I realized when my marriage of 15 years ended that I didn't want to do that again. It's not that I have anything against marriage, it's just that there are some creatures that simply don't thrive in captivity. I'm one of them. Instead, I took my show on the road. Taking my lead from those Travel Channel programs, where the host samples the cuisine from various stops along the road, I decided to do the same with sex. Do women in Dallas taste the same as those in Boston? Does a California girl give head like a Georgia peach? These are my journeys. This is my odyssey.
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Click Here to listen. (Note: audio does not match text below. It is meant to complement it. Please listen!) 26 min/mp3)
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I actually have Literotica to thank for "Marla" -- or "Hurricane Marla," as I affectionately call her.
Marla sent me Feedback on my "East Texas Night" submission, asking if I would be coming to Arkansas anytime soon. "I live in Tornado Alley, but I need a hurricane before I go insane," she wrote.
I recognized the "hurricane" quote from an Alan Jackson song, which made me laugh. Make me laugh and I'm halfway to getting horizontal. Nothing arouses me quite as much as a woman who can make me laugh. I was very intrigued by that line.
Of course the ironic thing is I reside in a small college town in southern Arkansas. Though a Yankee by birth, I've come to appreciate the beauty (and warmer climate) of the south.
Fortunately, Marla included her e-mail address in her Feedback, so I sent her a thank you reply (something I try to do for every e-mail) and asked what she meant by the hurricane line.
"Tornadoes take you by surprise," she responded the following day. "They'll come out of nowhere, tear you up pretty good and then they're gone in a few seconds. They're a dime a dozen and chances are you'll get a bunch of them in your lifetime, especially around here. With a hurricane, you get the anticipation of the storm, a slower build-up, a longer duration and then -- when it's over -- you know you've been through something special."
It was a great metaphor, which only served to make me more interested in my new friend's mind.
Marla worked in state government in Little Rock. (No, she would never tell me if she knew Bill Clinton, although she did say the question made her laugh.) She was married, had two kids and a comfortable life in the suburbs. Her neighbors would be shocked to learn about her late-night addiction to Literotica, where she said she preferred reading the more "romantic" offerings and admitted no interest in BDSM, anal, non-consent or any of the more colorful variations. "Except for oral," she said. "When you see me, you'll understand that I like putting things in my mouth."
Marla was no Barbie doll. Or at least, that's what she told me. At 38, she was watching 40 approach like an out of control freight train and starting to feel like the best part of her life was over. She loved her husband, loved her kids, loved her life, but she had a burning desire to know how it felt to be fucked thoroughly before she was too old to enjoy it.
In just a few short e-mails between us, I realized I didn't have to see Marla to realize there was an attraction, at least on my part. Even so, I suggested we swap pictures -- fully clothed -- just so there wouldn't be any surprises later.
I was surprised when I saw Marla's pic. From her self-deprecating humor, I assumed she was going to be a big girl. She was right, she wasn't a Barbie, but her curves were in the right places. She reminded me of the actress Megyn Price, from Rules of Engagement. Her hair was a little shorter and her eyes were piercing blue, but she had the same full face and body. I found her incredibly attractive.
We wrote each other several times a day for at least a week. Then, out of the blue, she asked if I'd be willing to drive a couple hours to come have sex with her. She wanted to do something before she lost her nerve, but she wanted to have it all set up ahead of time so there would be the "anticipation of the approaching storm."
Since I'm single, we went from her schedule. She told me when she thought she could get away and asked if I would be willing to book a room. "Nothing expensive or anything, just clean. And not too close."
I booked us a room at the EconoLodge in Benton, which is just outside Little Rock. I used my credit card and told them my wife would be checking in before I got there. If they were suspicious, they didn't show it. Likely, they didn't care.
By the time I got there, Marla had been anticipating my arrival for about an hour. I'd told her about my predilection for candles and she had several vanilla scented candles burning around the room. She was wearing a black lace teddy and a sheer black cover. Her perfume was amazing -- I asked her what it was and she told me and damned if I remember now. We kissed and then I excused myself to take a quick shower. When I came out of the bathroom with just a towel around my waist, Marla was laying back on the bed with just a sheet covering her. The teddy and cover were lying on the floor. I dropped the towel, pulled back the sheet and, starting at her toes, covered her body with kisses.
We started slowly, getting to know each other's bodies with our lips and tongues (no teeth -- she couldn't risk unexplainable bite marks). Marla and I had not shared nude photos of ourselves with each other, wanting our discovery to be spontaneous. She may have had a little extra weight, but lying back in the candlelight, her body was incredibly sexy. Her nipples were hard and her aureole puckered under the attention of my tongue.
Her pussy was just the way I like it -- trimmed but not shaved. I like knowing I'm bedding a woman and I love how pubic hair glistens in the candlelight, especially after I've gone down on her.
Marla rolled over and wrapped a soft hand around my cock, guiding it to her mouth. As she sucked me, her hand cupped my balls and she stroked and fondled them for quite awhile. She later told me that she loved that I kept them groomed and it felt like a silk pouch in her hand.
We spent a lot of time pleasuring each other orally. In fact, penetration doesn't occur on this audio until some 15 minutes into it. If you're in a hurry to hear coitus, this might not be the audio for you.
This was definitely a hurricane. You'll hear it build. You'll hear the crescendo. And then you'll hear the slow recovery. (Sorry about the phone. It turned out to be the desk. Someone was complaining about the noise.)
We're kissing at the start of this audio. Then she kisses her way down my body and sucks my cock so slowly it about drove me crazy. At about :51, I ask her to look at me. I wanted to see her eyes. You can clearly hear her mouth at work on my hard cock. At about 3:08, you'll hear my sharp intake of breath as she tongues my nipple. Then I kiss her lips, tasting myself on her tongue.
After that, I pleasure her breasts with my mouth as she moans in approval. I warned her I would take a long time on her breasts. Her aureole puckered and kissed me back. I sound like a hungry baby suckling. About 4:38, I start easing her back. I'd already tasted her pussy at this point, but I wanted more. I went slowly, using my chin and tongue to stimulate her. At about 5:37, she takes the recorder from me so I'll have my hands free. I used them to stroke her body while I lick her swollen clit and press my tongue inside. She was moving her hips in very slow circles as I tongued her. There was no rush from either of us. And while every woman tastes different, Marla may have been the most delicious woman I ever had the pleasure to taste. She had a very full-bodied umami. I could eat this woman anywhere, anytime. And I think you can tell I didn't want to stop.
At around 9:15 there's a little commotion as I take the recorder away from her. She was flailing around a little. I moved it a little closer to her pussy to record her wetness. (Turned out I didn't need to -- it's a VERY sensitive mic.) Around 11:00, I'm trying to find a good place to sit it down to record both of us. I had rolled over and she took the opportunity to take me back in her mouth.
When I say Marla was a born cocksucker, I mean it without even the slightest hint of insult. She was incredibly talented, mainly because she was so incredibly INTO it. It wasn't something she did begrudgingly because she thought it was expected of her. She loved having her mouth and tongue on a cock. When hard, the head of my cock swells so tight that the skin is positively shiny. Marla loved running her tongue over the head, testing the texture. Her tongue went all the way down my shaft to tickle my balls and ass. Watching her face and mouth in the candlelight as she sucked my cock, you'll hear it's all I can do to keep from cumming in her mouth.
Around 13:30, I finally extract myself from her mouth and position my body over hers. I kiss her neck, breasts and mouth and, holding her legs open with my arms, put the head of my cock at her pussy. At 13:50, she feels as I put just the head inside. By 14:00, I'm balls deep.
Unfortunately, at about 14:47, the recorder -- which I'd left resting on the bed -- had slid against her butt. You'll hear me move it to a night table. By then, I didn't give a shit about the recording. Like I said, though -- helluva mic.
At 17:34, the phone rings for the first time. We have a good laugh, but don't stop.
Like I said, you'll hear it build. Marla was overdue for a good fucking. Turns out, so was I.
I loved the way her whole body moved when she fucked. She was alive, grabbing my ass and pulling me into her one minute, the next both arms above her head pushing against the wall and thrusting her hips upward as her breasts rocked against her ribcage.
Marla later told me she had several orgasms on the way to the big one we shared at about 22:45. When she started cumming like that, I lost all control.
Feedback tells me people love kissing. There is a denouement at the end of this audio where we kiss and catch our breath.
We managed one more session before she had to go. (I recorded it if anyone is interested.) Then she showered and went back to her family. I went out for a huge steak dinner and then slept like a dead man after a storm.