I know that a lot of people think that the letters sent in to magazines such as Penthouse Letters are phony and are actually written by the magazine's staff. On that I can't say for sure one way or another. I do know that a lot of the letters sent in are fantasies and I also know for sure that when the magazine receives letters the editors change them for one reason or another. How do I know this? Because it has happened to me. In the fall of 1996 I sent a letter to Penthouse Letters that was published as The Letter of the Month in December 1996 under the title of Coming and Going. The letter had been changed so much that the original "flavor" had been lost. In fact, from my standpoint, they butchered it. I was doing a hard drive cleanup last week and I pulled up the original that I had sent in and thought it would be a kick to post it in its original form and see if anyone remembered it and could see the changes made by the Penthouse Letters staff. The title that I had originally given the story was The Wedding and The Funeral.
I'd led a pretty active sex life when I was in high school and as a result my reputation wasn't very good. Determined to turn things around, I made a vow that I was going to be a 'good girl' in college, stay away from boys and just earn my degree. It was a vow that lasted all of two months. Two months into the term I met Henry and fell absolutely head-over-heels in love. Henry had, at least in my opinion, one major flaw - he was determined to remain a virgin until he married. No matter how hard I tried I could not get Henry to fuck me. I would give him handjobs and blowjobs and when he got hot I would pull off my panties and try to mount him, but he would always push me away and tell me to be patient. As a result I was always super horny and considerably frustrated. Several boys from my hometown, who had in the past shared my favors, were always sniffing around, but even though I was sorely tempted, I figured if Henry could wait until the wedding, so could I.
The day of our wedding I was extremely antsy, wanting to get all the ceremonial bullshit out of the way so we could get to the bedroom, but with both family and friends all over the place we had to go through all the motions. By the time the reception was almost over I was hotter than a firecracker thanks to all the 'feels' I received while dancing with men who had at one time or another fucked me or been the recipients of either one of my blowjobs or hand jobs. One guy even cornered me on the way to the bathroom and asked me to kiss the head of his dick for old times sake (after looking both ways to see if anyone was around, I did it). All of the attention, plus my eager expectation of finally getting fucked after a full year of going without, had me more than ready.
Fate has a way of fucking you over though and on that night fate got me good. It was time to leave the reception and Henry was falling down drunk. I don't mean 'tipsy', or 'mellowed out', I mean he was in a stupor. I had to get Charlie, the best man, and a couple of the guys who had been ushers to help me carry Henry up to our room. They dumped Henry on the bed and the ushers left while Charlie stayed to help me get Henry out of his clothes. We got him undressed and we were standing there looking down at him when Charlie turned to me and said:
"There is no way that a sexy lady like you should have to spend her wedding night without being made love to."
And with that, he put his arms around me and pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips. He caught me by surprise and while I didn't return the kiss, I didn't push him away either. His tongue probed my mouth as he gently turned me and bent me backwards and I suddenly found myself lying on the bed next to Henry with Charlie on top of me. Charlie had the fastest hands of any man I ever met because before I could push him away he had my wedding dress up around my waist, the crotch of my panties pulled aside and at least two fingers in my pussy. As his tongue worked in my mouth and his fingers probed my cunt I tried to push him away and when he pulled his mouth off mine I told him to stop.
"We can't do this, its not right. Please don't Charlie, please don..." but it was too late, for with one quick move he rolled just a little, the head of his cock touched my pussy lips and with one little shove - he was in. I kept saying, "No, we can't, we can't do this. Its not right, we can't" but of course we were doing it and by the time he had pushed into me four or five times I was starting to fuck back. I pulled my legs back until my knees were almost touching my ears and levered my pussy back up at him and took him in as deep as he would go. He hadn't plunged his cock into me more than a dozen times before I went into my first orgasm. I reached up and grabbed the cheeks of his ass with both hands and pulled him to me and started urging him on.
"Fuck me, fuck me, come on fuck me harder" and Charlie listened and obeyed.
He was pounding into me and I had forgotten all about Henry. The only thing I had on my mind was Charlie's beautiful cock as a second orgasm washed over me. I was making all kinds of noise by now, moaning, groaning, and begging Charlie to fuck me. I was thrashing around on the bed like a woman possessed (which I suppose I was) and I'm only surprised that I didn't dump us all on the floor. When I felt Charlie tense up and I knew he was going to cum I tried to get him to slow down just a bit because I felt another orgasm building in me and I didn't want him to finish and leave me hanging, but he was too far gone and as he pumped his hot sperm into me I was crying "Don't cum baby, don't cum -stay with me - I'm almost there - hold on."
Charlie got up, bent over and kissed me and told me to hang on for a minute or so and then he got up and left. He was gone for two or three minutes and while I waited for him to come back I masturbated myself and looked over at Henry - he hadn't moved.
When Charlie got back he walked up to me and put his cock in my face, "Get me hard baby, get me hard again."
.... There is more of this story ...