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29 Oct 2019

Swinging In The Grain

From the September, 1979, issue of Penthouse Magazine, this Earl Miller special adds a special twist to Y’all come again real soon. Y’hear? it seems to us. Previous editors had a more pedantically porno view of the situation: He’s the sheep farmer’s oldest son, in love with the rancher’s daughter — hardly a match made in heaven in the eyes of the cantankerous kin. But grazing rights, feuds and fence wars hardly faze them; like Romeo and Juliet, they ignore their elders’ egos and happily follow their ids. They meet in secret, of course, but they’ve hardly mastered discretion. “We’ll never kiss in the shadows,” she beams, admiring her overalled lover, her barefoot boy with cheek. He cradles his modern-day milkmaid in his arms, caressing one white breast with one brown hand. With a long and lingering pastoral kiss, they may themselves at home on the range. He takes a tender breast in his hand and admires her soft perfection; the only parent they’ll obey is the tempting call of Mother Nature. Flinging themselves together, prone on the fragrant field, they find splendor in a blade of grass and even more in each other. “Let’s be brazen in the sun,” he suggests, and proceeds to trespass against her in a thoroughly friendly way. Her equestrian talents amaze him as she mounts her delirious lover and gives him the ride of his life. He’s never had sun strokes like this before; she’s never felt such tremors. For a moment they’re startled from their reverie, but it’s only the murmur of the nearby flock, standing guard for their lovers. They stake their love-parched throats at a nearby pump and then stroll hand in hand to the comfort of the great outdoors. Stripping her naked, he traces her breasts with his fingers and then enters her one more time, as she closes her eyes and shudders at the molten, plunging sensations deep inside her. After the spasms subside, they lie embracing on her grandmother’s homemade quilt, having practiced the delicate craft no Farmer’s Almanac includes.

16 Oct 2019

True Colors

Kinda makes you want to try out finger painting again, right — this layout from the August, 1999, issue of Penthouse Magazine? … Of course the more flowery types wrote… Color me sexy from red blush to blue. Show me your true colors, that’s why I love you. Bosom buddies and lifelong friends, Asia, Lydia and Taylor know one another’s deepest desires. These girls are true blue, each always putting another’s needs before her own. For them friendship is an art form, their supple bodies empty canvases. They are marked by the colors of lust, as vibrant and real as the love they feel for one another. Pink pussies open with need, moistening at another’s intimate caress. The memory of a warm red tongue is soon replaced by a helping hand. Isn’t that what friends are for? Tongues and hands discover familiar places on different bodies, a talent that grows with time. Sliding her finger into Asia, Taylor shows Lydia what really turns her on. They learn quickly how to bring one another to orgasm, the greatest gift a friend can give. Remembering their childhood games, the women race to see who can make the other come first. Thighs part easily at a lover’s tender touch, to offer willingly the treasure that lies within. A rosy flush covers their skin as their tongues urge ever-heightened arousal. Lydia shows her true colors and invites her pals to shave her pussy clean. Like clay in their hands, her body is theirs to sculpt, a masterpiece of lust.

11 Oct 2019

Sally

Surprisingly explicit layout photos from the August, 1979, edition of Penthouse Magazine. They probably thought they could get away with it because of the mirrors. Mirrors are nice. … Also… “I’m definitely a San Francisco flower child,” admits pretty, blue-eyed Sally Whitsable. “But not the kind you think. I’m literally into flowers. I spend all my spare time growing and arranging them. Someday,” she says, showing us around her miniature-jungle apartment, “I’ll have my own florist’s shop.” Sally’s talent for creating beautiful things extends to her own 37-25-36-inch body, which she arranges in ways that don’t exactly bring horticulture to mind. Sally likes men who openly admire her, but she prefers those who bring “real originality and humor to their compliments. Once, for example, I spent the night with a man who looked me in the eye the next morning and said, .Baby, if you were a streetcar named desire, I promised I’d never get off!’” Sally also foes for men who are full of pleasant surprises. “My favorite was the time I spent my birthday soaking a hot tub on a lover’s rooftop. He told me to close my eyes, because he had a present for me. When I opened them, he and his best friend, both suitably wearing nothing but their birthday suits, had sipped into the water beside me. Each holding a bottle of champagne.” “What then?” we ask. “What do you think?” she says grinning. “We celebrated!” “When I’m hungry for something besides love, I like to go out to eat at a Chinese restaurant,” Sally tells us. “My lover once gave me some dessert under the table.” She recalls, smiling, “and it didn’t require chopsticks!” Sally is a true Gemini, she claims. “Witty, flirtatious, and very adaptable. I sense that a man needs from me, and then I give it to him!” With that attitude, Sally is destined to make any traveling man she meets leave his heart in San Francisco.