A neglected MIFL turns to a friend for a test fuck and evaluation.
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It was a warm spring midday in a southwestern desert city. I had been relaxing with a tall glass of iced tea when the phone rang. It was Jean, a married friend of mine. She wanted to know if I would meet her somewhere for a drink. She said she wanted to ask me something very personal.
Having nothing pressing to do at the time, I agreed to meet with her. I suggested a neighborhood bar about halfway between our respective homes.
On the way to the bar, I couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to ask me. Why would any married woman want to meet a single man at a bar?
I knew I had a pretty good reputation with the ladies. I have always felt that by taking special care of their needs, they would take care of mine. That philosophy seemed to keep a number of young ladies interested in going out with me. I thought maybe Jean wanted to ask about one of them.
I had only been at the bar about five minutes when Jean arrived. She seemed somewhat overdressed for an afternoon drink. She was wearing a thin, light blue dress that was cut low enough in front to show off her ample cleavage. It’s skirt stopped just above the knees of her shapely legs. Her attire would have been more appropriate for an evening dinner date. However, I was not about to complain. Why would I want to tell a good looking gal how much cleavage to show me? I decided to simply enjoy the show.
As Jean sat down, I caught just a hint of her perfume. She not only looked good, but she smelled delicious, too.
We ordered drinks and made small talk until they arrived. Jean seemed nervous. Her hands were a bit shaky as she took the first sip of her drink then sat it down. Something was definitely bothering her.
I leaned forward, reached out, and cupped both of her hands in mine. I could feel her shaking.
“Jean.” I said. “Whatever it is you want to ask me, it’s OK. Take your time and relax. You can ask me anything. I may, or may not answer you, but go ahead and ask.”
She took another sip of her drink and asked me a question. “Do you think I look OK?”
I truthfully answered her. “You look great! You have a beautiful body, a sweet face, and a great pair legs.”
Jean was in her mid-thirties and had two children. She had a nicely, but not overly, developed chest and just enough body fat to give her some real nice curves. Her body was a real temptation for this always horny, 27-year-old, male.
Another sip and she said. “John (her husband) hasn’t touched me in weeks, and I’m thinking something is wrong with me.”
I asked if John may have found a girlfriend.
She said. “No! I don’t think so. He always comes straight home from work. I haven’t found anything to indicate anything like that.”
She downed the rest of her drink all at once and continued. She looked me straight in the eye, and with only a slight hesitation, asked. “Would you take me to bed this afternoon?”
“What?” I nearly choked on my drink. I sat back. I was startled at the question. The thought of bedding Jean was not an unpleasant one. Though I had long thought Jean was a lovely woman, I had always considered my married friends off-limits.
“Would you please repeat what you just asked me to do?”
She looked me in the eyes and repeated her question. “Would you take me to bed this afternoon?” She added. “I need to know if there is anything wrong with me. You have a reputation of having a bunch of girlfriends, being a good lover, and treating them well. I’ve asked around. There will be no strings. Just one afternoon of sex.”
I am always horny, and she had greatly flattered me. So, I thought ‘what the hell’ and accepted her offer. “You’re beautiful Jean, and I’d love to take you to bed. Are you ready to go now?”
She said. “There is just one more thing.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Afterwards, I want you to honestly evaluate me and my actions and tell me what you honestly think. What am I doing right and wrong?”
I told her I’d be happy to evaluate her performance. With that, I stood, left a tip for the waitress, took Jean’s hand, and we walked to our cars in the parking lot.
Jean followed me in her own car to my place. Once there and inside, I made us another drink. I handed Jean her drink, and she took a small sip. She then began unbuttoning her dress and heading for my bedroom. As she walked toward my bedroom, she asked. “Are you ready?”
I reached out, took her hand, and redirected her toward my couch. Her hand was trembling. I said. “I am, but I don’t think you are.” She gave me a puzzled look, which slowly turned a small smile.
Sitting her gently on the couch, I sat beside her and put my arm over her shoulders.
As she sipped her drink, and we made small talk, and I began kissing and nibbling her ear and neck. When I gave her a long passionate kiss, she put her drink down, wrapped her arms around me, and eagerly returned the kiss. She then laid her head back on my arm and closed her eyes.
I opened the first two of button of Jean’s dress and pushed it off her shoulders. I moved on to kissing the exposed parts of her breasts. Her breathing became slower and deeper. She was finally beginning to relax.
I finished unbuttoning her dress and started fondling her breasts through her bra. She leaned forward so I could release the bra’s clasp, thus freeing her beautiful tits. They were remarkably firm for a woman who with two children.
“Jean, you have a wonderful set of tits.” I told her.
She smiled broadly and replied. “You really think so? Thank you.”
When I moved my mouth to her nipples, they had already become hard and extended. They were the size of large peas. Sucking on them brought soft moans from Jean.
She took my head into her hands and held my face tightly against her chest. Just above a whisper she said. “That feels nice.”
While sucking and nipping her nipples, I let my hand wander down to her knees. As I stroked higher and higher up the inside of her thighs, I was pushing her dress up at the same time.
Jean spread her legs giving me easier access to her panty-covered pussy. Without hurrying, I slowly moved my hand up to her crotch. Her juices had already begun to dampen her silky panties.
“Oh yes!” Jean said with a gasping voice, as I rubbed up and down her slit through her panties. They were quickly soak by her lubricating juices. By that time, Jean was moaning almost constantly, and her head was gently rocking side to side.
I sensed she was ready to go to bed by then, and I asked her if she would like to go back to my bedroom. She smiled and nodded.
I stood, took her hand, and slowly led her to my bedroom. Once there, I finished undressing her and had her slowly turn for me. The mid-thirty-year-old before me certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. Her tits were naturally standing proud. Her torso was smoothed and had just enough body fat to give her nice soft curves. A nicely trimmed pussy and a round ass topped a shapely pair of legs. She was well tanned with limited tan lines. Jean apparently tanned topless.
As she finished her turn, I pulled her to me and told her. “Jean, you look great. Any man would be proud to have you.” She grinned.
I rather quickly removed my own clothes, and we lay down. I cradled her head in my right arm and massaged her tits with my left hand. In a short time, my hand had returned to her pussy. By then she was soaking wet, and my finger easily entered her love hole. I alternated probing strokes with light touches to her clitoris. Jean was soon moaning constantly, rolling her head side to side, and widely spreading her legs.
I rolled on top of her, and she wrapped her arms tightly around me. She released me with a disappointed groan, when I told her. “Not yet!”
Slowly, ever so slowly, I kissed my way down her body. I paid particular attention to those wonderful tits. Continuing down her belly, I eventually got to her pussy. My tongue gave her slit one long, pussy-lip parting, lick from near her asshole to her clit. When I reached her clit, I very gently licked and sucked it. That soon had Jean nearly coming off the bed with the bouncing upward thrusts of her hips. In the mean time, I used first one then two fingers to probe deep into her wet hole. She was surprisingly snug.
“Oh please, yes! Harder! I’m cuming!” Jean gasped.
I sucked hard on her clit and jammed a third finger into her pussy. She bucked up and held there for what seemed like a long time. It was probably really only a matter of seconds, but her orgasm seemed to go on and on.
When Jean relaxed enough to lower her hips back to the bed, I crawled up her then sweat covered body and passionately kissed her until she started moaning again. Massaging her tits and stroking her pussy with my fingers helped her climb towards her second orgasm.
When she seemed about to burst, I positioned my dick at the opening of her love hole. I fully entered her with one slow, smooth, stroke. I could feel her pussy muscles hugging me. Jean’s vaginal muscles weren’t as strong as some of the twenty-year-olds I had been with lately, but they still firmly grasped my cock. After two kids, Jean still had a great pussy.
Then the stroking began. Slowly at first, building with speed and force, we were soon hammering each other. Jean returned every plunge of mine with a thrust of her own. She grunted each time I drove into her.
Within a few minutes we were both cuming. She wrapped her legs around my hips, pulled me tightly into her depths, and hugged me as tightly as she could. As I pumped my load of cum deep into Jean’s pussy, I could feel that pussy milking my cock.
“Oh God, yes!” Jean gasped.
After lying quietly for a few minutes, we kissed softly. When my cock softened, I pulled out of Jean and rolled off of her body. She turned toward me and laid her head on my shoulder.
Jean seemed to be deep in thought. A worried look was on her face. That is until I looked into her eyes, kissed her gently, and said. ”You’re one hell of a great fuck, Jean!”
Her broad smile returned. We continued to cuddle and talk for another fifteen minutes. She then kissed me, and just above a whisper, said. “Thank you!”
Without another word, she got up, grabbed her clothes, and headed for my shower.
When she got out, I got in. I figured she needed time to think.
After showering, I got dressed and found her sitting at my kitchen table. I found a legal note pad on my desk and sat across from her. I told her. “Now, for the hard part of your request, your evaluation.”
I could see her tense up, but I went ahead with my report. I took the pad and made two columns. I labeled the first column ‘good points.’ The other column was labled ‘needs work.’ Patting her hand, I asked her which she wanted to do first.
She swallowed and said. “The good points, please.”
We discussed each point as it came up, and I made suggestions, where appropriate. Here’s what her lists looked like:
1. Your still beautiful
2. Breasts are nicely sized and still perky
3. Body soft, smooth, and fun to cuddle
4. Pubic area well trimmed
5. Pussy still snug, clean, well lubricated, and tasty (she giggled)
6. Shapely legs
7. Good kisser
8. Nipples respond nicely
9. Excellent response to insertion
10. Insertion into pussy easy and welcomed
11. You cum easily and multiple times
12. Leg wrapping and returning thrust was great
13. Over all a really good lover who knows how to fuck
1. I had to make all moves, you need to be more assertive if you want more screwing
2. You never offered to use you hands on my cock
3. If you don’t know how, learn to give oral sex
4. Dress more provocatively at home (I had seen her in her usual worn pants and old blouses)
I then told Jean, if she wanted to get John interested in her again, she needed to take charge of their love life. Concentrate on her good points, and try to work on her weaker qualities. I told her. “Bring back the pretty, sexy girl he married.” Since she always seemed busy with the kids, I told her to have them spend the night at the grand parents’ home a couple times a month. On those nights, she needed to “date” her husband, even if they didn’t leave their house.
She still looked great, and I knew John would be interested in her if she showed some interest in him. A man wants his wife to be a lady in public and a slut at home, especially one as good looking as Jean.
Jean took the pad, removed the sheet with her lists, carefully folded it, and put it in her purse. She got up to leave, and I accompanied her to my door. At the door, she firmly hugged me, kissed my cheek, and again said. “Thank you.”
As she went down my walk, I asked her to let me know how things worked out. If John didn’t want her, she was always welcome at my place.
The next time I saw Jean, she was with John at a community gathering. They were walking arm and arm. When Jean saw me, she winked at me and broke into the biggest smile I’d ever seen. She leaned on John’s shoulder as they walked away. I guess her test and evaluation had worked out for the best.