Dear Penthouse Forum,
I have enjoyed reading your letters for many years. I have often suspected that some of the stories are “made up.“ I never imagined that I would have an experience like this one that I have the opportunity to share with you.
My wife, Lurleen, is a beautiful, smart, sexy, and, above all, generous woman. She is the love of my life. We married 10 years ago, shortly before I retired from a brief career as a professional athlete. We have twin 9-year-old boys who are doing well in school.
Lurleen is a former Nashville singer-songwriter with flowing blonde hair. She stands five foot eight inches tall with long legs and 32C breasts.
I have gained some weight from my playing days, but I try to work out regularly. My height is six foot six inches, and I weigh two hundred and sixty-five pounds.
As a black man, I have always worked hard to dispel certain stereotypes. I attended an Ivy League college on an academic scholarship, majoring in Mathematics. I went on to obtain a Master’s degree during the off seasons and a PhD shortly after retirement. I am currently a tenured professor of Mathematics at a major West Coast university. I speak fluent French and German. The family and I go skiing at least once a year.
Last month we were invited to dinner at the home of our friends Rob and Chloe. Rob is a former Law professor at my current university. He is now a senior partner at a regional law firm specializing in intellectual property and patent law. Chloe, also an attorney, plays tennis with Lurleen at the local country club.
A third couple was invited to attend. Dr. Patrick, a local urologist, and his very young second wife, Eliza. According to Eliza, Dr. Patrick was not feeling well so she came by herself.
Eliza is a stunning 25-year-old woman – five foot 10 inches tall, with small breasts and a beautiful face and hair. She has the looks of a supermodel. It is difficult to believe that she – perhaps 25 years old – is married to a guy at least twice her age.
We enjoyed a delicious dinner together. Rob and I talked about the challenges of the academic life. Lurleen and Chloe chatted about tennis and local gossip. Eliza unfortunately had few opportunities to join the conversations. Although no one was “drunk” we ended up finishing off a few bottles of wine. Eliza may have consumed a little more than her fair share.
In any case, during a lull in the conversation, Eliza turned to Lurleen and, in a voice loud enough for all to hear, confessed that her husband’s cock was tiny and asked if it was true that black guys had “big ones.”
Rob and Chloe appeared rather embarrassed that Eliza would ask such a delicate question. But Lurleen, the socially graceful, generous Southern woman that she is, gently touched Eliza’s shoulder and cordially asked: “Would you like to see it?”
Needless to say, I was as shocked as anyone. As I mentioned before, I have always tried to dispel stereotypes about black men. On the other hand, we do dance better than whites, we make better music than whites, and now hot, sexy Eliza was about to learn the truth about one of the other black male stereotypes.
So, with everyone’s approval, Eliza strode across the room, unbuckled my belt, and pulled my slacks and boxers down to my mid-thighs. Of course, by this time, my cock was at full thickness and length. Eliza, Chloe, and Rob all gasped. I guess none of them had seen a real black cock in person. Lurleen smiled proudly.
Eliza must have spent two or three minutes touching, weighing and gently stroking my shaft and balls with her fingertips. Deliberately she removed her right hand from my cock, bent down, grabbed the hem of her long skirt and raised it.
Presenting me with her delicious, youthful brown beaver, she asked, ever so politely: “Would you be willing to…”
I took a very deep breath and scanned the room. Rob’s jaw dropped in astonishment. Chloe, her hand not so discreetly massaging her mons pubis, also drew a deep breath. I turned to Lurleen. She gave her blessing:
“I love you, DeMarcus. You have been faithful to me for so many years. I think you deserve a little ‘hall pass.’ This beautiful young lady deserves to experience the pleasure that I have been experiencing for so long. Go ahead and offer her an evening she will cherish forever.”
With that, Eliza lay back on the carpet with her legs spread and knees bent, offering me her sweet and very moist vagina.
At this point, I could have just gone ahead and entered her without much resistance, but I decided to have a little fun. Proudly pointing to my phallus, I suggested to the audience that Eliza’s tight young vagina would need some “preparation” before it would be able to accept my large cock.
Nodding toward Rob, of course, validating the stereotype that black men do not eat pussy, I inferred that it would be his assignment to “prepare” Eliza for penetration. Rob got the message. He lay down between her thighs, grabbed her ass cheeks in his hands, and performed five minutes of enthusiastic cunnilingus. He probably would have continued for hours if I had not tapped his shoulder and thanked him for his work.
I then positioned Eliza on her hands and elbows and prepared her for her fucking. Chloe ran out for a second and offered me a Magnum condom. I politely explained that it would be way too small. Lurleen whispered to me and emphasized that I should not get Eliza pregnant. Lurleen jokingly said that I would need to be a “Pull Out Man,” alluding to a popular song currently playing hourly on country radio. Eliza overheard the discussion and told us not to worry since she was on the pill.
Without boring your readers with details, I gave Eliza the fucking of her life. She must have climaxed fifteen times or more.
After twenty minutes or so of fucking, Lurleen pointed to her wristwatch to indicate that it was time to head home. Realizing that it was time to give Eliza her “reward,” I pulled her hips toward me and proceeded to fill her deeply fucked pussy with my semen. My cock spasmed for a full minute before my balls were empty. As I came, she arched her back and tilted her pelvis instinctually to maximize the amount of semen engaging her cervix.
Finally, I pulled out of her, and we both lay supine on the carpet. Chloe brought us warm washcloths to clean up and, in Eliza’s case, capture some of the semen leaking out from her puffy vagina.
Slowly, we all dressed. Lurleen and I shared an embrace and kissed. I thanked her for the hall pass, and she complimented me on my performance. We headed home. Lurleen graciously allowed me to fall asleep when we got home. “I’ll get you in the morning,” were the last words I heard as my head hit the pillow.
