November 2019

Featuring Lana Rhoades

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Hot Letters

EVERY YEAR WE RECEIVE HUNDREDS OF STEAMY LETTERS FROM YOU, OUR READERS. HERE ARE A FEW OF OUR HOTTEST HOT LETTERS, THE BEST OF THE BEST. SO LOCK THE DOOR. WARM UP YOUR FINGERS OR YOUR FAVORITE TOY. GET COMFORTABLE. AND ENJOY.

POKE HER POKER

The ace of spades was sticking to my left titty, the queen to my right—my hole cards, my losing hole cards, in tonight’s game of Hold’em. I was bent over the table, getting reamed from behind by Nick’s deliciously thick tube steak. The rest of the boys were watching. Some were rubbing their bulges. A couple already had their fucksticks in their fists. Mmm.

I loved this game, our Thursday night home game. Even when I lost, I won. My nipples were crushed against the felt. My snatch was jammed full of cock, and Nick was taking his sweet-ass time dicking me. A butt cheek in each big hand, he slowly rammed that beautiful prick of his balls-deep. I could feel every blessed inch. Reaching under me, I grabbed his nut sac and held him there before he could pull back. Clutched my cunt walls tight around his snake till the man was moaning. Flexed my twat around his meat over and over.

I looked around. Besides Nick, there were five rough, burly construction workers. Every set of eyes was focused on me. Every prick was fat and hard. Every man was jacking off. What was not to love?

It had all started, innocently enough, as a penny-ante game in a Culver City bar—you know the type, meet once a week, down a few beers, win or lose 40 bucks. Then about three months back the place got shut down for serving teens, and the weekly game moved to my place. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the stakes changed and got much higher. Now anything was fair game. Bets ranged from household chores—cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping— to lawn-mowing and oil changes, and for the really, really high-stake bets, sex.

See, I’m a pretty fair poker player—better than my sucker friends, anyway—meaning I win and get my pussy licked regularly. But that damn river card can sometimes screw you. Take tonight, for instance: By the time the turn hit, it was just me and Nick betting. I had two pairs, aces and queens, and  a flush draw. I put Nick on a high pair, maybe jacks or kings, but all he really had was a pair of threes. Fucker had no business even being in the hand, but he goes ahead and bluffs anyway—makes the ultimate fucking bet. “I win and I get my dick wet,” he said, “in your tight little pussy. You win, I’ll lick you, rim you, anything, you name it.”

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