No Names Necessary

No Names Necessary

Subscribe to Penthouse Letters Magazine Print Edition
Subscribe to Penthouse Letters Magazine Digital Edition

Jack was my good friend of many years. He was also married. You could say he was very married in that he extolled his wife’s virtues at every opportunity and was an advocate for marriage in general.

I knew his wife, and she was great. But if I were yammering on about a woman the way he did about Sally, I would hope somebody would tell me to kindly stuff a sock in it.

Jack and I were out at dinner, and I was indulging him as he spoke of his wife — again.

“It’s knowing her so well that makes our relationship better with each passing year,” Jack crowed.

“I think you’ve mentioned that before,” I said wryly.

He shook his head. “I don’t know if you actually understand, Terry. In a good marriage like Sally and I’ve have, you don’t get tired of the other person. I know everything about her, and she about me!” He grinned. “It also happens to make sex amazing.”

I’d heard enough. I pushed away my empty plate and asked, “You think you have to know someone that well for the sex to be amazing?”

“Well, it can be good, but — ”

“But not amazing? That’s a load of shit, Jack.” I signaled to the waiter, and soon we both had big glasses of brandy in front of us. I had a story to tell.

I fixed my friend with a challenging stare.

“OK, Jack, I am going to tell you about someone. I’ve never told this story to anyone else before.”

I set the scene and launched into my tale.

I had been on break during my senior year at college and was taking the train home. Life was fresh and exciting, even though I’d had what I thought of as a lot of worldly experiences.

The train wound through snowy mountains, and the scenery was beautiful. But the lulling motion of train travel soon rocked me to sleep in my seat. I had a general ticket, so I was sitting in those seats that faced each other where people could sit two-by-two.

The train wasn’t crowded, and all the seats had been empty around me when I dozed off. Some indeterminate time later, I drifted back awake.

As I did, I realized I’d been dreaming heavily about a woman from school. I had slept with two of her friends, but she was the one I really wanted. In my dream I’d finally bagged her. We had been rolling around together naked, and I was doing everything I’d ever fantasized about to her — and she was doing it right back to me.

I woke up with a raging hard-on in my jeans.

That was when I saw the woman sitting on the seat opposite me. She was looking right at my crotch, a sexy little smile curling her lips.

Join To