Letters to Penthouse III: Hot, Bothered & Ready (1992) by Penthouse

Author:Penthouse [Penthouse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC005000
ISBN: 9780446535465
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2007-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

POP TART—JUST ADD WATER

Although I am a fairly conservative woman in my twenties, I had one experience that stripped me (literally) of all my inhibitions.

Recently, my husband and I took a road trip from New York to North Carolina. We had planned on driving straight through, but as the hours piled up, we found ourselves in need of a rest. We stopped at a small motel, and as we registered, the clerk gave us two free passes to a local bar. He had been planning on going to see the wet T-shirt concert that night, but was forced to work. Although we were tired, we decided that a little dancing might be fun.

On the way there, my husband chided me about entering the contest. But I adamantly refused, being modest and conservative, as I have already said.

Once at the bar, we danced continually. Even though he had a few beers, I drank only sodas so that I could drive back. The music was great, and it didn’t take me long to get into some wild dancing. I don’t know what it was about the place—maybe it was the mood of the crowd, or maybe it was the anonymity of being so far from home, but suddenly I found myself up on the stage with a bucket of water about to be thrown at me. I took it full force, with great pleasure.

Although my measurements aren’t outstanding—36-30-34— they are suggestive of my firm breasts and tight behind. My best features are my sexy eyes and smile, but my long, dark-blond hair and large nipples are nothing to be scoffed at.

When it came time to show off all of my attributes, I wiggled and gyrated my hips under my tight cotton miniskirt, and I ran my hands slowly down my chest to enhance my protruding nipples. I bounced them as well as I could, making sure I got as close as possible to every man’s eager eyes.

I had snipped the neck of my T-shirt with the pair of small sewing scissors that I keep in my purse, and when the music reached its peak, I reached for my collar and ripped my shirt halfway to my belly. What hoots and hollers that brought! I leaned over, showing just enough cleavage to get every man in the house rock hard.

Since my time was up, I turned and wiggled my fanny until I got back to my spot. Fortunately, I was the last contestant, so no one else could show me up.

Even though some of the other girls had far larger breasts than me, when they called “contestant number five” the house went wild, and I was announced the winner.

Responding to the calls for an encore, I repeated my act with a little variation. Through the din and smoke, I caught my husband’s eye and he winked. He immediately started shouting, “Take it off! Take it off!” and soon the rest of the crowd had taken up the chant.

They began waving money, and the announcer asked if I would do it for ten dollars.

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