Letters to Penthouse VI by Penthouse International

pleasure. Eventually she began jackhammering again, and before we knew it we had reached our goal of orgasmic ecstasy together.
    She climbed off me and looked in the mirror. I sat up and watched her as she brushed her hair. “Help me up,” I asked.
    “No,” she replied.
    “Why not?” I said.
    She got down on all fours, once again with her ass toward me. Helen propped up on her elbows and stuck her ass higher in the air. “Because I want you to fuck me doggie-style,” she said. “I want it hard.”
    Bringing myself to my knees, I spread her legs apart. My hands ran up the full length of her torso, then my fingers raced down her spine, making her arch her back like a cat. Her cunt was dripping from our first love bout, as was my dick.
    I slid my cock into her damp, sticky cunt and began pumping her. Helen's tits jiggled, her nipples rubbing across the bath mat. She began to moan at the top of her lungs, screaming out, “Harder! Deeper!” I pumped her until she finally released her tasty fluids, then I shot my load deep into her pussy.
    When we were done, she turned around and lay on her back. “You know,” she said, “this is the first time we've screwed on the bathroom floor.”
    “You know, you're right,” I said. “Hey, let's go the laundry room. We can set the washer on the spin cycle and fuck on top of it. I bet the vibrations will be great!”
    “Sounds good,” she agreed. “I'll grab the razor and shaving cream.”—
Name and address withheld
    MAN WHO MISSES HIS WIFE FINDS A WAY TO GET CLOSER TO HER
    I had been married for twenty years when my wife was killed in a car crash. We'd had a very good sex life and had loved each other very much. Living without her was almost more than I could handle. Many nights I just sat around, holding something of hers in my hand and wishing she was still here.
    A few months later I still felt a deep loss. I felt something was missing in my life, and I didn't know quite what to do about it. At the time of the crash I weighed one hundred sixty pounds, but I'd dropped down to one hundred twenty pounds. I looked trim, and didn't have an ounce of fat on my body.
    After taking a bath one night, I was sitting in my bedroom, reading an issue of
Penthouse Letters
. I came across a few letters about crossdressing.
    The letters gave me an idea. After thinking for a little longer, I pulled out some of my wife's lingerie. Then I went into the bathroom and shaved off all my body hair, leaving my skin very smooth and silky. Next I gave myself a manicure and a pedicure, painting my fingernails and toenails bright red. I even put on some makeup and styled my hair.
    After all these preliminaries I was ready for the final touch. I tried on a black garter belt and stockings, then added a black bra and a black slip. To top it off I put on a slinky dress and high heels. Then I sat down and relaxed.
    As I sat in my room I looked at myself in the mirror. I could hardly believe it was me. In less than two and a half hours I had changed from George to Georgette.
    All of a sudden I heard a knock on the front door. Not stopping to think, I answered it. It was my wife's best friend Terri, who was just stopping by to pay me a visit. At first she didn't believe it was me, but she finally recognized my voice. I was afraid she would think that I'd flipped, but she was surprisingly understanding and supportive.
    Since then, Terri has helped me out with my crossdressing and with other things. We share a lot together and try to cheer each other up when we're feeling blue.
    I'm definitely not gay. I just enjoy dressing like a woman. Somehow it makes me feel closer to my wife. I dress up quite often now. Since I don't have to work for a living, I have plenty of spare time, and I use it to work on my body. This year I have added breasts.
    I have gone out with Terri many times while I'm dressed in drag. I love it when men or women hit on me. In fact, one night this week Terri and I were out on the town,