A Fantastic Summer

Chapter 3 The Gift

Mrs. Napolitano led Dylan into the women's shower room. She turned, still holding his hand and surveyed him. He felt self-conscious of his member which was still so hard it was sticking up straight.

"So virile," She said and reached out and stroked his pole making him suck in his breath.

Then she pulled her suit bottoms down and let them slide to the floor. Dylan stared at her bush. He could just discern her tempting, little cleft through her dark hair. She turned and started the water in the shower, allowing him a perfect view of her round ass.

She looked at him over her shoulder. "You like?" she asked.

Dylan nodded.

Mrs. Napolitano reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart revealing her little crinkled backdoor and her glistening, wet pussy. Dylan could clearly see the slightly gapped opening to her vagina. His cock was throbbing again, and he felt a bit faint. He couldn't believe what was happening.

Mrs. Napolitano stepped into the warm water of the shower. Dylan hesitated and then followed her. The shower was large with an enormous shower head that poured water down like a rainstorm. There was a built-in bench at one end. Mrs. Napolitano stepped up close to him, reached down between his legs and stroked his sack. Dylan gasped. She leaned into him pressing her breasts to his chest and his cock against her fur covered mound.

"Now you must give me pleasure," she whispered in his ear.

"I... I've... I don't...," Dylan stammered.

Mrs. Napolitano leaned back and looked up at him, her brow slightly creased.

"You are a virgin?" she asked.

Dylan felt his face start to burn. He nodded.

Mrs. Napolitano smiled. She leaned in and kissed him. A gentle, almost a chaste kiss that barely touched his lips.

"Is no a problem," she said. "I teach you."

She leaned in again and brought her mouth to his, slipping her tongue past his lips. Dylan opened his mouth. She guided one hand to her full breast.

"Gentle," she whispered as she showed him now to stroke the soft swell of her breast.

"Now touch here," she said and guided his fingers to her erect nipple. Dylan traced outline of her areola for a moment before brushing her nipple with his fingers.

"Ahhhhhhh," she moaned. "Harder."

He applied more pressure to her nipple and then pulled on it lightly. She ground her mound against his stiff and throbbing pole and moaned into his mouth. Dylan had watched his share of porn, but it had not prepared him for Mrs. Napolitano, and he was afraid he was going to cum again just from the shear intensity of her body pressed against his. She reached out for his other hand and guided it between her thighs. Dylan cupped her furred sex. She spread her legs and moved her hips against his hand.

"Mmmmm," she moaned.

Dylan slipped his finger between her labia and was rewarded by another moan and a slick wetness. He ran his finger down her slit until it slipped, almost accidentally into her sopping wet hole.

"Oh," Mrs. Napolitano breathed into his ear. "Oh, sì."

Dylan slid his finger deeper into her warm canal and she wantonly ground her pelvis against his hand. Suddenly she pulled away from him. For a moment Dylan wondered if he'd done something wrong.

"Come here," she said and led him to the bench. She sat down and then slowly lifted each leg onto the bench. Her legs were now spread wide, her feet on the bench, and her furred beaver was fully exposed to Dylan's hungry gaze. He could see clear, viscous juices pooling at the entrance of her tunnel.

"Kneel," she commanded.

Dylan knelt before her.

"I teach you sesso orale," she said. "How to give oral pleasure. Lick me. Start at the bottom and go up."

Dylan leaned in; he could smell her musky scent of arousal. She opened her legs wider and he lowered his head and stuck out his tongue.

"Oh!" she cried.

Dylan pulled back. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, that non my vagina, it my ano."

"I'm sorry."

"No sorry, it feel bene. You just surprised me," Mrs. Napolitano said. "Do again."

Dylan stuck out his tongue again. This time he could feel her little back opening and he could smell a faint, but not unpleasant thick, earthy odor of her nether hole. He let his tongue explore around the edge of her puckered starfish.

"Oh, sì, sì," Mrs. Napolitano moaned. He could feel her spread herself wider, which only added to his excitement. Dylan allowed his tongue to stray to the crinkled flesh of her anus. Mrs. Napolitano moaned, a sound of pure pleasure that made Dylan's cock throb. She pushed her ass out toward him, encouraging his ministrations. Dylan let his tongue circle her sphincter. Mrs. Napolitano whimpered. Next, he gently slid his tongue over her slightly pulsing back door.

"Oh, sì," Mrs. Napolitano breathed.

Dylan glanced up at her through the warm steam that surrounded them. Her eyes were closed, and she was cupping one full breast, while she tickled her slightly up turned nipple with her fingers. Tentatively, he reached down and cupped his balls and ran his hand up the length of his pulsing rod. The touch of his own hand made him groan into the cleft between her cheeks. He heard her moan in answer.

Dylan ran his tongue over her little rosebud a few more times, but he wanted more. He wanted to penetrate her. Making his tongue hard he pushed it against the center of her anus. He felt it slide into her rear tunnel just a little bit.

"Ooooooooohhhhh," Mrs. Napolitano groaned. "Strabiliante."

Dylan let his tongue slip out of her anus and then slowly he leaned forward and penetrated her again. Mrs. Napolitano moaned again, and he could feel her hips buck gently to meet his tongue. Her breathing was fast and audible over the sound of the running water. Dylan pushed his tongue into her tight sphincter again, this time a little deeper. She started to make soft mewling sounds. He glanced up again. One of her hands was pinching her nipple and the other was rubbing her clit. Dylan withdrew his tongue ever so slowly and then pushed it in again. Mrs. Napolitano whimpered and moaned. Dylan squeezed his cock, afraid that her pleasure might make him cum.

She reached down and cupped the back of his head, urging him to go faster. Dylan drove his tongue as deep into her nether hole as he could.

"Oh, sì, sì," Mrs. Napolitano gasped as she writhed with pleasure. Dylan kept thrusting his tongue in and out of her pulsing rear hole.

"Sono tutta bagnata," Mrs. Napolitano moaned. Dylan had no idea what she was saying, but it sounded sexy. She pulled on his head urging him up toward her dripping vagina.

Dylan complied, running his tongue over her sensitive perineum and up to her wet hole. As he had with her backdoor, he slowly thrust his tongue into her cave, licking and sucking her thick juices. Then he licked the roof of her pussy, or the little bit he could reach with his tongue.

"Sì, proprio lì," Mrs. Napolitano moaned, her hips gyrating.

Dylan moved his tongue up her slit until he came to her clit.

"Sì, sì, come quello!" Mrs. Napolitano cried. "Put your fingers inside and do like this." She held up her hand and moving her middle two fingers with a come-hither motion.

Dylan slid his fingers into her sopping warm tunnel. Mrs. Napolitano moaned loudly and lifted her hips a bit.

"Oh, mi farai venire," she gasped.

Dylan pursed his lips and sucked on her little nub. Mrs. Napolitano's hips bucked, and then she went still. Dylan kept sucking and moving his fingers in her slick canal, his fingers rubbing over a rough, swollen spot at the top of her vagina.

"Sto venendo," she whispered. Then she arched her back. "Urrrrrrrggggggggaaahhhh." It was a guttural cry that could have been pain or pleasure.

Dylan felt the walls of her vagina pulse and then clamp down on his fingers. It almost felt like she was trying to suck his hand into her. Her already wet pussy seemed to get wetter. Then she relaxed until the second wave hit her. She closed her legs, hard, around his head and pushed her pelvis into his mouth as she cried out again. Her whole body shook.

Dylan continued to move his fingers inside her, while he sucked on her clit.

"Gentle, gentle," Mrs. Napolitano managed between gasps.

Dylan drew his mouth back from her clit and circled it with his tongue just barely touching her

"Oh, sì, sì," Mrs. Napolitano cried, and her body clenched again.

Slowly, her cries diminished and her shaking subsided. She looked down at Dylan, her face soft and her eyes slightly glazed.

"È stato fantastico," she said. "I need you inside." She tugged on his shoulders, urging him up. Dylan let his fingers slide from her dripping cavern as he stood, his engorged manhood standing straight up. His cock pulsed slightly as Mrs. Napolitano reached out and took ahold of it and guided him to her sopping pussy.

She ran the head of his cock up and down her slick snatch two or three time.

"Sto venendo di nuovo!" she gasped, and her body curled forward into his. She shook like that for a moment and then pushed his cock down to her dripping entrance. "Ho bisogno di te dentro di me."

She was so wet that Dylan's cock slid into her easily. He gasped at the feeling. He'd never imagined that being inside a woman could feel this good. The warmth, the pressure, but also just knowing he was inside her most intimate place. Mrs. Napolitano's pussy held his cock tightly. Instinctively he pressed his hips forward until he was as deep as he could go.

"Ahhhhhh," Mrs. Napolitano gasped, and her body began to shake and writhe beneath him again.

Slowly, he drew back and then thrust into her again. The feeling made him groan out loud. He could feel the pressure in his groin, a tingling at the tip of his cock. He began to thrust faster, the friction increasing the pressure. He was aware of his balls tightening and he knew he couldn't last long.

"Non venirmi dentro," Mrs. Napolitano managed. She was panting and gasping with each thrust.

"What?" Dylan managed to say. The pressure had moved to the head of his cock and he could hardly think.

"Non cum inside me," Mrs. Napolitano gasped.

Dylan felt his cock start to swell inside her warm tunnel. He didn't want to stop, it felt so good. But he knew he was about to cum. He thrust into her two more times and then pulled out.

His member spasmed and the first shot of cum landed on Mrs. Napolitano's cheek, and spattered her throat and breasts. Dylan cried out at the incredible feeling of release. She reached down and took his slick manhood in her hand stroking him gently. His cock pulsed again spraying more thick, white strands of cum onto her breasts and belly. She continued to stroke him slowly as he unloaded his seed, the pulses diminishing until the last one dribbled out over her fingers and onto her dark hair covered mound. Then she leaned forward and took his half-hard pole into her mouth. She sucked out the last of his cum and then stood up facing him.

"You learn fast," she said and kissed him long and deep, pressing her curves into the hard planes of his body. Dylan had never felt so relaxed in his life, but Mrs. Napolitano's body pressed against his made his cock stir again. She pulled back from the kiss and pushed him away. Dylan could taste the chlorine flavor of his own cum in his mouth mixed with her musky essence.

"Non more today," she said. She cupped his balls for a second and laughed. She pulled him under the downpour of the shower head. She washed him with body wash from head to toe, paying special attention his cock and balls, which made him swell all over again. When she felt him growing in her hand, she laughed again and lightly swatted his cock.

"Giù, giù," she said.

"What does that mean?"

"It mean, down, down," Mrs. Napolitano said. "You must learn Italian. I teach you while you wash me."

Dylan pumped body wash onto his hand and began to soap her back.

"Repeat. Il mio nome è, Dee-lan," she said.

"Il mio nome è, Dee-lan," Dylan said trying to mimic her accent as best he could. He worked soap down her back and over the swell of her hips to her round little ass.

"Buono. È un piacere conoscerti, Dylan. Il mio nome è, Mia. Now, Ripetere. È un piacere conoscerti, Mia."

Dylan repeated what she'd said as he savored the feel of her hips beneath his hands. He cupped her ass cheeks and slid one hand down her ass crack and slipped his soupy finger into her back entrance.

Mia pulled back, "Non toccare il mio ano," she said, playfully slapping at his hand away. Dylan didn't need a translation.

He knelt and washed her legs. Running his hand up her inner thigh, he soaped her pussy, savoring the view from below. He wanted nothing more than to slip his pole into her and fuck her from behind.

Mrs. Napolitano moaned at his touch but pushed his hand away again. "Niente più cazzo oggi,"

"What does that mean?" Dylan asked.

"No more fucking today. I will wash a myself."

When they got out and were dried off, Mrs. Napolitano led him back to the changing room. She slipped her gown on and picked her panties off the floor. She turned and looked at Dylan who was still naked and sporting a huge, throbbing erection. She stepped closer to him and slipped her panties over the end of his pole.

"A gift," she said and smiled at him, before stepping out of the changing room. Dylan wondered if she knew what an incredible gift she'd already given him.

"Mrs. Napolitano?" He said.

She turned and look at him. "Non la 'Mrs. Napolitano,' Mia."

"Sì, Mia," Dylan said. "Grazie." He tried to say it with all his heart.

She beamed at him. "Prego. Cio."

When she'd gone, Dylan went back to work cleaning the pool house. The knowledge that he had Mia's wispy panties in his front pocket kept him in a state of semi-arousal the whole time. When Dylan finished, he realized he didn't really have any more work to do, the pool and the pool house were both clean. He checked his phone; it was only noon. Not sure what to do, he headed over to the main house.

Marietta was there setting a table on the patio overlooking the pool. In his semi-aroused state Dylan was hyper aware of how attractive she looked. She was wearing a green tank top and no bra. Her nipples were making little bumps in the material. Her short skirt ended a little above her mid-thigh and she was barefoot.

"Mia said that you're to eat lunch with us," she told Dylan when she saw him.

"Anything I can do to help?" Dylan asked.

"Sure, you can help me bring out the food."

Dylan followed her into the house. The kitchen was cool and pleasant. He stared at the tray she handed him full of fresh vegetables, olives, bread and cheese. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until that moment. When he arrived at the table, Mia was there already.

"Parliamo solo italiano a tavola," she said as he set the tray down.

"What?" Dylan asked.

"Non 'What.' Che Cosa," Mia corrected.

"Oh," Dylan said, realizing what she'd said.

It was a fun meal, even though Dylan couldn't follow half the conversation. Marietta seemed to know quite a bit of Italian, but Mia spent a fair amount of time correcting her. They all laughed and ate together for over an hour. Afterward, Dylan helped Marietta clean up. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed to brush against him more than was really necessary. Dylan left at the end of the day happier than he'd ever felt in his life.