Connie Panetta and Summer 1970

byfurryfan©

And I was blowing it big time.

"No," I cried out and I jumped up, stopping her as she began to pick up her robe to hide under and deprive me of my view.

"Please," I begged, although I didn't know what to say after that, only that I wanted her badly.

I remember Mrs. Panetta freezing in place, her eyes going to me as I leaped to my feet. The damp towel had remained on the chair, and while I hadn't planned on making such a dramatic presentation, what happened, happened.

As it turned out, this picture spoke volumes to her, because while I could have spent the afternoon trying to tell Connie Panetta how crazy I was about her and how sexy I thought she was - whether she was 51 or 101 - the evidence of how I felt was swaying in front of me.

While not absurdly well-endowed, I definitely hadn't been cheated as far as the size of my cock goes, and I guess that when Mrs. Panetta saw my erection bobbing up and down in front of me, it was clear that while I might act immature, I was not a kid.

So I stood there, naked as the day I was born, standing within arm's reach of the woman I had lusted over my entire teenage life, and what did I do? Nothing. My feet were glued to the linoleum, and the only moving parts of me were my chest, which was heaving, and my dick, which sprang up on it's own every few seconds.

Mrs. Panetta didn't move either, and stood there with her robe clutched in her hand, waiting - waiting for me. I only had to make two steps towards her, and I managed them about as gracefully as Boris Karloff in Frankenstein.

I poked her with my dick as I got close to her, and that made me cringe. Mrs. Panetta didn't laugh though, and instead when I leaned down to kiss her, she let me.

Those lips, so red and full - how many nights did I dream of kissing them? They were soft, and after I pressed my lips into them I was about to lean back away from her, but something stopped me. It was Mrs. Panetta.

As our kiss ended I found myself looking into those smoky eyes, and after our eyes met it was as if something registered in Connie Panetta's mind. Maybe something like - this kid really wants me.

"What?" I said after Mrs. Panetta said something in Italian, the meaning of which that I had no clue.

"I said I'm going to go to hell for doing that to you," she said in her slightly broken English.

"You didn't - I mean you didn't do anything to me. We did that together. Like this."

I leaned down and kissed her again, and this time she not only accepted my affection but gave it back, and as our tongues dueled my hands went around to her backside, squeezing her ass while pulling her into my cock.

"Jimmy..." Mrs. Panetta said after our lips separated, and she was breathing heavily as she looked first at me and then at the ceiling above while putting her hands up in an feeble attempt to conceal her massive breasts.

It was as if she was looking for some kind of divine intervention, or a sign from above as to what should happen, as she whispered "if somebody ever..."

I imagine she might have thinking that I was some dumb-ass kid wanting to knock off a piece of tail and then run down the block and tell all of my friends. From there she might have been fearing the word would spread to the Ladies Auxiliary of the Italian Benevolent Society and the women of the church chorus, which would make her the talk of the town.

That was never going to happen, and I think I might have tried to tell her that before finally just shrugging and offering to leave, if that was what she wanted. Her lips moved, and for a second I was afraid Mrs. Panetta was going to take me up on that, and if she had I would have been crushed.

Instead, she slowly turned and walked over to the stove. My eyes took in the glorious sight of Mrs. Panetta from behind, savoring every second as I committed each curve to memory. The smooth round shoulders, the thick but solid waist, the lush buttocks and the full but surprisingly shapely legs - all of this I remember today as if this was happening yesterday instead for 40 years ago.

I also recall how Mrs. Panetta reached over and turned off the burner that the sauce was still simmering on, and then she turned around to face me. I stood there where she had left me, and nothing had changed. She could tell that when her eyes went down and saw my erection was still very much there, bobbing uncontrollably, and then a tiny smile appeared as her hands came down from her breasts.

Mrs. Panetta walked - maybe floated the way I saw her - and the next minute she was leading me down the hall, past the bathroom and into her bedroom. The door closed behind me, and then I heard the lock click. The next thing I knew we were on the bed and Mrs. Panetta was using her hands to persuade me from doing what I was crudely going to do when I climbed between her legs with my cock in hands.

"Slow down Jimmy," I heard her say as she moved me down with her hands on my shoulders. "Been so long."

I found myself with my face hovering above Mrs. Panetta's pussy, and while I liked to think that I knew my way around, this was something foreign to me. I hadn't done anything but crudely stick my cock into the other two women and thrust away, and now I was faced with something different and being asked to do something equally foreign to me.

Mrs. Panetta might have sensed my confusion, and it was then that I felt her hands in my scalp. pulling me gently downward until my cheeks were buried into what felt like a jungle. The hair was blacker than black, and the denseness of the growth made in impossible to see the opening, but with Mrs. Panetta's guidance my mouth found the way.

The smell was overwhelming, similar to the scent that came from Bonnie and Joyce only much more so, and as my tongue slipped inside Mrs. Panetta the bitterness burned while sending shivers down my spine.

My tongue slapped around, swabbing blindly as Mrs. Panetta's hands moved my head when she wanted it to go as I looked through the dense bush to see her reactions. Blocking the view of her face were the undersides of her massive breasts, which were heaving wildly as her plump thighs squeezed my head.

Mrs. Panetta was thrusting her hips up into my face, forcing my nose into what had become a sloppy fold, and then the hands in my scalp were not pushing me in but instead bringing me up to my knees while her creamy thighs parted.

"Easy Jimmy," she was saying as she took my cock from me and guided it to her opening after I fumbled around for a second. "Been so long."

I had done this twice before in my brief adult life, but was now acting like the virgin. My love was patient though, and as I felt my cock inch into her I was glad I came before when I was peeking at Mrs. Panetta in this very bedroom, because otherwise I would have cum right away while trying to penetrate her.

"Easy!" Mrs. Panetta cried out as she took her hand from between her legs and gripped my biceps tightly. "Cazzo! Merda!"

I was learning what the Italian equivalent of fuck and shit were, but I was too occupied in what was a pussy tighter than the allegedly virginal Bonnie's pussy was to take notes.

Instead I watched Mrs. Panetta recoiling back toward the headboard while my cock tunneled deeply into her, and her skull was against the wood by the time I fully impaled her.

"Jimmy!" she cried out as her eyes rolled back in the sockets, and then I felt her chubby legs surround my hips while I pulled myself out a bit.

Soon I was moving in and out more freely, and as Mrs. Panetta loosened up, I began to thrust with a little more confidence, and that was when Mrs. Panetta started to come alive, grabbing my arms and grunting each time I thrust into her.

I wanted this to last forever, but I was too excited and too caught up in actually living out a fantasy, but fortunately I was able to last until Mrs. Panetta came, and boy did she cum.

That was what sent me over the edge. Seeing my dream lover wild-eyed and practically screaming, clawing at my arms and shoulders while her pussy tried to crush my cock, I lost control and sent what felt like a massive load of my seed deep into Mrs. Panetta's womb.

Her pussy was still convulsing as I went limp inside of her, and one of those contractions forced my deflated dick out of her, causing her to shiver and moan. I held myself above her, my sweat dropping down on her voluptuous body, and her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

"Oh Jimmy, that was so good," she sighed, and for whatever reason, I lost it.

"What's the matter?" she asked, as confused as I was over my released emotions, and I eased myself down into her arms and hugged her.

"Nothing," I said, wanting to tell her that she was acting the way I had always fantasized her to act, and saying the things that I thought would only come out of her mouth in my wildest dreams. "Just happy."

"Crazy kid," she said softly as we embraced, and said something in Italian.

Eventually I rolled off of Mrs. Panetta and joined her in staring at the ceiling for a while before turning to face her. She looked so content and happy, with her eyes closed and her hands linked behind her head, and I took the opportunity to drink in all of her natural beauty.

How long I was in that trance-like state, I don't know, but when I glanced up Mrs. Panetta was watching me watching her, and she had an amused expression on her face when I found out I was busted.

"Thought maybe you had a stroke or something," she commented.

"You're just so sexy," I said, and found myself reaching over to her, first running my palm over her enormous breast and then letting it glide over her smooth olive skin until my fingers were under her arm.

"That's sexy, huh?" she clucked as I raked my fingers through the moist jungle of hair that filled the gentle recess of her underarm. "Leo always tells me to shave there like all the other mothers do. I tell him, who's going to waste time looking under my arms?"

"Me," I admitted.

"And you're telling me that makes you excited?" she said just as my erection brushed against her hip, and when she looked down at my boner she burst out laughing and started speaking in Italian.

"What was that you just said?"

"If you knew Italian you wouldn't have to ask," she said, but when I pressed her she translated.

"I said that being with you is like going to the zoo because you're as crazy as a loon, you're hung like a horse and you got the stamina of a bull," she said. "I suppose you think you're up for another go at me, huh?"

"That's - uh - well - it's up to you," I stammered.

"I dunno if I'm up to it," Mrs. Panetta confessed. "You got me using parts that aren't used to it, and they are feeling it."

"I'll be gentle. I want to make love to you," I said, and then added, "Concetta."

"You never - that's the first time you ever called me anything but Mrs. Panetta."

"Is that okay?" I asked.

"After all this, I guess it has to be," she said, and seemed to be getting a little misty-eyed. "And you called me Concetta instead of Connie. Nobody has called me that since..."

"I always wanted to. It's such a beautiful name, and you're such a beautiful woman," I said, not caring how schmaltzy I was sounded because I wanted to make love to her.

Not like a crude teenager, but like a lover would, even though I was so inexperienced that I didn't really know all that much about it. I only knew I wanted to try, so when I climbed between her full thighs, I didn't jump in and root around. Instead, I explored.

I massaged those magnificent breasts, delighting in their lush fullness as those amazing nipples came to life under my touch, and after kneading the pliant flesh and enjoying Concetta's reactions becoming less reserved all the while, I went lower.

My hands caressed her right down to her toes, exploring every pore with a gentle touch, and after rubbing my way back up her shapely legs I found myself using my tongue, starting just below her breasts and working downward.

My tongue traced the faint trail of hairs that started just below her navel and licked my down until the trail became the forest. The rich black hair buffeted my cheeks, the slightly coarse bush having an almost spring-like feel to it.

Lower still, I saw her opening, the prominent lips of her sex visible despite the profuse growth of hair that surrounded them, and from that opening I saw the evidence of what we had done.

My semen had oozed out of her, and the contrast of my milky white seed on her jet black hair was so stark that it made my cum seem to glow. I knew what I wanted to do, even though I really didn't have a clue as how to do it, but I was going to try, and the presence of my cum didn't make me think twice.

I buried my head between her legs again, reveling in bathing my face with our fluids while I licked her where she seemed to like it best, all the time feeling my cock re-energize, and when I was hard again I climbed back up between those plump thighs.

This time, I tried to make love to Concetta, or at least the way I imagined somebody good at it would do. I took my time and stayed in control, although that might have been more a product of having cum twice in less than an hour, and when she had an orgasm, this time I was able to fully enjoy it with her.

Everything was incredible; watching the veins in her neck strain and she face contort while her pussy squeezed my cock, and having the noises and words she spat out while she writhed under me, it was all even better than cumming myself.

I did cum, eventually, and this I timed it so we came together. The feeling we shared as we clutched and held each other as I filled her womb with my seed - I can safely say that I never had a feeling better than at that moment - and we held each other a long time before we spoke.

"You gonna make some girl real lucky one day," Concetta said.

That was fine with me, as long as that girl was her. Why on earth would I look elsewhere when she was the perfect woman? So she was older than me? I didn't care. She didn't look 51 to me.

That wasn't the end, but only the beginning. The next morning I came back over to her house, managing to wait until almost 9 a.m. before knocking on her door.

The door opened only a little bit, and Concetta peeked out at me, with her bathrobe clutched at her neck.

"I just got out of the shower, Jimmy," she said softly. "What you want?"

What did I want? Was that it? One afternoon of heaven and then that's all? Did she have second thoughts? Make confession to Father Tony? Was she kidding?

"You want this, dontcha?" she cackled while backing up and opening her robe, showing me the most voluptuously sexy body on the planet, and I walked in to embrace her.

"Lock the door," Concetta said, freezing me in my tracks, and after I secured it and turned around she was back at the hall doorway, her robe on the floor while she stuck her tongue out at me.

"You want me you gotta catch me first," she giggled before scurrying down the hallway.

I caught her, of course, but she didn't run all that fast. Not as fast as she could have, and I grabbed her just in time to send us both tumbling into the bed, where we stayed for the rest of the morning.

It was a little after noon, and after we had rested for a while I began to poke Concetta's side with my erection. We had already made love 3 times that morning, and I was ready for more, living proof that there is nothing in the world more resilient that a teenage guy living a fantasy.

"Jimmy," Concetta sighed. "I gotta tell you something. You make me feel like a kid again, but you're wearing me out. I'm so sore down there. Really. It's really good and I love doing it with you, but there's only one 18 year old in this bed and it ain't me."

"You could get on top again," I suggested hopefully.

Late yesterday afternoon, and then again this morning, Concetta had been showing me some new positions, since all I knew was the missionary one. When Concetta climbed on top of me, straddled my cock and put it in, I couldn't take it.

The sight of her looking at me from on top of me, with those enormous breasts dangling down, was too much. I reached up and hefted them, and the next thing I knew I was cumming. This morning that was the second thing we did, and it was lucky she came twice the first time because she didn't get much out of her second ride on me.

This time, I tried to avoid looking up at her, but as she rode me I heard her making noises and took a peek. Concetta was kneading her jugs hard, and then grabbing one in both hands while trying to suck her own nipple. Forget it. That move would soon become known as my Kryptonite.

After seeing me put my sad puppy face on, Concetta shook her head and sighed while moving down the bed a bit, saying, "I don't know if I remember how to do this. Been a long time."

There she was, my beautiful Concetta sitting at my hip, reaching over and grabbing my semi-turgid cock while bending down and licking the tip of my dick before letting her lips slide down, and by the time her mouth was halfway down I was fully engorged again.

Before then, I thought that "blow jobs" as they were known, were highly overrated. I had receive the gift from the two girls I had been intimate with; the first, Bonnie, had done her best but her teeth took all of the enjoyment out of it for me. I guess it was new to her too, and it showed.

The second time, with Joyce, was better but left me cold. I like watching my cock go in her mouth, but after she bobbed up and down half of my dick for a couple of minutes she took it out of her mouth and jacked me off to orgasm. It was okay.

My opinion of fellatio changed the minute Concetta's mouth touched me, and if she was out of practice, I couldn't wait until she got back into form. She made love to my cock. Her full red lips slid further and further down the shaft until she nearly had all of me in her mouth, and all the time her hands were busy, kneading my balls and squeezing the base of the shaft while I writhed on the bedding.

"Let me know when you gonna shoot, Jimmy," Concetta said quickly before going back to sucking me hard, and while I had been fighting the urge to cum, I knew it was a fight I was losing so I resigned myself to a stroking climax, although because it was Concetta's hand it would be as good as that could get.

Instead, Concetta's hand began squeezing my nuts hard, and instead of her lips coming off of me they slid down until her face was in my pubic hair. All the while, although her lips stayed locked around the stump of my cock she kept sucking somehow with her throat or something, like she was trying to swallow my cock whole.

My body practically lifted up out of the bedding as I came, my cum being siphoned by Concetta with only a brief choking sound while my body shuddered as I spoke in tongues, and I finally had to pull her off of me when my going limp didn't stop her.

"Got a little carried away," she grinned as she looked over at me, with a trickle of cum oozing out of the side of her mouth. "You like?"

"I love you," I said and I jumped up and hugged and kissed Concetta. "That was amazing."

"Something I learned in my youth back in the old country," she confessed. "Back when I was young and silly like you."

"Viva Italy!" I declared, grateful that they had created such an amazing woman.

"Now I'm never gonna get rid of you," she said with rolling eyes. "You wear out my puss and then you just go to another hole."

That wasn't true, because I told her that if I ever got to be a pain in the butt she should just tell me and I would be gone. "Wouldn't like that," I admitted, but so smitten was I with her that I would do anything she asked.

She never asked, and was even willing to put up with my insaitable desires and sometimes kinky tastes.

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