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Fri 19 Nov, 2004 08:35 pm
Here's my idea: We write letters to Penthouse Forum which involve the members of A2K. The stories can be based on real A2K events or imagined ones. I've already sent a letter in and am crossing my fingers that it will be published in the January issue. Wish me luck. Here's the letter...
Dear Penthouse Forum,
One hot summer day, last August, I was patrolling the fenceline on my property, looking for sections in need of repair. The day was hot and I was clad only in a pair of very seductive coveralls, No shirt or underwear. My tanned, sinewy upper body glistened in the sunlight, the muscles were like those of a powerful Holstein bull, coiled, thick, fibrous muscles that caused men to walk warily and women to swoon.
I took off my hat and wiped the sweat from my brow. My long hair cascaded in waves around my shoulders. I opened my canteen and took the last swig of water. I needed more water because of the long walk back to my shack. Not far from my property was a swimming hole frequented by the college students in the area. The swimming hole was fed by a brisk mountain stream. I headed in that direction to fill my canteen.
As I approached the stream I heard a muffled cry. "Help! Help! I am stuck between these two boulders and cannot dislodge myself"
I hastened my steps, aware now that there was a damsel in distress. Turning the corner I encountered a vision which caused me to stop dead in my tracks. Willow, the buxom waitress from Al's Dining Emporium, was naked in the water, facedown, wedged between two boulders. She was stuck in a area where the water formed a shallow pool. Her pendulous breasts hung in the water and gracefully undulated, like a pair of giant pufferfish performing their ritualistic mating dance.
Willow held her head above the water and continued her plaintive wailing, "Help! Help! I am stuck between these two boulders and cannot dislodge myself."
Because I was standing behind her, she had not noticed me walk up. I sat down, very quietly, and continued to watch the pufferfish. But her screaming finally got the best of me and I said, "Oh, hello, Willow. It seems like you got yourself in a bit of trouble here."
She craned her neck around trying to see where the voice was coming from. "Who's there?" Can you help me?", she implored.
"It's Ratzenhofer.", I said. "What would you like me to do?" I strode into view and looked down at her.
What she said caused the blood to surge through my body. My head, both of them, pounded. She said, "I think it would be best if you removed your coveralls because they might snag on a rock and cause you grave danger. So take them off, them get behind me, grab my hips, and push with everything you've got. Repeatedly, if necessary. Then perhaps I will become dislodged."
I quickly scampered to shore, tripping as I did so in my haste to remove my coveralls. Then entering the water I waded behind the buxom waitress, grabbed her hips, and started pushing like it was the end of the world.
"Free me, Gus!" she screamed. "Free me... free me.... free me....free me!"
The action was fast and furious. At one point I felt her becoming dislodged, so I grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back in place. The afternoon wore on. Crows, silhouetted by the sun, passed overhead and gazed down inquisitively at the flurry of activity taking place below them. One of the crows let out a simple "caw" and then they continued on their way.
Below, I continued my relentless pounding. Finally, simultaneously, Willow and I released primal screams as we were released. I collapsed as her body broke free and still locked together we twisted and turned our way down the gentle stream and finally came to rest against a dead tree which had fallen into the stream.
We floated there and gazed into each others eyes. Neither of us wanted to break the silence. It was a very special moment. Across the stream, on the far bank, a small deer took a drink of water and watched with bemused curiosity the two naked humans bobbing gently against the fallen tree.
Finally, Willow spoke, "Thanks for dislodging me, Gus. Come on down to the diner tomorrow and I'll give you a free pancake breakfast." She waded from the stream, and disappeared out of sight around the corner, presumably to retrieve her clothes and head to work. I knew she worked the second shift and was probably late.
I strode back upstream and put my coveralls back on. Then, after I filled my canteen, I whistled softly as I headed back to my shack.
All in all, it had been a hell of a day.
Now that I think about it, that might have been boomerang that posted the story about getting caught naked between a couple of boulders while skinnydipping.
Poor Willow. She had nothing to do with this and now she finds herself getting slammed by a capybara farmer in a cold mountain stream.
Should I edit? Or leave Willow to her demise?
I'm sure Playboy doesn't care about details like that.
Nice story, but it doesn't rock the boat, to be frank.
Gus
That was hilarious AND steamy, leave it as is. I believe it was willow that told that story, can't remember the thread.
Gus, it was Willow. I think.
It's a good letter, Gus. My only criticism is that a penthouse letter need to have a lot more phrases like "rigid ****," "giant ****," and "arcing ropes of sticky ****."
Hope that helps.
So... what about the money shot???
Did she lick itup?
Or did the deer?
hehehe
kickycan wrote:Gus, it was Willow. I think.
It's a good letter, Gus. My only criticism is that a penthouse letter need to have a lot more phrases like "rigid ****," "giant ****," and "arcing ropes of sticky ****."
Hope that helps.
Kicky
He can't post descriptions like
that onA2K, I don't think. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to try to fill in the blanks.
The orange juice is on the house too big fella...:-)
I'm thinking of skinny dipping tomorrow afternoon if you're free ...:-)
Okay, I wrote a letter of my own here, but Gus posted about three seconds after me and pushed the thread to another page, so I am re-posting it on the next page, dammit!
littlek wrote:Great story Gus!
Thanks, littlek, you've always been kind to me. < makes note to buy littlek nice gift >
Willow wrote: The orange juice is on the house too big fella...
I'm thinking of skinny dipping tomorrow afternoon if you're free ...
I am loosening the straps on my coveralls as we speak.
Dear Penthouse Forum,
I was hailing a cab home one night after drinking much too much, as is my usual routine on Tuesday nights. As my cab pulled over to pick me up, a woman ran over, frantically waving her arms. "Excuse me, but can I share that one with you, please?", she said, "I have been trying to get one for the past twenty minutes, with no luck."
She was wearing a gray overcoat, and a short skirt, which allowed me to see the most slender, enticing, perfect legs god had ever given a woman.
"Sure," I said, "hop in."
I stumbled in after her. She let her coat fall open and I felt pangs of desire as I looked at her legs. The cab driver asked us where we were going. "I am going uptown," she said to me, "what about you?"
I stared at her legs.
"Excuse me," she said, "are you going uptown?"
"Uh, what?" I looked up at her finally, and said, "Oh, yeah, 76th and third, please."
She was happily surprised. "Oh, that's perfect. I only live a few blocks from there." The driver pulled away from the curb and away we went.
We drove in silence for a while, and my eyes went back to glueing themselves to her legs. She wore dark sheer stockings that accentuated the sumptious contours of her toned, impossibly long legs.
"My name is Lola," she said in her silky voice.
I continued to stare dully.
She shifted nervously, and tried again. "What's your name?"
No response.
"Do you realize you're drooling?"
Still I stared, unable to tear my eyes away from those legs.
"Aah, the silent type," she said, "you like what you see, don't you?" She took my hand and placed it on her thigh. I looked at her face and saw the devilish look in her dark eyes. "Well, how do you like this?" She adjusted herself on the seat so that she was facing me, and opened her legs.
She wore no panties. My jaw dropped, a long trail of drool hanging from my mouth. She reached up behind my head and led me down toward her. She let out a small moan as I began to kiss her lower thigh.
My tongue traced it's way slowly up her thigh, toward the sweet treasure above. She leaned back against the seat to position herself for what was about to come. I reached behind her and squeezed her ass as she ran her hands through my hair. She gently prodded me forward, ever closer to the succulent paradise that awaited. I heard her soft moans as I nibbled her inner thigh.
"Do it..." she moaned hungrily, "do what you want to do to me..." She opened her legs wider, and thrust her hips forward. She pushed my head down roughly, and as my mouth finally reached her soft, moist--
"What the hell are you doing in my cab!" The driver yelled, shocking us back to reality. "Get the hell out of my cab! You sick perverted FREAKS!" He pulled out a gun and I ran one way, and my precious Lola ran another way.
I never saw her again, but sometimes I wake from unremembered dreams with passion in my heart and drool on my pillow...and I remember. I remember.
I like this, one story for the country and one for the city slicker.
Regarding kickycan's "Lola" fantasy:
That was a great story, kicky, well researched and obviously your heart was into it. One paragraph bothered me however. This one....
My tongue traced it's way slowly up her thigh, toward the sweet treasure above. She leaned back against the seat to position herself for what was about to come. I reached behind her and squeezed her ass as she ran her hands through my hair. She gently prodded me forward, ever closer to the succulent paradise that awaited. I heard her soft moans as I nibbled her inner thigh.
I hate to accuse you of plagiarism, kicky, but I've read that somewhere before. I believe it was in the September 1934 issue of "True Confessions". The story, if I remember correctly, was entitled, "Housewives in Heat" and the author Samuel Briggins was always one of my favorites.
Briggins died in 1957 while on a trip down the Amazon where he was doing research for his next novel, "Sweet Bitch from the Jungle -- the Story of an Chilean Nymphomaniac" He fell out of his canoe and was consumed by a passing throng of pirahna and, if my memory serves me, there was a little alligator participating in the feast as well.
So, kicky, if you were to change that particular passage you would be doing the memory of Samuel Briggins justice.
If not, I wil pursue legal action.
Why don't cab drivers just do their jobs and leave the passengers alone!
Kicky, that was funny and steamy. I'm going to read it again.
Why don't some veteran female members write stories like these?
Perhap's there to timid.
I already wrote mine..... another thread, not so long ago. It wasn't exactly porn, but....
I think the stories on this thread are more steamy and tasteful than porn-like.
I'd like to read something from Willow or Shewolf. I'll bet they could keep up with Gus and Kicky.
Come on girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dear Penthouse Forum:
It has always been my fantasy to be included in your letters section..Until recently, I have had rather mundane encounters with men..You know the usual wham bam thank you ma'am sex...
Then I met this wonderful guy from Canada..I know, who ever thought something good would come out of Canada..(but that's another letter to a different Magazine.)
I met him during a cooking demonstration at the local mall here in town..He was making a wonderful flourless chocalate cake with creamy chocolate ganache as the topper..I was smitten when he took his finger and licked the ganache from his finger that had dripped over the side of the bowl..he seemed to be starring straight at me as he flicked his tongue and swirled it around his finger..I imagined that tongue sliding up the side of my neck and darting in my ear...I was as moist as that flourless cake...
The demonstration went on as we continued to make eye contact with each other..at one point he was showing the proper way to slice the strawberries to fan them out as garnish, when he dipped one in the ganache and brought it over to me to taste..It was incredible, the juice of the berry mixing with the creamy chocolate..I am sure my eyes were glazing over and i could tell by the slight rise in his apron that he was imagining where in my anatomy he would like to place that strawberry...
It was painful waiting for the demonstration to end..I imagined running my fingers through his wavy brown locks..taking some left over ganache and painting his nipples with it..My mouth on his, tongues swirling tasting of warm chocolate and excitement..
After, waiting as he signed each patrons copy of his bestselling cookbook..knowing that the fake smiles for the others was a way to tease me ..make me a little jealous...
Finally, we were alone ...as the store closed the demonstration kitchen..I lingered on the pretense of helping him gather his ingredients...the store lights were lowered and the mood was set...It was seconds before our hands were all over each other..fumbling with buttons and apron ties...
His hands felt warm as they glided up my inner thigh..finding my place of heat...He inserted two as he gave me deep kissing and whispered things in french that I had no idea what they meant...but the pressure in my groin left nothing to the imagination...
He turned me forward toward the counter..I was loathe that his fingers were no longer in me..but he offered them to me to suck...I tasted as good as the ganache...He next poured some chocolate down the middle of my back and began to lick it off...I was writhing and moaning in ectasy...I felt his hardness on my buttocks and wanted him in me...but he was a considerate lover...his mouth eventually found my "button" of love..
the flicking and sucking brought me to my first crescendo...I muffled my screams..but began to beg him to @@@@ me...He teased me at first...only giving me the head...I was insane...I began to back in to him with force and longing...He filled me ...the rhythm began..slow at first and then increasing ...his hands were not idle...cupping my breasts, he took his thumb and index finger and pinched my nipples...the pain was exquisite..only heightening my erotic experience...It seemed like hours that we continued in this position..him alpha male me his Bit%ch..
I lost count of the orgasms I had that day...but I will never forget him...I hear he is a caterer with his own company now, somewhere in Canada...I would order another special dinner for two if I ever get up that way....
Viva la Canada!
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