girls that love it, that think it’s the funniest thing ever. They’re in a big hurry to spend a little quality time with the Texarkana Terror, you know what I mean? If you like it, great. If you don’t, change the channel, buddy. There’s plenty of other shit out there you could check out.

It’s kinda funny too because over the last couple of years there’s been this big groundswell of turning things around with discrimination against the gays and things like that. And I’m thinkin’ to myself, “Wow, how seriously are people gonna take a song like “Reel Cowboys (Like Pussy)” ? You gotta be some kinda idiot if you think that I’m really tellin’ people that [Brokeback Mountain] is some sorta slap against our country. What I’m tryin’ to do in that song is to show people how much of an idiot you gotta be if you’re gonna get upset about that movie. But there’s some people don’t get that, which always surprises me. I’m like okay, I guess you gotta be a little bit thick if you’re taking that literally. That was the whole reason that we put that little twist into the title, why we spell it R E E L, like cowboy movie. But these uptight types they kinda like skate right past that and be like, “Oh, you’re homophobic, you hate queers,” and all the rest of it.

FORUM: Once I heard a songwriter who said some people don’t understand that sometimes you’re singing in quotation marks. Someone else is saying those words, it’s not always what the performer feels.

WHITELAW: That’s what I’m talking about. Why can you write a book about somebody that goes out and kills a bunch of people and people are like, Oh, you’re an author. But if you write a song and you’re inhabiting that character in order to perform a song? Did Johnny Cash really shoot a guy in Reno just to watch him die? I mean come on now. People suspend their disbelief in a different kind of a way for music. It’s interestin’, right? It’s like why is that. I was talkin’ to a buddy about it once. I was like, Why can Johnny Cash sing that and it’s okay, but if you have a young gangster rap dude type guy singing one of these things everybody condemns them? His argument, which I don’t necessarily agree with or disagree with, was that black folks are still havin’ a hard time as a people and that they still kinda need to kinda elevate themselves you know as a group. You know like why is it you got generation after generation of people on welfare and then there’s these people celebratin’ gangsterism, and that’s not a good example for the black youth. That’s what he was sayin’ and I can sorta see that, I mean that sorta makes sense in a certain way. If you wanna grow up to be president you don’t wanna be like glorifyin’ sellin’ crack. But that’s why this is America. You can say whatever you damn well please. That’s somethin’ that’s beautiful about this country.

For a rockin’ and rollin’ good time, log onto

Classic Forum


Buying our first Forum on the way home from a Las Vegas vacation was the best thing that ever happened to our 10 year marriage. You see, we’ve always enjoyed sex, and orgasms were never a problem but 10 years of fucking only one partner can become routine. Forum wasted no time in putting real excitement back into our sex life.

We bought your magazine for entertainment and entertaining it was! As I read one story and then another to my husband I was actually embarrassed at how wet my pussy was. My shorts were soaked through after only two letters. I’ve never read anything like this before. I was squirming in my seat to hide my obvious excitement when I noticed my husband’s dick poking hard out of his boxers. I decided not to say anything and let things progress a bit, so I continued reading and lubricating. Occasionally I reached down to rub myself or straighten my shorts but discovered I was turning myself on even more.

My husband’s cock couldn’t take any more pressure. The sex stories were new to both of us and the excitement was overwhelming. His dick was throbbing and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I rubbed his dick to tell him I shared his excitement. I led his hand to my wet shorts and he realized that I was as hot as he was. He fingered me until my pussy exploded, shooting his fingers out of me with pure pleasure. I had to return the favor— and fast— before he shot his load into his pants.

I unzipped his shorts and his cock popped out immediately. I went down on his throbbing dick with my hot, wet mouth and the action got heavy fast. I sucked that hard dick until saliva was sliding down the sides of his penis. Before I could stop to savor the moment his dick exploded in my mouth. I lapped up every single drop of that delicious come.

We felt we had to enjoy this hot sex inside of each other. My pussy was still pulsating and I had as much juice in my shorts as I could stand. A good roadside fucking couldn’t be avoided. Not even a six lane interstate could stop our sexual excitement. My husband pulled over on the side of the highway, pushed the car seat back and I climbed up on his hard cock. It was thick, long and stiff— a wet pussy’s dream. Sliding up and down on that hard cock with the car rocking and traffic passing sent us out of control and into wild passion. I felt continuous and throbbing orgasms, which excited me to shrill screams. As I screamed I could feel his hand on my hips pushing me further and further down on that hard cock and balls. Hot come and a throbbing dick made us both moan and moan as we completed our overheated sexual tryst that I’m sure, thanks to Forum, will never be surpassed.

I’m writing this letter to you on the road with another 1,200 miles to go. But I can tell that the trip home is going to go by too fast. Thanks from both me and my husband!— Name and address withheld


Want to please your man? Praise his cock. I learned this early in my courtship with my husband. He’s not a vain man in other respects, but his cock is his pride and joy. We are a matched pair because we have a common interest— his dick. I tell him he would be a sensation in a nudist colony, walking around with a semi erection and his foreskin pulled back as it usually is. In fact, he first got the feeling that he had something special from the comments of the boys in the locker room when he was just in his teens. At first he was embarrassed, but finally he came to enjoy it. I coax him into telling me these experiences.

I show him my admiration in every way possible: with my words, my eyes and my hands. Anywhere we happen to be I’m likely to feel the urge to touch the bulge in his trousers, and if we have enough privacy I take it out and play with it. Since he has a long loose foreskin and a bulging glans, there’s lots to play with. I kiss it to make it slick. I love the feel of it in my mouth, and he always wants to position me so that he can watch my lips enfold him and stroke him deeply. My being an expert “organist” is one of our favorite private jokes.

I’ve had enough experience to know that not every man has a weakness for flattery in this department. Each man is built differently and this allows him to see a special charm in the way he’s formed. I’m sure you probably like what your own man has. If so, make sure he knows it too. This is endearment where it counts!— A.R., Illinois


I’d like to share an experience my boyfriend and I recently had. We’d been seeing each other for about seven months. Then we were parted for a month and the reunion turned out to be well worth the wait. We decided to go to a sleazy motel to unleash our passions. We relaxed for a bit, smoked a joint and watched a porn movie. He kissed me up and down my body as he undressed me. When he finally removed my panties he found that my juices were flowing heavily. Then he undressed and laid me down on the bed. He teased me with his tongue, making his way down to my waiting cunt. He licked my hot pussy, teasing my clit until I reached a climax. Then I told him that it was his turn as I took his cock into my mouth and gave him the pleasure I had just received.

I lay beside him after he came and he rubbed and licked my breasts, making my nipples harden again. His fingers found my pussy and he slowly inserted a finger, making me gasp. He rubbed my clit lightly until my whole body ached for his cock. I moved down, leaving a trail of kisses on his chest. I sucked him until he was hard and then I moved back up and eased his cock into my tight pussy. I came immediately. I picked up the pace a bit and our breathing became more rapid. We came together as he shot a load of sweet come deep inside me.

I was resting beside him when he reached over and rubbed my thighs, finding his way to the place where the most pleasure is. I was soon aroused and he was ready for another round, too. I climbed on top of him and had at it. After several orgasms, I lay on my side next to him thinking that our fantastic night had come to an end. Little did I know. . . .

He put two fingers into my throbbing pussy and slowly stroked me, rubbing my ass at the same time and making me hot with desire. His caresses came faster as I begged him to fuck me. He rolled me over onto my stomach and licked me from my vagina to my ass. He positioned me on all fours and obliged me by fucking me doggie style. That night we made it to round five and, as you can imagine, I left feeling very satisfied.— A.N., Ohio


After reading a letter in your magazine, my boyfriend became obsessed with having sex on an airplane. He had tried it once before but at the last moment his partner chickened out. So, naturally, I had to prove to him that I was a much more adventurous woman than she was.

As this past summer came to an end we decided to spend the last sunny days on a vacation in the U.S. Virgin Islands. The pamphlet said the flight was three and a half hours. Bud wondered how we would pass the time, but I could already feel the wetness between my legs since I knew exactly what would make this a memorable trip. After our plane took off it was evident that there were plenty of empty seats. We moved to the last row in the back by the two bathrooms. The couple across from us were young and lost in their conversation, so I wasn’t worried about them seeing the two of us enter the small bathroom together.

Just thinking about Bud entering me (because that moment is a favorite for both of us) was a real turn on. I could feel my juices flowing even as the drinks were being served. I wanted to get him rock hard, so I got a blanket down from the overhead compartment. I was able to cover his torso and my head quite well by putting the arm rests away and laying across the seats. I was, of course, dressed appropriately for this occasion in a mini dress with no underwear Bud had a pair of sweatpants on.

I pulled his cock out and sucked on it until he was hard. I continued alternately licking and sucking him while rubbing his balls with one hand and holding the blanket with the other. Before long he gently pulled my head up. “I want to come inside of you,” he whispered. I got up and went into the bathroom first without locking the door. About 20 seconds later he came in. The bathroom was tiny and not too clean, but I decided to overlook this drawback. The Forum letter Bud had read described some awkward scene where the man sat down on the toilet and the woman straddled him. I looked at the toilet and shook my head. It was just wrong. I had to come up with a better idea.

I lifted up the hem of my dress and sat on the edge of the sink. Bud slid down his sweatpants and his swollen cock moved close. I was ready for him, having gotten a big thrill out of going down on my lover practically in front of planeload of people and passing flight attendants. I was more swollen and juicier than usual because of that and his dick slid right in. By walking my high heeled feet up the opposite wall until they were level with his waist, I had good leverage to move along with his thrusts. We were then locked into a good, deep pounding rhythm that wouldn’t have been possible seated on the toilet.

I was sure that our moans couldn’t be heard outside the door as he pounded in and out of me, but the thrill of being caught was great. We both came together and I could feel the come running down to my ass. Bud pulled his cock out and I licked the come off like I always do when he’s not too sensitive from the fuck. Then it was time to go back. He went out first and wouldn’t you know there was a line waiting for the bathroom?

I came out next trying to fake air sickness, but people looked more shocked than fooled.

I sat down in my seat and we both laughed. “The sink,” Bud said. “What a great idea.” I smiled for the rest of our long flight, feeling like a self satisfied adventuress.— A.B., New Jersey


I’m a 21 year old transvestite who makes very good money giving blowjobs to men in their cars. With my trim five foot seven inch figure and long mane of dark hair (my own), I have no trouble finding plenty of eager cocks.

I often wonder how many of them suspect they have been sucked off by another guy.

One night last week a guy pulled up in a station wagon and waved me in. He was 30ish, slightly balding but still thin he probably had a wife and two point four kids in the suburbs. After a short negotiation, we drove to a dark side street to conduct business.

To my surprise we started kissing most guys have their dicks out before they stop the car. It was a nice change of pace so I just relaxed and had some fun. After a few minutes I reached down and undid his pants. His dick popped up and it only took a few seconds before he came violently into my greedy mouth. We talked for a while and shared a joint I had brought with me. Before I knew it we were once again sucking tongues like mad and he was delicious! I knew I had to make my move.

I slowly pushed him down on the car seat with me half on my knees on top of him. I undid his pants again and instead of telling him, I took his hand and placed it first on his crotch and then on my own. His eyes shot open and his cock died almost instantly. He struggled to get up, but he was trapped half under the steering wheel and half under me. I continued to press my tongue home. Soon he stopped squirming and his cock began to stiffen again until he was as hard as iron. I started asking him through his moans to return the favor and suck me, but he kept saying no. Eventually, though, he reached down, pulled my skirt up and my panties down and tentatively began rubbing my rod. Before long he was pumping me as if my cock were his own. He quickly brought me to the edge but I wanted more so I jumped up and scampered over to the other side of the car. I took my skirt and panties off and leaned back against the car door. I spread my legs wide with my cock standing proudly between them. This was the moment of decision for him, so I said, “Come and get it, lover. We both know how badly you want it.” He paused for a second and then almost dove across the car and down on me, sucking like a madman. I bucked furiously as he tried to hold on, sucking all the while. I came deeply and quickly, half on his face and half in his open mouth.

I was delighted to find out that I was his first man. I wanted to do more, but he didn’t have enough time that night. He said he enjoyed meeting me he must have, because he’s coming over to my apartment this weekend. He wants to try a 69 next, but I have the feeling that will only be the beginning.— L.D., Ontario


I’ve enjoyed Forum with its alluring articles and stimulating letters since the ’70s. My former lover Rachel and I enjoyed having sex in public places. The chance of being caught in public only made us more passionate. We enjoyed making love in cars, movie theaters, and in her parents’ house. We’re separated now, but the memories of her are still quite vivid.

One especially fond memory is of an event that happened in the local park. We’d been walking across a ridge that overlooked the pond and were sitting in the gazebo for a rest. We started to kiss and pet each other. After a few minutes of teasing, Rachel said that she needed my dick in her. We heard some voices of people walking up the path, but I wanted my prick inside her tight, wet pussy as much as she did. I reached under her skirt to find her cunt sopping wet. She licked my ear and whispered, “Make love to me now!”

I pulled her into the bushes about ten feet from the gazebo and cautioned her that we would have to keep it quiet. I pulled her panties off and stuffed them into my pocket, then pulled my pants down to my knees as I heard the people walking less than five feet away. They went to the gazebo and sat while I dove into her bush, licking up and down her slit. She reached down to lift my head up, her signal for me to stick it in her. She drew her knees back to her chest as she lay on her back— our favorite position, allowing maximum penetration.

As I fucked her, we could hear the group of people getting restless. Some were wandering around. I covered her mouth with mine as she started to moan, and I continued to pump in and out of her, slowly and gently. At last we heard the people leave, and I pumped into her until she gasped loudly, “I love your big dick!”

We continued for the next few minutes while she moaned, “Harder, please. Fuck me harder.” I banged her tight, wet, slippery pussy and she panted in time with my increasing speed. I felt her pussy tighten, gripping my cock as she screamed, “Wet me!” and she came.

I pushed my dick deep into her and squirted my sperm into her womb, holding her tight. “I love making love to you with the blue sky and clouds above us,” she said. My soft dick slipped out of her and we rearranged our clothes. We crept out of the bushes and walked down the path, catching up to the group of strangers that had almost discovered us fucking near the gazebo. “It’s a beautiful day,” I said to them. Sneaking a quick glance at Rachel’s leg, I could see my come streaming down.— N.B., Connecticut

In Memoriam: Bob Guccione, 1930 2010

Like most big ideas, Penthouse had small beginnings in the mind of one extraordinarily complicated man— a 34 year old Brooklyn born artist and cartoonist named Robert Charles Joseph Edward Sabatini Guccione. Although Vanity Fair magazine called Penthouse “among the greatest success stories in the history of magazines,” it was far from a sure thing. As an article in Fortune magazine noted in 1975: “Financing the magazine’s debut [in London in 1965] was a nerve racking business, for Guccione was unable to raise any capital, apart from a few thousand dollars contributed by his devoted father.

“An action was started against him under Section 11 of the Post Office Act for sending indecent matter through the post. He contrived, however, to avoid the summonses until the mailing was completed. He simply remained holed up in his house for a fortnight while two police officers awaited him on the street. All the while he received the proofs of his magazine through the letter box and consulted with his tiny staff over the phone. Then he emerged, stood trial, and was fined. The publicity was a great boon, and the first issue of the magazine, which had a press run of 120,000 copies, sold out within a few days of its appearance.”

Four years later, with a cover price of 75 cents and a print run of 225,000, financed entirely by high debt and higher hopes, the first American issue of Penthouse sold out in a matter of days in September 1969. But it wasn’t just a public relations stunt that created a magazine that became a global brand name recognized in every country in the world. In many ways Penthouse not only reflected its times perfectly but anticipated them as well. Because of the magazine’s reach, longevity, and uncompromising attitudes, it can be said that Penthouse has to this day influenced Americans’ sexual tastes.

When it came to the selection of models, Guccione— who, as Rolling Stone described him, “carrie[d] himself with an imperial swagger, shoulders back, head high: a Roman ruler sauntering to the lip of a balcony to survey his subjects” — had a more cosmopolitan taste than Playboy‘s Hugh Hefner, preferring natural over surgically enhanced sex appeal, giving Penthouse an artistic edge and pictorial versatility. Joe Brooks, Guccione’s first art director, told Rolling Stone that “Bob used light like a master painter, but he has an incredibly dirty mind. It’s a beautiful combination.”

At the end of his career, Guccione elaborated: “We followed the true philosophy of voyeurism. To invade privacy. To see [a woman] as if she doesn’t know she’s being seen. That was the sexy part. That was the part that none of our competition understood.”

In the early 1970s Guccione pioneered full frontal nudity, although the spirit of the laid back, pot smoking high times was reflected in the sensual, soft lens look of his famous photographs of casually clad models languidly looking away from the camera. The early ’80s brought bolder, sharper focus to the pictorials, and as American women continued to shed their inhibitions (and their pubic hair) and claim their right to sexual satisfaction, Penthouse was the first erotic magazine to expose the clitoris.

The models no longer looked lost in reverie or naively unaware of the camera’s presence— they flaunted their sexuality with unprecedented exhibitionism, actively engaging the consumer in the erotic fantasy encounter. And Guccione gloried in his readers’ obsession with his photos. For many years, he’d unveil each new Pet of the Year with a photo of the girl sitting on his lap. “Nice work if you can get it!” he’d gloat, quoting the old Gershwin song. And millions of readers loved it.

Guccione capitalized on the magazine’s success and notoriety by going into the movie business. In 1979, Caligula— to this day, the world’s most extravagant X rated film— opened in New York. Starring Malcolm McDowell, Helen Mirren, John Gielgud, and Peter O’Toole, it was based on a Gore Vidal screenplay, took almost two years to shoot, and cost over $17 million dollars. In true Guccione fashion, the film engendered litigation with almost everyone connected with it— especially the director, Tinto Brass, who resented, among other things, that Guccione had inserted a long lesbian scene into his film. Despite almost universal critical condemnation, the movie, opening with a record high $7.50 ticket price, had lines around the block and continued to sell well for over 30 years— in VHS, DVD, and Blu ray versions.

Guccione’s boldness often paid off with headline making publishing coups. The September 1984 anniversary issue with nude photos of Vanessa Williams, the first black Miss America, sold out its print run of 5,643,370 almost immediately. In 1992 an eager American audience snapped up millions of copies of an issue featuring a nude photo layout of Gennifer Flowers, the onetime mistress of Bill Clinton. Other best selling issues include nudes of a young Madonna years before her fame “honeymoon” photos of controversial ice skater Tonya Harding seminude photos of Presidential accuser Paula Jones and many, many others.

Guccione was determined, however, for Penthouse to make its mark with much more than just its erotic photography. For him, the magazine’s journalistic mission was to bring out the truth and shake up the establishment. From its earliest days Penthouse covered stories the mainstream media avoided and commissioned investigative articles on the U.S. government, the Mafia, the pharmaceutical industry, and the cancer research establishment.

For two years in a row Penthouse won the top article award from the most prestigious writers’ group in America, the American Society of Journalists and Authors. In 1997 Penthouse was cited for publishing the best investigative article of the year, an expos of the government’s cover up of what really happened to soldiers in the Gulf War. In the previous year the magazine won two reporting awards from the ASJA— for best investigative reporting and for best medical writing— after exposing how HMOs mistreat patients and doctors alike.

Guccione’s proudest journalistic achievement was his constant editorial support of America’s fighting men and women, which he started in 1974 with a monthly series of articles examining the nation’s betrayal of Vietnam veterans. Guccione didn’t care if the war was unpopular or even justified— the fact that thousands of GIs were losing their lives and many more were physically and psychologically impacted and then abandoned by the very government that had sent them to war enraged him. The articles in Penthouse, along with lobbying by an office he set up in Washington, D.C., to fight for veterans’ rights, helped to begin turning the country around. People who had shunned and castigated returning warriors as “baby killers” realized that they were scapegoating people who were really American heroes.

These articles— for and by Vietnam veterans— prompted Brandeis University to name Guccione Publisher of the Year in 1975, saying he was a “new force in the world of publishing. . . . He has increasingly focused his editorial attention on such critical issues as the welfare of veterans and problems of criminality in modern society.”

For most of his career, Guccione’s instinct in promoting Penthouse was uncanny. When in the 1990s the Unabomber (Ted Kaczynski) offered to stop his killing spree if someone would publish his manifesto, Guccione immediately made the offer. Although Kaczynski turned him down, Penthouse and Guccione were featured in dozens of international news reports. Guccione published Kaczynski’s rejection letter in the magazine along with his response: “I cannot accept your characterization that Penthouse is strictly an entertainment magazine. . . . Over the years, Penthouse . . . has attacked and exposed elements of every well entrenched power base in the country, from government and religion to big business and organized crime. . . . I’ve been sued, pursued, and shot at, but I haven’t killed anybody. . . . yet!”

But of course the magazine’s incredible success has primarily been built on its sexy, beautiful, art inspired photography, which transformed the world of erotica. As Rolling Stone put it: “Guccione’s Penthouse made sex look like something that happens between real adults (who weren’t your parents). . . . It was the adult magazine that wormed its way into the kinkier recesses of the libidinal subconscious and, arguably, did more to liberate puritan America from its deepest sexual taboos than any magazine before or since.”

Some people were surprised when they learned that as a teenager, the future liberator of puritan America had actually joined a seminary to study for the priesthood. But Guccione himself acknowledged that his fascination with sexuality was tinged with the idea that it was somehow sinful. A friend from Guccione’s childhood days recalls his mother hiding succulent Italian chocolates beneath the flowing gown of a living room statue of the Madonna. “When Bob got a good report from school,” the friend said, “he was allowed to pluck a candy from beneath her robe.” Years later, after plucking millions of dollars from readers’ obsession with sex, Guccione acknowledged how vital it was that men retain a sense of shame about their prurient interests. “We’ve published lots of articles about how ‘natural’ sex is,” he said. “But God forbid everyone believe that. We’d be out of business in a heartbeat!”

When right wing Moral Majority types mounted a crusade against men’s magazines in the 1980s, Guccione wasn’t surprised. “Every season is open season on sex. There’s an old political adage: ‘When in doubt, attack sex. It always works.’”

When adult toys entered mainstream culture in the ’90s, Penthouse was one of the first magazines to utilize them in erotic pictorials, portraying women as active pursuers of autoerotic pleasures. As the internet opened a Pandora’s box of paraphiliac photography, Penthouse‘s own images likewise became edgier, kinkier, and more revealing than ever. Responding to readers’ requests and fueling their fetish fantasies, Guccione introduced imagery of erect penises, orgies, and bondage and sadomasochism in the late ’90s. By the beginning of the new millennium, no fetish had been left unexplored on the internet— or in the pages of Penthouse. But in the end, it was too much.

“The internet drove Bob to expose it all, but consumers grew satiated with the perverse, discovering that seeing less leaves more for the erotic mind,” says Dr. Victoria Zdrok, Penthouse‘s sex columnist and 2004 Pet of the Year. Internet saturation with explicit imagery and the growing popularity of lad mags, such as Maxim and FHM, featuring scantily clad babes, led Penthouse once again to morph its portrayal of the female form, abandoning the grainy fetish along with the anatomical close ups.

Ironically, despite earning hundreds of millions of dollars and being listed in Forbes magazine’s list of the world’s richest men, Guccione was a poor businessman. With the possible exception of his wife, Kathy Keeton, he trusted no one’s advice. “When someone tells me I’m wrong,” he’d say, “I know I’m right.” He remembered that some people said that Penthouse would never work. He forgot the dozens of other ventures that he was warned against and that ended up as disasters. As a former business adviser told Rolling Stone: “He simply believes what people tell him. You say, ‘Bob, I can get green cheese from the moon, and I think it would sell here.’ He’ll say, ‘You think so? I can do a marketing plan!’” This led him to get involved with dozens of misguided ventures, among which were schemes to invent fusion energy, selling Muhammad Ali”"brand powdered milk in Africa, various cures for cancer and nutritional supplements and, most disastrously, spending $150 million to build a hotel/casino in Atlantic City. Late in life, as his empire crumbled around him, he admitted to New York magazine: “I’ve never held on to my money. I gave it away.”

Finally, Guccione’s stubbornness and disastrous business sense cost him dearly: He lost everything he owned and had to surrender his beloved magazine. Marc Bell, one of the magazine’s current owners, saluted the founder and determined to build and enhance his creation. “Ask any man over 18, ‘What is Penthouse?’” Bell says, “and they will tell you what it means. . . . Bob Guccione built a tremendous brand that’s known around the world. He was a creative genius.”

Classic Forum


My wife, Pam, works as a lawyer, and I’m a schoolteacher. Although Pam makes a lot more money than I do, it doesn’t bother me, because at home she’s my bondage slave— and a very willing one at that. She loves relaxing at home, content in the knowledge that she has to do nothing more than submit to my every desire. She knows her body is my favorite hobby, and she loves the attention I lavish upon it. Among other things, I pluck her eyebrows, shave her armpits and legs and keep her pretty pussy hair neatly trimmed.

I also make sure she stays sexy and in excellent shape by seeing to it that she works out every single night. After supper, I strip her naked and take her down to the rec room in our basement, where she works out for at least one solid hour. To make sure she keeps at it, I crack a whip across her ass every once in a while. I keep the heater on to make sure that she sweats a lot, too. The sight of her sweat trickling down between her jiggling tits all the way to her cunt always stimulates me.

When she’s finished exercising, I take her up to our bedroom and tie her spread eagled to the bed. After blindfolding her, I dab perfume on her tits and above her pussy. The perfume mixes with her sweat to give her a really intoxicating scent. Exhausted from her workout, she lies passively on the bed as I start turning her on by stroking her pussy or nibbling on her perky nipples. It isn’t long before she starts bucking her hips and moaning for my cock, but only after she’s begged me for it, using the word “please” nearly a dozen times, do I plunge my rod into the wet softness of her clasping vagina.

After fucking her, I take her into the bathroom and tie her hands above her head and attach them to a hook in the ceiling of the shower. Then I turn the water on and finger fuck her pussy and asshole as the shower spray cleanses her sweat stained body. After drying her off, I take her back into the bedroom and place her on top of the bed. She’s now ready to go to sleep, but I make sure that her hands are tied behind her back or looped around the bedposts for the night. Of course I make sure that I give her enough slack so that she isn’t uncomfortable I wouldn’t want her to suffer through any sleepless nights. Besides, what good would she be to me if she were exhausted?

On weekends, I give her special treats. Sometimes I strip her naked and then tie her spread eagled on the lawn out in the backyard so she gets a nice overall tan. Together we drink a six pack of beer, and I follow that up with watching her perform a long exercise routine, longer than her usual weeknight workouts. Then I bring her into the house and tie her hands above her head to a hook in the basement ceiling. I put an anal plug into her ass, a dildo in her pussy and clamps on her nipples. After an hour or so, she is trembling from the extreme pleasure. She is desperate to pee, her arms are sore and her nipples ache, but when she starts to plead for mercy, I simply put a ball gag in her mouth. Even then, she mumbles her desires, but I’m patient with her.

Concentrating first on her tits and then on her pussy, I rub body oil on her quivering flesh. Soon the pleasure and pain become overwhelming and she explodes in orgasm, her pee running down her legs as her body is racked by the ecstasy of her climax. Afterward I untie her, give her a hot shower, massage her sore muscles and then fuck her. There’s nothing more exciting to me than slipping my cock in her wet, willing cunt, especially when I’ve been hard throughout all of our little “exercises.” Then she’s allowed to take a nap.

Next month, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I’m going to have her labia pierced so that she can wear a small diamond ring on her pussy as a symbol of her complete submission to me. She’s looking forward to this as much as I am.— C.Y., Arizona


Until recently, all my vacations were spent going on trips to different places with family. But now that I’m in college and far from home, my free time is mine to spend any way I like. And this year I experienced my wildest spring break ever.

I’m a senior at a California state university and I’m in a sorority. I’d been on long weekends to Cabo San Lucas with my sorority sisters and some frat guys we know, but nothing could compare to our spring break trip to Palm Springs.

We had a whole week to blow off work and hang out in Palm Springs, but we didn’t have a lot of money to spend, so we tried to figure out a way to take a vacation on the cheap. One of my sorority sisters somehow managed to wangle her parents’ condo, and we were on our way! We all piled our bags into my VW convertible and Vicki’s BMW and hit the highway. It was only a few hours till we were cresting the mountains and looking down at a vast expanse of desert with a big green square smack in the middle. The line between sand and sprinklered lawn was so distinct that it looked like a fairy tale land plopped in the middle of nowhere.

We arrived at the condo complex with whoops and hollers, and quickly unpacked the cars and the cases of beer and wine coolers we had picked up along the way. In no time at all, all us girls were wearing our sexiest bikinis and headed out across the damp golf course in search of the Jacuzzi. Beers in hand, we discovered it— full of sexy, buff guys!

They all turned as we arrived, giggling and chattering, and waved us closer. “Hey, ladies! Come and join us!” Without a thought, we wedged ourselves between their muscular thighs and settled into the warm, bubbling water. I closed my eyes and barely had a chance to sigh, “This is what vacations are all about,” when the guy next to me began massaging my shoulders.

“Yup,” he said, in a voice that made me as hot as the water gurgling around us, “vacations are all about relaxing and letting go.”

He kneaded every knot of stress, working the tension out of my shoulders and neck, and then he began working his way down my chest. I opened one eye to see exactly where this was leading— as if I didn’t already know— and was only slightly surprised to see the other guys sliding their hands all over my friends’ slippery bodies. As for their hands, well, they were under the water, and I could only imagine what they were doing. But to tell you the truth, I didn’t have to imagine. . . .

I slyly groped under the water to find my neighbor’s crotch, just to see if he had the same one track mind I do. Once my hand brushed against the nice hard on pressing against his trunks, I decided that he did indeed.

I glanced around and, knowing that the rest of them were no doubt doing the same thing, slid my hand inside his suit. His fingers had discovered my nipple, which was stiff as hell despite the heat radiating from the swirling water. I was already panting, and when I wrapped my hand around this guy’s cock, he groaned softly and leaned close.

“Let’s go find a bed before the rest of them beat us to it,” he whispered in my ear. I boosted myself up onto the side of the Jacuzzi and offered him a hand out. We made a dash across the lawn just as the sun was slipping behind the palm trees. Anyone watching us from their patio would have had no trouble figuring out why we were in such a rush. The guy, whose name was Kevin, by the way, had a hard on that just wouldn’t quit, and he was horny as hell. I was practically half out of my suit by the time we even got to the condo.

Kevin and I didn’t even make it to the bedroom. I stripped off my bathing suit top and kicked my bottoms aside the second I stepped inside the condo. Kevin entered the apartment right behind me, and as soon as the front door shut behind us, he scooped me up in his arms and set me down on top of the cool marble of the kitchen counter.

After sliding his tongue up and down my pussy a few strokes, stopping to nibble on my stiffening clit, he shoved his still dripping trunks to his knees and spread my thighs apart. I slid my pussy down to meet his hard cock and he rammed it in with a loud grunt. Soon we were humping like crazy people, right there under the stark kitchen lights.

He was hot and hard, and he fucked me but good. Right before he came, he pulled out and gave his cock a few hard jerks. Then he erupted, splashing his seed all over my belly and my damp, curly pubic hair. That drove me wild no one had ever come on me before.

I was still marveling at the sight of his come trickling along my skin when we heard the others come back to the complex, shrieking and laughing outside. We grabbed our swimsuits and slipped into the bathroom.

We showered and fucked again, this time with me bent over, the shower spray slashing across our backs. I made Kevin come on my ass that time. It slid off in the spray, but it felt delicious nevertheless.

That was only the first night of our weekend in Palm Springs. Let’s just say that the rest of it went along in the same vein!— C.S., California


I’d been fantasizing about my boss, Sherri, ever since she interviewed me for the job as a career counselor at a local college. I was 35, and Sherri was 11 years older, but she still had a fantastic body along with auburn hair and a baby face that made her look younger than she was. She also had great legs, and she usually wore short skirts to show them off, but even the few times I saw her in pants I couldn’t help getting a hard on from looking at her round ass. She drove me crazy.

After I had been working there for a year, my dreams about Sherri actually came true. It happened quite unexpectedly while we were working late one night. She called me into her office to look at something on her computer screen. As we talked about the article she had up, she kept reaching around and rubbing her neck. I decided to be daring and started to massage her shoulders. “That’s just what I need,” she murmured.

My cock was getting hard from being so close to her, so I decided, What the hell, I can always get another job if this backfires. Then, with my heart pounding, I spun her chair around and kissed her deeply. To my surprise, she actually reciprocated. We began tearing off each other’s clothes and exploring each other’s body with our hands.

When we were both naked I knelt down, grabbed her ass and pulled her honeypot to my mouth. I licked her mound and she began to moan. After a while I stood back up and she knelt down. As she slowly took my thick, engorged cock in her warm mouth, I had to fight to keep myself from coming too quickly. She ran her tongue around the head, then slowly slid her mouth up and down my shaft. She gradually picked up speed, grabbing my ass with her hands and pumping me as my cock slid in and out between those beautiful red lips.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore I grabbed her head with my hands and exploded into her mouth. She expertly swallowed every drop. After I stopped gasping, I lay her down on her back on the floor and buried my face in her tasty pussy, eating her out like there was no tomorrow. She came twice, bucking and whimpering and twisting under my mouth.

Working with Sherri was the best job I ever had!— L.J., Texas


I’m a regular at a local health spa, and one morning after my workout, I had to get ready for a luncheon date with a girlfriend. I went down to the locker room only to discover that a plumbing problem had developed and the women’s showers were closed until a plumber could come and take care of the necessary repairs to the pipes.

I was upset at the prospect of having to drive all the way back home to shower— which would probably make me miss my lunch date— so I went down to see if any there were any other arrangements that could be made. The guy at the desk said he couldn’t think of any options, but the manager suggested that I could use the men’s staff locker room if I would hurry. He told me that he’d lock the door to ensure my privacy.

I quickly stripped and entered the large open shower area, enjoying the soothing hot spray of water that beat down on me. I’ve always taken long, leisurely showers and was getting a little turned on thinking about the hunks who worked at the spa and got naked in this very shower. I was caught up in my fantasy when suddenly I heard a man’s voice say, “What are you doing in here?” I was shocked. I spun around and found myself facing Mark, the club’s masseur, a very well built, tall black man. Mark was naked and my eyes quickly scanned over his beautiful body.

Mark started to say something else, but I didn’t hear him as I was focusing on the largest cock I had ever seen in my life. Mesmerized by the ebony monster dangling down between his legs, I immediately knelt down in front of him to get a closer look at that big dream cock.

I’d never been with a black man before, but when I started to fondle his tremendous organ, I knew that I was going to have him no matter what. Mark muttered a few weak protests about us getting caught, but I paid no attention and kept working on his shaft. As I kissed and sucked his magnificent cock, I felt like a wanton whore, not caring if we got caught. All I wanted was to feel that black monster cock in my tight, pink, dripping wet pussy.

I could barely get the head of his cock in my mouth, and my hand could just about reach all the way around the base. I was beginning to wonder how I was going to take this giant into my tiny pussy. I am only five foot three, weighing 108 pounds, so I wasn’t sure how it would work out, but by then no one would have been able to stop me in my pursuit of Mark’s monster black cock.

Mark lifted me with his massive arms and carried me over to a massage table, where I sat with my legs spread. I was panting as he placed his cockhead against my slippery pussy. I wrapped my arms around his body and slowly pulled him right up against me, forcing his big cock further into my little twat. I couldn’t believe how far my pussy was stretched or how wonderfully sluttish I felt begging this black stud to fuck me with his giant dick. I’d never acted like such a whore before, but it was the greatest feeling in the world, I was sure of it!

Mark put his hands behind my ass and started to pump into me as I moaned and begged for more. Mark asked me, as he pulled out some and stopped his pumping, if I liked his big black cock. I replied, “I love your gorgeous cock. Please, fuck me any way you want. Fuck me!”

He started ramming that thick monster into my pussy as hard as he could, my body flailing around like a rag doll. I lost count of how many orgasms I had and was almost in a semiconscious state when he finally erupted inside me. It felt as if my womb was filled with come as I lay back on the table, exhausted and ecstatically happy.

When Mark pulled out his prick of me, I was weak and I couldn’t seem to make my legs steady enough to stand, but he helped me back to the shower and washed my weary body clean, then dried me off. As I came back to reality, I caressed his semiflaccid but still large cock. Needless to say, I missed my lunch appointment.

I called Mark later that night to thank him and to tell him that I wanted another one of his “extra special” massages as soon as he could “fit me in.” — B.Y., Pennsylvania