Page 68 - PENTHOUSE LETTERS 2018 Writer Of The Year Award Jim McCartan

MILF Jim McCartan

like claws, but that only stimulated me
further. I fucked her like a madman as I
felt my nuts pulling tight. Ecstasy was
about to rip through me—and Vera,
too. She bucked crazily, moaning and
writhing.
The sight, the sensations, they were all
too much for me. My come jetted out in
spurt after spurt until I fell, totally spent.
Vera held me and cooed in my ear,
“That was beautiful...Dennis.”

—D.W., via email

COMING HOME

ervousness was getting the
better of me as I closed the
Like a master, she sensed when I was app on my phone and waited
approaching the brink. Before I could jet for my car to arrive. I’d only
in her mouth, she lifted her head. “I want “I FELT MY NUTS N been back in the States for
your come in my pussy!” she said. two days, and I was itching to meet my
Sounds like a plan to me, I thought PULLING TIGHT. pen pal.
eagerly. I sat up, and she flung herself Valerie had written to me as part of
back into the deep cushions, spreading ECSTASY WAS a chain restaurant’s “send a note to a
her toned legs. Her pussy glistened like ABOUT TO RIP soldier” promotion. Her letter arrived
the entrance to nirvana. smelling like citrus in a crisp clean white
In an instant, the fantastic splendor THROUGH ME— envelope with elegant handwriting.
of this moment struck me. How rare it After the initial “thank you for your
was for a dream to come true. And how AND VERA.” service” message, she’d gone on to
beautiful a culmination this was. I’d long talk about herself and her life. She’d
since done away with my virginity, but joked in the letter that she was probably
it was like Vera was opening the world boring me, but I was far from bored.
of true manhood to me. I’d fucked girls. kissed, very softly, tasting each other. She was 47 to my 19 years; she was a
Now I was fucking a woman. The tender spell quickly broke, widow to my never having had a serious
I moved on top of her. I teased my and I started to stroke into her. We relationship; and she was a bookworm—
cockhead around her pussy lips for a moved together like oiled engine parts, unlike my “avoid most things written”
moment. She liked that. She put her matching tempos effortlessly. She mindset. She was a librarian in her small
hands to her tits and squeezed the full met me with sensual upward thrusts. I town, which coincidentally happened to
mounds, trapping her nipples between pushed down into her, each plunge a be my small town, too.
her fingers. little harder than the last. I wondered at night, as I jerked off
Finally, I sank my staff into her. I Our speed increased, and our to invented mental images of her, what
didn’t rush the moment. Every inch bodies slapped together. She squirmed would happen if we’d ever cross paths.
was worth savoring as I felt her underneath me, and I began to seriously I wrote her back.
gradually enclose me with her silken hammer her. I drove into her deepest My letter wasn’t nearly as nicely
heat. Her hips moved, already starting places, seeking to bring her the greatest scented, eloquent or classy as hers, but I
a cooperative rhythm. When I was all pleasure. Arousal was buzzing in my expressed my gratitude for her note, and
the way in, I just held myself there. Her bones and singing in my blood. silently expressed my gratitude for the
face hovered before me, and then we Her fingers sank into my shoulders masturbatory fantasies it had inspired.

66 Penthouse Letters