(For a woman with a great Heart)
Janet Penniwell wasn't the first girl I had fallen in love with, nor second or third. Heck there was a time in my teenage years where falling in love was a weekly occurrence, not that any of the girls I had fallen in love with had a simple clue.
Falling in love was easier than being in love, and these relationships were purely in my mind. Girls from school were on the list, but the truth be know I was most infatuated with movie stars and celebrities of many walks of life. My biggest crushes were with my ninth grade English teacher, Mrs. Vance (oh, I wanted to get into her pants) and the local female television anchor, the one with bright blue eyes and an infectious smile.
All were unattainable for one reason or another, but all were featured in my vivid imagination being loose and attracted to, well, me.
My first kiss came at the junior prom, but it wasn't until my senior year that I wasn't stopped with a peck on the cheek or, with a couple girls, passionate kisses (with tongue!). That senior year saw me dating a darling girl, the aforementioned Janet, and we had wonderful times together. Long walks in the park, dinner and a movie, even days at the beach. At a graduation party she young brunette allowed my hands to travel under her bra for the first time. The touch was fantastic, and I longed for the night when I would finally convince her to give into my passionate demands for more.
Janet, though, held back. She insisted no sex meant no sex, and it frustrated me to no end. I would beg and plead but had to be satisfied by heavy necking sessions which included kissing, nibbling and sucking on her bare breasts but no more.
After one fun yet unsatisfying date I walked her up to her front door and begged her to reconsider, pledging love forever and anything else imaginable, but she shooed me away and told me to be strong.
The next afternoon I arrived at the Penniwell household in the afternoon for what was supposed to be a swim with my girlfriend, only to be greeted by her mother who explained Janet was able to get a last minute tennis lesson with the lead instructor and had just left the house. She apologized for her daughter, but said it didn't make sense for me not to get my swim so the pool was open.
The heat was intense and the pool sounded inviting so I agreed and thanked Janet's mom for the opportunity. Minutes later I was doing laps before settling into an inner tube to relax when Mr. Penniwell came out and asked if I minded if she join me in the pool.
While saying it wasn't a problem I began to stammer, as Mrs. Penniwell dropped her cover-up on a chair. It was a picture of perfection. The 40ish woman stood for a moment before me in her miniscule pink string bikini, a swimsuit which left little to the imagination. She had to have C cups, a wealth of cleavage, and while she wasn't thin she wasn't bulging out in any strange places either. I mean, it was a woman's body in a tight, tiny swimsuit.
I was startled by the sight of her skimpy covered body, I know I did a double take as the woman seemed oblivious to my staring eyes. She was a beautiful angel of a mermaid slipping into the cool waters of the pool for her laps. Watching her swim, I though of a goddess. She looked awesome, no doubt about it. And my cock stirred in my bathing suit as I captured glimpses of her barely covered breasts or tight buns.
As if in a trance I merely watched her swim. Never had I imagined my girlfriend's mom could be so beautiful.
Mr. Penniwell emerged from her workout, grabbed a towel, and looked teasingly over her shoulder at me.
"Well, Jonathan, are you done staring? Did you enjoy the view? That's not polite, you know," said the woman as I stuttered and stammered some meaningless answer.
What could I say? She was my girlfriend's mom and I was looking at her as if she were a prime cheerleader swaying at the football game.
She sat back in the pool chair and laughed. "It's okay, boys will be boys, if only my husband looked at me that way….well, it's an honor young guy like you took notice of me."
Mrs. Penniwell sat back as I attempted to take the stupid look off my face. I know guys talked at school about other mom's, MILFs, but I never imagined I would be face to face talking, well, intimately with one. I was embarrassed at being caught staring at her, but then, she was indeed beautiful.
We made small talk for a while. She asked my summer plans, I asked what project she was working on these days. My girlfriend's mom was always working on some
"Jon, can I speak with you about something personal?" asked the woman as I nodded yes. "You and Janet, well, I know you aren't going all the way, but I am concerned you are pressuring her a little too much, she's just not ready for that yet."
I told the blushing mom that I had no intention of doing anything Janet didn't want, I wasn't that kind of guy.
"Bullshit," said the woman, sternly, nearly knocking me off the tube and into the pool with her voice. "I was sitting on the porch last night and I heard you two talking. That sounded like you were pleading, begging, and I had to laugh. On one hand I was proud of my daughter, but on the other I was disappointed in you. I didn't think you were that kind of boy."
My mind jumbled, listening to my girlfriend's mom lecture me. "Oh, what can I expect? You're 18, you're a man, and I bet you are preoccupied by sex? I bet she sent you home last night with, what do you guys call it, blue balls?"
My ears couldn't believe the sound coming from Mrs. Penniwell's mouth. I mean, never had I heard such, well frank language, not even from my health teacher. She was right, of course, I wanted to bang her daughter, and yet I couldn't admit to it for fear of the consequences.
We sat in silence, she on the chair, me in the pool, for several minutes before Mrs. Penniwell spoke. "It's okay, Jon, no more lecture. You know how I feel and I better not catch you going to far with Janet. Neither Mr. Penniwell or I will not stand for anything, or anyone, getting in the way of her college education."
I nodded and mumbled something about of course I would respect and keep my hands to myself. Of course while I was saying this I had a perfect view of Mrs. Penniwell's shapely thighs and my eyes wandered right up toward the V in her bikini, a fact that was obvious after only a few seconds.
"You are such a bad boy, Jon…okay, I give up, grab a Coke and join me up here, I need some lotion on my back."
