It was a fairly boring party.

I drifted in and out of about a half-dozen conversations: shit I’ve heard before and shit I will undoubtedly hear about again. Current events, jobs, the weather, mass-transit delays…the usual fare of chit-chat and small talk. Then, a tall, leggy redhead struck up a conversation with me and said the magic word: “sex.” My brain popped back into gear and I started listening. And gleefully, the word “sex” had been preceded by the word “safe.” She was expounding that anyone with a little imagination could still enjoy a casual encounter. The trick was to be safe. Safe, responsible sex was a fun way that two consenting adults could get to know each other, have fun, and pass the time.

I must admit that I was into the idea. I hadn’t had any encounters, casual or otherwise, in far too long. She had me… and I hoped that tonight would be our encounter. “Would you like a refill?” I asked, motioning to her drink. She did.

Tracy and I were flirting away, but her girlfriends came by and asked if she wanted to leave. “Oh, Steve is going to take me home,” she said while pointing at me. “You guys can go without me.” Damn! That was an interesting way to let me know I was in! My dick responded immediately with an excited little wiggle. I grabbed my coat and was ready to go.

The cab ride home was interesting. Tracy and I made out a little, and she whispered that she had something special in mind for me. When we got to her apartment, Tracy excused herself to the bedroom and changed. I sat and waited. When she returned she was topless, wearing only a red thong. She looked fantastic. She was pale and curvy with faint freckles dotting her cleavage. Her tits were natural D-cups and her nipples were light pink…almost

the color of her fair skin. And that thong hugged her body so well, perfectly highlighting her curvy frame. I was speechless. “I have something for you to wear,” she said. “Put these on.” It caught me by surprise.

Tracy handed me what appeared to be a pair of panties and fishnet nylons. I looked at her quizzically and she repeated, “Put them on.” Thinking I had nothing to lose, I went into the bathroom and tried to make heads or tails of the foreign objects in my hands. Two black fishnet stocking-type things and black panties that appeared to have three leg holes. I put on the underwear first and my dick popped out of the center hole. I guess they were crotchless panties. Three leg holes? Idiot. I put on the fishnets next, and looked and felt completely ridiculous. My leg hair made everything worse.

“When she returned she was topless, wearing only a red thong. She looked fantastic. Her tits were natural D-cups and her nipples were light.”

I felt like a total asshole. I was practically limp. The sexual tension and excitement just zapped from the situation. I sheepishly made my way out of the bathroom. “You look so pretty,” Tracy cooed with a smile. It did nothing for me, but I kept my mouth shut. Tracy made her way to the bed, slid her fingers under her red thong and started to play with herself. Okay. Things were starting to look up. I walked toward her and asked if she needed my help. In my mind, this was a rhetorical question. “Oh no. We are keeping our hands to ourselves,” she replied as she buried two of her fingers deep into her wet pussy.

As Tracy continued to get herself off, she moaned that she wanted me to stand at the foot of the bed and watch. Normally, I would consider watching a beautiful woman masturbate to be an amazing moment, however, I was more bewildered. I tried to get my little guy going, but whenever I felt it start to get hard, I would look down at the poor fellow and see him popping out from the black lacy underthings he did not belong in. Eventually, Tracy moaned as she brought herself to orgasm, and collapsed in a beautiful, shuddering heap. Clearly, she had gotten what she needed out of me, and I certainly had enough of this nonsense as well. I gave her a peck on the cheek, dressed as quickly as I could, and left her apartment. “I’ll never forget you,” she called as the door shut behind me.

I am writing Penthouse to warn its readers. If you are ever in NYC and meet a stunning redhead who likes to spout about safe sex… run! This woman is a total fruitcake and you should just avoid her dumb sex games. Thank you in advance for publishing this warning.

Illustration by Jason Johnson