tagText With AudioMarsha Gets Religion

Marsha Gets Religion


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Click Here to listen. (2 min/mp3)

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This is a departure from my series, but one I thought you might enjoy. "Marsha" is a coworker and one with whom I've gotten very close. We're always insulting each other but in a playful way -- like brother and sister. I've been in her corner on more than one occasion and I know I can count on her to have my back. We tell each other pretty much everything. Needless to say, her husband hates me.

That's why I was stunned one day as we were driving to Subway for lunch when Marsha confessed that she'd never had an orgasm from oral sex. She said her husband had stopped doing it altogether because he was getting a charley horse in his tongue trying. She felt like it was her fault. I told her he just wasn't doing something right.

I remembered in my college days when I could tell my girlfriend wasn't really enjoying sex as much as I was. I was 19 or 20 and really didn't have a clue how to please a woman. We both went to our respective homes for Christmas break and when we got back I told her I had a surprise for her. During break, I had gone to the library and learned some interesting things.

I didn't learn anything new in terms of technique (that would have to come with practice) but I did learn a lot about the differences in the way men and women experience orgasm. For a man, it's a sudden thing. If you could chart it, a man's orgasm would look like a spike -- quick to the top and just as quick in decline. A woman's orgasm would chart more like a slow climb. The sensations become more intense the higher she climbs. And when she peaks, the decline is just as slow. That's why she likes to cuddle afterward. She didn't just fall off a cliff like we men do. She's coming back to earth slowly.

For a man to climax, he just has to get excited. For a woman, it's more about relaxing. Sure, she has to be aroused. But it's a completely different kind of arousal pattern and it comes from being comfortable with someone.

I explained all that to Marsha.

"Sounds like you've done your homework," she said. "Are you prepared for a pop quiz?"

I looked over in the passenger seat and saw Marsha smiling at me.

"Written or oral?" I said calling her bluff.

She didn't say anything for awhile, just looked out her window.

"Relax," I told her. "If you want that to be a joke, it was."

"But it really wasn't." she said, still looking out the window.

I started getting worried that my big mouth had lost me one of the best friends I'd ever had.

Marsha took a deep cleansing breath, looked over at me and smiled. "I have a class at one." She said. "We'll have to skip lunch."

I turned two blocks short of Subway and headed toward my house.

We didn't have a lot of time, but Marsha was nervous and I knew she'd never climax until she relaxed.

She went into my bedroom (she'd been to the house many times) and started taking off her blouse. I moved some pillows from the bed but kept my clothes on. "Aren't you...?" she held up the buttons on her blouse that she was undoing.

I shook my head. "This is on me," I said, "instead of lunch."

"Then why do I have to get undressed?"

I shrugged. "If we're going to be friends with benefits, I want the benefit of seeing you naked."

She laughed a little nervously as she draped her blouse over a chair. She started to unzip her skirt but stopped. "Ok, this is starting to weird me out," she said.

I walked over to her, put my arms around her back and held her. I'd done that many times. We were experienced huggers. This time, though, when I looked down at her and saw her big brown eyes looking up at me, I went ahead and kissed her.

She kissed back.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," I told her.

"You too?" she whispered.

I unfastened her bra as she unzipped her skirt. Marsha carried a couple extra pounds, but carried the weight in all the right places. As she stepped out of her skirt, I maneuvered her to the bed and had her lay back on the mattress with her legs hanging over the edge.

I lay next to her and kissed her again, sliding my hand down her body. It slipped into her panties and I let my tongue slip between her lips as my finger brushed her clit. She moaned into my mouth.

I began to lightly massage her clit and her hips moved in response. I had to break the kiss because she was breathing hard. She looked at me, then closed her eyes in pleasure. "The deal wasn't for your finger, Hardy," she said, taunting me.

I worked my mouth down her body. If I wasn't going to get to fuck her, I was at least going to enjoy her full natural breasts before I got down to business. Her nipples responded to my kisses. Her back arched.

I pulled her panties slowly down her legs and then started working my way back up them with my lips. I knew we didn't have a lot of time.

When I got to her pussy, she was drenched. I held her ass in my hands, lifting her hips to the perfect position for my tongue and started licking around and around her clit, finally sucking it between my lips. I flicked it, tongued it, sucked it, lapped at it, let my tongue plunge deep inside her pussy, moved my head from side to side, all the while watching for a response. And, frankly, though her eyes were closed and her breathing was rapid, I was starting to get worried she was going to beat me.

Finally, I decided to just enjoy it and I covered her pussy with my mouth and began to suck and tongue slowly and rhythmically. I ran one finger over her hip and up and down her side. I kept the tempo with my mouth as if I had all the time in the world and nothing to prove. I know how turned on I get when a woman who is giving me head seems to enjoy what she is doing. I wanted to let Marsha know I did too.

It took a little while. You'll hear the results. I edited them down because, frankly, there wasn't much before that to hear. The first time she says, "Oh yes," about 10 seconds in was the first time I started feeling like I was going to succeed. (And that was about 15 or 20 minutes after we started.) If you listen closely, you'll hear me trying to keep my mouth on her as her hips begin to buck. When she listened to the tape, Marsha laughed and said it sounded like a religious experience. (She knows I'm submitting it.)

And no, we didn't have time to take care of me. At least not that day. I went back to work with the taste of her still on my lips and tongue.

We're still close friends. Even closer.

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