Free Penthouse by Penthouse International

canvas, rubber-toed basketball sneakers
     with the vegetable motif.
    The next thing I know, I’m deep in a heated game of soccer that becomes a contact sport, once the kids have been called back
     by the parents for family pictures. It’s just me and a few guys kicking up dust and laughing.
    My bare legs are flashing under my skirt as I run from one side of the field to the other in the sunshine.
    There’s that guy Rolf again. He’s muscular, blond, and stripped down to his rolled-up shirtsleeves and pleated trousers. We
     lock legs a couple of times, and he smiles pretty good. “Nice sneakers you got there,” he says.
    A couple of guys peel off to get beer, then Rolf kicks this booming ball way into the woods. “That’s gone,” one of the players
     says. “Call me when you get out of the poison ivy.” He goes off, looping arms with a pretty woman in pink chiffon.
    Rolf glances at me, then wanders off into the brush in search of the ball. Another one of the players gets thirsty and heads
     toward the barn, taking a couple of pals with him.
    I’m still by the fence catching my breath, watching the woods for any sign of Rolf. His friend Kurt gives me a look, then
     sort of gestures to the wilds. We both wander off into the trees.
    Nobody kicks a soccer ball that far, we’re thinking as we stroll deeper into this stand of tall white pines and low brush
     interspersed with pokeweed and wildflowers. The sun comes through the branches in streams. Kurt and I split up, calling Rolf
     ’s name. A bird answers, and just as I’m rounding a stand of mountain laurel, I feel a man’s arm around my waist. It feels
     good. I look up at Rolf, and he gives me that quizzical eyebrow, measuring if I’m in the mood. I’m in the mood. And before
     I can say yes, he’s got his mouth on my mouth, my neck, then down to my breasts, and his hands are working their way under
     my skirt.
    His tongue is darting down the front of my bodice, searching for my nipples. He unbuttons me and my breasts come free, and
     he buries his head in them. My fingers go to his hair. It’s blond and curly and warm from the sun.
    He sucks one nipple into his mouth, then the other, rolling each on his tongue until I’m sighing out loud. I bend down to
     kiss his hair when he parts my thighs with his right hand and touches my clitoris. I lean back, and he supports me with his
     other hand, then plunges his middle finger inside me. Up and down it goes. I’m getting wet, and I feel the exhilaration growing
     as he finger-fucks me and sucks my breasts.
    My body’s shaking so much, we ease down together on the bed of grass and leaves. He hikes my skirt up over my face and puts
     his tongue between my legs. He pushes my thighs apart, and his fingers are inside me again. He’s licking me and using his
     fingers inside me. I’m rolling my own nipples between my fingertips when I hear the
brrrt
of hiszipper, and he shimmies out of his pants. Then his penis is against my clit. It slides downward and in, opening the lips just
     a little bit with a thrust, not more than an inch. He’s big and I’m not.
    He hesitates a minute, then searches for my mouth. He finds my face beneath the cloth of my skirt and puts his tongue between
     my lips. His hands are on my breasts, squeezing them hard, and he thrusts again, deeper this time. I’m surprised by his size
     and his hard-on. My hips buck against his. He feels like a poker, and he’s driving into me now. It hurts and it feels great.
    He stops my words with his tongue, then pushes harder, gaining a few more inches and shoving his penis up into my belly. Then
     with a couple more thrusts, he hikes my hips with his hands and drives in to the hilt. I cry out in surprise, and again his
     tongue is in my mouth, silencing me with passion. This guy’s a lion. His shirt is open, and now my face is against his chest.
     He’s pumping, and I feel his penis getting larger as he’s ready to come. I’m ready myself, with a