Free Letters to Penthouse IV by Penthouse International Page A

of me.
    The blonde then teasingly called down, “Did you get off OK?”—even though she knew I had. I said yes, and stood up to show them my full seven-and-a-half-incher, with its head still glistening with come. The brunet let out a little squeal. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked or delighted. The three of them then continued on their way, laughing and glancing back at me as I pulled up my shorts. I can only wonder what they said about me.
    I’ve had numerous other experiences, and I hope to have lots more. So, girls, stay alert. If you should see me, relax, have fun, and enjoy the show. And, needless to say, if you want something more, don’t be too shy to ask. I’d love to fulfill your fantasies, too.—
Name and address withheld
    CINDI GETS BAWLED OUT—AND BALLED OUT, TOO
    I am an assistant cook at a fairly large California restaurant. As an avid reader of
Penthouse Letters,
I would like to relate an experience that I had about a month ago.
    It happened after I had spent the best part of three hours putting away new stock that had come in that morning. I had the place very tidy when Cindi, a waitress, came into the storeroom. The uniforms worn by the waitresses here are made to bring out the girls’ best features, and Cindi is one of the most beautiful girls; working in the place. Her beautifully shaped thighs lead up to a wonderful ass that is almost exposed whenever she bends over. Her tits are perfectly shaped, with large nipples that can be seen pressing against the thin fabric of her blouse. Her gorgeous face is complemented by her long blond hair.
    As she walked into the storeroom, she asked where the salad oil was. I pointed to it and, as she picked up the five-gallon container, I copped a look at her lovely bottom. No sooner had she picked it up than she dropped it. Five gallons of salad oil spilled all over the floor. In my anger, I forgot her luscious ass and began to yell at her about the mess she’d made. After several minutes of my scolding her, she covered her face and began to cry.
    At this, I stopped my ranting and went over to her. I told her that I was sorry I’d lost my temper. With a sudden smile on her tear-stained face, Cindi began to massage my cock through my pants with one hand and untie the top of her uniform with the other.
    I was stunned. It was a fantasy come true. Thinking fast, and being sure not to slip on the oil, I went to the door and locked the dead bolt. I returned to find Cindi totally nude. After I quickly took off my pants, we grasped each other and went into a deep French kiss. She had her hands all over my cock while I inserted two fingers into her warm love hole.
    Breaking off our kiss, we fell to the oil-slicked floor in a 69 position. It was hard to lie still in all that salad oil, but as I was slipping and sliding around, I knew I was going to come soon, and I managed to keep my tongue concentrated on her clit. We climaxed together, and Cindi gulped down every drop of my load. When we kissed again, she licked her juices from my smiling face. Playing with my limp rod, she soon had it at attention again. As I spread her legs, she scooped up some of the oil and lubricated my cock. I was about to enter her when she whispered, “Yell at me.”
    “What?”
    “Fuck me, and yell at me like you did when I dropped the oil.”
    I shoved my rod into her hot twat and started to scold her and call her nasty names.
    “Harder! Harder! Fuck me harder—and louder!” she gasped.
    I slammed my balls against her cunt lips with exclamations of “You fucking bitch!” and “Stupid whore!” I lost my load—and my voice—when I soon experienced the best orgasm of my life.
    Totally exhausted, I got a towel from one of the lockers and we quickly wiped the oil from our bodies before putting our clothes on. As we left the storeroom, we were met at the door by two other waitresses with curious looks on their faces.
    Cindi later informed me that she had faked her crying in hopes that