Final Exam

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Note to reader: This is a story for women. I get all this hate mail saying I hate men and try to put them down in my stories. That is not true. Men come in all sizes just like brasseries. You’re not stuck with what you draw out of the pile. You throw some back and try again looking for a keeper. This is a story about a keeper.

*

The music was soft and slow and a very handsome guy was expertly waltzing me around a dimly lit dance floor. Ken was a superb dancer. We had finished a delightful lobster dinner and we were now enjoying a little Courvoisier and dancing on a romantic, open-air dance floor under a bright new moon. Ken didn’t know it but I was gonna fuck him tonight.

We were both in our senior year at Sewanee, The University of the South. Both our families had lived in the Sequatchie Valley for two centuries and were southern to the core. Both our fathers were very successful businessmen. They had to be to send us to Sewanee. Sewanee claimed the annual cost was only forty-four thousand a year but everyone knew it cost a hell of a lot more than that.

My older brother had already graduated and joined Dad in the family business. Ken would join his dad next year. My grades would get me into law school or medical school but I had no intention of busting my butt. I was gonna live like Mom and raise a family and I wanted a husband just like Dad so I could afford to. And I was dancing with the most amazing guy I had ever met. He had passed every test except one.

Ken had visited my folks and I had visited his, even though our families had been friends for generations. It was like taking an examination to sit and talk pleasantly with his Mom. I knew she was checking me out carefully to see if I was good enough for her son.

Ken had gone through the same thing with my Dad who had chatted “casually” about business. There was nothing casual about it! Dad wanted to know if Ken was smart enough to support his beloved daughter. And I think Ken had passed, as I did with his Mom.

Tonight was his FINAL EXAM! That was MY job.

You see, my mom was a genteel southern lady who could talk about “dirty” things without using dirty words. For instance she told me that Dad had never gone out looking for strange stuff but if he had done it discretely and rarely she would have looked the other way, like a good wife should. And she didn’t say “strange stuff” but I got the message.

Mom told me that most guys didn’t know how to fuck and it was important to find a husband that DID. It made for a better marriage. It was important enough that I should check it out to be sure. I got a real education from that southern lady without a single dirty word being spoken.

Ken was the man of my dreams. I thought he might be “Mister Right” but tonight I was gonna give him that last test, his final exam. I was gonna fuck him and see for myself if what two of my girlfriends had said about him was true. They said he was a fabulous fuck!

We finished our drinks and got up to leave. As we walked to the car I looked at his physique. Ken was in very good shape. He exercised a lot as I learned trying to keep up with him on my bike taking the steep Valley Road between Jasper and Sewanee.

And he never drank too much. I remembered my Mon trying to get him drunk. She kept tempting him with one choice brandy after another. I don’t know whether he knew it was a test or not but he passed.

We got to his car, a Lexus SUV. It was parked alone in a remote part of the restaurant parking lot. A lot of guys at Sewanee had nice little sports cars but Ken preferred an SUV and I think I knew why. Tonight it was my intention to find out if my girlfriends were telling the truth when they said there was room in the back to fuck.

He opened the front door for me and I opened the rear door and scrambled in. The seats were folded up and there were several pillows on the floor. He leaned in and looked at me closely.

“You’re not drunk,” he said.

It was a statement of fact, not a question. But he was asking a question: why have you decided to fuck after all these months of dating?

“No I’m not drunk,” I said. “I just think it’s time.”

“Just like that?” He asked.

“No, not just like that,” I replied. “I have given it a lot of thought and I expect you to devote a substantial amount of time and effort convincing me that I have made the right decision before that decision becomes final.”

“Wait here,” he said and closed both doors.

Where the hell is he going, I asked myself as he walked back toward the restaurant. When he returned he had two snifters with a generous amount of Courvoisier in each. I opened the door for him and he handed me one.

“I promised to bring the snifters back tomorrow,” he said, climbing in and positioning the pillows so we could şişli elit escort sit with our backs against the front seats and our legs stretched out, comfortably.

Shit! I thought. What a man! Is any other guy charming enough to persuade an elite restaurant staff to let him walk out with crystal snifters worth over fifty dollars apiece with only a promise of returning them?

I held my glass up in a toast and said, “To us.”

He clinked my glass with his and said, “To our future.”

He said it as though he were confident we had one.

We toasted our future. I looked around the SUV. So far the girls are right I thought. There’s plenty of room to fuck and pillows and places for your drinks. This is why he owned a big SUV. A lot of pussy had been serviced and enjoyed in here and probably several cherries lost. He had that charisma that attracted women.

“Your Mom and mine are lucky,” I said. “Good hard working husbands and kids that stayed out of trouble.”

He thought a moment and responded, “Your Dad and mine are just as lucky. Each found the perfect woman to help him.”

“You’re a lot like my Dad,” I said.

“You’re a lot like my Mom,” he replied.

He put his arm around me gently and we sipped our cognac. After a few minutes he took the snifter from my hand and set it down with his near the door. Then he turned me and held me in his arms with my head resting on his right hand and kissed me gently and then kissed me warmly. Holding me lovingly I felt his other hand begin to explore my body.

His right hand held my face close to his as he continued to kiss me. His left hand moved gently over my breast and down my belly and, avoiding my pussy, he stroked down my thigh and then moved under my skirt just a little so he could rub my inner thigh just above my hose. That is one of the most sensitive places on a woman’s body.

Of course I had worn hose and a garter belt! No woman in her right mind wears pantyhose on a date! Even if she plans to do nothing. Pantyhose can be a disaster if plans change. There is simply no sexy way to get them off. And thigh highs are not nearly as sexy as garter belts!

Damn! This feels good, I thought. Most guys just grab my tits. He just teased ’em. He knows where he’s going and he’s gonna enjoy the trip. And so am I. My girlfriends said he is never in a rush. Every move he makes is one you wished he’d made sooner. They were right. He was turning me on.

I’d fucked my share of guys, but like most “good” southern girls I’d been discrete and careful so I didn’t have a reputation. Only a few of my very close girlfriends knew about some of it. Mostly I fucked on “girls vacations.” Guys I didn’t know and didn’t care about. I was getting ready for guys I might know and care about. And I discovered that Mama was right when she said that most guys don’t know how to fuck. I also learned how to enjoy a couple of guys that DID know how.

His fingers were stroking my inner thigh lovingly and slowly creeping up towards pay dirt. But then he stopped moving up and just stayed about an inch below my panty line, slowly stroking me till I thought I was gonna go out of my mind. He could feel my arousal when I kissed him. What the hell is he doing I asked myself? Shit! I KNOW what he’s doing! He’s driving me out of my mind. That’s what he’s doing!

Then very slowly and softly he took his hand off my thigh and brought it back up along the same route he had used going down and gently caressed by breast. Shit, I thought, he got me ready for it but he didn’t do it! Now my pussy is dripping and I’m horny as hell. And he knows that the hornier he gets me the better fuck I’m gonna be.

He slowly unbuttoned my blouse. That left hand then traveled around the top of my skirt tickling my belly and butt as he pulled my blouse out of my skirt. Once again I wanted his hand to move under my skirt and rub down my belly but he did not.

He lifted me up with his right arm and easily slipped off my blouse and laid it neatly over the front seat. I think this guy has done this before. Shit! He’s done it hundreds of times before! He knows what the hell he’s doing and he’s so slow that I want him to go faster.

His right hand caressed my neck and shoulder and he slowly rubbed his hand across my back. I was wearing only a half-slip. Then back to my neck and I felt the strangest sensation. Shit! My bra was unhooked. He had unfastened my bra as he lovingly stroked my back! How the hell did he do that? I bend over and use TWO hands and his clever fingers had just let my 35C boobs loose without any effort at all.

I felt his right hand move down to my back just below my neck and lift me up and my bra straps fell off my shoulders and his lips were kissing and nibbling my nipples. My God! He’s like şişli escort a magician! He strips a girl naked without her realizing what’s happening to her. Before she can say, “Don’t play with my tits,” he’s already sucking on her nipples.

Then he settled down to caress my body and I realized that he had me half naked before I figured out what was happening. I thought of myself as an experienced woman and I am, but he stripped me half-naked like a silly high school girl! At least I didn’t giggle!

He didn’t go further. He caressed and kissed my body and he was slowly driving me wild. I could feel my pussy getting wetter and ready but his hand never went below my waist again. I wanted to feel that soft hand on my belly working his way down but it just didn’t happen. It was exactly like my friends had said. Girls never said “No” because they wanted him to do more before he did it and to do it faster.

“You have a lovely body,” he said softly, lifting me up to a sitting position and putting his arm around me.

Then he handed me that snifter of brandy, clinked his glass against mine and took a sip. My horny brain was saying, “Strip me down you bastard and fuck me,” but he was taking his time and sipping Courvoisier. I remembered one of my girlfriends saying she almost asked him to fuck her. I had never met a guy like this before. No wonder he gets so much pussy!

His right arm was around my shoulder and he put his hand on my face and turned me toward him to kiss me. Then setting his own snifter down he took mine from my hand and kissed me harder. Then his left hand began that familiar journey down my breasts and belly, this time pausing very lightly on my pussy before moving further. It was like a promise of more to come. I was getting my hopes up.

I felt his hand on my inner thigh just above my hose and got a sudden thrill in my pussy as I knew for sure he was gonna get up there this time. He got there but stayed OUTSIDE my panties. That’s not where I want that hand! I remembered one girlfriend who said to me, “I almost asked him to hurry up.”

My panties were soaking wet, of course, but he didn’t try to get his fingers under the elastic. That hand moved up to the top of my bikini panties and I couldn’t tell at first what he was doing until I felt him begin to roll my panties down from the top. How the hell did he do that I asked myself. He just kept rolling them down till what I had on was like a stripper’s G-string.

I’ve got a thick, curly haired beaver and now the front of my panties barely covered it. Then he started moving my skirt down. How the hell did he get the clasp and zipper at the waist open? I didn’t feel him do that either! I lifted my hips and my half-slip and skirt were pulled gently down my legs till I kicked them off.

I looked down at myself in the soft moonlight. I looked like a stripper about to finish her act! My tits were naked as was my belly. I had only my garter belt on my belly and what looked like a G-string over my beaver. At least I had the presence of mind to move one of my spike-heeled shoes into a position that, if I do say so myself, made my legs look very sexy. And I got good legs!

Then that bastard hands me that damn snifter of Courvoisier and sits back to enjoy his drink. Shit! He’s got me on display naked! And he’s enjoying the view and I’m so damned horny I want to fuck him right away. And he’s gonna take his own sweet time and enjoy his drink as he studies my naked body. Shit! No wonder this bastard fucks any bitch he wants! He drives ’em wild getting ’em ready.

“You are a very beautiful woman,” he said softly as his eyes swept over my body in the soft moonlight. “The man who gets you for a wife will be very fortunate indeed.”

My pussy was screaming, “FUCK ME” and my heart was saying, “I think I’m in love.”

And my brain was telling me to stay calm and look like I was in control, instructions that my body completely ignored. I was laying there naked for his pleasure. At least I wasn’t trembling like a virgin or giggling like a high school girl, which, I’ll bet, is what happened to a lot of the gals he stripped down this way.

He took another sip of his drink and then reached down and got my skirt and half slip and, folding them slowly and carefully, he placed them atop my blouse on the back of the front seat. My bra seemed to have disappeared until I saw if neatly folded with my other clothes.

My pussy was screaming, “Don’t fold up my damn clothes, fuck me!”

Then casually he removed his coat and shirt and tie. He stripped himself quickly and placed his clothes neatly over the back of the front seat next to mine. His boxers came off last and I saw what I had been waiting eagerly to see. It was circumcised and only semi-erect, but in the poor light it appeared şişli eve gelen escort to be more than adequate to please even the most demanding woman.

And he took off his socks! A lot of guys don’t and there is nothing more ludicrous than a naked man with his socks still on. He wants to fuck and you want to laugh!

Clinking his glass against mine he took another sip of Courvoisier before setting his snifter down and taking mine gently from my hand.

Then turning his attention to me again he lay his naked body against mine and nibbled on a nipple. His hard cock was pressing against my hip. He put his finger under my garter belt and lifting it up he let it snap down against my belly.

“May I leave this on?” He asked. “I find hose and garter belt most attractive. Especially when worn with spike heels by a woman with legs as good as yours.”

“Leave it on,” I said. “I don’t think it blocks your view of anything.”

He chuckled and said, “Just one more thing to see.”

And, finally, he pulled my panties down revealing a beaver I was very proud of. Thick and lush. His lips on my nipple began a trip down my belly much more slowly than I wanted. He paused at my navel where his tongue felt wonderful. He continued down through my bush to my clit, which he tongued lightly and delicately. At last he positioned his body between my legs, which I spread for him eagerly. I felt like I had been waiting a hell of a long time to spread my legs.

His tongue was driving me mad because he kept missing the head of my clit, which was the most sensitive place in my pussy. It was NOT an accident. I kept moving my ass to get his tongue in the right position and he kept moving his tongue away from where I wanted it to be. You bastard! I thought. I’m NOT gonna beg like all the other horny broads you fucked. I’m not gonna do it!

I was slowly going out of my mind, but I was NOT gonna beg. Then when I thought I could not take one second more of this teasing he moved his tongue to the head of my clit and stimulated me so rapidly that it felt like electricity shooting through my entire pussy. Before I knew what was happening my pussy and my whole pelvis just exploded with a powerful orgasm.

I felt my pussy start to contract and for a moment I was not aware of my surroundings. I was somewhere else. Then I seemed to wake up and he was fucking me!

How the hell did that happen? He slipped that damn thing into me without me even realizing it when I was consumed by my orgasm. Shit! How many cherries has he popped that way I wondered? No woman in the world, not even the purest virgin can say no in the middle of an orgasm.

I was pumping my ass without thinking and it felt like time was standing still. My arms and legs were wrapped around his body holding him close to me. He owned me! We were both sweating heavily from our exertions and our naked bodies were making slapping sounds as we came together.

I have no idea how long we fucked before I had that second orgasm but my pelvis exploded again in those wonderful contractions and this time I felt my pussy grab on to something hard and soft at the same time and big and moving in and out of me forcefully.

He collapsed on my slippery body panting for air and I felt his sweat mingle with my own as I panted with him. I licked the sweat off his shoulder and felt stimulated by his taste. I don’t know how long we lay there trying to breathe, but it was a very long time.

He rolled off to my side. Lying quietly and holding each other close was a very beautiful moment. One that I will remember always.

Lying there I tried to remember the details of what we had done, especially him slipping that damn thing into me during my first orgasm. Shit! Suddenly I remembered! I had heard a screaming voice begging, “TAKE ME – PLEASE TAKE ME!” Was that in my head or did I say it out loud? I had kept telling myself I wasn’t gonna beg for it.

Oh my God! Did he hear me say that? Did he hear me beg? Well, if I HAD said it out loud it would not be the first time this big bastard had heard a woman beg him to fuck her.

I giggled softly as I thought of him admiring my body in heels, hose, and garter belt. I could see this horny bastard making me walk around our house that way. Hell! He’d fuck me on the living room rug if I did that. Not a bad idea, I thought. In OUR house!

I’m glad he liked my body. I hope he enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed him. I hope I passed HIS test because he sure as hell passed mine.

My thoughts were interrupted when he whispered softly in my ear. It was the question I had hoped he would ask when the time came, and it was so wonderful to hear him ask it that I got tears in my eyes.

“I’ll give you my answer tomorrow,” I said. “Mom told me to never make a big decision with a freshly fucked pussy because a satisfied pelvis interferes with a girl’s decision making.”

“That’s funny,” Ken said. “Dad told me to never to make a big decision when I had a hard on, for the very same reason. That’s why I waited to ask.”

Well, I thought, I got him. Now it’s MY job to KEEP him!

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