gustavratzenhofer wrote: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.
Gus, it's interesting that you would mention Samuel Briggins, and "True Confessions". In fact, I had a brief run in with him back then about this very story.
The truth is, everything in this story is my own. It was published in a periodical called "Secrets", in August of 1933, by me, under my nom de plume at the time, Hilderbrandt Wallenshtucht, over a full year before Samuel's story.
When I noticed that passage in his version, I acquired legal counsel. When he found that I was threatening legal action, he called me, and during the course of the phone call, became very agitiated and threatened to "pull my intestines out my arse" if I didn't retract the lawsuit.
I would not relent though, which prompted him to show up at my doorstep one day in the summer of 1935. When I refused to open the door, he began to shout and hurl the vilest epithets at me and my cat. I called the police, and when they showed up, sadly, he got violent. The officers responded by raining blows upon his head and body with their nightsticks. He was arrested and thrown in jail for a period of about six months.
If you've heard of a publication entitled, "Passionate Playthings" you might remember that his monthly column was inexplicably missing during that time.
I learned later that he had been dealing with an addiction to various narcotic substances at the time, which he eventually kicked, with the help of a clinic in Eastern Maine. At that point, he sent me a finely written note of apology and a promise to send me all the money that was my due, a promise which he kept.
We even became friends once our legal troubles had been settled, and in fact, he invited me along for that trip down the Amazon in '57. At the time, I was finishing work on a never-to-be published novel of my own, entitled "Humping Frederica", and could not join him.
I was sorry to hear of his passing. He was a good man.
<fell out of my dress>
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!
