I sat facing the bar mirror and watching Kathy. My dance partner had his back to the mirror as he watched Kathy and occasionally stole a glance at me. Suddenly I realized his hand, which was previously resting on my knee, was gently stroking me just inside my knee. My skin tingled as I felt the hand move slowly up the inner side of my right leg. I felt hot flashes between my legs and was frozen with sexual tension and fear. He was close to my crotch when I squeezed my legs together to stop his hand. It didn’t move; it just stayed there. Harry leaned over and whispered that I should look at Kathy. So I turned around. My legs parted as I pivoted on the stool, and I saw Kathy drop her bra and stand there with just panties on. A loud cheer went up, and I felt Harry extend his hand and cup my mound with his hand.
While everyone was watching Kathy, I could only think about what was happening to me. I looked down and saw Harry’s arm between my legs and under my skirt. I looked at him, mouth open, unable to speak. He turned to me and smiled.
Again a loud cheer erupted. We both turned to see Kathy roll her panties down over her thighs, exposing her public hair, and step out of them. Then she started to dance again. Harry pushed toward me, his hand between my legs, separating them more. I felt his finger hook my panties, feel the pubic hair, and probe the folds of skin between my legs. I watched his hand under my skirt, and I gasped as he penetrated my vagina.
As I sit here writing, I can still feel his fingers and the excitement. He simply dominated me. Thoughts of my husband and of remaining faithful were overcome by the tension he was creating in me. I had been aroused before by men, but had always been able to control it.
When Harry suggested that we go out to his car, I said we mustn’t go anywhere, believing he was going to take me to a motel. He assured me we’d stay and talk, away from the noise and my friends. I left, worried that they might see us leaving together and that I might have trouble explaining it at work, because I was always considered so straitlaced. But everyone was watching Kathy do her striptease.
Harry and I sat in his car, and he stroked my hair while we talked. He asked about my job, my sex life, my married life, and the dates I’d had. Since I was a virgin when I married, the heaviest petting I had ever done before with anyone but my husband was having my breast squeezed as Harry had done on the dance floor. He asked whether I would mind if he did it again. I hesitated and said things could get out of control. Then, instead of reaching for my breast, he unbuttoned my blouse, talking slowly, saving my nonpromiscuous lifestyle made me something special and different from my friends back in the bar.
Once my blouse was unbuttoned, he pushed it away from my chest and over my shoulders, exposing my bra. His hands were warm as he stroked my sides and my midriff. I was nervous and excited and told him he shouldn’t touch me because I was afraid he would go further. When he reached behind me and unhooked my bra, I said, “Don’t.”
“Lift up your bra,” he commanded. “Lift your bra up.”
I leaned my head back on the headrest and with both hands lifted my bra. As I exposed my breasts, I realized the nipples were taut. I waited for him to touch me. I exposed myself totally, knowing he could see me clearly because of the lights in the parking lot.
Instead of touching me, he bent over and kissed my neck, whispering my name and saying that I was lovely. I felt I was drowning in a flood. I took both of his hands and placed them on my breasts. When he kissed me, I grasped him, seeking out his mouth, kissing him fully and deeply. I felt his hand take mine. I wanted to touch him. Instead, he placed my hands on the $$$ of my skirt and told me to lift it up. I did.
“Are you wet?” he asked.
“Yes,” I told him. “Very wet.”
He held me gently while I slid my head down against the door. Again he took my hands and hooked my panties with his thumbs. I arched my back and slid them off. He slipped off my shoes and nylons.
“Open your legs,” he ordered. I wanted him, but I was nervous and shy. Still, I spread my legs and said, almost choking, “You can do anything you want to me.”
He slid his palms under my thighs and cheeks and lifted them up. I thought he was going to place his mouth on me.
“Take me, all of me,” I pleaded.
I was startled when he turned on the map light, exposing me to close inspection. I was so close to orgasm that fluid was running down my thighs. He placed his thumb and forefinger on the top button of my vagina, squeezing it so he could look deep into my cavern. I had never been so hot as I was then. When he inserted his finger into me, I exploded in the most violent orgasm I’ve ever known. It was so intense, I felt drained and exhausted when it was over. Within me, however, I still felt the need for more.
When he opened the door, the car light went on and I didn’t even bother to cover up. I remember him unbuckling his trousers and sliding them down, and I saw his penis protruding between his shirttails. He reached over and pulled me closer to the open door. I offered no resistance or help as I saw him lean over and felt him slide up into me. I was as loose as a goose. Then I felt his weight on top of me: heavy, lighter, heavy, lighter. Then I felt him come hard, deep inside of me. “Oh, I can feel you come,” I told him.
After a long while his weight and the car light forced us to adjust our postures and reluctantly get dressed. He kissed me again, and I told him I’d never forget him. I never have.
I slept soundly when I was home that night. I was glad everyone was asleep when I got there. The girls from work thought I’d left because Kathy started removing her garments on the dance floor. I never saw Harry again. I was tempted at times to visit his office. Maybe someday I will. I still think of him when my husband has been gone for a while, and when I masturbate, I relive that special evening.—
M.G., Milwaukee, Wis.
FOXY LADY PHONES SPECIAL REQUEST TO HORNY DJ
I work an evening shift at a well-known album rock station in central New York State. Disc jockeys have always been thought to have the wildest sex escapades, but up until one night last week I was a bit skeptical of some of the stories that float around among my fellow DJs.
Of course, those who work the evening shift have an opportunity to spend those late hours keeping lonely, frustrated, and randy females company via radio. I had previously met many chicks, mostly through station promotional appearances, although a few acquaintances have been made through call-in phone conversations. I might add I also have the enviable option of enjoying the company of five excitingly different females at my discretion, individually, for some of the best sex and partying that could ever be imagined.
When a chick calls up and I sense she has more than a Stones request on her mind, I usually continue the conversation, anticipating what might develop. Once in particular a very sexy-sounding female called in for a request, which also happened to be one of my favorites. After a few minutes of small talk, she invited me over after work. Well, I have always turned down those “blind” rendezvous, opting rather to meet first, face-to-face, to avoid any embarrassment on either person’s part. I instead invited her down to the station to get acquainted. She said she didn’t have a car. I began to suspect something was up. She then laid her cards on the table, telling me she was twenty-five, slim, cute, the wife of an out-of-town businessman, and that she was just lonely for some male company to party with and was not into the bar scene.
I agreed and took down her directions. When my shift was over, I jumped in my car and smoked a couple of bowls on the way up (just in case she wasn’t the treat I hoped she’d be), and within minutes I was knocking at her apartment door.
When the door opened, there stood a fox, wearing a sexy nightie and a beaming smile. I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least.
After casual greetings, we went into her living room to relax with a few bowls and some drinks, and we talked for a little while. Feeling quite relaxed, I asked her for a back rub. She obliged and really outdid herself. In the process I stripped down to my jeans.
I insisted that I return the favor, and before I laid one hand on her, her nightie was off, and I had a great look at her in front of me, wearing only a brief pair of panties.
What a body! Nice, pert tits, a slim waist, and a very cute ass; not a hint of fat on her five-foot-seven-inch frame at all: I proceeded to make her comfortable on her tummy, straddling her body and slowly massaging her neck and back and moving on down to her well-rounded ass. I had to laugh to myself, thinking that I must have done something right that day to deserve this.
Slowly I rolled her over and kissed her nipples, which immediately hardened. Her moans were rapid now as I moved my kisses down her belly to her thighs. I peeled her panties off and dived into her wet pussy. I must admit that the following fifteen minutes spent eating her were the best I had to date.
I sensed she agreed. She came maybe seven or eight times. I again began to kiss her all over, and eventually we swapped tongues passionately. My jeans made me feel uncomfortable, so I rose and took them off, with her ready assistance. As soon as my cock was exposed, she took it, fully erect now, and gently began to kiss it, working her tongue all around it, finally deep-throating me. I almost exploded.
Probably sensing this, she lay down in front of the TV, her legs spread wide. She then guided my hot cock to her pussy. As she wrapped her legs around me, I again laughed to myself, hardly able to believe this was really happening. When we both climaxed together, I lay exhausted on her, kissing her neck, and remained in her pussy, never going soft; I was ready for yet another good fuck.
This time I lay on my back and she rode me. I didn’t leave her apartment until the morning, having experienced the most uninhibited and thoroughly exciting sexual pleasures of my twenty-three years.
After a few days thinking about it, I decided to write to you. Oh, what about my call-in date? Well, she phones in a request for her and her old man every day, and that voice still gets me hard just thinking about that cold night that turned red hot. Who knows, we may even get together again someday for a repeat performance. I can tell you that she gets all her requests played! I’d be interested if any female disc jockeys have had similar experiences, and would they mind sharing them?—
J.K., Albany, N.Y.
LONG-LEGGED BLOND MIXES IT UP WITH LUCKY SALESMAN
I’ve read many letters that you’ve published, and one of my experiences is so special that I want to share it. If I didn’t know, better, I’d swear I dreamed this, because it was surely a dream come true.
It happened in a small town in North Dakota. I was there on a sales trip, staying in a motel. One afternoon, I went down to the lounge and sat at the bar. Since I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the beer I was sipping, I barely noticed when someone sat on the stool next to me.
“I haven’t watched ‘My Three Sons’ since I was a little girl,” said the new arrival, referring to the show playing on the TV. I looked up and nearly fell off my stool. Sitting next to me was an incredibly beautiful girl. She had long blond hair and a body that was perfect, with large breasts, a small waist and very long legs. I could tell she was tall, but it wasn’t until later that I learned she stood five feet ten inches.
I started talking with her and learned that she came from Montreal and was traveling to western Canada. She had a French accent, and I melted as she spoke. I couldn’t help but stare at her magnificent breasts, and she must have noticed, because her nipples hardened under the skin-tight sweater that emphasized the shape and size of her bust to the maximum.
During dinner, I learned that she had just left her husband and was planning to return to her career as a model. She explained that she sometimes had difficulty finding modeling jobs because her breasts were so large. I asked if she wanted to come up to my room and smoke a joint after dinner, and she accepted.
As we smoked the Colombian I had rolled, our conversation centered around the effects of marijuana on sex. She explained how the drug increased the intensity of her orgasms, and how she really enjoyed sex after smoking. This sounded as much like an imitation as I’ve ever heard, so I suggested that we go to bed and enjoy the buzz together. At first, she hesitated, explaining that she was concerned about birth control. I had no rubbers with me, but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by. I assured her that I’d be careful not to come inside her, and this put her mind at ease.
I quickly stripped and lay on the bed, while she slowly took off her clothes. She wore no bra, and as she lifted her sweater, I was treated to the sight of the most magnificent breasts I had ever seen. They were shaped like large, firm melons, and their upturned nipples were about the size of a quarter and stood out hard and proud. She slid off her slacks and stood in front of me for a moment, wearing only her panties. She asked if I thought she was attractive enough to resume her modeling career, striking several poses as she spoke. With this sight in front of me, I could hardly speak, but the biggest hard-on of my life gave her my answer. She looked down at it, pulled off her bikini panties, and said, “I want some of that!”
She then joined me on the bed, and the next hour was pure ecstasy. She was able to express her desires like no other woman I’ve known. She showed me how to suck her nipples and caress her clitoris. Taking my hand, she showed me how to touch her in such a way as to give her the most satisfaction. When we kissed, our tongues wrestled. She tongued my chest and my navel, and licked my cock and balls, bringing me to the brink of orgasm several times. She seemed to sense when I was about to come, and each time she would ease up. She spread apart the lips of her vagina as I flipped her clitoris back and forth with my tongue, which caused her to moan loudly with pleasure. I stuck my tongue into her pussy as far as I could, and she began to writhe wildly on the bed. All of a sudden, she screamed, “I’ve got to feel it in me! Please, put it in me!”