From Penthouse Forum... I never thought I would ever have an experience like I frequently read about in your magazine--and I was right. It was ten minutes past five o'clock at the office, and I was just getting started with a bunch of work that was due the next morning. When I saw how much needed to be done, I called out to my secretary. Denise is a leggy blonde with the most perfect set of tits I have ever seen, and I have often imagined what it would be like to fuck her. Unfortunately, she had already left for the day. I didn't even have the chance to ask her to stay late and help me. Therefore, we weren't there until midnight, and upon completion of the work, I did not offer her a beer. There was no conversation that turned to sex, and I did not compliment her on her terrific body. In no way whatsoever did she suddenly pounce on me and force her tongue down my throat. Nor did her hand ever find the bulge in my pants. Had anyone been there, they would not have seen her lick her full lips nor heard her say, "I've been wanting to fuck your fat cock ever since I started working here," or any other sexually suggestive remark. In fact, Bob from marketing did stop by to see how I was getting on. Just ask him if he heard or saw anything of the kind. Her unzipping my fly and exposing my blood-engorged member is pure fiction, as is any notion of her first licking the precome ooze from the head of my throbbing cock before putting the whole length of it in her mouth and sucking it in long, slow movements. I was not brought to the brink of orgasm again and again--or even once--only to have her stop right before I came. Likewise, I cannot say that she was begging for me to fuck her aching pussy. I don't know what Denise was doing that night, but she certainly wasn't pulling up her dress and guiding my hand to the passion-soaked crotch of her panties. Needless to say, I didn't put one finger, then two, into her steamy sex, making her squeal with delight. She never took off her panties while fixing me with a gaze of pure lust. And though it's true that I was sitting in my chair that evening, she was definitely not straddling me, guiding my love shaft into her pulsating pussy. We didn't fuck like two animals in the forest, and, I'm sorry to say, I never had the opportunity to explore the innermost recesses of her pleasure cave with my cock. If she reached down and rubbed her clit that night, it wasn't with me, and if she had a shuddering orgasm that let loose a cascade of pussy juice, I missed it. My man-tool was not waiting to explode. I never took it out of her pussy or, while it was slippery with her juices, jacked off, sending a shower of hot, steamy come all over her neck and chest. Nope. Nothing like that. I worked until about two, then I went home. --Name and address withheld