Then we both passed out. We woke up laughing, his laughter matching mine until our mouths met in a long, wet, come-mixed kiss. Then we got into the shower and fucked standing up. Afterward, he carried me to the bed, and we slept until dark.
I woke up in the early evening, his erection against my rump. I eased it in while he slept, fucking him with my cunt muscles, and he came in his sleep, even though his eyes opened and looked into mine as he did, his orgasm matching my own—heaven!
He spent the night, and the next, and after three days, we were together. Needless to say, the work on the house is progressing slowly, but I am his apprentice. He is teaching me about renovation and about all the positions and techniques of advanced fucking. I am teaching him a few of my own talents. He is the kind of man every woman dreams of—a stud, a stallion, a lover, a friend, intelligent, fearless, a great sense of humor, and heaven to sleep with.
—M. G., California
Hired Help
I am not an avid reader of your magazine, but I have read a letter or two from your “Forum” section. The letters always seemed a bit far-fetched to me, and I believed that they were only the imagination of a lonely soul. But after this event, I am a firm believer, and would like to share it with your readers.
I am recently married, and am now living up north. I am from a small Southern town, and I left all my friends to move to Pennsylvania. My husband is away a lot—his job takes him out of state for days at a time.
On this particular weekend, my husband was out of town, and I was getting our town house painted by Tai and Ray. I was very bored, so I decided to go through my summer clothes. I found one of my favorite outfits that I thought I had lost. Wondering if it still fit, I decided to try it on. As I started to undress, I felt as if I was being watched. On the closet door in my bed-room I have a full-length mirror, and in the mirror I saw the reflection of the two painters standing on the scaffolding outside my bedroom window.
Knowing they were watching my every move, I decided to give them a show. Wearing only my French-cut panties, I grabbed the feather duster from my closet. Propping one leg up on a shelf, I ran the duster up the back of my leg, starting at my ankle, then over my calf and across my long, silky thigh. I started to work the duster back and forth across the crotch of my panties. I soon forgot who I was doing this for, as I was very much into the pleasure I was giving myself. As I ran the duster over my belly and to the undersides of my breasts, the tingling sensation from the feathers sent a wave of chills across my body, which made the nipples of my large tits stick out. Then all of a sudden, I heard a loud thud, and that made me remember my Peeping Toms.
Throwing a robe on, I headed to the window. I asked them if they were okay. Tai had twisted his ankle. I told them to come in and that I’d be back with some ice. When I returned I told Tai to take off his boot so I could check it out. He was reluctant, saying that he thought it would be all right. Finally, he did, though. As I removed his sock, I told him that it didn’t look like there was anything wrong, but that I’d better check some more to make sure nothing was swollen. My hands made their way up his pants to his crotch, and I said, “Well now, this seems to be very swollen. . . . And I know just how to fix it.” The two men gave each other high fives and were out of their clothes in a heartbeat. I took off my robe and panties and got down on my knees in front of Tai. His cock was brick-hard and pointed straight up, with a slight curve to it. His cock was on the small side, so I was able to take all of it in my mouth.
As I sucked Tai’s cock, I felt Ray slide between my thighs and lower me onto his face. His tongue worked masterfully on my dripping pussy. After a few minutes of this, they wanted to switch positions. Tai lay on his back and I straddled his head, rubbing my juices on his face. Ray stood in front of me. When he pulled his shorts down, one of the biggest cocks I’d ever seen leaped out at me. It was at least eight inches of thick, dark meat. Being a woman who loves big cocks, I eagerly took his pole into my mouth. I have been told that I am an expert cocksucker, but I was only able to get about half of it in. I sucked his cock hard, and Tai licked my pussy for about twenty minutes. Needing something hard inside me, I turned around, and Ray slid his huge black cock into my pussy. My cunt felt as if it would split end to end as his dick filled every inch of it. I felt something rise inside me. My whole body was an active volcano, and I erupted into an incredible orgasm. I think I had four fabulous orgasms that day. As I started to get hot and wet again, I told them to get up and jack off. My juices started to flow as I watched them stroke their cocks. Tai was moaning like crazy as come flew from the head of his cock and landed all over my tits. As he massaged his come into my tits with his cock, Ray put his hand on my face and turned me toward him. His cock was only inches from my lips as he pumped it furiously. Being what you could call a junkie, I wanted every drop of his come. He jammed his dick into my mouth, and I felt the hot come splashing in my mouth. Not wanting to waste a drop, I sucked every bit of his cock. There was so much come, it seeped out of the corners of my mouth. Ray used his finger to scrape up what was on my chin, and I licked it off his finger. After lying on each other for a few moments, they put their clothes back on and headed out the window to finish their work. I just stayed there for a while, savoring the taste in my mouth and the smell of sex in the air. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed living it.
—L. D., Pennsylvania
Turnabout
For the past four years, I’ve earned extra money as a phone-sex operator. Most of the callers want me to do all the talking, but last week a very special man named Jack called, and here’s how it went. . . .
Me: Hi, Jack. My name’s Roxanne, and I’m twenty-two years old. I’m five-foot-two, with red hair, long legs, a small, round ass, and big tits. I’m a C cup, and my measurements are—
Jack: Do you like to have your pussy licked?
Me: Yes. I—
Jack: I bet you do. I’d love to bury my face in your little red cunt. I’d suck your lips into my mouth and run my tongue up and down your slit, stopping only to tickle your little pink clit. Would you like that, Roxanne? [At that point I noticed myself beginning to squirm in my seat. My silk shorts were getting moist. Most callers are passive and let me talk, but Jack barely let me finish a sentence. The role reversal was very exciting.]
Me: Do you like to have your cock sucked, Jack?
Jack: I’d love to run the tip of my seven-and-a-half-inch cock all over your face. You’d be on your knees, naked. I’d sit on the edge of the bed. You would lick the shaft until you got to the tip. Then you’d stand up and sit on my dick. I’d fuck you hard and fast. [By then I had my hand in my shorts, fingering my very wet slit.]
Me: Oh, yes.
Jack: Touch yourself, Roxanne. Fuck your own cunt. Me: I am. Jack: Stick two fingers in. Me: Okay. Jack: Now bring them up to your mouth and lick
them. They taste good, don’t they? Now with your other hand, I want you to pinch your nipple and rub your tit.
Me: Oh God, yes, yes.
Jack: Now keep rubbing your nipple and fucking your cunt. I’m going to come. I’m going to spray it all over your face.
Me: In my mouth, baby. Come in my mouth! [I heard Jack coming for a second, but my own orgasm was too loud for me to hear much more.]
We thanked each other and said good-bye. Jack has yet to call me back, but I’ll bet he’s making some other phone-sex operators as happy and satisfied as he made me.
—R. M., Maryland
Muscle Madness
I work in a men’s clothing store. Having a good Midwestern work ethic, I check every order before sending it to the factory, even those taken by other managers. It was while doing this that I noticed what seemed to be a big mistake.
I found an order for a man who was, apparently, fairly heavy for his height—215 pounds at five-eleven. His neck was over eighteen inches, his chest was fifty-one inches, and his waist was thirty-two inches. Either some of these measurements were wrong, or this guy had one hell of a physique. On the off chance that this was the right information, I knew I wanted to meet this Goliath.
You see, ever since I can remember, I have hid a real weakness for guys with big muscles. I loved to watch all those old
Hercules
movies and pretend that I was the young slave girl who would be rescued by the strength and power of the huge muscle man. More recently, I’ve become a big fan of
American Gladiators
. The sight of those big guys just gets my pussy juices flowing!
I decided to call this guy, Marty, to come back in for a refitting, claiming I wanted to make sure we had all the right information. I said I was the new manager and wanted to take personal responsibility for every aspect of my job. I suggested he stop in sometime near closing. To my delight, he said he appreciated the extra effort and would be happy to stop by the next night after his workout.
Upon hearing him say “workout,” I became over-whelmed with excitement! This was not a potbellied guy—this was, in fact, a real muscle man!
I carefully decided what to wear for my first encounter with a
real
bodybuilder, wanting to show off my very firm, five-foot-five, 115-pound, 37C-23-35 body. I decided on a simple white-silk top that clung to my firm breasts and a short black-leather miniskirt that showed off my great legs. Of course, I wore no bra and my skimpiest panties.
Just around closing the next night, I looked up and saw him. He looked even bigger than I thought he would. He was wearing a Gold’s Gym sweatshirt and baggy muscle pants. His enormous shoulders tapered to the tightest ass you can imagine. He was in his late twenties, about my age, very well groomed, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. His rugged good looks fit the rest of him perfectly.
I thanked him for stopping in and suggested we step into the fitting room to take his measurements. I had to stretch my arms to get the tape measure around his enormous chest. While doing this, I could feel how rock-hard he was. His pecs felt like slabs of granite, his back muscles rippled right through the thick sweat-shirt. Wanting to see more of his body, I thought quickly and pointed out that we could get the best results if he would slip out of his shirt. He was more than willing to accommodate. I think he was catching on to my little game, as he noticed my nipples harden.
It was staggering! I was standing in front of my very own Hercules—deep tan, bulging muscles, and the smoothest skin. This guy was awesome! I continued my job once again, measuring his chest and his tight little waist. I said I wanted to make sure the suit we ordered would have enough room to accommodate his big arms, so I asked him to flex to get the right measurement. As he flexed, I held my breath as the tape stretched to over twenty-one inches.
I couldn’t help myself. I asked him to flex his entire body for me. He was certainly on to me now. It was all I had to say. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped off his muscle pants, revealing the teeniest bright blue bikini briefs. His thighs looked like they were carved out of tree trunks. As he went from one pose to another, I became hotter and hotter. Almost instinctively, without really thinking, I slipped off my top, revealing my big, firm tits. I cupped them gently in my hands, playing with my hard nipples. He smiled as he saw me getting pleasure out of worshiping his huge body. He looked down at my miniskirt. Without saying a word, I knew what he wanted to see. I writhed out of it, stretched my hands above my head, and displayed my body for him. His cock showed me that he liked what he saw.
I moved closer to this mountain of muscle. I got down on my knees and slowly removed the last bit of clothing between my mouth and his cock. His shaft was as well developed as the rest of him. When I took him into my mouth, he groaned with pleasure. As I worked on his muscle shaft, he continued to pump and flex. His body was now covered with a thin film of sweat; it made him even more beautiful. As he flexed and I sucked, we were surrounded by images of ourselves from all angles in the fitting-room mirrors. This added to our excitement, as we got off on our perfect bodies.
I looked up at him and whispered, “I want you to be my Hercules.” He smiled and said that nothing would please him more. He spotted the big chains that we use to secure the security bars on the loading dock. He asked me to wrap them around his enormous chest. I knew exactly what he was doing—he was going to act out one of my favorite scenes from the movies.
As he towered above me, his cock deep in my mouth, I saw him place his hands on his waist and breathe deeply—his chest expanded, his pecs bulged, his lats flared out, and the chains fell from around my Hercules. As he broke free, he came in my mouth. His load was thick and hot, just like his body.
It was incredible. Since that time we have played out many other fantasy scenes. The sex is really great when two gorgeous bodies merge in muscle-crazed passion!
—D. M., Illinois
Cleaning Up
We can finally afford a housecleaning service. That gives me time for myself and some pet projects. But I soon learned another major advantage of having a crew clean my house. In our case, the work is done weekly by two young guys from the Philippines. From day one, I not only admired their easygoing efficiency, but also their exotic faces and muscular bodies. From day two, I not only lusted after them, but also devised a strategy to seduce them.
Cleaning day number three saw me parading around the house with mini cutoffs that exposed part of my cheeks and a flimsy T-shirt that brought out the best of my shapely breasts. The result was almost immediate. One fellow dropped his cleaning bottle and the other bumped into the furniture with the vacuum cleaner. I teasingly scolded them and threatened the appropriate punishment. Their smiles nearly melted the lower part of my body, and I wanted to fuck them right then and there. But I savored a slow approach. I derive much pleasure from the tease and anticipation, as well as from a prolonged, built-up sexual tension.