Dear Penthouse Forum,
I know this is going to sound like a crazy fantasy but every word of this story is true.
I was in Paris fulfilling my duties as a lowly intern for a high profile fashion magazine. Despite my meager status, I was allowed to attend lavish parties and fashion shows. During one such gala, an attractive young woman happened to catch my eye. Being nervous and notoriously shy around the fairer sex, I didn’t know how to approach her. But she was far too stunning to not pursue. She had luxurious blonde hair that danced on her shoulders whenever she would turn her head and long, sexy legs that I would have given anything to spend an evening in between.
Summoning up all my courage and finishing off my Manhattan, I approached her from across the crowded ballroom. I awkwardly introduced myself and asked her what her name was.
Obviously, impressed by my straightforwardness, she smiled and replied “Susan” in a voice that was both alluring and innocent. She told me she knew who I was, which made me very embarrassed as I am usually a very humble gentleman and not boastful.
We began to make small talk. She asked me questions about my life, interests and hobbies, and the like. I could tell that she was very interested. I felt it was time to make my move. Trying to be both charming and suggestive, I paid her the ultimate compliment a man can give a woman and I could tell by the way she reacted that she was turned on and totally into it. I could tell her mind might have been saying no but her body was definitely saying yes.
Returning to my hotel room that night, I was in bliss. I set the stage for a night of white-hot romance – candlelight, champagne chilling on ice, soft music, erotic oils – the works. The scene was set for seduction.
The time for lovemaking was upon us and I have to tell you, it was mind-blowing. I have never met a more capable and complimentary partner for the pursuit of carnal fulfillment. It was almost as if we inhabited the same mind, body and soul. My lover knew exactly what to do at exactly right moment.
When it was over, I was exhausted. I don’t know how long we were making love – hours, perhaps. And although our tryst in Paris may be over, I have a feeling we will reunite and try to recapture the magic of that evening once again. Why wouldn’t I? Just look at my lover.
Now I have been made aware that my lover has a twin sister. I don’t know exactly how to pronounce it, but I believe the French call it ménage à trois. I can nearly picture it now.