Penthouse Letter “Pursuit and Capture”
You can believe it or not, and I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t. It was just one of those rare times in your life when a woman you hardly know shows up in kneehigh fishnet stockings, then pulls out a brand-new can of whipped cream right before she goes to town on your already-hard cock. You know, the kind of moment you spend your life hoping and praying for. Anyway, before I can say the word fuck, the power goes out! I’m left with my balls hanging out while my hardened hammer gets a dose of pleasurable deepthroating. I just don’t get to see the action. But I just know she’s eyeballing me in the dark, still looking up at me like she was-looking for a nod of approval-right as the lights went out.
A little blackout is nothing to prevent this hottie from sucking me wild while sliding one hand up and down my legs and ass and clamping the other to my surging manhood. Even in the dark she gives it her oral all, her maximum effort to bring me to the point of blowing my foamy white pride all over her face. However, with great effort of my own I refrain from exploding all over her face (and God knows what else I would hit in the dark). Instead, I slide my arm under her and lift her up gently by her already-moist snatch. This way my hand is already in position to massage her with two fingers poised over her inner sanctum while keeping the clit snug between those fingers and easing entry since her vaginal walls are already getting damp.
With my free hand I feel for the perky tits that seized my attention trying to break through her tight pink halfshirt when she walked in. If the image burned into my skull of a hot chick in a tight pink half-shirt, black mini and fishnet stock ings isn’t enough to keep me hard, she sucks my earlobe and licks inside the ear, forc ing me to pick her up with both hands and throw her on my now-steel-like cock, while I’m still standing. Thanks to her petite size it’s no problem for me to flog her repeatedly as she rides me midair. I just have to crouch slightly to keep my balance while I pommel her-or is it vice versa? The whipped cream never had a chance, I was now ready to spooge more than that can of whipped cream could deliver, but I just didn’t want it to end. Novice that I am, I pull out minutes later and cream all over her perky little A-cups, and keep coming until I almost can’t feel my feet.
Happily the whipped cream isn’t wasted. She sprays it all over herself where my jism landed, to make a "semen sundae." Suddenly the power came back on, and my mom got home from work to find us lying buck naked, with semen caked all over the coffee table and her favorite vase. Yeah, I got yelled at, but at that point do you think I cared?- G.S., Medicine Hat, Alberta…Read the rest of the story at Penthouse.com