When I married Roger he was the only man I had ever been with sexually. I had done some light petting and kissing with some dates, but no boy ever got to grab or taste my goods. Soon word got around that I was a prude, and guys were told they shouldn’t waste their time even dating me. It got lonely in high school, I can tell you that, but I was brought up to believe that a woman’s virtue is the greatest gift she can give the man who becomes her husband. Yes, very “Leave it to Beaver,” I know, but that is what I was taught.
When I first met Roger we were counselors at a summer camp. He was from New York, and was the talk of the town. All the girls wanted to date him. I thought he was cute too, but I knew he had already been told to steer clear of me, the prude. He did date some of the girls I knew, but word soon got around that he was a player who left a trail of heartbroken girls behind him.
I thought his behavior was terrible, but I wasn’t crying for those girls either, since many of them were the ones who had called me a prude and warned guys not to ask me out.
To my surprise, as the camp was closing down at the end of the summer, Roger asked me if I would grab a bite with him sometime. When I just looked at him and laughed, he asked me what was so funny. I then told him that he had a reputation for using girls and then abandoning them, and it turned me off.
“Well, it beats being a prude!” he responded. “At least I’m having fun, and the ladies aren’t complaining either.” I could feel my face become flushed with fury, and I quickly turned and stormed off.
A few days later he and I accidentally ran into each other in the dining hall, and Roger apologized and asked me to please sit and have a soda with him. He made a sincere effort to explain himself to me, and after a three-hour conversation he had won me over, and actually had me swooning. Within a week we were dating exclusively. He had me over the moon, and he was loyal and true to me.
When he asked me to marry him, some of the girls tried to warn me about him, but I knew they were just jealous, nasty tramps who wished they were in my place. It felt good to be the one who was envied for a change. This prude had won a prize, and people recognized it!
On our wedding night, I was ready to give myself to Roger, but I was terrified. I had never let a man see me naked. I had never touched a penis, or had a man touch me anywhere explicit—except for the time I had allowed Roger to feel my tits through my sweater after he proposed to me. And now here I was naked in a hotel room with an experienced and equally naked man, with his cock standing straight out, inches from my mouth.
Roger taught me how to suck his dick that night. It was an awkward experience at first, but very exciting. I soon caught on, and from that night on I would suck him three or four times a day. I loved it!
When he went down on me and put his tongue on my clit, I exploded immediately. I had never felt such an exhilarating feeling before. My body shook and throbbed in places I didn’t know I had. Roger had to explain to me that I had had an orgasm. Wow! He made sure I had a bunch of them that night, and by the time it was over I was completely exhausted from the sheer pleasure we had given each other.
My introduction to sex had been more wonderful than I could have imagined, and I was very happy. I waited to give myself to my husband all the time. At first it bothered me, thinking about how many women he’d had before, and I wondered if I even came close to pleasing him the way they had. But Roger assured me that I was the best he’d ever had. He loved showing me what to do to please him, and he loved it even more when he no longer had to show me.
Now, 27 years later, this prude has really spread her wings—and legs. Roger and I have dabbled in swapping and wife-watching. He’s watched me with another woman, and has enjoyed directing me in a gang bang. We’ve taken racy pictures and made sexy videos that we love to watch over and over again.
Our life might not be very conventional, but I know that your audience will appreciate my story, and that’s why I wanted to share it with your magazine. Penthouse Letters has become our bible of sorts, and we can’t wait for it to show up every month. We just love it!
—Name and address withheld