Australian Penthouse

I’ve been a long-time reader of Australian Penthouse’s Forum section and have almost every back issue—many of them extremely dog-eared. My favourite stories are the ones about female dominance. As much as I love the magazine, I’ve never bought a subscription, preferring to purchase the soft version at a local newsstand. Every time I do, I get a little thrill, slightly embarrassed that other customers might see what I’m buying and know I’ll soon have my shorts around my ankles, with your latest issue in one hand and my cock in the other. In truth, though, I know that no-one is paying the slightest at­tention to what I’m buying, despite my fantasies. At least, that’s what I thought—until last month, when real­ity collided with my dreams in a way I’d never expected.

It had been a late night at the of­fice, and I was just entering the newsstand in the lobby of my build­ing before it closed. I didn’t have time to dawdle, so I made a beeline to the back where they keep the adult material. It’s usually men my age or older hanging around there, but this time, I saw a woman who made me catch my breath. She wore a tight pink sweater that showed off big, firm breasts. She had on a short leather skirt which revealed her long, beautiful legs and tight bottom. I thought I felt her eyes burning a hole in my back when I began perusing the adult magazines.

I hurried to make a selection, choosing the latest issue and then picking up that day’s newspa­per to cover it. I returned to the front of the store and dropped my pur­chases onto the counter, feeling the colour rise in my cheeks as the cashier picked up my magazine. “So, do you buy this for the articles?” she asked with a smirk, “or the pictures?”

I was blushing furiously by that point, but nevertheless answered, “A little of both”, with a catch in my voice. I had never been asked any­thing like that before and wondered if the hot woman was listening. The clerk just raised her eyebrows sug­gestively as she handed me the brown paper bag containing my pur­chases. My first instinct was to rush out of the store, but I couldn’t pass up the chance, however remote, that this vixen might want to talk to me.

I dawdled at the front of the store, pretending to be interested in that day’s headline-blaring tabloid, when she came up behind me. Her voice was sharp in my ear. “So, what kinds of articles and pictures do you like?” she asked.
I paused, not sure if she was jok­ing or genuinely interested. Dare I tell her the truth? I decided to take the plunge. “I’ve always been partial to the female domination stories,” I said, my heart pounding as I waited for her reaction.

“Oh, really?” she said, emphasis­ing her words in a way that led me to believe she had some experience ordering men around. “I’m Yvonne,” she said officiously. “Why don’t you come home with me and read me some of those stories you like, and maybe, if you’re good, we can act them out.”

Her words weren’t so much a request as a demand, and my cock got hard as I nod­ded and followed her to her car. Hearing the click of her heels on the pavement and seeing the assured way she strode forward made me want to bow down and submit to her every demand.

As she drove, she ordered me to read from the magazine. My cheeks heated, since with the win­dows down, there was the chance that while we were stopped at a red light, a neighbouring car’s passen­gers might hear me reading about a naughty husband who gets dressed up as a girl. But it was worth it to hear her murmuring to herself as she drove, clearly approving of what I was reading aloud. At one point, she grabbed my hand and shoved it under her skirt. After that, I didn’t need any more instructions as my fingers massaged her pussy where she wanted. I don’t know how she managed to keep driving and simul­taneously have an explosive orgasm, but Yvonne is one talented woman.

When we got to her place, she tossed aside the magazine and began ordering me around. “I want you to drop your pants and get down on your hands and knees.” There was no getting around her com­mand, not that I wanted to, knowing how wet her pussy was and hoping I’d get a taste. I bent over and took off my shoes, then unbuckled my pants and slipped them off, too. My dick was swelling inside of my un­derwear. I lowered myself to the floor, but Yvonne stopped me, yanking me up with her hand on my shoulder. “The undies go, too, if you want to play with me,” she said

I quickly stood and removed them, then got down on the floor. She tow­ered over me in her heels, allowing me a view up her skirt that left me panting with arousal. Even though I’d already touched her there, seeing her panties above me, so near and yet so far, made my mouth water. I wondered if she’d grant me a taste of her sweet honeypot or if I’d be left to imagine how her cream tasted. I found out soon enough. She tossed the magazine at me. “I want you to flip back to that section and read me the next story there—and jerk off while you do it. And don’t you dare come too fast. If you do, I might kick you out or give you a spanking.” Even though a spanking would be enjoyable coming from her, I wanted to be good so I would be invited back to her place again. I tried to do as she suggested, but it was tough to balance in that position and hold the magazine.

“Get up!” she yelled. I hopped to my feet, worried about having disap­pointed her. Being naked while she was still fully dressed made me feel slightly embarrassed, especially with my cock standing at attention. “Sit right there,” she said, pointing to the couch. “I’ll have to read since you seem incapable of doing two things at once. I want you to stroke your cock slowly; let me see the head popping out from between your fin­gers—I like that,” she instructed.

I wanted desperately for her to like the way I masturbated, so I followed her instructions to a T. I was more in­tent on getting it right than enjoying myself, though that was a by-product of having her fixedly stare at me and having my hand wrapped so snugly around my cock. Her breathing got heavier–the only sound in the room next to my own soft grunts–as I got closer to orgasm. She teased me by lifting her skirt and peeling down her panties, giving me a glimpse before closing her legs and hiding her treasure.

She stood and walked over to a dresser, rummaging inside an open drawer. Should I stop? Keep going? 1 figured if she’d wanted me to stop, she’d have said so. I kept on slowly jerking myself off, while I watched her curvy ass as she stood on her toes to get to the mystery item. Finally, she unearthed it and turned around—it was a camera! My dick jerked in ex­citement when I realised she wanted to photograph me naked and jerk­ing off! “May I take your photograph, Evan? This will just be for my per­sonal entertainment, to look at before I go to bed. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” she purred.

“No, go right ahead,” I said, sliding my hand down to offer her the best view of my cockhead. She raised the camera to her face and proceeded to click away, documenting every step of my arousal. The clicking of the camera resounded in the quiet room, making my orgasm imminent. “I’m going to come!” I cried out, finally succumbing to the pressure that had been building in my balls. She walked closer, zooming in on my cock as I started to spurt a stream of sticky white fluid, shutting my eyes and letting the pleasure unfold. Each click seemed to increase her desire as she snapped away until she was finally satisfied.

Yvonne looked at me. “You may go,” she said. “Write down your phone number for me, and perhaps I’ll invite you back once I get the pho­tos developed,” she said. I couldn’t read her, and didn’t know if she meant it or was just toying with me. Either way, she’d given me a thrill. Just as I started to feel sad about potentially not seeing her again, she ushered me out with a solid swat on my ass. “Come back when next month’s issue is out, baby,” Yvonne cooed. “Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

Now I certainly know that the things I read about in Forum really do happen—sometimes even to me!

- Name and address withheld

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