7 comments/ 64157 views/ 8 favorites The Collector 01 By: A_Member Yeah, I've got an obsession. On the outside I look like a normal guy. I'm tall and good looking. I dress well, have good manners and make friends easily. Women tend to notice me in a positive way. I've got a solid nine-to-five job, a nice apartment and a new car. But I've got this obsession. I'm obsessed with getting blow jobs. I know, I know. What guy isn't? But with me it's not just about getting them, but getting them from different women. Lots of different women. I can't meet a woman without wondering about if she likes having a cock in her mouth, how good she is at giving head, if she swallows, etc. Again, I'm sure there are guys out there that wonder about women like that, but the difference is, I actually try to find out. A while back I decided that I should indulge my obsession. I should go out and get as many different women as I could to go down on me. As I mentioned, I'm a good looking guy, I'm in my late twenties and I can be a smooth talker, suave even, when it counts. So I've had a pretty successful time of it. Fact is, I've been getting so many women to suck me off that I decided I needed to start this journal to keep track of them all. Each woman and each blow job is unique and I want to be able to remember and relive them all. I don't usually get more than one or two from any one woman. I figure most women are going to give their best effort the first time anyway. And unless there's a reason she can't--like we're in an unsuitable place or in rushed circumstances or it's been a while since the last time--I don't like to go back for seconds. I want to remember a woman at her finest, not after so many that it becomes routine. Yeah, so I generally don't see women again after I've gotten them to do the deed. Does that make me an asshole? Probably. But I don't lead them on or give any indication that I'm looking for a relationship. In fact, I usually never sleep with any of them. I generally don't care if I even see them naked, unless it's somehow part of the context of the blow job. I don't mess around with younger women generally, unless they are obviously players. I try to avoid emotionally vulnerable ones too, although they're not so easy to pick out. I stick to the ones that are old enough and wise enough to see me for the self-serving jerk I am and are willing to blow me anyway. * * * * * My first entry, who was in fact the first woman to give me head after I decided to give in to my obsession, is a perfect example of the kind of woman I look for. Anita (no, that's not her real name) works at the company I used to work for. I stayed in touch with a lot of people there and go to happy hours with them from time to time. They go out after work on Thursday nights and it's usually a decent crowd. Most of them are young and single like me, but they include everyone, so there's a broad mix of people. Anita was not a regular at these happy hours, but she did make it out once in a while. This particular night was before a Friday holiday, so there were a lot more people than usual. It was also a bit more festive and ran much later than would ordinarily be the case. Long after the happy hour drink specials were over, half of us were still there, talking, drinking, dancing and just generally having a good time. Anita wasn't part of the twenty-something crowd that went out every week. She was older, in her mid-forties I'd guess. She was divorced with kids, one in college and another in high school. She didn't dress or act like anyone's mother though. Her clothes were tight and often revealing, in a classy way. And her body was one that deserved to be shown off. She was petite, maybe five-one or five-two. It was difficult to say because she always wore high heels. She had C-cup breasts, lusciously curvy hips and terrific legs. Her skirts were usually to her knee or just above. She wore a lot of make-up, but not too much. She certainly didn't look trashy. She had shoulder length curly brown hair with blonde highlights that was always immaculately styled. She wore a lot of jewelry, none of it cheap or gaudy. Everything about her appearance was designed to make men notice her. And they did. It wasn't just her clothes and how they fit her either. She had a wiggle to her walk that could give a man a hard on. She was flirty, bubbly and very touchy feely, at least with men. She was blessed with fine equipment and she knew how to use it. She thrived on getting men's attention, particularly younger guys like me. At the bar that night, Anita was messing around with one of my friends, Pete. He obviously wasn't sure how to take it or what to do. After all, Anita was a good twenty years older than him and had kids almost his age. Anita probably loved making him squirm, knowing that he couldn't help being turned on by her, and not knowing if he should go for it. I was watching at one point when Pete sat back, spread his legs apart and gestured toward his crotch. I couldn't hear their words, but it was kind of obvious what he was saying. Without hesitating, she stood up and reached her hand toward his fly. He jumped, twisted away from her and closed his legs. She laughed and smiled, her pearly white teeth and full, ruby lips taunting him as he blushed. There was no doubt in my mind that if he hadn't pulled away, she would have grabbed his cock through his pants. She wasn't quite that brazen with me. Probably because she knew I would let her grab me. Not that she wouldn't want to, but it was a different kind of thrill she was getting with Pete. She wasn't taking Pete home. He was just a game she was playing. I waited and watched her as our crowd slowly began to thin out. As I said, this was the time when I first decided that I wanted to indulge my blow job obsession and it was no accident that I was hanging around a bar where Anita was. I had often thought about her beautiful red lips, her ring-encrusted fingers with perfectly manicured nails wrapping around my shaft. I figured she would be a good place to start. I didn't know if she actually would or not, but she wouldn't get offended if tried. When the DJ started playing, Anita got up and started dancing. She pulled a bunch of the guys, mostly the younger ones, onto the dance floor. Most of them went reluctantly and for good reason. There wasn't a good dancer among them. I waited until she looked like she was about to give up on them and then went out on the floor. I'm no great dancer, but by comparison I was looking damn good. Anita smiled and said she didn't think I'd ever come out and dance. I smiled back, winked and told her she was looking too good for me to not dance with her. She said something along the lines of, "yeah, right," but her smile got a little bigger. It was too loud on the dance floor to talk much, but I took the opportunity to make lots of eye contact with her and rub up against her ever so lightly. She was the one who raised the bar though, when she turned her back to me and ground her deliciously rounded ass into my crotch. When she turned back to me to gauge my response, I pulled her against me and gyrated my body against hers. She stepped back, but not in any hurry, wagged her finger and gave me her best you-naughty-boy smile. At that point I was pretty sure I had her. "Let me get you a drink," I said to her. "I don't know if I should," she told me. "I have to drive." "I'll drive you home." "I bet you will," she said with a smirk. "But what will it cost me?" I shrugged and said, "Tell me when you're ready to find out." I got the drinks, but we hardly touched them. Ten minutes later, we were in my car headed for Anita's house. On the way I started caressing her leg. She was wearing a tight red skirt that stopped short of her knees. When she sat down, it rode up a little, exposing the lower part of her thigh to the tickling of my fingers. She was getting into it, so I slid my hand slowly up her skirt. I was nearly to her bush when she pulled my hand away. "Not so fast," she said, almost panting. I bet if she had let me, I could have made her cum pretty quickly. I started moving my hand down her thigh again. This time, instead of pushing it away, she reached out and put her hand on my crotch. She started rubbing my cock through my pants and I could feel myself getting hard under her touch. She rubbed and squeezed me for a couple minutes before she unzipped my fly and reached in to pull out my hardened cock. Then she leaned over and put her head down in my lap. My whole body was tingling with anticipation. I could feel her hot breath on the head of my member. But she was in no hurry, no doubt savoring the excruciating suspense I was experiencing. Finally I felt her tongue run up the underside of my shaft, slowly tracing my pulsing vein. She licked up and down a few times, at the same agonizingly slow pace. I didn't know if I could wait any longer to feel her perfect red lips close around my cock. Then it happened. Her mouth came down over the head of my member, her lips sealing around me. She slid them up, almost until I fell out of her mouth. Then she bobbed down again, gently. Once, twice... I could hardly drive. I thought my head would explode from her teasing. Then she let me fall out of her mouth, tucked my rock hard cock back into my pants and sat up. I didn't know what to say or do. I so wanted her to keep going. I will say that she knew how to sexually torment a man. At that instant, I would have said or done anything to get her to continue. A few minutes later I pulled up in front of her house. The lights were all out. Good. No one was home. But Anita didn't invite me it. She gave me a quick kiss and thanked me for driving her home. "You aren't going to invite me in?" I asked. I was surprised and not just a little disappointed. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "My kids could be home any time now." "You've got enough time to finish what you started." She glanced at her watch, then over her shoulder at the darkened house. "I don't know," she said. I knew it was just posturing at this point. Even if she wanted it, she wasn't going to make it easy. She was toying with me, and loving every minute of it. I leaned across the seat and gave her a deep, passionate kiss. Then I kissed her neck in several places. She threw her head back, surrendering her throat to my kisses. Then she pushed me away again. "Ok, come on inside," she said. I guess even if she wasn't sure what she wanted, she didn't want to decide in front of her house where her neighbors would be watching. I've since found this is an effective strategy. Women are often more worried about being seen making out in their driveways then they are about what happens behind closed doors. We went inside and she led me to her living room. She told me to have a seat while she went to get some drinks. She came back a few minutes later with a couple glasses of wine. We both took a couple sips and made a few jokes about getting each other drunk. Then we were making out on the sofa like a couple of high school kids. Our hands and lips were all over each other when I started sliding my hand up under her skirt, tracing the inside of her thigh. This time I got as far as caressing the mound between her thighs before she stopped me. Again her method of stopping me was distraction. She grabbed my swollen shaft through my pants and squeezed it gently. Then she lowered her head into my lap and began rubbing her cheek against me. She was moaning softly as she did. I couldn't see her face, only the waves of her curly hair in my lap, but I'm guessing her eyes were closed. When she started udoing my pants, it was my turn to put on the brakes. I pulled away from her and stood up and retreated a step from the sofa. She looked up in surprise. But when I took her hands and guided her toward me, she understood immediately. She slid off of the sofa and got on her knees on the floor before me. She looked up at me as she unzipped my pants and reached her hand inside. This time I didn't pull away, of course. I had two reasons for standing up. First, a blow job is, by it's nature, a submissive act. So a woman who wants to give head properly should, in my opinion, be on her knees with her man standing over her. I find it incredibly sexy to see a woman on her knees in any context, but especially when she's in front of me unzipping my pants. The second reason was that I wanted to watch. To see Anita's beautiful lips on my shaft; to look into her eyes as she pleasured me. On the sofa as we had been, I could see only the back of her head. This was a much better perspective. Especially since I knew I was in for a repeat of the tantalizing she had been driving me crazy with in the car. I have to say that it started out as a perfect blow job. Anita simply did everything exactly right. I can't think of anything she could have done to make it more exciting or pleasurable. First, her form was excellent. She knelt with her knees together, toes pointed straight out behind her and of course she was still wearing her high heels. Her posture was good, her back slightly arched. Her head, tilted back to look up into my eyes, was below the level of my belt, her lips just below where my shaft was pounding in my pants. Her breast were rubbing on the insides of my legs as she arched into me. As Anita unzipped my pants, she was smiling and joking that she knew she had too much to drink if she was doing this. I doubt alcohol had anything to do with it though. She just wanted it. I could see it in her eyes. As she had done in the car, she took her time, savoring my agony. My cock was rock hard, screaming to be in her mouth, but she wasn't going to be rushed. She pulled my pants down, my stiff member almost slapping her in the face. She took it in her hand and rubbed it on her cheek, then on her lips and then the other cheek. She was watching me the whole time, clearly wanting to see what she was doing to me. She planted a wet kiss on the head of my shaft and ran her fingers lightly along it. She slipped her other hand underneath and gently stroked my balls. She had to see it was killing me, but if anything, that made her go even slower. Finally, she paused with her face a couple inches from the end of my cock and, looking up at me, opened her mouth. Her tongue came out, like she was about to receive communion. She was getting closer, closer... in a few more seconds I'd be inside... She pulled back abruptly. "Maybe I shouldn't do this," she said. My heart skipped a beat, my head spinning. I couldn't think clearly. Was she really going to stop now? She must have seen the look of panic on my face, because she laughed at me. "What? Like you really want some old lady like me to do you." "You're one of the sexiest women I've ever met in my life." It just popped out of my mouth before I even realized it. It wasn't just the heat of the moment either, although I would have said anything. She was an incredibly sexy woman. "Good answer!" she laughed. "Just don't stop," I begged her. "Don't worry. You're going to go home with a smile on your face." She leaned forward and opened her mouth again. "You want me to put it in my mouth, don't you?" I nodded and moaned. "Mmmm... well, I want you in my mouth." With that, her lips parted and her mouth slid down my pole. She bobbed slowly a couple of times and looked up at me. "Yeah, just like that," she said, slipping me back into her warm, wet mouth. Her form was perfect. She held her body steady and bobbed her head from the neck. She went slow and steady, taking in at least three-quarters of my rod each time. Deep and slow she sucked, her eyes closed one minute, looking up at me the next. To me a woman never looks more beautiful than she does on her knees with my cock in her mouth. Anita was stunningly gorgeous at that moment. Her ruby red lips were stretched around my tool, leaving a trail of shiny saliva on me. Her hands massaged the base of my shaft and caressed my balls. She continued sucking me that way, not speeding up or stroking me with her hands. She paused from time to time to lick my head or my balls, but each time she resumed at the same leisurely pace. The pressure was building in me. It was so incredibly sensuous, the way her mouth engulfed me and drove me crazy with pleasure. I was in desperate need of release, but her unhurried pace wasn't going to make it happen any time soon. Rather, it just built up the pressure, making the pleasure almost too excruciating to bear. When she looked up at me, it was too much to take and I had to look away. I writhed, my insides quivering as she relentlessly sucked my cock. She continued that way for maybe ten minutes, but it seemed like forever. A couple times I got close to cumming, but she must have sensed it, because she'd stop and lick me gently for a minute, waiting for me to pull back from the brink. Then she would wrap her lips around me and take me deep into her mouth again, over and over and over... I wanted to run my hands through that gorgeous hair of hers, but I couldn't move. I couldn't caress her face, run my fingers across the back of her neck or anything that I liked to do to a woman while she was giving me head. I was paralyzed. All I could do was stand there and let Anita torment me with her incredible mouth. "Had enough yet?" she asked and kissed the base of my shaft. "Oh, God!" was all I could say. She had me and she knew it. I watched as my member, glistening with her saliva, disappeared into her mouth again. My body shook involuntarily. I had to cum and I had to cum soon! But Anita wasn't done toying with me yet. She resumed her deep, sensuous sucking, knowing perfectly well she was killing me. This time when I got close though she didn't stop. Instead, she added some soft moaning to her steady bobbing. It was enough to bring me to a boil. I felt myself stiffen. I cried out as my body spasmed in orgasm. Just as I came, she pulled me from her mouth, pointed my cock at her breasts and stroked me vigorously with her hand. It was an incredible orgasm.. I could hardly see straight as I watched my load splatter her chest and blouse. She continued pumping me, eliciting a few smaller spurts until I was completely spent. She grasped me firmly by the base of my member, milking out the last little dribble of sperm and wiped it on the front of her blouse. She held my cock in her hand a moment longer, looking at it and slowly stroking it. Then Anita planted a kiss on the head and tucked it back into my pants. Sitting back on her heels, she looked down at herself. Splatters of cum were all over the front of her elegant silk blouse. A thick wad of it was running down her chest into her cleavage. "Wow, somebody really needed to blow their top," she laughed. "Now you better get out of here and let me get cleaned up before my kids get home." * * * * * All in all, it was a pretty awesome blow job. If I had to write a book on how a woman should give head, I would use Anita as an example. At least for the first three-quarters of her performance. Elegantly dressed, down on her knees, playful, teasing and deliberately tantalizing... My only disappointment was that she didn't let me cum in her mouth. Big deal, you say. After all, she jerked me off all over her tits. That should be good enough, right? But it isn't. I'm not entirely sure why. I don't know that it enhances the actual physical pleasure in the slightest, but I always want to be in the woman's mouth when I unload. Anita certainly gave me a spectacular orgasm. But I left slightly disappointed that she hadn't tasted my cum. And also that she hadn't swallowed. Again, swallowing has nothing to do with physical aspect, but there is something erotic about it that makes it the perfect ending to a beautifully submissive act. Face it, don't men (maybe women, too) look at a woman differently when they know she swallows? Why? I'm not sure. Maybe because it's a tangible measure of how far she'll go to please a man: she knows you're going to fill her mouth with hot, sticky, nasty tasting goop and she not only does the deed anyway, but drinks down your seed like it was nectar. What a woman! The Collector 01 Don't get me wrong. I never want a woman to do something that wasn't of her own accord. I've never asked a woman to let me cum in her mouth or to swallow. I don't like to tell a woman how I'd want her to give me head. I'd much rather have her do what she wants, the way she wants. Sometimes, like with Anita, I get far more than I could have ever asked for. Other times I get less than I would want, but at least I get a variety. Anyway, to rate Anita on a one-to-ten scale (yes, that's very rude, I know, but I've got to catalog them somehow), I'd have to say she was a nine. If she had swallowed, she would have been a ten, no doubt about it. But it's probably just as well she didn't. It might have set a standard too high for me to appreciate any of the blow jobs I got afterward. The Collector 02 Looking back over my last entry, it seems I might have been a little wordy. But I don't know that I would want to leave any of it out, so I guess it's good I left it as-is. Every woman and every blow job that I record here deserves to be presented in context. What's the point of just describing the sexual act itself if it's just a faceless name out of nowhere? Many of these encounters were cultivated slowly, over a period of time. To leave out how these women came to give me head would make it seem like there was an endless stream of them, walking in my door and blowing me. There's a lot more to it (and to them) than that. Anita was the first woman that I received a blow job from after I made a conscious decision to pursue my perverse obsession. But it wasn't like I was living in a monastery before that. I was working on a few other situations before I started this little quest. Since I've begun, I've found that it's good to keep a lot of irons in the fire. Some take quite a while to pay off, if they ever do. Others develop rather quickly. It's all very unpredictable, so I work to keep a lot of potential blow jobs going at once. Like I said, Anita was first so it was easy to put her first in my journal. The rest of them are in no particular order because there's a lot of overlap, situations developing concurrently and all. And some are just more fun to write about, so naturally I'll get to those sooner. The next one for the archives is Caitlyn. What made Caitlyn unusual was that she was the aggressor. Not that I've never had a woman come on to me before, of course. I don't mean to imply any gender stereotypes either. What I mean is that Caitlyn pursued me with the sole purpose of sucking my cock. She wasn't looking for a boyfriend and she wasn't looking to get laid. She just wanted to suck cock and I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Caitlyn was hired as a temp where I work several months ago. When I first met her, she was kneeling on the floor, putting files in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. I think I mentioned that I love the sight of a woman on her knees, so obviously my mind turned immediately to thoughts of her sucking me and how I could make that happen. As it turned out, the bigger challenge was holding her off long enough to build up the anticipation. Caitlyn was somewhere in her late twenties. She had brown hair that tumbled in waves and curls to the middle of her back and bright blue eyes. She seemed to have a nice body, but it was hard to say because of the way she dressed. She wore jeans to work most of the time. Not that I mind jeans, but slacks are nicer and dresses or skirts nicer still. Caitlyn did look good in jeans though. She had a great ass, firm from working out. I don't think her breasts were big, but it was tough to tell because most of the blouses she wore hid them. At any rate, she certainly wasn't the exhibitionist type. It wasn't that Caitlyn didn't want get men's attention, as I was to find out. She just didn't use anything as subtle as clothes. I introduced myself to her on a Tuesday and on Wednesday I had three people tell me that she had been asking about me. Asking a lot about me. Which I thought was a good sign, since I certainly was hoping to get with her. Little did I know. So that Friday I asked Caitlyn if she'd like to go out for a drink after work. "My ex is picking up the kids tonight, but maybe I could after that," Caitlyn told me. "Is there a place near you we could meet?" I gave her the name of a bar that was close, but not too close, to my apartment. I met her there around 7 o'clock and we managed to find seats at the bar. We ordered drinks and made polite chit chat for a little while. At one point I asked her how she liked the job she was doing at my company. "Well, the work's a bit boring, the pay isn't that hot, but at least there's a few good looking guys," she replied, giving a long look into my eyes. I've always found it to be electric when a woman makes eye contact like that. It's like everyone has a clock in their head and they know exactly how to meet someone else's gaze and look away without it meaning anything. Eye contact that lasts longer than that takes on a sexual charge. Caitlyn looked into my eyes well beyond the point where it started to get exciting. It lasted long enough that I actually started getting aroused. We talked for a while longer and every once in a while we'd lock eyes again. I felt my body tingling with the energy those moments created. We had been there less than an hour and were about half way through our second round of drinks when Caitlyn abruptly drained the rest of her glass of wine. "So let's go to your place," she said, placing her empty glass back on the bar. "What's your hurry?" I asked, hoping none of the nervous anticipation I was suddenly feeling showed in my voice. She leaned toward me and whispered, "I so want to suck you off." Ordinarily, the next thing a guy would say is, "Check, please." But I didn't. Partly, I admit, it was just surprise. I thought things were going well between us, but I didn't know they were going that well. But after the shock wore off, I realized that I wasn't in a hurry anyway. There hadn't been enough build-up. The anticipation leading up to a blow job to be almost as exciting as the act itself. I like to fantasize a bit about how I'm going to get her on her knees, get my cock into her mouth. I was about to be deprived of these thrills by Caitlyn's forwardness. "I see," I began cautiously. "Just like that?" "I've wanted to since the moment I first met you," she replied. Now I have been accused of having an ego, perhaps liking myself too much, but I know that women generally don't just look at me and want to blow me (sorry to say). "How could you know that you'd want to do that just by meeting me?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I just did." "Do you often meet men and right away want to do that?" I persisted. I was hoping that I wasn't annoying her with these questions. As curious as I was about what would make her want to do it, I didn't want to ruin the opportunity. But she seemed pretty candid about it. "When I meet a hot guy, yeah," she said. "I start thinking about it. Now let's hurry up and get back to your place before I have to do it in the parking lot." She laughed and started to get off of her bar stool. "Whoa! Not so fast!" I said. "You just met me and knew you wanted to go down on me?" "Sure. Why is that so surprising? You're a hot guy, probably got a pretty nice package. Which if you'd take me back to your place, I could find out for sure." She really seemed to be getting impatient. I obviously didn't want to irritate a woman who just told me she wants to suck my cock, but I wanted to know more. "Okay," I said. "If I promise that we'll go straight from here to my place and I'll let you do what you want, will you let me ask you a few more questions before we leave?" "Why?" She seemed puzzled that any man would hesitate in the face of such an offer. "I've never met a woman who was so forward about it. That's all." I shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to know what makes you want to do that to a guy you hardly know." "What? Only men are supposed to be aggressive?" "No," I said, trying to choose my words carefully. "I've just always thought that a bj was a kind of one-sided thing. That a guy gets all the pleasure and the woman gets, well... It just seems..." I couldn't think of how to finish. "Well, I really get off on it," Caitlyn said, as if daring me to challenge her assertion. "I love to suck. Better than anything else I can think of." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "Now let's go. If you've got more questions, save them for in between innings." I wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but I liked the sound of it. I finished my drink and followed her out of the bar. I wasn't put off by the tables being turned or anything like that. I have no problem with a woman knowing what she wants and asking for it. But I am always curious to know what a woman's motivation is to go down on a man. In a normal, mutual relationship where both partners care about the other's sexual satisfaction, it's a no-brainer. But when there's no reciprocation involved, why would a woman be as intent as Caitlyn to gratify a man? How was she deriving pleasure from it? Believe it or not, I really was pondering this as I led Caitlyn back to my place. I made sure I could always see her headlights in my rear-view mirror though. Whatever her reasons were, the bottom line was she wanted to suck my dick and I wanted to let her. We got to my place and went inside. Caitlyn took a cursory look around the apartment, but it was clear she wasn't really interested in my decorating choices. I offered her a drink, but she shook her head. "I think you've made me wait long enough," she announced. With that, Caitlyn stepped up to me and put her hand on my crotch and started rubbing me. "I want you in my mouth." We had barely walked in the door and were still standing in the middle of the living room. So much for savoring the anticipation. Caitlyn got down on her knees and started tugging at my belt. A moment later, my pants were around my ankles and my cock was in her hand. Everything had happened so quickly, that I wasn't even fully aroused yet. I was only about three-quarters erect, but I quickly grew to full size when she took me deep into her mouth. "Mmmmm," Caitlyn hummed as I hardened on her tongue. "God," she moaned, letting my glistening shaft slip from her lips. "I love feeling a cock get hard in my mouth." That fast, I was rock-hard. Caitlyn's one hand was wrapped firmly around the base of my member, the other cupped around the cheek of my ass as she knelt before me. She pumped me slowly, licking my head and vein. Then she slipped her lips over me and began bobbing rapidly up and down on me. I was surprised by the suddenness of her attack. Just moments after walking into my apartment she was sucking me furiously. It wasn't just how quickly we got down to business. It was also the speed and intensity of her blow job right out of the gate. I guess she wanted to make me cum right away. But I like to take my time and enjoy getting head, so I did my best to hold out. After about five minutes she slowed her pace. She looked up at me as she sucked slower. It was awesome to look into her bright blue eyes as her lips glided easily up and down my shaft. She was on her knees, which always makes it a bit more exciting to me. Her calves and feet were splayed out to either side though... not the perfect form of my previous journal entry, Anita, but still better than squatting. Caitlyn took a few long, deep sucks as our gazes stayed locked on each other. "I want you to cum in my mouth," she said between bobs. "Mmmmmm," she breathed, closing her eyes and taking my shaft almost down to the base before drawing her lips back up it. She was either really enjoying it or she was quite a convincing actress. Even as I wondered why she would want me to fill her mouth with my sperm, I felt myself stiffen. She must have felt it too, because she resumed her fast-paced bobbing. A minute later I groaned as my hips twitched and my balls tightened. She looked up at me and I looked down at her just as I erupted, pumping gobs of hot cum into her mouth. I watched her brow furrow involuntarily in a slight frown at the taste of my sperm. But she continued sucking, drawing out every last spurt and dribble that was left in me. Then she squeezed me with her hand and stroked upward, milking the last drops out. She licked my head clean and stood up. Without a word, she turned and went into the kitchen. I couldn't see her, but I heard her turn the water on and off again. She came back to the living room as I was buttoning my pants back up. "That was way too much for me to swallow," Caitlyn told me. "If I swallow that much, I usually get sick." She smiled and shrugged. I was mildly surprised with Caitlyn's candid way of talking. She wanted to give me head, so she came right out and told me so. I had just cum in her mouth and now she was explaining why she spit it out the same way she might explain why she didn't like a particular shade of blue. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way," I said slowly, trying to figure out how to satisfy my curiosity without offending her. "But I have to ask... uh, why... I mean, uh, what..." I paused, took a deep breath and tried again. "What do you get out of that? I mean, obviously I enjoyed it, but I can't imagine it was nearly as good for you." "Mind if we sit down?" she asked, apparently undisturbed by my questions. I nodded and we sat on the sofa facing each other. "Okay, what don't you understand? Why I wanted to suck you off?" "Yeah, I guess so." "Don't you ever look at a hot girl and want to eat her out?" Caitlyn asked. "Sure, but that's usually not all I want to do," I replied. "But you do like to do that to a woman, don't you?" "Sure," I agreed. "But not so much that I only want to do that." I felt like she was missing the point of my question. "I've never cum while eating a woman. Sometimes I don't even get that hard when I'm concentrating on her." "Well, I have cum a couple times while giving head," Caitlyn said. "It's rare, but it happens. Usually it's more exciting when there's a chance of getting caught in the act, if you know what I mean." "So if you know you're probably not going to cum while you're doing it, and you weren't expecting me to do anything for you in return, what's in it for you?" "First," she said, "I don't like to be eaten out. Just don't like it at all." I wasn't surprised. I had been with women before who felt the same. "Second, I've never had an orgasm during sex with a man, so..." She shrugged. "But a nice thick cock in my mouth... mmmmm, just thinking about it makes me wet all over again!" "Okay, so you get turned on by doing it, right?" "Absolutely! I could suck on a cock every day." "But you don't like the taste of cum, do you?" "Well, no. It can be pretty gross. Some guys are less nasty than others, but none of them taste like chocolate." She laughed. "Why are you so interested?" "I was just wondering why you'd do it when it seems like there's so much less in it for you than for me. And you wind up with a mouthful of something unpleasant for your trouble." It seemed like the best answer I was going to get was, she did it because she liked it. Plain and simple. I wondered how many other women out there did it solely because they liked the act itself. "I don't think you understand," she said, leaning forward and stroking me through my pants. "A hard cock in my mouth makes me sooo wet. Sucking a guy until he explodes... oh, God I'm getting turned on again just thinking about it." She rubbed her face on my crotch where my cock was beginning to stir again. "Feeling it pulsing on my tongue... " She put her mouth on my pants and exhaled. I could feel the heat of her breath on me as my member started to grow. Her back arched and her hips gyrated as she continued to rub her face on me. It was obvious she was getting turned on, but I still had my questions. Sure, giving sexual pleasure can be exciting, but how could it be enough by itself? "So it's enough for you to get a guy off, even though he doesn't get you off?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady as Caitlyn face massaged my member. "Oh, yeah," she purred into my zipper. "I love it when a man cums in my mouth." Her hips gave a little shimmy for emphasis. "But you don't like the taste of cum." "No, but it's no big deal," she said, sitting up. "It's a small price to pay to have a man's cock unload in my mouth." She undid my pants and started tugging them down again. "God, I love sucking cock. Especially a nice thick one like yours." I lifted myself up so Caitlyn could slide my pants down. A moment later they were lying across the room and she had my cock in her hand again. She got on her knees between my legs and began running her tongue up and down the insides of my thighs. If I hadn't just cum five minutes ago, I would have been rock hard again. Even so, I was already close to three quarters erect. Holding me by the base of my shaft, Caitlyn touched my head lightly on her tongue as she watched my reaction. Then she enveloped my whole member in her warm, wet mouth and I felt myself spring to full attention. "Oh, yeah," she whispered. "I love a hard cock in my mouth." I moaned softly, turned on as much by what she was saying as by what she was doing. She licked and sucked me all over, taking my balls in her mouth, then my shaft. She took her time, teasing me with her lips, tongue and hands. She pumped me slowly as her tongue ran over my balls and up my shaft to my red, swollen head. When her lips finally wrapped around me and began sliding up and down on my rigid member, I threw my head back and grunted. It just felt so good. Caitlyn bobbed steadily on me, almost as fast as the first time. If I hadn't just unloaded, I probably would have cum in the first five minutes. Her mouth felt spectacular on me. There is nothing quite like getting two blow jobs back-to-back. It takes a determined woman to keep at it long enough to get me off a second time, but talk about a really gut-wrenching orgasm. I've only had the pleasure a couple of times, but those were two of the best orgasms I've ever had. I should point out that it takes more than just determination on the woman's part. She has to have good technique too. If her teeth are digging into me or she's too rough, it can ruin it. To get that second eruption, she has to keep up a good pace for quite a while and it can be difficult to maintain a silky smooth and lips only performance. So it's no easy task for her and no man should let her feel like a failure if she doesn't get him off a second time. That wasn't going to be a problem for Caitlyn though. She didn't have particularly full lips, but when she wrapped them around my cock and started bobbing like crazy, I never felt any teeth. A lesser woman might have used her hands to give her mouth a break, but not Caitlyn. Once she got her mouth over my cock, she stayed right on it. Her hands were gripping my thighs as she buried her head in my lap over and over. Often she came down far enough that I could feel my head hitting the back of her throat. I ran my fingers through her hair and caressed her cheeks as she sucked tirelessly on my shaft. I don't know if she even felt my touch though, as all of her attention was focused on my cock. I pushed her hair back from her face to look into her eyes, but they were closed. After about ten minutes of her bobbing non-stop on my rod, I began to worry that Caitlyn would run out of steam before I came. But she never slowed down. Not even once. She knelt between my legs and sucked and sucked and sucked. It was probably another ten minutes after that when I finally felt myself building to eruption. She must have felt it too because she started slamming herself down harder and faster on my pulsing shaft. It was the feeling of the head of my cock pounding against the back of her throat that finally put me over the top. My hips bucked and my back arched, my hands grabbing the cushions of the sofa in a white-knuckle death grip. I hung there for what seemed like forever, perched in mid-orgasm. Then my cum squirted into Caitlyn's mouth, causing me to tremble with release. It was just one little spurt (After all, she had just sucked my dry less than a half hour before.), but it was incredible. Caitlyn continued to suck on me, even as I started to go limp, draining every last drop from me. When she finally took me from her mouth, I was totally spent. I sat there on my sofa, wearing only my shirt and a smile, breathing heavily. Caitlyn sat back on her heels and looked up at me. The Collector 02 "Hope you liked that," she said. "Oh, yeah." I guess that sounded a bit dumb, but what else could I say? She gave my shrinking member a last kiss and then got up and said she had to get home for some lame reason. I didn't even get up off of the sofa when she left. I sat there another fifteen minutes, enjoying the mellow feeling that comes from getting back-to-back blow jobs. Caitlyn was a pretty good cock sucker. I give her very high marks for enthusiasm and stamina. Overall, I'd have to give her an eight on the ol' one-to-ten scale. I know what you're thinking. If it was such a great orgasm, why rate her so low? Well, true, it was exceptional, that second orgasm. And that figures into the score, believe me. But there's more to it than that. First, Caitlyn, who is a good looking woman, dressed in unflattering, almost tom-boyish clothes. For whatever reason, skirts and blouses or dresses excite me far more than tee shirts and jeans. Second, despite her claim that she loved giving head, there wasn't anything about the way she did it that conveyed that. Yes, she gave a marathon performance, but it was more like she was on a mission than enjoying herself. There wasn't much playfulness. Nor did we make out or do anything to really get our juices flowing, so I'm still not sure what she got out of it. Third, she was great at straightforward sucking, one of the best I've ever had. But it wasn't particularly erotic and there was nothing special about the way she gave head. Other than her endurance, nothing stands out as unique. Lastly, she didn't swallow. At least my first load she didn't. I assume she swallowed the second, considerably smaller load. But the first one went down the drain of my kitchen sink. True, she took my cum in her mouth both times and at least swallowed some of it. But I've got to deduct points for spitting out the first one. All in all, it was a very satisfying blow job, although I wouldn't use Caitlyn as an example of how to give head. Her desire and energy, not to mention her perseverance, more than make up for the things I've listed (I always feel petty, making a list like that). Her candor about what she wanted and her aggressive way of getting it make her a noteworthy addition to my collection. I've had a few opportunities since to get blow jobs from her, but I haven't really pursued it. For her part, Caitlyn hasn't pushed the matter either. I suspect she's on her own quest and would prefer to sample men she hasn't already been with. Who knows? I might take her up on it again some time. There is something inherently sexy about a woman who just wants to suck cock. The Collector 03 There is another wrinkle to my obsession that I haven't really touched on: I prefer older women. Why? Well, a few basic reasons are that they're more approachable, they know what they like and they aren't as worried about what people think of them. But the real reason is because they generally see oral sex much differently than younger women. I grew up in a world where people learn about safe sex at an early age. It's no surprise that many of us saw oral sex as a less risky alternative to intercourse. Because of that, oral sex has taken on a status of something more casual than intercourse. It's somewhere between heavy petting and screwing. However, for many women who grew up years before me, putting a cock in their mouth is something far more intimate than taking it into their pussy. So naturally when I get a blow job from a woman from this older generation, it means more to me because it's a bigger deal in her mind to do that. I know there are exceptions, older women who aren't uptight about it, and for them it may be no different than for a girl my age. It's just a generalization, but it gives me an incentive to seek out women fifteen and twenty years older than me. My next entry is one of my favorites in this particular twist of my blow job obsession. I have a friend who lives in a rather pricey neighborhood and travels a lot for business. His wife is a freelance writer and usually travels with him. They're often gone for a week or two at a time and need someone to take care of their dog and keep an eye on the house. The last year or so I've been helping them out this way on a regular basis. Their house, aside from being big, well-furnished and, compared to my apartment, luxurious, is also a bit closer to where I work. So I would stay the week, take care of the dog and live the good life. If that was all there was to it, it would still be a great deal for me. But as I was to find out, house sitting had benefits I never anticipated. Part of taking care of the dog, AJ, included taking him for walks around the neighborhood. I usually threw on a tank top and some ratty old gym shorts and off we went. I admit, I consciously wear clothes that attract attention and this is a careful calculation on my part. I want to show myself off, since I do keep myself in good shape, but with clothes that would make it easy to deny I was. Who wears ratty clothes to get attention, right? In other words, I want to get noticed without being obvious that I'm trying. So I would take AJ around this ritzy neighborhood in a tank top and shorts. I made sure to smile and say hi to everyone I passed. On rare occasions I would actually have a brief conversation, usually revolving around AJ. Like I said, I had a pretty good deal just doing the house sitting. I really wasn't actively pursuing my obsession; I just wasn't ruling anything out either. There was one woman who was often out working in her flower gardens when I went by and I always said hi to her. I house sat in late April, again in the middle of May and again at the end of May. She joked once that she saw more of me than she did of my friends. By the time I was house sitting in late May, we had introduced ourselves and had had several brief conversations. Her name was Eileen. She was married, no children and her husband traveled frequently. She was in her mid-to-late forties and hadn't worked in some time. I gathered from her comments that giving up her job hadn't been her idea. She was petite, pretty and always well-groomed despite the fact that she was usually gardening when I saw her. She had dark brown hair cut short in a very businesslike fashion. She had brown eyes, a delicate, slightly upturned nose and a crooked smile. Her body was nice, although she was probably carrying a little extra weight. Her legs were smooth and shapely, her ass round and full and her breasts were small, but perky. Eileen wasn't a woman who ever really turned men's heads, but she was very attractive in her way. It certainly didn't hurt my opinion of her that half the times I saw her she was on her knees in her garden. Still, I wasn't going to be too forward with my friend's neighbors. Especially not the married ones. But I had given it some thought, so I can't claim what happened was totally accidental. I was talking to Eileen during one of AJ's walks--she had made herself more and more available for conversations--when I let a casual joke slip out. We had been discussing my friends' house and Eileen said she had never been inside. So I started telling her about the huge sectional sofa, the big screen TV and all of the things that make it a real treat for me to stay there. "Pop your head in sometime and take a look," I offered. "Thanks, but no," she said. At first I thought she just meant she didn't want to seem nosey, but then she said, "The way this neighborhood gossips, I wouldn't want to be seen going into the house with you. They'll be saying I'm cheating." She smiled wanly. "Just tell them that oral sex isn't considered cheating." I meant it as a joke. In fact, it just came out of my mouth before I thought about it. It's something I would have said to someone I knew much better without hesitation, but I didn't really know Eileen. She looked at me with a slightly stunned expression, her jaw slack, her eyebrows arched. I quickly apologized and made an excuse to get out of there. I hadn't planned any of that, but I probably couldn't have played it better if I had. While I don't deny I had thought about Eileen, I certainly wasn't making any moves on her. What I wound up doing was planting a seed in her mind. It was inadvertent. At least in as much as I wasn't really trying to. But I have to say, I was glad that I did. A couple days later I was walking AJ again and Eileen was outside. We just said hi to each other as I passed and I assumed that I had alienated her with my inappropriate joke. The following day, the last one of the current house sitting stint, I saw her outside again and decided I should apologize again. Eileen seemed like a nice person and if she was offended by what I said, she had a right to be. I never like to offend people or hurt their feelings. When I do, which happens despite best intentions, I do try to make amends. "Hi," I said to her as AJ and I came up to her. Eileen smiled slightly and said hi. "I just wanted to apologize for the other day," I said. "I shouldn't have said anything so crass." Eileen dismissed my apology with a wave of her hand. "No need," she said. "It just caught me off guard. I do have a sense of humor. You just surprised me is all." "Well, I didn't mean to offend you," I told her. "Anyway, Mike and Carol will be back tomorrow, so you won't have to worry about their ill-mannered house sitter anymore. Not until their next trip anyway." I saw a funny look cross her face. I wasn't really sure what it meant and it vanished in an instant. I pretended I hadn't noticed and continued making small talk with her for a few more minutes before continuing on my way. By the time I was a couple houses away, I had completely forgotten about it. It wasn't until after the fact that I realized what that expression was about. That night I was making myself comfortable as usual in my borrowed accommodations. I had grabbed a beer out of the fridge and was using the high speed internet connection to do some on-line dating. (More on that in another entry.) It was a work night, so I was pretty much settled in for the night. I was startled when the doorbell rang. I was even more surprised when I looked through the peep hole and saw Eileen standing there. "Hi," I said as I opened the door. "Wasn't expecting company." "I just thought I'd take you up on the offer to see the house," Eileen said. The way she said it made me think of a bad high school play performer reciting a memorized line. But I'm not one to leave a lady standing on the doorstep. I invited her in and offered her a drink. "Wine would be nice," she said as she looked around. I brought her a glass, noticing that she wasn't really showing more than perfunctory interest in the decor. I led her around room to room. She acknowledged the nicer items and made a few comments, but her distraction was becoming more and more evident. By the time I hade guided her around the whole house, her glass was empty. "Could you freshen this for me?" she asked. Now I'm no fool and I knew something was up. But I like to play it cool until I see what the game is. So I brought Eileen another glass of wine and waited to see what she would do or say. I should mention that I noticed what she was wearing, as I was doubtlessly supposed to. I was used to seeing her in baggy shorts and cotton blouses in which she did her gardening. Tonight she was wearing a thin, pastel sundress, low cut and fairly short. At least, considering how modest I thought Eileen would be it seemed short. And I could see no panty lines, and I'm a guy who notices a thing like that. When I handed her the glass of wine, I said and did nothing to indicate I'd noticed anything unusual about her clothes or behavior. I smiled as she took a sip, more of a gulp actually, of her wine and waited. I should point out that I was making lots of eye contact with her. For her part, she was trying to meet my eyes, and would for a moment, but then would look away. There was definitely a charge when our gazes met. But I wasn't sure where things were going yet. "Okay," Eileen said suddenly, putting her wine glass down. "We both know I didn't come over to see the house. And we both know that little comment of yours the other day was no accident." She paused, perhaps waiting for me to say or do something, but I was content to let her do the talking. She picked up her glass and took another gulp. She looked at me and I knew she wanted me to agree or at least encourage her to continue. I know she must have been feeling incredibly vulnerable at that moment, so I didn't leave her hanging too long. "What do you mean?" I asked. "What you said the other day," Eileen replied, gesturing with her hand. She said it as if it explained everything. Still I waited. "It is cheating, you know" she continued. I nodded in agreement. I was starting to get turned on. She was dancing around subjects like oral sex and cheating. She was dressed to be noticed. I almost couldn't wait any longer, but I managed to remain outwardly calm. "Would you like to sit down?" I gestured to the sofa. We sat down and a long moment passed where neither of us said anything. We just looked at each other. "My husband always hated doing that," she blurted out. "I always wanted it more. But he wouldn't." Eileen wasn't looking at me now. Her gaze was on the floor in front of her. She shrugged. It dawned on me finally why she was here. It wasn't to have sex (intercourse, that is) with me or give me head. No, she was here to get oral sex. I know what you're thinking. What a disappointment to a blow job fiend like me, right? Hardly. Pleasing a woman is a wonderful thing and I have, if I may be slightly immodest, some pretty successful techniques. Besides, one thing I've always found is you've got to give a little to get a little. "I, uh... this was a mistake," Eileen said, getting to her feet. I didn't panic, but I knew I needed to say something. She started toward the door. "So you took what I said as an invitation?" I asked. She stopped and shrugged. "Wasn't it?" Eileen asked, without turning to look at me. "I mean, come on. You're obviously a player. Why else would you say that?" She turned to face me. I started to protest, but she held her hand out and shook her head, making any denial useless. I could see that the next move was up to me or she was going to turn tail and run. I stood and guided her back to the sofa. She went willingly, but she seemed brittle, suddenly very tense. I sat down beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder. I could almost feel the tension radiating from her. I aimed to change that. I leaned toward her and gave her lips a soft kiss. I heard her breath catch and then release at this slight trespass. I knew if I moved too quickly, she would lose her nerve and go home. I kissed her again, a little longer and deeper this time then I backed away, looking at her eyes to gauge her response. At first her eyes remained closed, expecting another kiss. When the opened, I looked into them intently with what I hoped was a warm, reassuring expression on my face. She started to say something, but I laid my index finger gently on her lips. "Shhhhh," I breathed and kissed her again, laying my hand on her thigh as I did. It took several more kisses and some gentle caressing of her shoulder and thigh, but slowly I felt Eileen's muscles relax. Her breaths became deeper, almost a sighing. She was almost ready. "Are you sure you want this?" I whispered in her ear. A slight cry escaped her as she nodded her head. That was all I needed to hear. My hand that had been massaging her lower thigh began to work its way under the hem of her dress. I felt a shiver run through her as my hand glided along the inside of her thigh. A low moan broke from her lips as my fingers reached her mound. As I suspected, she was wearing nothing under her dress. When I reached the top of her leg, I felt her soft pubic hair. I tickled her gently with a finger for a moment before getting between her legs. Eileen lay back on the sofa, one leg on the floor, the other hiked up beside her, exposing her pussy to me. I ran my tongue along her thighs as my fingers continued to lightly brush the outside of her box. Eileen's mound was covered with thick black hair. It was a neatly trimmed full triangle, which I like better than the "landing strip" or shaved look. I brushed my nose through her pubes as I jumped my tongue from one thigh to the other. "Ahhhh!" Eileen moaned, her hips bucking. "Oh, God. Lick me. Lick me, please." I took my time working up first one thigh, then the other. By the time I actually put my tongue to her clit, she was practically ready to cum. I gave her some slow, light licks just to get her started, but it was enough to send her into a frenzy. I felt like a rodeo cowboy trying to stay on her as her hips gyrated and bucked. "Oh! Oh, God!" she screamed after only a minute or two of my attentions. Her back arched and her body quivered as she climaxed. As she settled back onto the sofa, I began a slow steady licking of her clit, running my tongue lazily over and around it. Within five minutes, her body was twitching and thrashing as another orgasm built up. When she came the second time, she threw her head back to scream, but no sound escaped, just voiceless air rushing out of her as she exploded again. I continued to lick her for at least another fifteen or twenty minutes. I'm not sure if she came again, but most of the time she was bucking, squirming and crying out. I could see the sweat glistening on her face as she panted and moaned and gyrated her hips in ecstasy. Finally, she pushed me away. "No more," she sighed. "Can't take any more." I gave her one last lick, sucking her clit up between my lips and running my tongue across it. Then I pulled back and sat up. I suspected what would happen next and had already decided how I would play it. Sure enough, once Eileen had caught her breath, she sat forward on the sofa and reached forward and reached for my pants. "Oh God that was good," she whispered as she put her hand on my crotch and started to rub me through my shorts. "Put it in me," she said. "Can't do that," I told her, gently (if reluctantly) pulling her hand away. "You're married." "Little late to worry about that, isn't it?" she asked, with a bemused smile. "Not really. I can still honestly say I haven't slept with a married woman." "You've got me there," she laughed. "I guess I should at least offer to return the favor, but..." "But what?" I asked. "Well, I don't... I haven't, well, you know..." Eileen's face grew slightly red. "I told you, my husband and I, we just don't..." "That's okay," I told her. "You don't have to do anything for me." "But after that," Eileen replied, sighing, "I really want to. I just, you know..." If she was inexperienced, it could still be good. After all, it isn't that difficult for a woman to please a man with her mouth. If she was just reluctant though, I would rather pass. First, as I've said before, I don't want a woman to do anything for me that she doesn't want to. Second, about the only way a woman can ruin a blow job is to not want to give one. The willingness of a woman to take a cock in her mouth is a big part of the turn on. "Another time," I said and got up off the sofa. I offered her a hand up. She took my hand, stood and straightened her dress. "I thought tonight was your last night here," Eileen said. "Yeah, but I'm sure I'll be back again the way those two travel." She looked at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And you think I'd ever do this again? This is a one-shot deal," she said, holding up her hand to show her wedding band. "I can't take a chance like this again." "Then I'm glad we made the most of it," I said and gave her a peck of a kiss. "It really was my pleasure." "Yes, but I'm not sure I want it to be over yet." Eileen reached out for my pants again. "I don't know if I'm any good at this, but I want to try." She pulled me back to the sofa and I sat down obediently. Eileen sat on the sofa beside me and undid my pants. My cock was hard and getting harder at the thought of her lips around it. She looked up at me with a bashful crooked smile and then lowered her head into my lap. She held my cock gingerly between her thumb and first two fingers and began kissing it all over. I gave her a sigh of encouragement and settled back into the cushions of the sofa. She continued kissing it for several minutes. I wasn't sure if she just didn't know what to do next, how soon to go on, or if she was just not ready to have me in her mouth. I started to fidget a little bit and was getting ready to stand up and forget the whole thing when I finally felt her tongue on my shaft. Again, she seemed to spend a lot, perhaps too much, time licking me. I enjoy being licked, don't get me wrong. But usually it's not all I'm getting. Women with more experience will alternate licks and sucks and kisses to keep me stimulated. Again, I wasn't sure what was holding her back, but I was thinking that maybe this wasn't such a great idea and I should stop her. I pushed her back and she looked up in surprise. "It's okay," I reassured her. "You don't have to." She just stared at me for a moment. I thought for sure she would jump up and run out, telling me what a jerk I was on the way. But then she took a deep breath and lowered her head back over my cock. This time her lips parted and my head slipped into her mouth. I could feel her tongue flicking frantically at it, almost like she was licking a clit. It was the first time Eileen's tongue had touched the head of my cock and I felt myself throb with anticipation. She slid her mouth slowly down my shaft, taking in more than half of it before she stopped. I still felt her tongue working like crazy and I wanted to tell her she was trying to hard, but I didn't want to discourage her. I waited until her mouth bobbed up and down on my shaft a couple of times and then gave a low moan, "Oh, yeah. That's it." Taking her cue from me, she continued to bob, going a little bit faster, gaining confidence with each pass of her lips. Eileen was half sitting, half kneeling on the sofa, bent over in my lap, so that all I could see was the short brown hair on the back of her head. I wanted to see more, so I stopped her and guided her to the floor between my legs. "You may find it easier from this position," I suggested. "Besides, I want to see you." She hesitated for a second, then knelt between my legs. Then I watched as my straining member disappear into her mouth. Eileen looked so good at that moment, on her knees in her little sun dress, eyes closed as her lips encircled my cock. "Ah, yeah," I sighed, as much from the sight of her as from the warmth and wetness of her mouth. My words seemed encourage her and her pace quickened. The Collector 03 Now I've always said that I don't want women to do anything they don't like. Since Eileen was a bit inexperienced, I thought it would only be fair to warn her before cumming. That way she could decide how to handle it. I also knew that I didn't want to make her work to hard for it, so I didn't really try to hold back. I had to keep moaning and telling her how good it felt, and even so, she kept faltering. All told, she probably wasn't bobbing between my legs much more than five minutes. "Oh, I'm going to cum," I breathed as I felt myself get close. She continued with renewed effort and was rewarded a few moments later with my eruption. As the first big gob of cum hit her mouth, she stopped sucking and just kept her lips sealed around the end of my cock. I watched her frown at the taste and then pull away. Just as she did, a second spurt landed across her cheek and chin. Her face contorted as she struggled to swallow my load. She got it down, but just barely and with an almost audible gulp. "How'd I do?" Eileen asked, looking up at me from her knees and smiling as she wiped away the cum on her face. "God that was good," I told her. She got up and went in the bathroom to clean up, leaving me sitting on the sofa with a lot of cum still dripping out of the end of my cock. She did bring a washcloth out with her for me to clean myself with before she left though. Okay, so Eileen wasn't very experienced, but she was willing, which is always important. She was older and clearly regarded taking a man's cock in her mouth as very intimate, which I find particularly exciting. She was wearing a sexy dress (with nothing underneath, I might add) and she sucked me from her knees. She also swallowed my cum, which is more than a lot of veteran cocksuckers do. Frankly, despite her lack of experience, she did a lot of the things I like in a blow job. On the down side, the kissing and licking early on were definitely low points. So was the way she stopped sucking when I came, leaving me dripping. I like it when a woman continues to suck until I'm drained. I also wasn't crazy about having to cum quicker than I normally would. So overall, I'd give her an eight. That might be a little generous (okay, that really makes me sound like an asshole), but I feel like I have give bonus points for effort. The Collector 04 When I first started this journal, I was wondering if I should include anything from previous relationships. Yes, believe it or not, a jerk like me has actually had a few serious ones. I was thinking I might take a favorite or two from each and include them, even though they occurred before I began my collection. I might still do that, I don't know. But I do have a journal entry for one of those women that definitely belongs in here. Now I've never been one to make booty calls to ex-girlfriends, but I'm not one for burning bridges either. And if there's anything better than sex with an ex, it's getting your cock sucked by an ex. Especially when she's good at it, as Cheri most definitely is. Cheri was quite a bit older than me. In fact, she's largely responsible for my older woman fetish, because she told me that it was much easier for her to go to bed with a man than give him head. She also told me during our two year relationship that she had given me more head than any other man she had ever been with. And that included quite a few serious relationships and a ten year marriage, so it wasn't like she was inexperienced. That's a bit of an ego booster, even if you're ordinarily modest. Cheri was tall, big breasted and had incredible legs. Great hips too. Her auburn hair fell straight to her shoulder. One of the things I appreciated most about her is that, even though she was comfortable wearing sweats or jeans, she was equally at ease in skirts and dresses. She had a collection of skirts that were deliciously tight around her ass that fell temptingly above her knees. She liked wearing high heels, too, which made her ass look even better. Our sex life had been pretty awesome for most of our relationship. It wasn't uncommon for us to spend an entire Saturday in bed, licking, sucking and humping each others brains out. She was a great lay and no matter how many times we did it, she always seemed to want it one more time. Cheri was also a terrific at giving head. She had told me once that she didn't like to give head to most men. Not because she didn't like the act itself--which she did--but because she was a very proud woman and men often made her feel cheap and degraded afterward. She didn't have that problem with me and so she lavished her oral skills on me frequently. There was a stretch of several months that she stayed over almost every night and most weekdays she would blow me before I left for work in the morning. While things in the bedroom were great for us, we had plenty of issues outside of it that even awesome sex couldn't overcome. We split up after a couple years, but managed to remain friends. Most of our contact was through email or a phone call, but occasionally we'd get together for lunch or drinks. For the most part we kept it platonic. For the most part, anyway. On her birthday I was going to take her out for dinner, but our plans got changed. Cheri's a part owner in an artsy little boutique and one of her employees called out sick, and she got stuck working until closing. So I brought sandwiches and a cupcake with a candle in it to her just before closing time. We sat in the back of the shop, ate and talked for a bit. Then she had to go to the front to lock up and make sure the girl working the register cleaned and ran the vacuum before going home. When she returned to the back room, Cheri had a devilish look in her eye. It was a look I'd seen many times before and I knew at the very least, we'd wind up making out before I left. There was soft muzak playing in the shop and she coaxed me to my feet to dance with her. Actually, it wasn't dancing as much as it was pressing our bodies together and swaying to the beat. We kissed a few times, each one a little more passionate than the last until our tongues were dancing between each others mouths. Then our hands started running up and down each others bodies. I slowly ran my hands up from her hips to her waist to her shoulders, gently brushing the sides of her ample breasts on the way. "Mmmmm..." she purred, running her own hands over my back. The kisses got deeper and wetter and our hands started roaming to more erogenous areas. When we heard the vacuum cleaner go on in the front of the store, Cheri slipped a hand down my pants and grabbed my stiff member. "Does Santa want to come out and play?" she whispered in my ear. That was our euphemism for a blow job. I don't remember exactly how it started, but it had to do with a punch line to a dirty joke about Santa coming down the chimney. Now you might think she meant we'd go to her place or mine, or at least wait until the girl out front finished and went home. But I knew Cheri and I knew she meant right now. Cheri was squeezing and stroking me in my pants, waiting for me to answer. She loved making me tell her that I wanted it. I could hear the vacuum running out front and I could feel how hard I was getting just thinking about Cheri's mouth closing over me. It was a pretty easy decision. "Yes," I breathed. "Yes." That she would go down on me when someone was in the next room, could look in back at any moment and catch us, had me pretty wound up. Almost too wound up... I didn't want to cum quickly and ruin it. But my cock felt ready to explode in her hand as she slowly squatted down in front of me. Cheri deftly unzipped my fly and pulled my pulsing shaft out. There was already a bead of precum on my head which she deliberately licked away. "Mmmm... you taste as good as I remember," she murmured and then slipped the head of my cock into her mouth. She probably realized how turned on I was and wanted to savor it. At the very least, she didn't want me to cum quickly and spoil the fun. So she went very slowly up and down my rod a few times and then paused. "I've been good this year, Santa. What are you going to give me?" She took me in her mouth again and bobbed a few more times. "Gonna cum down my chimney?" Cheri was killing me and she knew it. She gently licked each of my balls in turn, then she grasped my shaft and squeezed. Another drop of precum glistened on my head which she once again licked away. Looking up into my eyes, she opened her mouth wide and extended her tongue beneath my shaft. She raised herself up under it and took it into her mouth, keeping her eyes on mine the whole time. There was always something magical about Cheri's eyes looking into mine while giving me head. It was a look that somehow conveyed her intense pride and self-confidence and at the same time said she would do anything to please me. I guess what made it magical is that she was a woman who didn't crave attention or need acceptance. Whatever she did for me was because she wanted to. Cheri's lips closed around my cock and she started bobbing on it. She was squatting in front of me in her high heels, her hands grasping the outsides of my thighs as she slid her lips up and down on me. I was about to push her away because I was too close to losing it, when the vacuum cleaner suddenly shut off. "Cheri," the girl from the front called. Her voice was very close. I quickly turned away from Cheri and tried hurriedly to tuck myself back into my pants, which isn't easy when it's hard and throbbing. I think I was still zipping my pants with my back toward the doorway when the girl walked into the back room. Cheri was pretending to look for something on the shelf next to where she was squatting, but I don't know if the girl bought it. Think about it: you walk into a room and a guy has his back to you as he's zipping up his pants and a woman is squatting on the floor a few feet from him. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out. Cheri got up and answered the girl's questions and sent her back to the front to finish her cleaning. "That was close," she laughed. "Close?" I replied. "I think we were pretty much busted!" "So where did we leave off?" Cheri asked as she came back over to me. I wasn't surprised. We had almost been caught in the act but Cheri wasn't so easily discouraged. "Shouldn't we wait until she leaves?" I asked, nodding toward the front of the shop. "Nope. Can't wait that long," Cheri replied with a laugh and started tugging at my zipper again. She squatted in front of me again as she slipped my cock from my pants and into her mouth. The close call had taken some of the wind out of my sails, but Cheri brought me back to full staff in just a couple of sucks. Yeah, I was nervous about getting caught, but I have to admit, it made everything much more exciting. Cheri took several long deep sucks before pausing to run her tongue over my shaft and head. If my balls hadn't been still tucked in my pants, I have no doubt she would have licked and sucked them too. Her hand was wrapped around me, milking my cock as her tongue slithered over it. As she looked up at me, I took a step backward. She knew why I did it. She knew all about my little fetishes. It was a hard, cold tile floor and I shouldn't have done it. But that woman always looked so incredible on her knees that I just couldn't help myself. "Horny bastard!" Cheri laughed. But she didn't deny me. In fact, she gave me the full treatment by standing up first then lowering herself to her knees before me. When she got down on her knees and wrapped her lips around my cock, it was all I could do not to cum in her mouth right then. She gripped me firmly in her hand and took me deep into her mouth while looking up at me the whole time. I felt my body quiver involuntarily. Damn, Cheri could get me worked up. Cheri sucked me slowly for only a minute or two before I had to push her away. "Whoa, getting too close," I breathed. Cheri gave me a moment to catch my breath, kissing and licking me. I managed to hold back, but I was still too close for her to start sucking on me again. As I looked around for something to distract me, I realized I could still hear the vacuum cleaner still running up front. Funny how a moment ago we had nearly been caught and already I had forgotten about the vacuum cleaner and the girl up front using it. I looked toward the doorway that led to the front of the shop. I realized there was a mirror hanging just beyond it in which I could actually see the vacuum cleaner going back and forth. I couldn't see the girl running it because of the angle the mirror was hanging at. A moment later Cheri started sucking on me again and I forgot all about it. Now Cheri had given me a lot of blow jobs, so she knew if she started bobbing seriously on me right then, it would have been all over. Instead, she went slowly down my shaft, taking me deep into the warmth of her mouth then gliding her lips just as leisurely back up again. Her steady sucking drove me wild. I plunged my hands into her hair, careful not to disrupt her. My cock felt so good in her mouth that my knees almost buckled a couple of times. Little gasps and grunts were escaping from me, but I was only distantly aware of them. Still Cheri's lips caressed my cock, covering my shaft with her saliva, building me toward crescendo. I had to reach for the counter beside me to steady myself as I felt myself pass the point of no return. My balls got tighter, my shaft throbbed. Cheri obviously felt it too. She had certainly had my cock in her mouth enough times to know when I was about to blow my top. She quickened her pace a little bit. That was enough to finish me off. My hips bucked and my back arched toward her as I exploded in her mouth. I tried to watch her face as I came, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I felt two or three big spurts shoot out of me, filling Cheri's mouth. She never slowed down though. She continued sucking at the same pace for at least another minute or two. Her eyes were closed as she continued to savor my fading erection, her lips sliding up and down my cock even as I faded. When she stopped sucking, Cheri still didn't take me from her mouth. She squeezed me with her hand, wringing every last drop from me before tucking me back into my pants and sitting back on her heels. One thing about Cheri: when she finished sucking me, I was always drained dry. She took pride in the fact that I could zip up my pants when she was done and there would be nothing dripping from me. No snail tracks, as she called them. And not only did she drain me, she always swallowed it all too. While it was a pretty good sized load I had shot in her mouth that night, it certainly wasn't the biggest. No matter how much I squirted into her mouth, she never hesitated, gagged or let a drop spill and she always swallowed it all down. I admit, I don't know why that should matter, but it does. And it always turns me on to think about Cheri blowing me so many times; to think about how many of my loads, how much of my cum she's swallowed. We never really talked about it directly, but Cheri made it clear that she didn't swallow because she liked the taste. She said once that she did like the way sperm made her mouth tingle, but that she would have experienced whether she swallowed or not. So why did she swallow? I don't know, but I do wish more women were like her. As I was zipping up, I noticed that the vacuum was still visible in the mirror by the doorway. Had the girl up front been able to see us? Had she lingered there watching? I didn't really care and I doubted Cheri would either, so I didn't mention it. But when I think back that another woman might have been watching as Cheri sucked me off, it gives me a little rush. Ok, to the score card. A perfect ten. Yeah, maybe I'm biased because Cheri and I had a lot of good sex together, but I can't think of anything she could have done better. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse and wearing high heels. She sucked my cock on her knees and sucked it so well I nearly fell over. She continued sucking me long after I came in her mouth and then swallowed every drop of my cum. Cheri sucked me off so well so many times I can't remember then all, but I think that night in her shop was the most perfect one she ever gave me. Plain and simple: a ten. The Collector 05 One of the things that has been a big help to my cause is the internet and, more specifically, internet dating sites. Not those so-called adult sites either. I'm not looking for women who want to hook up blindly. No, I go for the regular dating sites. I like to meet a woman and get to know her a little. Some pan out, others don't, but I always enjoy meeting new women. There's always something special in the air the first time or two you go out with someone. That extra charge makes the chase worthwhile, even if it means I've got to deal with the inevitable rejections. Now I'm always very clear that I'm not really looking for anything serious or long term. That's enough to keep the relationship-seekers away from me for the most part. By the time I've traded a half dozen emails with a woman, I've got a pretty good idea as to whether or not I should go out with her. And that means not just assessing whether or not I have a chance of getting her on her knees, but also deciding how much of a bastard it would make me for trying. After all, I'm really not out to hurt anyone, even though my motives are admittedly selfish. Anyway, the beauty of internet dating is that I can juggle several women at once and get to know them a somewhat before I ever meet them. I couldn't pursue my obsession the way I do with conventional ways meeting and dating. Yeah, that sounds crass, but again, I'm up front about myself, so I don't feel I'm being unfair. I'm not trying to dupe women into doing anything for me. They get to see what I'm about and make their own choices. It's much better to get sucked off while being yourself anyway. Renee was one of the women I met early in my internet dating, and it took quite a bit of time before anything developed between us. Maybe it's because I had gotten to the point where I didn't expect anything to happen, that I was still emailing her just for fun and not actively pursuing her, that makes this one of my favorite internet dating blow job stories. It was also very instructive for me, as I learned that sometimes it's better to be a spider, to sit back and let the fly come to me. As I said, Renee was one of the first women I met via the internet. Although she lived, according to the dating site, in my quote-unquote area, she was in reality over an hour's drive away. I guess that's one of the beefs some people have with internet dating. For my purposes though, it was actually better. This particular case was seemingly custom made for me. Renee lived almost an hour and a half from me, but where she worked was maybe a half hour from where I worked. So when we finally got around to meeting, having drinks and dinner after work was the obvious choice. Our initial emails were all polite and of the tame getting-to-know-you sort, but they were fun exchanges. Renee worked for a big city advertising firm in a lower executive capacity. She was smart and humorous in her emails, usually including references to current news items. It was a challenge sometimes to write her a worthy reply. After we had gone through a week or so of corresponding, we set up an after work date at a bar halfway between our offices. I was genuinely excited to meet Renee, and not because I expected anything to happen between us. She came across as confident and classy with intelligence and a great sense of humor. That's the kind of woman I really like to be around. It doensn't necessarily have to lead to anything for me to enjoy time with a woman like that. We met at a restaurant for dinner and I must say, Renee was a great date. We laughed the entire time it seemed. She was as witty in person as she had been in her emails (and not everyone is). She also knew how to relax and enjoy herself, which I suppose a lot of people might not be able to do on a first date. I guess that comes from her being confident and comfortable with herself. Whatever it was, it radiated from her like an aura. She was a good looking woman too, which never hurts. She was petite, maybe five-foot-two or so. She had short brown hair with a very polished, professional cut. Her brown eyes danced behind tasteful silver framed glasses and she had an easy, dazzling smile. Renee wore a dark suit, which I found very appealing, even if it did make it difficult to see her figure. Everything about her was elegant, yet relaxed. We talked about our experiences with internet dating for a while. I told Renee that it appealed to me because I wasn't looking for anything serious and it was a great way to meet new people on a regular basis. She wasn't put off by my admission, but she did make it clear that she was not the casual sex type and I was probably wasting my time with her. I might have been a little disappointed, of course. But I respect a woman who respects and values herself enough to draw that line in the sand. We ended our date with a polite peck goodnight. Over the next couple of months I would trade emails fairly regularly with Renee, usually while at work. Her witty banter was always a welcome interruption to the daily routine. We only met for drinks two more times in that span, the second time ending with her saying that we really shouldn't see each other anymore. Being email pen pals was fine, but she saw no point in dating someone who was never going to get seriously involved with her. Gradually the frequency of our emails started to slip as did the level of personal contact in them. Often I'd receive a joke or cartoon that she had forwarded to a bunch of people, or a link to a news story that reminded her of me. This is how much of my internet dating has gone, so I'm pretty used to it now. I kept replying to Renee's emails and occasionally sending some of my own to her just to keep the contact alive, although at the time there didn't seem to be much point. I've made it a rule to always respond to anything I receive in similar fashion. If I get a personal note, I reply to it with one of my own. If a joke is forwarded to me, I usually reply with a joke of a similar nature: I get a cutsie joke, I return a cutsie joke; a dirty joke gets a dirty joke, etc. At the very least, there's some communication between you, so there's still a glimmer of hope. Frankly, they're doing the same thing I am. Just keeping someone on the back burner, just in case. I always play along and sometimes it works out for me. Anyway, the drop in correspondence from Renee I wrote off to her finding someone else with whom to trade emails. Presumably, she had had better luck with internet dating since meeting me. At least she left the door open a crack by sending an occasional email. Things went on this way for months, and I continued to play along, but more out of habit than hope. Then the nature of Renee's emails changed a bit. She was still mainly forwarding jokes, but their content was subtly changed. There had always been a variety in their nature and neither of us was easily offended, so off-color stuff was included. But the content became more and more sexual in nature. Possibly someone was just sending her more of those types of jokes and she was only passing on what she received. But I began to reply with sexually oriented material just to see where it would lead. One particular day she sent me an email with a bunch of cartoons in it, all of which had jokes revolving around blow jobs. I didn't want to read too much into it. After all, it was just something she forwarded. But I obviously wondered if there wasn't a point to it. I took my time deciding what to send as a reply. What I sent was a link to a fake news story that claimed a scientific study had found lower cancer rates in women who swallow semen than women who don't. Whoever put the thing together was pretty slick. It was supposed to be from a major cable news network's website, and it could easily have been mistaken for legitimate. Knowing that Renee was a sharp woman, I wasn't surprised when she emailed back a link to a story that said the "study" was a complete hoax. I was mildly surprised at what she wrote below the link though. I can't remember how she worded it exactly, but it was something about conducting her own research study on the subject. It was deliberately vague, a Renee trademark, and left me wondering if she meant me or someone else. Now a lesser man might have simply asked for a clarification. But Renee would have been disappointed in me if that was the best reply I could muster. So I took a more playful tack, asking her about her research qualifications. Her answer was that she had an advanced degree in hard data analysis. We went on like that for quite a while, with sexual innuendos packed into every question and answer. "How did you develop your taste for research?" "I had in crammed down my throat in college." We exchanged more emails that afternoon than we had in the past couple months combined. I admit, I was getting worked up by our little word games. I was wondering if I should invite her out for a drink or something, but I really didn't think she'd be interested. Renee had made it clear a long time ago that she wasn't into sex outside of a relationship. I had to keep reminding myself of that as I read each new email from her that day. In the end it was actually Renee that suggested we meet for a drink. On the one hand, I could barely contain my excitement. This good looking, elegantly dressed, well-spoken, intelligent and funny woman, who had just spent the day describing her "research techniques" to me, wanted to meet me for a drink. I started to get turned on just thinking about it. At the same time, I was afraid to get my hopes up. Certainly she had only been joking, right? We'd get together, kick back a few drinks and laugh about all the many ways we'd come up with to covertly discuss blow jobs. It wasn't like we could easily go back to my place or hers. So I took her up on the drinks and told myself to keep my expectations realistic. I assumed we'd meet at the same restaurant we'd gone to before, but she suggested one that was a little further out of the way for both of us. I didn't know the place, but Renee said it was worth a few extra minutes drive. I like to try new places, so I readily agreed. It turned out to be a cozy little restaurant on the edge of a state park. I pulled up and was surprised to see Renee waiting outside for me. I was wondering why she hadn't chosen to wait in the bar when she came over to me. "Wanna take a walk before we eat?" Renee suggested, indicating a path that led into the park. I looked at her and looked at myself. Neither of us was wearing comfortable walking shoes and the path she was pointing to looked dusty and rough. It was also starting to get dark. If it hadn't been for the highly charged nature of our emails earlier, I probably would have been reluctant at best. Now, however, I was beginning to wonder if she wasn't going to put her money where her mouth was. Or at least put her mouth, well... I'm sure you know exactly what I was thinking when it came to her mouth. She was dressed as she had been on our previous dates in a very professional looking suit. This one was a burgundy color and the jacket had more of a form fitting cut than anything I had seen her in before. Her hips were a bit wide and her ass nicely rounded. Some might have considered her thick in the bottom, but I like a woman with generous hips and ass. I still couldn't tell much about her breasts and legs though. Overall, her appearance was incredibly appealing to me. Renee wasn't a conventional beauty, but then her looks were only part of what made her hot. I walked beside her as we made our way into the park. There was a little chit-chat about getting out of work, finding the restaurant, etc. Nothing at all about our email conversation though. I was beginning to wonder what kind of idiot I was for expecting anything to happen when it did happen. We had walked along the path until we reached a cluster of bushes. Renee grabbed my hand and pulled me from the path toward them. I looked at her, surprised. "Time for some research," she explained with a grin. I could feel myself getting stiff in my pants as I hurried along behind her. Was Renee really going to drag me behind a clump of bushes and go down on me? As it became obvious that that was exactly what she was going to do, I started wondering about the emails she had sent. None of them actually came out and said it, of course, but the impression she had given was that she swallowed. I could hardly wait to find out. When we were safely shrouded behind the bushes, Renee gave a long look around. "All clear," she announced. "Take it out." "Why?" I asked. I wanted her to suck me, of course. But I couldn't help being curious as to why she wanted to now, when she had told me all along she was only looking for a relationship. "I'm conducting research, remember?" Renee replied with a wink. "Yes, I think you had me down as a member of the control group, right?" It felt a little silly saying it in person, even though it was the same thing we had said via email scant hours ago. "Speaking of your membership," she said, reaching out to rub the front of my pants. "Out with it." I sensed that I wasn't going to get any meaningful answers out of Renee about her change of heart. Maybe she had rationalized her way into doing something she ordinarily wouldn't do. Or maybe she was a little more wild than she had led me to believe. Either way, I could tell that she wasn't about to reveal her motives and I wasn't one to miss an opportunity. I unzipped my fly. That wasn't good enough for Renee. She deftly undid my belt and pants and let them drop around my ankles. I looked around, a bit worried someone might see, even as my stiffening shaft was rising from under my shirt. She bent down and suddenly I was deep in her mouth and didn't care who might be watching. She held me there as she twisted her head back and forth, causing her tongue to run across my vein like it was a speed bump. Now it might look impressive when you see a woman's head twisting around on a stiff cock like that, but it doesn't always feel good. Up and down the shaft is definitely better than left to right. Now Renee was bent over, so the awkwardness of the angle was part of it. But there was also a reckless energy in her approach that wasn't entirely pleasant. Plus, in her haste she caught me with her teeth a few times. I was about to push her back and start over when she paused and squatted down in front of me. When she was eye level with my cock, Renee grabbed it firmly at the base and popped me back into her mouth. She continued flipping her head from side to side, but now she also started bobbing on me as well. I felt like I was getting head from a bobble head doll. Renee's strokes were rapid and short. The first couple inches of my cock were getting plenty of enthusiastic attention. I think she was working her tongue a lot as well, but there was so much going on, it was tough to tell. Her head and mouth were a frenzy of activity on the end of my shaft. I kept waiting for her to back off and do some slow, deep sucking. It wasn't hard to hold out, because in all honesty, what she was doing didn't feel that great. As exciting as it was that she was going down on me in a park, her rough speed sucking wasn't about to get me off. It was nice watching her as she squatted in her elegant burgundy suit with her eyes closed and her mouth all over my cock. I could see a frothy foam of saliva encircling my member just below where her lips stopped too. After several minutes, Renee finally stopped and looked up at me. "Something wrong?" she asked. I didn't really understand her question. Did she expect I would have cum by now? I don't know who she was used to blowing, but she was nowhere near getting me off yet. "Why would anything be wrong?" I asked. "Tell me what you like," she said. "Oh, I like what you're doing right now," I replied with a short laugh. "Just maybe a little slower. Easier." I'm never one to be critical of woman giving me a blow job and I never want to make her feel like her effort isn't appreciated. In cases like this I don't mind offering a gentle suggestion, but I'd never tell a woman she was doing something wrong. What would be the point in getting head from so many different women if I insisted they all did it the same way, right? Anyway, Renee settled down a little bit. She still wasn't taking very much of me into her mouth, less than half, and she was still doing the head-twist thing, but she was going slower now. I could actually feel and enjoy her lips and tongue on my cock. She also started stroking me slightly with her hand, so the base of my shaft was getting some stimulation, even if it wasn't from her lips. While it was definitely an improvement and I could feel myself starting to build toward climax, I was afraid she'd give up before she got me there. I had to help myself with a little mental stimulation to speed things along. I looked at Renee. Her eyes were still closed and her lips stretched around my member. There is something sexy about getting your cock sucked by a woman wearing glasses. That helped me a little. Then I thought about her at work. She was, after all, an executive at her company. She was used to taking charge and giving people orders. She drove a sleek German sports car and had probably spent the entire ride here on a cell phone talking to her office. Now she was squatting behind some bushes sucking my cock. Yeah, that image of a powerful corporate woman was getting me excited. She was a woman used to being in charge, and now was gratifying me with her mouth. The steady pumping of her hand around the base of my shaft helped too. I let out a moan or two to encourage her. Renee kept up her steady sucking as I wondered about whether or not she would swallow. I couldn't imagine she'd want to let cum splatter all over her nice suit, so at least I'd be able to cum in her mouth. Thinking about all of this and watching her lips on my cock, I finally reached the point of explosion. I watched her face as my cock pumped a load of cum into her mouth. Her brow furrowed as I filled her mouth. I have to confess, I love that little frown. It's the way almost every woman reacts to the taste of sperm. I don't know why I get a thrill out of seeing it, but I do. Anyway, Renee stopped sucking me when I came, but held me in her mouth while she pumped me with her hand. Renee looked up at me as she gave me a last squeeze and slowly pulled away. Watching my cock slide from her red lips, seeing my head emerge from her mouth was very satisfying. Then she pulled my pants up and fastened them, letting my softening member hang out of the fly. When she finished buttoning my pants, she gave my cock one last suck, cleaning off the last drip of cum that was hanging there before tucking me back in. Then she stood up and asked me if I was ready for dinner. "I hope you don't mind," Renee laughed, "but I already had my dessert." Renee was an interesting case for me. True, she was not particularly good at the act of sucking cock itself. But the fact that she had given me head was a bit of a surprise to me anyway, so I'm obviously not complaining. She was also an elegantly dressed executive type, the kind that you wouldn't expect to find giving blow jobs in a clump of bushes. And she swallowed every drop of my cum. So it's tough to figure out how to rate her. She was also squatting, not kneeling as I prefer. But she was wearing slacks and would have ruined them by kneeling in the dirt, which is why I didn't try to coax her to her knees. But would she have been on her knees in different circumstances? Perhaps. Anyway, overall I'd have to say that the pleasant surprise of having Renee give me head did not outweigh the ineffectiveness of her technique. There was one other thing that I didn't care for. That was the way she seemed to be giving a performance. It was like she was more interested in how she looked giving a blow job than how the blow job actually felt. It was like I was a bit player in a movie about her life. Don't get me wrong. This isn't an ego thing. Hell, I got her to blow me, right? It's more about how she wasn't doing it because she wanted to please me. She was doing it for her own reasons that had nothing to do with me. Fair enough and I'm not complaining. But if it's obvious enough that I can tell while she's in the act of sucking me, it's not a good thing. So give Renee a seven, and it's only that high because she dressed so nice and swallowed my load. The Collector 06 It's rare, but once in a while I get completely taken by surprise. I usually have pretty good radar, but every so often, I find a woman who sneaks under it and the next thing I know I'm getting my cock sucked out of nowhere. Maybe the secret to getting an unexpected blow job is that I'm genuinely not looking for it, so a woman who chooses to surprise me with one wouldn't feel taken for granted. I don't really know, but that's as good a theory as any, I guess. Not that it really matters, of course. As I've mentioned earlier in my journal, I always keep in contact with plenty of women, because my obsession practically requires me to do so. Many of them are long shots at best, but you keep talking to them because occasionally a long shot pays off. And even if it doesn't, talking to women is hardly time wasted. I'm not a total pig that only wants women to kneel down and blow me (even though I probably come across like that). I can maintain friendships with women and not have any expectations. Maybe it's my lack of expectations that women find attractive. Who knows? The bottom line is I'll be friendly with women even if there's nothing (sexually speaking) in it for me. Of course, if they opt to take it a step further, I'm perfectly happy to oblige them. Which brings me to Kate. Kate I wrote off early on as just too nice a girl for me. She was something special and deserved a serious man, not an opportunist like me. She lived in the same apartment complex as me and I'd see her outside often. She was a power walker and I'm a jogger, so our paths crossed frequently. She was always smiling, always very positive and upbeat in the things she said. I like people like that and I'd always stop to chat with her when I saw her outside. As I said, Kate was just an incredibly nice a person. She was a teaching assistant, specializing in working with handicapped children. She was a volunteer Sunday school teacher. In the summer she would read to children at the public library; in the winter she took blankets to homeless shelters. It took months and months of conversation to get all of this out of her, because she was far too modest to go around telling people what she did. Kate truly enjoyed helping people, and not for any self-promoting reasons like some do-gooders. I was always impressed with her genuine dedication and I told her so quite often. I'm sure she didn't need my praise to motivate her, but she always smiled and thanked me for my words in her bashful way. I took her to dinner a few times early on, and she invited me to her apartment for dinner once or twice. But I never tried to advance things with her, and a peck good night was as intimate as things got between us. After those first few dates, we kind of settled into a friendship. We'd talk a couple times a week, usually after we'd both wrapped up our jogging and walking. Once in a while one of us would invite the other over for dinner. Kate was quite a good cook, so usually dinners were at her place. I would bring dessert and sometimes a bottle of wine. I really don't know how Kate saw me, but I made it very clear that I was the type of guy who dated a lot and was not about to settle down. I also told her very plainly that she deserved a good, upstanding man and that wasn't me at all. Kate always smiled and said something nice when I told her that I was a skirt-chasing dog (I didn't say it quite like that to her, of course). How could I not like her? And our conversations were always engaging and interesting. They could be on virtually any subject, since Kate was one of those people who read everything. It was because I enjoyed her company, her optimistic outlook on everything and her intelligent conversation that I took her up on her dinner invitations as often as I did. Kate didn't even flinch on the occasions that I turned her down because I already had a date lined up. Physically, Kate was petite, delicately built with big brown eyes, thick eyelashes and a beautiful smile. Her face was narrow with high cheekbones that were always rosy. Her hair was shiny and dark, falling in natural waves to the middle of her back. She had narrow shoulders, a slender waist and the shapely legs and ass of a serious power walker. Her breasts were small, but proportional to her thin frame. When she wasn't power walking, she was usually very nicely dressed. Her clothes weren't from any big name designers, but they were always very nice. She wore skirts and dresses often and occasionally slacks. Everything she wore fit very nicely on her slim build. While no one would call her a knockout, she looked good enough that men often turned to get a better look at her when she went by. Our little friendship and dinner dates went on for several months. Obviously, during that time I was getting blow jobs from plenty of other women. I doubt Kate had any idea how much of an asshole I am. I certainly never told her that I was out trying to getting blow jobs from as many women as possible. And needless to say, she'd be mortified if she knew I was writing about our encounter. One afternoon after I had finished jogging, Kate saw me and stopped to say hello. She also asked me if I was free for dinner that night or the next. Our occasional dinners were typically last minute things like that, so there was nothing unusual about her invitation. I told her I couldn't make it that night, but the next would be fine. I offered to bring a bottle of wine and dessert as well. Kate replied that it would be nice if I brought some red wine, but not to worry about dessert. She was planning on making something herself. When I arrived the following night, everything was pretty much as I expected. Kate was dressed casually in khaki shorts and a loose fitting pullover. She greeted me with her customary cheerful smile and invited me in. The aroma of dinner made my mouth water as soon as I walked through the door. She took the bottle of wine, opened it and poured us each a glass. Then she went into the kitchen and brought out dinner. It was a pot roast and potatoes, seasoned to perfection. I'm a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, and Kate knew it. This was one of my favorites. As we ate, we talked as we always did. Most of the conversation was about the children Kate worked with at school. I always enjoyed hearing about her job. That may sound like a load of BS, but it isn't. Listening to Kate talk excitedly about how she reached a mentally challenged child would brighten anyone's day. The world needs more people with that kind of caring and optimism in their hearts. After dinner Kate brought out the special dessert she had made: a black forest cake she had baked from scratch. She poured us each a cup of tea to have with our cake. We rarely ever had more than a glass of wine each, and this night was no exception. The cake, needless to say, was fantastic. Kate was quite a good cook, but this particular night she had outdone herself. I told her so, but she only smiled and demurely replied she had done nothing special. It wasn't until she cleared the dessert dishes that I got a clear sign that things were different tonight. Her table is small and square with four chairs around it. We always sat opposite each other. When Kate returned from taking away the dessert plates, she sat at the end of the table to my right. It was a noticeable change from our established routine and I started wondering what Kate had in mind. Now I'm not stupid. I see this woman has made an exceptional dinner and dessert, and no matter what she says, it obviously took no small amount of effort. Then she sat down beside me, which is something that she'd never done before. Something was up. I wasn't going to make any move on her. If she wanted to do something, it would be up to her. I had been fairly up front about the kind of guy I am and if, knowing that, Kate still wanted to start something, well, that was her prerogative. There was something a bit strange as to how things progressed. After Kate sat beside me, she put her hand on my thigh. Now Kate has never been the touchy-feely type with me, so it wasn't just a casual thing. The weird part was neither one of us said anything about it. We kept on talking about the same things we had been all through dinner. We were just two people having a normal dinner conversation, the same way we had plenty of times before. Only this time Kate's hand was on my leg. Then she began running her hand up and down my thigh, squeezing it now and again. Suddenly she stopped and sat up straight. "I have one more surprise for you," she said, smiling and looking away. "Could you go out to my car and get the bag out of the back seat?" I raised my eyebrows at her request, shrugged and said sure. I brought the bag in without looking in it, but it was something fairly heavy for its size. When I came back in, Kate wasn't in the dining room. The only two rooms you can't see from the front of her apartment are the bathroom and bedroom. She could have just taken the opportunity to use the former, but the way things were going tonight, I wasn't so sure. "Kate?" "In here." Her voice was clearly coming from the bedroom. I wasn't that surprised. I suspected this is where things were headed. I just wanted to be sure that it was her choice. Like I said before, she certainly deserved better than me. When I came into the bedroom, the lights were low and several candles were burning around the room. In the soft light I could see that Kate had stripped off her shorts and pullover and was now sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a lacy teddy. I was a little surprised at that. To go straight from a handshake friendship to lingerie was a bit of a leap. Kate came over and took the bag from me and pulled a bottle out of it. It looked like a liquor bottle of some sort, but I was too distracted by Kate's body in the teddy to pay much attention to it. She led me over beside the bed and put the bottle on the nightstand. Then she knelt in front of me and unzipped my pants. This was almost absurd. I had never even given this woman a deep, passionate kiss and now she's on her knees undoing my pants? Trust me, I'm not surprised that "nice girls" suck cock. I've had a woman who sang in the church choir swallow my cum before. So I was hardly shocked that Kate was about to blow me. It was just how quickly we went from a polite dinner conversation to her scantily clad body kneeling before me that threw me. I was expecting things to go somewhere, but never had I imagined it happening like this. When she took my cock from my pants, I was barely half way erect. Kate slipped me into her warm, wet mouth and immediately I felt myself begin to grow. Still, it took a couple minutes of her gently rolling me around in her mouth and sucking softly to bring me to full staff. At first she went slowly, keeping me in her mouth most of the time, pausing only occasionally to give a lick here and there. Her mouth felt fantastic as my cock got harder and harder in it. I should say something about her form. Kate was kneeling with her knees close together, feet straight out behind her. Her back was nicely arched and she held her shoulders steady, moving only her neck and head as she slid her mouth up and down my stiff cock. While I can't say that any of these things make a blow job physically feel better, the picture she presented made me throb all that much harder. She was pure cock sucking poetry in motion. Kate bobbed slowly and steadily on me for a few minutes. Her eyes were closed as she sucked, her long lashes visible in the soft light. I was enjoying her sensual sucking, marveling at how good it felt to be in her mouth when she suddenly stopped. Kate turned to the nightstand behind her where she had set down the bottle. As I watched curiously, she opened the bottle and poured a little of its contents into a small glass. She took a swig from the glass and turned back to me, opening her mouth and enveloping my cock once again. I felt a cool, tingly sensation all through the head of my cock. Slowly it faded and was replaced by the familiar warmth of Kate's mouth. Then she stopped again, took another sip and did it again. And again my cock tingled with the sensation. "Creme de menth," Kate whispered as she drank the last bit from the glass and covered my shaft with her mouth. It was quite a pleasant, if unexpected, sensation. I particularly liked how it felt like her mouth was warming up my cock as the sensation from the alcohol faded. It was almost like getting hard in her mouth all over again. After three go-rounds with the creme de menth, Kate took hold of my member by the base and sucked me deep into her mouth several times. I swear I would never have guessed she could suck cock so well. In the candlelight I watched her lips stretch as she slid them up me. My rod was throbbing and ready for release. But Kate wasn't done surprising me. Just when I thought she was going to finish me off, Kate stood up and pushed me back onto her bed. She pulled off my shirt and my pants, then climbed up on top of me. Her teddy, I noticed, was crotchless. "Uh, I don't have a... I mean, I wasn't expecting," I said, trying to discourage her from intercourse by telling her I didn't have a condom. "Don't worry," Kate whispered as she straddled me and lowered herself onto my erection. I have to say at that moment, no matter how good her pussy felt, I was still disappointed she hadn't sucked me off. Also, I didn't know what she meant by telling me not to worry, but I had no intentions of cumming inside her. Kate sat on my cock, but instead of riding me the way I expected, she gyrated her hips, sliding them back and forth and side to side. I was deep inside of her and I could tell by her heavy breathing that she was liking it. She only kept it up for a few minutes, her breathing getting heavier and heavier, before she threw her head back and let out a low moan. Her body, impaled on my hard cock, shook with her orgasm. I could feel her trembling as she came. She held still for a long moment, then let out her pent-up breath and rocked back and forth slowly a few more times. Her body twitched and spasmed with ecstasy as she did. I was still wondering what was going to happen next when Kate climbed off of my cock. To my immense satisfaction, she immediately slid down the bed and took me into her mouth again. I love it when a woman tastes her own pussy on my cock. Not sure why, but I always get a thrill out of that. So naturally I got even more turned on as Kate took my member, wet with her juices, deep into her mouth, over and over again. At this point Kate was kneeling on the bed between my legs, her left hand was on the bed beside me and her right hand was wrapped around my cock. She was sucking hard now, the way a woman does when she's done playing around and wants you to cum. I held back as long as I could, but Kate's lips were doing quite a number on me. She was going more than halfway down with each bob and she was going at quite a fast pace. Finally, I couldn't hold back any longer and I felt my balls tighten and my shaft stiffen. Just before I came, Kate pulled her mouth away and began pumping me with her hand. My load shot out of my cock, some splattering the front of her teddy. A second spurt spilled down the side of my shaft onto her hand. She stroked me a few more times, until the last dribble had run down onto my belly. Then she got up and got a washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned me off. She gave me a kiss on my softened member and laid her head down with her cheek pressed against it. Looking back I realize that Kate had not had a date in a long time and I was the only guy she really spent any time with, which maybe explains why she would be with me at all. She also knew that I was a bit of a player, and probably figured (rightly) that it wouldn't take too much to get me in the sack. The creme de menth was a nice touch—though I still have trouble imagining her buying that bottle for the sole purpose of giving me head. The teddy had been pretty sweet too, although I think I would have preferred to see her on her knees in one of her nice little skirts. For the official scoring, I'd give Kate an eight and a half. She looked great on her knees in her lacy little teddy. The way she bobbed her head on my shaft while on her knees was a thing of beauty too. I liked the creme de menth, but not enough that I have to have it again. It was a good novelty, but not something I'd go looking for. The best part of that was how Kate's mouth warmed me back up after the cool sensation from the liquor. Hands down the best part of the blow job was Kate taking my cock, dripping with her own juices, back into her mouth after we fucked. That's something I've always found exciting in a dirty kind of way. The rest of the blow job, on all fours on the bed with heavy duty speed bobbing, felt really good, even though it's one of my least favorite ways to get sucked. The real disappointment was not letting me cum in her mouth. I certainly wasn't expecting Kate to swallow. It would have been an awesome finish to an excellent effort if she had. But for her to make me cum with her hand and never taste a drop of my load was disappointing to say the least. The Collector 07 I guess the opposite of an unexpected blow job is a long expected blow job. Is there anything worse that a woman telling you what an incredible cock sucker she is, that she wants to suck your cock so you can see for yourself, and then have to wait for it? And wait and wait and wait for it? That's what happened to me with Connie. Connie was one of the women I met on the internet. She had a great sense of humor and obviously liked to have fun. We hit if off pretty well and within a week or so, we decided to meet for a drink. So far, so good, right? We met at a mutually convenient bar and I have to say, I liked what I saw. Connie was fairly tall, maybe five-nine or five-ten. She was dressed casually in tight fitting jeans that made her ass look great and a nice powder blue top. Her breasts weren't very big, but she wasn't flat-chested either. Her hair was a dark, teased-up nest of what I'd call 80's hair. It rose a couple inches above her forehead and fell to about the middle of her back in hair-sprayed tangles. She had bright blue-gray eyes that had permanent laugh crinkles at their corners. Her lips were full and pouting and she wore no lipstick. She had an easy laugh, a warm smile and a personality that just said fun. There was also an air of sexuality about her that's difficult to describe. Women have subliminal ways of telegraphing their willingness, I suppose. I definitely sensed the sexual possibilities between us almost as soon as we met. It's partly something subtle in body language. I can't explain it, but I certainly pick up on it when it's there. There were other, less obscure signs as well. I've mentioned before how much I like to make eye contact with women, and in Connie I found a woman who returned it unflinchingly. To have your eyes locked together for long stretches, well after the timer in your head says it's time to look away, can really build up the heat. Well, our drinks turned into dinner. We were having a blast, laughing and joking like we'd known each other for years. A lot of the humor was sexual in nature, but nothing too far out of line for a first date. We had originally gotten to the bar around six o'clock. At 9:30 we were still finishing dessert. After dinner I walked Connie back to her car and she offered to drive me over to my car. Now it was not cold or raining and my car was less than fifty feet away. But I'm not an idiot. I got in the car with her and we wound up making out in the parking lot for another half hour or more. It didn't go any farther than some deep kissing and a little groping, but we both went home a tad breathless. For the next week or two Connie and I tried to work another date into our schedules, but without success. About a week after that, she stopped returning my emails. Now I'm not one to pester a woman. If I send a few emails and get zilch in return, then I back off. I don't know what the situation might be and I usually try to give the benefit of the doubt. So another week goes by and I've just about written Connie off when I finally did get an email from her. She apologized for not getting back to me sooner, but she had something serious to work out. Naturally, I asked what the problem was. She told me that she and her husband, from whom she'd been separated for several months prior to her meeting me, were getting back together. I was disappointed, I confess. Connie seemed like she would have been a lot of fun. But I thanked her for being honest and told her what a good time I'd had on our date. Connie surprised me by replying that she was sorry things hadn't worked out differently; that she had gotten so hot that night that she couldn't get to sleep. Now I wouldn't expect that from a woman who is getting back with her husband. At least not if she's serious about him. So I figured I'd push things a little bit. I emailed back, saying it had been the same for me, which was more or less true--she had gotten me pretty turned on. I wished her luck with her situation and told her to feel free to write me whenever she wanted. I closed by saying I felt like I missed an awesome opportunity. I hesitated, thinking it over for a moment and then added, "I knew I should have just whipped it out that night!" I figured what the hell, Connie had a sense of humor and would probably take it for just a joke anyway. What I was really hoping is that she would offer some kind of humorous reply that would let me keep things open for discussion, even if only jokingly. Let's face it, if we're both joking about it, we're both thinking about it. And as long as she's still thinking about it, I've got a chance. Well, I wasn't disappointed with Connie's reply. It was actually a lot better than I had expected. "Whipping it out wouldn't have done you any good... I hate giving head in a car!" I re-read that one a few times, getting hornier and hornier at the thought of Connie giving head in a car. Or, more specifically, Connie giving me head in the car that night. I thought about how to reply for a while and decided I needed something creative and funny. I know there are a lot of other ways I could have gone with it, but that seemed like the best thing with Connie. "Let me guess," I wrote. "The glove compartment door sprang open and hit you in the back of the head and you've been cockeyed ever since, right?" "That's soooo funny!" Connie wrote back. "I'm STILL laughing!" That was all she said about it, so I wondered if I should keep the subject alive and, if so, how. Obviously, if I've got a woman talking about blow jobs, I want her to keep right on talking about them. I knew with Connie humor was the key. If I could come up with something funny that didn't seem too eager, she might continue to play along. "I'm taking my car to the dealership tomorrow and having the glove compartment door removed. Let me know when you're free for dinner again. ;)" "No cars!" she sent back. "There's just not enough room for me to work my magic! :O" I was tempted to ask exactly what she considered to be her 'magic,' but decided it was still too early for anything so direct. Keep 'em laughing all the way to the microphone. "Magic?" I asked in my reply. "I thought I was the one with the magic wand." "What makes you think your wand is magic?" Connie wrote back. "Well, it knows a lot of card tricks. And it dispenses chocolate flavored treats. Does that count?" "LOL! You're crazy!" Connie replied. "Chocolate? I doubt that! That's the other problem with cars... no place to spit!" Again I found myself reading her email over several times and getting turned on, this time by the thought of her with a mouthful of cum. I figured I might as well push things a little further. "Sure it's chocolate!" I emailed back to her. "Don't believe me? See for yourself! Oh, and your 'no place to spit' problem has an obvious solution too!" I didn't know if that was going too far. After all, she was back with her husband. But I rationalized that if she was going to volunteer information about spitting, she couldn't be all that worried about it. Just a little harmless internet flirting, right? I didn't hear back from her for several days after that, and I figured I had gone too far. Not that I thought Connie would be upset. Like I said, she had a good sense of humor. But that didn't mean she didn't feel a little guilty about talking to me the way she had. It may not have been much, but I imagine her husband would have gotten pissed if he knew. But then I got her reply and it picked up right where we left off. "Tempting as your 'chocolate dispenser' sounds," Connie wrote, "I'm on a restricted diet... only allowed one source. And no, swallowing is not an option for me! (Baaaarrrrffff!)" I had to take her 'one source' comment with a grain of salt. Yeah, maybe she was giving her husband another chance, but she was emailing me about blow jobs and swallowing. She didn't seem like a woman who was particularly committed to her diet restrictions. And yes, I was a little disappointed when she told me she didn't swallow. I prefer to find out if a woman swallows by cumming in her mouth. Telling me in advance was like telling me what a present was before I unwrapped it. And it not being what I wanted. In my reply I didn't address her 'one source' comment. Yeah, we both knew it wasn't going to happen under the current circumstances. Or, at least, it shouldn't. But as long as we didn't remind ourselves about that, we could have some stimulating conversation while keeping the door open for later, should her situation change. "What?!?!? You don't swallow?!?!?!?" I wrote back. "I'm getting my money back from that dating site!" "Trust me," came Connie's reply. "If I gave you head, by the time I was done with you, you wouldn't care." Now I like a woman with confidence and Connie had that. But I don't care how good she is, it would still be better if she swallowed. I said so in my reply. She came back saying no man had ever complained before. DUH! What guy is going to complain about getting a blow job? Better to get one from a woman who spits than not get one at all. I pointed that out to her as well. "You may be right about other girls," Connie wrote. "But if I gave you the best blow job you've ever had in your life, would you still care if I swallowed?" "I've had a lot of women suck my cock," I answered. "And some of them were pretty freakin' incredible. What makes you think you'd be the best I ever had?" It seemed like we were past the point where my replies had to be clever and/or funny. "Well, I've sucked a lot of men's cocks," she shot back. "And almost every one of them has told me I gave them the best head they've ever gotten!" I thought about Connie's reply for a while, not sure what to make of it. Was she really that good? Or were the guys she went down on either grateful exaggerators or losers who rarely got their dicks sucked? I couldn't help wondering if she had ever blown a guy who had gotten head from as many women as I had. The fact that she was telling me how good she was led me to believe that she wasn't serious about getting back with her husband. This prompted me to push things still further. "So when can I assess your talents for myself?" I asked in my next email. "Weeeeellllll..." Connie typed back. "That's a bit tricky. But not out of the question. I'll have to get back to you." Naturally, I took her answer to mean that she wanted to do the deed. Whether or not she was going to cheat on her husband, or if things weren't working out with him anyway, wasn't clear. At this point I didn't really care. This guy had a hot wife that gave great head, or so she claimed. If he wasn't doing his part to keep her happy, he didn't deserve her. That's how I rationalized it anyway. Bottom line is it's tough enough for me to say no to a blow job, never mind that I'm being told ahead of time that it'll be the best I've ever gotten. Connie and I continued to trade emails over the next couple months and every one of them discussed blow jobs to some extent. Sometimes it was just a joke or comment about blow jobs. Other times it was very specific and very hot. "I can't wait," Connie wrote in one such email, "to get down on my knees and suck on your cock." I couldn't help wonder when this was going to happen, but rather than pressing the issue, I simply joked that by the time we actually got together, I'd be too old, or I'd need Viagra or something like that. She usually said something along the lines of it would be worth the wait, no matter how long the wait was. If she were my only prospect, the anticipation would have killed me. Fortunately, I'm always working on multiple possibilities, so I could afford to wait for Connie to make good on her talk. After so much time and so many steamy emails, the likelihood of anything actually happening was starting to fade and with it my enthusiasm. I found myself waiting a day or two or three before responding to Connie's emails. Not because I didn't think it was ever going to happen, but because it just wasn't as much fun the fiftieth time as it was the fifth. So I was caught off-guard when she asked what I was doing the next Friday night. "No plans," I replied. "Why?" Connie explained that her husband was away for a week and while he was gone, she was going to pack up and go stay with her sister for a while. "Things aren't working out so well," she wrote. "My sis is going to spend the weekend with me and help me pack up what I need. Then I'm going to go stay with her for a bit." I wouldn't have cared if she told me her husband was going bowling Friday night and she just wanted to get together before he got home. I know that's not right, but, in my own defense, I'd been listening to Connie tell me what a great blow job she gives for too long to care. So obviously I agreed to meet her that Friday night. The place she picked kind of surprised me. It was a bar and restaurant with a big dance floor, but the music was all 50's, 60's and 70's rock. Not exactly what a frequent club-goer like myself is used to, but then again, I wasn't meeting her because I wanted to dance. I got there before Connie and had a chance to survey the scene. It was a bit of an older crowd than in a typical dance club and the music was, well, a bit older too. But otherwise, it was pretty much the same scene you'd find anywhere. I got myself a drink and chose a seat from which I could see the door and waited for Connie. I only had to wait about ten minutes for her. I spotted her as soon as she walked through the door. She was tall in her own right, and her hair was teased up the same as our last date. She was looking good in tight jeans and a tight top that showed off her body quite well. I couldn't help getting turned on thinking about how the night would end: with this beauty on her knees and my cock in her mouth. As Connie came through the crowd, I saw there was another woman with her. Judging by how similar they looked, it had to be her sister. Sure enough, Connie came over to me and introduced her sister Holly to me. Holly wasn't quite as tall, and her hair, though long and dark like Connie's, wasn't teased up. Her face looked a little older than Connie's, but not much and she had a very similar body. Holly was also dressed in jeans and a simple top, just like Connie, and they both showed up with impish grins on their faces. "We don't get out much," Holly told me with a laugh. "But when we do, look out!" They were carrying on and making a lot of noise from the moment they got there, before they had anything to drink. And as for drinking, they both polished off a couple of beers in the first twenty minutes. Most of what they were doing was funny but juvenile. They were mimicking the bad dancers on the floor (and there was no lack of those) and pointing out all the bad toupees that the bad dancers were wearing. Then they got me out on the dance floor and they really started making a spectacle. I'm not a bad dancer, but I'm also not used to dancing to 50's and 60's rock, so I was a little out of my element and wasn't in any hurry to dance. Connie and Holly weren't the type of women that would take no for an answer though, so I followed them out onto the floor. At first it was just the three of us all facing each other dancing in a little group. Then Connie started getting closer and rubbing up against me. First she just bushed her breasts across my chest a few times. Then she started stepping closer and pressing herself against me. After doing that a few times, she turned around and started grinding her ass against my crotch. I was beginning to think we probably wouldn't be staying in the club very long, the way she was turning up the heat so quickly. Before I could ask what our plans for afterward were, her sister Holly grabbed me from behind and started rubbing up against me from behind. Connie, seeing what Holly was doing, immediately began grinding her ass against me again. They went at it pretty good too, like they were trying to crush me in between them. We were getting some looks from the other dancers, but I didn't care. I already knew one of these fine looking women was going to give me head tonight and I was starting to wonder if the other one wasn't part of the game too. Holly was married, happily, I assumed and it was with her and her husband that Connie was going to be staying. So I figured this was just some harmless fun on her part, but I couldn't help wondering. Connie had told me that when they were younger, they had, on occasion, dated the same guy, but never at the same time. Connie also said that the thought of being in a threesome with her sister grossed her out, which is understandable. Of course, that didn't stop me from having a few fantasies out on the dance floor about the two of them taking turns sucking my cock. As the two of them continued to drink, and they were drinking a lot, they started telling me stories about each other. Connie told a story about Holly getting a little more than friendly with one of her professors at her community college. "She used to go to his office at least twice a week and go down on him right there!" Connie told me, while Holly laughed and said Connie was lying. "The funny part is," Connie went on over Holly's protests, "is that he gave her a 'B' for the semester! I told her she needed to learn to give better head!" "Yeah, well," Holly said, pushing her way in front of me. "She gave her boss head one time so he wouldn't fire her and then wound up canning her a week later anyway!" "That's not true!" Connie cried, pushing Holly back. "I never gave the boss head. He was gross! I broke the cash register and I got one of the other guys to tell the boss he did it and he wound up getting fired. I felt bad for him, so I might have, well..." She winked. "Then the boss found out the truth and fired me too. "If I had blown the boss, I'd still have a job. That's for sure!" Connie added. "I'm no 'B' student when it comes to that!" She pinched Holly's cheek. "Yeah, sure!" Holly laughed, slapping her sister's hand away. "You don't even swallow!" "Holly swallows," Connie told me, unnecessarily. "Me and our other sister used to call her Holly Swallow!" It was obvious to me that both women were getting pretty drunk, not just because of what they were saying, but by the way they were saying it. They weren't quite slurring their words, but they were close. They were also getting a little unsteady on their feet. Now you may think that I was encouraging them (or at least Connie) to drink, but I wasn't. In fact, it was quite the opposite. If I've got a woman who wants to do the deed sober, the last thing I want is to get her drunk. She isn't likely to give better head if she can't see straight, not to mention there's the possibility she'll pass out before we get down to business. But the real reason is that I don't want a woman to do something when she's drunk only to regret it later. I want a woman who wants to suck me. I don't want to resort to lying, tricks or alcohol. A big part of the thrill for me is knowing that a woman is getting down on her knees for me because she really wants to. Anyway, we danced, drank for several hours. At one point, Connie straddled my thigh while we were on the dance floor, grabbed me by the front of the shirt, threw her head back and acted like she was riding a bucking bronco. Her sister took a few turns at grinding her ass into my crotch too. I have to admit that I'm not particularly comfortable with being part of a public spectacle, even when it's two hot women grinding me on a dance floor. At the same time I didn't want to ruin the fun for Connie and Holly by being uptight. And I obviously didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize the blow job I was expecting from Connie. The Collector 07 Still, by midnight I was more than ready to leave. Since neither one of them was sober enough to drive, I suggested going out for some breakfast. I don't know why it is, but for some reason drunk people seem to crave bacon and eggs. Connie and Holly were no exception. Fifteen minutes later we were sitting in a booth at a local diner. Holly was fairly buzzed, but Connie was much worse. After we ordered, she excused herself and went to the ladies room. She still hadn't come back when our food arrived, so Holly went to check on her. Holly came back alone a few minutes later, saying that Connie was getting sick. "She's not much of a drinker," Holly explained needlessly. Well, I knew at that point that I wasn't going to get the great blow job Connie had been promising me and, yeah, I was pretty disappointed about it. After all, a guy can only stand so much build-up of anticipation. But there wasn't really anything I could do about it, so I chatted with Holly as we ate our food and Connie's as well. Eventually, Connie made her way back to the table and she looked like she'd been run over by a dump truck. Holly and I teased her a little, but not much. She just looked too miserable for it to be much fun. I picked up the check and offered to drive them both back to Connie's. Holly was sober enough to drive at that point, but wanted to get Connie home as quickly as possible. I agreed to stick around and drive her back to her car after they got Connie tucked into bed. When we got to Connie's house, I helped Holly get her inside. Then I waited in the living room while Holly took Connie upstairs to bed. After ten minutes I started getting impatient. I wasn't sure what was taking so long and I wanted to drop Holly off and go home. Things hadn't worked out the way I wanted, which, while frustrating, wasn't the end of the world. But now I wanted to get going. I had actually started pacing when Holly came down the stairs. "She wants you to go up," Holly said, pointing back up to Connie's bedroom. Part of me wondered if she was still thinking about giving me head. Not that I'd want her to at this point. She had just spent the better part of an hour getting sick in a diner bathroom. I'd meet her another time if she wanted, but not tonight. When I got up to her room, I could barely see her in the dim light. She was propped up with a couple pillows like something out of a bad Hollywood deathbed scene. "Sorry about tonight," Connie croaked. "You have no idea how much I wanted to." "Don't worry," I replied easily. "We'll give it another shot sometime." I'm not sure, but I think she smiled slightly. "Well, I don't want you going home with a hard on," she said, making me wonder if I was going to have to turn her down tonight. I really would have felt bad about that. But then she totally surprised me. "I told Holly to take care of you," she said. She said it so matter-of-factly that at first I didn't think she really meant what it sounded like. Then she smiled weakly and said, "She hasn't had a strange cock in a long time. It'll be good for her." "Uh," I wasn't sure what to say. I can honestly say I've never been in a situation where a woman has asked someone else to give me a blow job on her behalf. "Don't worry. I'd take care of you myself, but..." Connie gestured at a bucket Holly had left beside the bed. I stood shaking my head, still not sure what to say. "Go on," Connie said a little more forcefully. "She's good. You'll enjoy it. She's not as good as me, but she does swallow. I thought you liked that." I just agreed with her, told her I hoped she felt better and said good night. I slipped out of her room and went down the stairs, not sure what to expect, but pretty sure that Connie had not convinced her sister to blow me. I was surprised again. "So you want to go get my car first or wait until after?" Holly asked. "After?" I echoed. "Didn't Connie talk to you?" "Yeah, but..." again I found myself at a rare loss for words. "You didn't think you were going to get out of here before one of us got a shot at you, did you?" Holly had the same devilish smile as her sister. "Come on. Let's see what I've been rubbing up against all night." She stepped up to me and reached one hand around my shoulder as she bent forward and kissed my chest. At the same time, her other hand gently grasped my cock through my pants. "Uh, aren't you married?" I asked, even as I felt my member start to stiffen at her touch. "So's Connie, and that wasn't stopping you." She started rubbing me and I grew hard quickly. "Yeah, but..." "But nothing," Holly whispered as she gave my stiffening cock a firm squeeze. "Kinda obvious you want it. Just relax and enjoy." She unbuttoned my shirt and kissed her way down my chest and stomach, fondling my erect member as she did so. Well, it wasn't like I hadn't been thinking about it. Especially after Connie announced that Holly swallowed. But even I'm not crass enough to try to hook up with my date's sister, and never would have made a move on her. Not even after Connie got too drunk to live up to her promises. But here it was being handed to me on a silver platter. So I decided to take Holly's advice, relax and enjoy it. "I guess it's just as well," I said to her. "Connie said it would be better for you to go first, because after her, you'd be a let-down." Holly smiled. "Well, my sis may think she's good, but she's got nothing on me. After we're both done, you tell me who you'd rather have suck you off. I think I know who you'd choose." With that she got down on her knees and began unfastening my pants. I felt my pulse quicken as she pulled out my throbbing cock. She just held it and looked at it for a long moment, and I was afraid she was about to change her mind. Her words quickly dispelled any such worries. "God, that's magnificent," she breathed. "Your cock is gorgeous! And long, and thick and God is it hard!" I wasn't sure if she was just saying that for my benefit, because I'm not all that. I have a good sized rod, both in length and girth, but I've seen enough porn to know I'm not huge. Maybe Holly was used to something smaller. Or maybe she was saying it to get herself hot. I didn't know, and in a few minutes, I didn't care anyway. Holly pumped me slowly with her hand as she continued to admire my shaft. She bent her head down toward it and I braced myself to feel the warmth of her mouth on my head. But it didn't happen. Instead, she closed her eyes and rubbed the head of my cock gently against her eyelids. Then she rubbed me against her cheeks and finally over her slightly parted lips. She exhaled a gentle warm breath across me and then sat back on her heels looking up at me. "Wanna put it in my mouth?" Holly asked in a husky whisper. Not waiting for me to answer, she closed her eyes, tipped her head back and opened her mouth wide. Now, I've said more than once how I love to see a woman on her knees, especially with her mouth open to suck me. So it took some self-control on my part not to rush things. Two can play at the anticipation game and I was determined to have a little fun of my own. I stepped forward so my cock was just above Holly's mouth. Then, taking it in my hand, I slowly traced her lips with the pulsing head of my shaft. She brought her head forward to take me in her mouth, but I pulled away at the last second, her lips just grazing my tip. Then I took my turn rubbing my member gently over her cheeks and eyelids, finally bringing my balls up to her face. I let them brush her lips and she kissed them as I continued rubbing my cock on her. "Want it in your mouth?" I asked her. She moaned in response and once again came forward with parted lips to engulf me. Once again I pulled back from her. "Tell me. Do you want it in your mouth?" "God, yes," Holly panted. She was obviously very turned on. I love to see a woman get turned on giving head. "I want it." "Tell me," I repeated. "I want your cock in my mouth," Holly moaned, leaning forward, eyes closed and mouth open. I touched it to her tongue and watched as a bead of precum dripped into her waiting mouth. Her lips sealed around my member and her hands reached up for it. I pulled back and she lowered her hands, placing them on her thighs. I thrust myself forward again and she quickly enveloped me, sliding her lips halfway down my shaft. She held me there for a long moment, letting a long, "Mmmmmm" escape her. Then she pulled back and let me slip from her lips. "God I love having a mouthful of cock," Holly said with a slight laugh. "Did Connie tell you how much we both love to suck?" I didn't answer her, but instead took my member and tapped it lightly on each of her cheeks. Then I aimed it back toward her mouth. Holly looked up at me then back at my cock. Her lips parted as I brought it forward again. "Mmmmm," she breathed as I slid myself deep into her mouth. It was warm and wet and I felt a tremor through my whole body as she sucked me deeply. We had played the anticipation game long enough. I was ready for her to start with the serious sucking. I couldn't wait to erupt in her mouth. Eyes closed and hands on thighs, Holly leaned forward and bobbed slowly on my pulsing rod. I wasn't preventing her from using her hands, but at the moment, she really didn't need them. Her tongue gently cradled the vein in my shaft, massaging it as her lips glided up and down on me. She came all the way up every time, her lips brushing the sensitive skin around the edge of my cock's head before plunging back down again. She was silky smooth in her motion, superb with her tongue and it was mere minutes before I found myself struggling to hold back my orgasm. Obviously I realized that a situation like this, getting a blow job from my date's sister, wasn't ever likely to happen again. And naturally I was in no hurry for things to end, especially not this quickly. But Holly was quite a good cock sucker and I didn't trust myself to be able to hold back. So I pulled away from her. Her eyes opened and she looked up at me in surprise. "Too close, too quick," I explained. She smiled as if to say "I told you so." She guided me over to the sofa and sat me down. Then she proceeded to take off my shoes and pants so I was left in just my shirt and my socks. In the course of her undressing me, my orgasm receded and my cock even softened slightly. A big drop of precum glistened on the tip. Holly saw it and smiled as she tossed my clothes aside and knelt between my legs. She gripped me firmly by the base and stroked upward, squeezing out still more precum. She tossed her head, flicking her hair over her shoulder then leaned forward and put her tongue to the head of my cock. She dabbed it in the precum, twirling it as she looked up into my eyes. She played with it for a few moments before licking it away. "Mmmmm, I can't wait to taste the rest of your juices," she murmured as she lapped away the last of the precum. Then Holly settled back and ran her fingers up the insides of my thighs, sending a tingle through my loins. As her hands got close to my balls, she leaned forward and ran her tongue over my sack. Many women are over-zealous ball-lickers, and it can be uncomfortable. Holly's touch was light and sensual though, causing me to inhale sharply at the sudden pleasure. My cock fell across her face as her tongue continued its dance along my balls. If a woman on her knees with a cock in her mouth is one of the most beautiful sights on this earth, a woman on her knees with a cock across her face is a close second. Holly finished with my balls and licked her way to the top of my shaft. She held me in her hand and gave me a single quick suck before looking up at me. "Okay, I've played around with you enough. Time for you to cum," she said, and bobbed once more. "In my mouth." She bobbed again. "So I can swallow." Another bob. "Your load." Two more quick bobs. "Are you ready?" Holly looked up at me. I took a deep breath and nodded. I expected a sudden onslaught of fast sucking, but Holly was better than that. She sucked slowly and sensually, taking me deep in her mouth each time. Her left hand reached up under my shirt, caressing my chest while her right hand held my shaft firmly at the base. She used her thumb to massage the underside of my cock as she sucked it. It was pretty awesome. Everything, my cock, balls and the whole area in general flushed with a warm sensation. It wasn't long before I was fighting back my orgasm again. Holly might have sensed how close I was getting, because she stopped sucking me and started running her tongue up each of my thighs in turn. Now, while this certainly feels good, it isn't nearly as sensitive an area, so I was able to catch my breath as it were. Her hands on the tops of my thighs, Holly looked up at me as she licked up to my balls on each side. There was a slight smile on her face. She knew she had me any time she wanted. She was a cat toying with a mouse she had caught. Then she took me back in her mouth and bobbed more quickly than before. Not fast or reckless; she was still quite sensual in her sucking and her thumb resumed its caressing of the vein in my cock. In just a few minutes I was right at the edge again. I looked down between my legs and watched her lips gliding up and down on me as she sucked with her eyes closed. Then I leaned my head to one side to get a better look at her body. She was on her knees in her tight jeans, her back arched as she leaned her arms on my thighs. Her knees were close together and she held her back fairly still as she bobbed from her neck. That was all I needed to see to push me over the edge. With a throaty groan, I threw my head back and felt my cock explode in Holly's mouth. I felt at least three big pulses surge out of me as I emptied my balls into her waiting mouth. To Holly's credit, not a drop escaped from her lips. She continued sucking me for another minute or so, sending spasms of pleasure shooting through me. When she finally took my spent shaft from her mouth, I was totally drained. But Holly wasn't done with me yet. She opened her mouth and showed me the large gob of cum she had sucked from me. Then she swallowed it down. I felt a surge of stimulation, even though my hard on was fading, as I watched her swallow my cum. I wonder if she realized at the time how often I would get hard just thinking about how she showed me my load before she drank it down. Every time I replay that in my mind, I get wood all over again. Holly had a big smile on her face as she ran her fingers over my diminishing member. She gave it one last lick, cleaning away a last drop of cum that had leaked out, then sat back on her heels. "If Connie can top that, I want to hear about it," Holly said with a little laugh. I had to admit, at that moment it sure didn't seem likely. After I got dressed, I had to drive Holly back to the club to get her car. On the way over, she went down on me again. She unzipped my pants as I was driving, pulled out my cock, put her head down in my lap and coaxed me erect with some more of her deep sensual sucking. She only sucked me for a couple minutes and I didn't cum, but it felt good all the same. "I just can't get enough sometimes," Holly confessed as I pulled up beside her car. She leaned over and sucked me one last time before thanking me for the ride and getting out. Ordinarily, I might feel cheated being left with a hard on that way. But not that night. I had been well satisfied and that last bit was pure bonus time. Okay, this is a tough one to score for several reasons. First, Holly gave me a great blow job that I totally wasn't expecting. With Connie getting sick, I thought I was going to go home empty handed and I couldn't have been more wrong. Second, she really had great cock sucking techniques. She was also quite good at toying with me and building my anticipation to the point where I was close before she even got down to serious business. I'm a guy who's used to getting his cock sucked, and I had trouble holding back after all of that. There was also Holly's enthusiasm. She clearly enjoyed having my cock in her mouth, as the sucking she gave me on the way back to get her car showed. I understand that many women who give head don't necessarily enjoy it. They may enjoy pleasing their man or how it makes them feel sexy because they've made him cum, but still don't enjoy the act itself, or the taste it leaves in their mouths. A woman who truly savors the taste of cock and cum is a special and wonderful thing. Holly also, as promised, swallowed my cum. I've mentioned that, even though I can't explain why, a woman who swallows, letting my load roll down the back of her throat and into her stomach, really does something for me. Not only that, but she showed me her mouth full of it first, then swallowed. That's something I still like to think about to this day. So basically, anything less than a ten is going to make me sound like an ungrateful jerk. But there are several things that I base my judgment on, and to be fair to every other woman I've rated, I have to apply them consistently. In Holly's case, the way she was dressed goes against her. Yes, her body looked good in tight jeans and a simple top, but I prefer dresses and skirts to slacks, and any of those to jeans. So that was one thing. Second, while she was on her knees for the whole blow job, I was only standing up for part of it. Yes, a woman on her knees is a woman on her knees and I'm obviously not complaining. But for whatever reason, it is sexier to me if I'm standing in front of her while she's on her knees. So let's call it a nine point five. Holly's excellent blow job on a night when her sister was supposed to be sucking me makes for one of my favorite entries. And for those of you wondering about Connie, don't worry. She eventually made good on her promise. Was she worth the wait? Stay tuned... I'm saving that for a later journal entry. The Collector 08 As a guy who loves well-dressed women, I naturally like places and events where women get dressed up. One of my favorites is weddings, and not just because of the clothes and the coiffing. Weddings, aside from being a showcase for both male and female fashion, also have a very sexual electricity about them. The garter is a perfect example: a young single guy reaching his hands up the dress of a young single girl as the MC dares him to go as far as his nerve will take him. Of course, weddings aren't sexy because of the garter. Quite the opposite. The garter is part of the wedding because weddings revolve around sex. I don't know exactly why it is. Maybe it's just having a lot of well-dressed people celebrating in a social situation where plenty of alcohol is available. Or it could be a traditional thing, where people imagine they'll meet the person of their dreams at a wedding. Or maybe the romantic aspect of weddings lowers the guard of the women and makes them more accessible (or susceptible) to the men. Whatever it is, some of my favorite blow job journal stories have to do directly with weddings. This particular incident got started when I went to get a haircut. I go to one of those chain places where you don't need an appointment and they always have a bunch of good looking women stylists. They let you specify who you want to cut your hair, but I like to take the luck of the draw. On this occasion I was a little disappointed, I confess, when I got the older, frumpy stylist. But I'm not complaining. I like leaving things like that to chance because you never know what could happen. This is a perfect example. Brenda, as I said, was easily ten to fifteen years older than any other stylist in the salon. She was medium height and sort of stocky and wore very baggy, non-descript clothes. Her hair and make-up, naturally, were very nicely done and she had a pretty face, if a little chubby. She had dark brown hair frozen in place with hairspray that stopped above her shoulders. Her eyes were a twinkling bright blue and she had a nice smile. Her clothes made it difficult to tell anything about her body. She clearly had ample breasts, but what was beneath them was hidden. Her shirt was almost comically oversized, hanging down to the middle of her thighs. The bottom of a baggy pair of jogging pants hid the rest of her. Now I go to this place regularly, so they know me on sight. Whether they actually remember my name, I don't know. I give them my name when I get there and they all wear nametags, so we all talk like we know each other. When I sat down, I joked with her to do a good job because I was getting married this weekend. "Really?" Brenda asked with wide eyes and a big smile. "No, just kidding," I confessed. She gave me an "Oh, you!" and swatted playfully at me with her hand towel. As she started cutting my hair, we made small talk. I always enjoy the chattiness of the stylists. I guess if you have to talk to a couple dozen strangers a day, you have to be good at chit-chat. Brenda was no exception. We went through the usual stuff. She asked me how work was going, what movies I had seen and so on. "Oops!" Brenda said suddenly. "Oops?" I echoed? "I hope you didn't mess anything up. My fiancée will shot you!" "No, no. It's okay," Brenda reassured me. "Are you really getting married?" "Nope. I'm not even seeing anybody." "Aagh! That's twice you got me!" She gave me a soft punch in the arm. "Funny you mention it though, 'cause I've got a wedding to go to and I'm really dreading it." "Really? Why's that?" I asked. I wasn't particularly interested, but the code of small talk requires you ask the questions that you're set up to ask. "My ex will be there with his new wife," said Brenda with a slight sneer. "She's about half his age. Talk about mid-life crisis." "So go get yourself a strapping young lad to parade around with," I suggested without really thinking about it. "Hmmmm, good idea," she replied. "What are you doing a week from Saturday?" She gave a short, nervous laugh, meant to show she was only joking. "Next Saturday? Hmmm... I might be getting married," I said with a grin. "Oh, no. I'm not falling for it this time!" Brenda laughed. "Okay, then I guess I'm not doing anything. What did you have in mind?" Our eyes met in the mirror and I winked at her. Now I really didn't think there was any possibilities in this situation, but I'm so used to constantly flirting, I guess it was just force of habit. Brenda, for her part, wasn't sure if she should take me at face value. "I wish I did know someone to take," she said. "I'd love to wipe that smug look off his face." She paused for a moment, looked at me in the mirror and shrugged. "Wanna be my date?" she said with another nervous laugh as she resumed cutting my hair. "Depends," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "Would I have to put out?" "Yes, preferably with my ex watching," Brenda shot back without missing a beat. We both laughed. We continued to joke about it until she finished cutting my hair. I thanked her for the haircut as I got out of the chair. "So what time Saturday?" I asked. Now you're probably wondering what the hell I'm doing pushing the issue. After all, she hardly knows me and she probably figures I'm just toying with her. Why would a good looking young guy be interested in going out with her? But I actually was. Why? Several reasons, most of them selfish, as you probably would guess. First, though I hate to admit to being so predatory, I could sense her vulnerability. It's almost like a scent some women give off. I can't explain it any better than that. Some women have a way of letting men know, with their body language, what they say, what they don't say, that they can be had. Brenda, I could tell, would be easy, uncomplicated prey. Second, I really do have a thing for older women. Okay, I generally prefer them with sexier bodies, but hey, all I really want is a blow job. Maybe Brenda wasn't my ideal choice, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want to see her on her knees. Yeah, that makes me a bit of a bastard, I know. But I was already looking at Brenda's lips and wondering how good she was at giving head. Now there was a less selfish side of me that honestly thought it would be a nice ego boost for Brenda to face her ex with a good looking younger man at her side. Brenda was almost certainly thinking along those lines when she accepted. Yeah, I know I can't pretend this was a good deed sort of thing on my part. I'm a dog and I know it. But it's nice to know that Brenda was being helped, too. I asked her how she wanted to play it. Was I going to be a just-a-friend date, a friend-wink-wink date or did she want to come off like we were a couple? "I think I'll just introduce you as my friend, and leave it at that," Brenda decided. "Not knowing will bother him more than anything." She smiled devilishly. We made arrangements for me to pick Brenda up at the salon and go to the wedding from there. We joked about it for a few more minutes before I left. I took a look back at Brenda as I walked to my car. She wasn't much to look at in her baggy clothes, but something told me she would be on her knees for me soon. I can't say why, but I was willing to bet she gave really good head. On the day of the wedding I dressed to impress. Not so much for Brenda, at least not directly. But I figured the better I looked, the more jealous her ex would be. And the more jealous he was, the more grateful Brenda would be. Of course, it certainly couldn't hurt my cause if Brenda was a little wowed herself. When I pulled up to meet Brenda, I almost didn't recognize her. Her hair had been done since I saw her last, and while the style was still similar, her brown hair was now a reddish-brown. She was wearing more makeup than I had ever seen her wear at the salon. In particular I was drawn to how the ruby red lipstick she was wearing made her lips look very full and inviting. Her blue eyes still had a nervous twinkle about them, but it was hidden somewhat by her mascara. A layer of foundation likewise took years off her appearance. But what really made a difference was how she was dressed. I had only seen her in the tent-like tops she wore to the salon and had assumed that she was pretty thick through the middle. I could see now that that wasn't the case. Brenda was wearing a tight black evening dress that really showed off her huge breasts. That wasn't the surprising part. What I was expecting was her to be big all the way down, but she wasn't. In her snug fitting dress, Brenda suddenly had a very curvy, if still a bit large, figure. Now I'm not turned off by a woman having a few extra pounds on her, as long as she still has a womanly figure. By that I mean her waistline is thinner than her bust line and hips. In Brenda's case I suspected she was being helped along by some control top undies, but I didn't care. This was much better than I had been expecting. I had to remind myself not to stare, especially at her cleavage, as I got out to open the car door for her. "Wow," I said as she gave me a peck on the cheek. "You should dress up like this more often. You'd have guys lining to go out with you." "Not practical," Brenda replied with a smile, clearly enjoying the compliment. "What you don't know is that I had to start getting ready two days ago!" We laughed as we got in the car and drove to the wedding. The church service was nice and mercifully brief. Brenda kept us to the back, hoping that her ex wouldn't see us before the reception. She insisted we slip away and wait for all the other guests to get to the reception before us as well. I knew she wanted to maximize the shock value by catching her ex off-guard, so I played along. We stopped at a bar on the way and had a drink to kill time. Brenda was clearly distracted, worrying about whether or not this plan of bringing me as her date would have the desired effect. I tried to reassure her, telling her that after he saw her in that dress, he'd be eating his heart out even if she was there without a date. I could tell she wasn't really believing me, and it's a shame, because I meant it. Brenda was one of those women who could be genuinely sexy if she had more self-confidence. I told her so, but I don't think she was ready to let herself believe it. When we got to the reception, we got drinks and mingled. Brenda knew at least half the people there and it was a good half hour before we actually came face to face with the dreaded ex. He was a rather scruffy looking guy, somewhat shorted than me, in a poorly fitting suit with a beer gut and thinning hair. I'll never understand why women let a man's opinion of them matter so much, especially when the guy in question isn't worthy of them in the first place. Brenda seemed a bit nervous as she introduced me to him and his wife. I was hoping she'd be more nonchalant, but at least she was getting the results she had hoped for. The ex, Doug, I think his name was, started asking her questions right away, right there in front of me and his wife. Actually, it seemed more like an interrogation and there was no mistaking the underlying hostility in his voice. I quickly made an excuse and pulled her away before she could answer him. "That's the guy you think you need to impress?" I asked her once we were away from him. "Please. And that wife, she may be younger, but she's got nothing on you." That was true. The wife was chubby and moon-faced with greasy hair and a slack-jawed look to her. Her posture was poor and her dress didn't fit her. Brenda might not be a hottie in her own right, but I couldn't imagine anyone picking that wife over her. "It looks like it's working anyway," replied Brenda with a nervous laugh. "Maybe," I agreed. "But it shouldn't matter anyway. You're too good for him in the first place." After the dinner, Brenda and I danced like we were a couple as the ex watched from his seat. I could feel his eyes on us constantly, especially during a slow dance. Twice he went up to Brenda when she was alone and started talking animatedly to her. On both occasions I waited a few minutes and then interrupted, guiding her away. On the one hand, Brenda was relishing the effect this was having on him. On the other hand, her success seemed to be making her nervous. Fortunately, he and his wife got up and left abruptly, even before the wedding cake had been cut. Brenda relaxed significantly after he departed. She was almost giddy. When we danced now, she was looking at me, not over her shoulder for him. "I can't believe it!" she said. "He was pissed! I can't believe how well this worked!" "Yeah, it worked all right," I agreed. "But it doesn't matter. His opinion shouldn't matter to you anyway. You're sooo too good for him it isn't funny." She pulled me a little closer as we danced. "Thank you," she whispered. "You're right." The rest of the night we danced, drank and had fun. Brenda's smile was non-stop, her mood almost deliriously happy. I wasn't sure if it was just because she had one-upped her ex, or if she truly felt the weight of his opinions lifted from her. Whatever it was, she was more than ready to give me the credit for it. And maybe looking to give me something else as well, I hoped. I had been looking at her all night in that tight black dress, soaking in her big breasts, her ruby lips and her nervous, twinkling eyes. Now Brenda was looking back at me in the same way. She had had her victory over her ex and was ready to celebrate. And lucky for her, I was there to help her. The ex forgotten now, it was starting to feel more like a real date. There was a different nervousness, a sexually charged one, that was quickly taking over between us. At first Brenda was tentative, afraid that she might scare me away. But once she realized that wasn't the case, that I was flirting back with her, things started to heat up. Brenda was the touchy-feely sort anyway, but now she was leaning on me, grabbing my arm and brushing her sizeable breasts against me in a way that was more than casual. After the wedding was over and I was driving her back to her car at the salon, she reached over and put her hand on my leg. When I didn't object, she leaned her head against my shoulder and started rubbing my thigh. I thought she might go for it right then, but she didn't. But she must have noticed the stirring in my pants she created. When we got back to the salon, I pulled around behind the building where she was parked. We started making out almost immediately. Our lips came together in a flurry of kisses as our hands started exploring each other's bodies. I quickly slipped a hand down into the cup of her bra and cradled one of those melon-like breasts in my hand. Brenda moaned appreciatively as I caressed it slowly and firmly. I kissed my way down her neck to her breasts, pausing to bury my face between them before seeking out her nipple with my tongue. Her dress was very low cut and easily pushed aside to leave those monsters exposed in the lights of the parking lot. They were saggy, yes, but they were so big and with huge, erect nipples. Brenda threw her head back and let me attack them, crying out softly with pleasure at every touch. I nibbled on her nipples, gently squeezing them between my teeth as I continued knead them with my hands. It was getting pretty steamy in the car. In fact, the windows were beginning to fog up when Brenda pulled away from me and slipped her dress back over her breasts. "Come on," she said, opening the door. "I've got a key." I needed no more encouragement, and followed her through the back door and into the darkened building. Brenda flicked on the lights, revealing a rather cramped back room. There were a few seats, a small table and a refrigerator in the main section of the room. A tiny office and a bathroom were off to one side. It didn't look a whole lot more roomy than the front seat of my car. I didn't get a chance to say so though. "Where were we?" asked Brenda as she crushed her mamoth breasts against my chest and kissed me. I kissed her back, letting my tongue slip into her mouth. The kisses got deeper and wetter as our hands began groping at each other. I was caressing her breasts through her dress, pressing firmly and rubbing them. They were soft and moved easily under my hands, like miniature waterbeds. When I reached further down, trying to slip a hand under Brenda's dress, she backed away, smiling. "I've got a better idea," she said, stepping close again, but pushing my hands away from her. She flicked my tie aside and unbuckled my belt. She gave a quick glance up at me, like a person checking for cars before crossing the street, and then unsnapped my pants. Brenda took another quick look up at me before pulling down my fly and reaching her hand into my pants. "Oooh," she moaned as her hand closed around my rock hard member. I felt her body tremble slightly as she gave me a gentle squeeze. With one last look up at me, Brenda lowered herself to her knees and pulled my pants down to my ankles. My cock was less than a few inches from her face as she took hold of it. A soft yet high pitched sigh, almost a whimper, escaped her as she held my member in her hand. Then she lowered her lips over my shaft and started sucking on me. I noticed that there was a mirror on the wall beside us in which I could watch Brenda sucking me. I have to say, if you've never watched a woman in the mirror as she sucks your cock, you've got to try it. Looking down from the top just doesn't compare to being able to watch from the side like that. I could clearly see Brenda's mouth opening to take my rod in, her lips closing around me and then her lips dragging gently along my shaft as she sucked back up to the top of my cock. I could see the glisten of saliva left behind my her warm, wet mouth. I could see the ring on her thumb pressing against my vein as she grasped me at the base. I also had a wonderful profile of Brenda on her knees, feet nicely pointed out behind her, her massive breasts swaying and brushing against me as she bobbed up and down on my cock. It's such a fine sight to see a woman on her knees with her lips around me. And I can't say enough how awesome it is to see from that angle how a woman's mouth takes in my cock; to see how far her lips stretch to accommodate my girth. Brenda's head was tilted back to accept my cock, which she pulled down into her mouth. Her eyes were closed as she lost herself in the act of sucking me. At first her sucking was slow and deep and I could feel my balls getting tighter with every trip her lips made down my shaft. Unfortunately, when she started sucking faster, things went downhill. Despite the fullness of Brenda's lips, I could feel teeth rubbing against the sensitive skin of my cock. The faster she went, the more she seemed to scratch me. Now I love getting sucked off, obviously, and I love to savor each new woman's mouth on my cock. And it wasn't like Brenda was the first woman to ever let her teeth get to me. But it was uncomfortable and distracting and I almost wanted to cum quickly just to get it over with. Then I got an idea and pulled away from her. She looked up at me in surprise. Obviously, I didn't want to say anything about her teeth on me, so instead I told her to lay on her back. "Let me put it between those mountains of yours," I said, suddenly very turned on by the idea of tit-fucking Brenda. Her eyebrows arched and eyes widened in surprise and I was sure she would say no. But then with a shrug, she slipped her arms out of her dress, undid her bra and let her melon-like breasts spill out. I could hardly believe it as she lay down, her massive breasts jiggling and sloshing around like balloons full of Jell-O. I gave each nipple a quick sucking before I straddled Brenda and put my cock between her breasts. She pressed them together as I started to rock my hips back and forth on top of her. It felt pretty good, slithering my cock between her massive breasts that way. Brenda was moaning as I pumped away on top of her. I wasn't sure if it really felt good for her or if it was just the excitement of having a man's shaft between her breasts that made her moan. At any rate, we were both enjoying ourselves. The Collector 08 After a few minutes though, I was longing to be back in Brenda's mouth again. I pulled my cock from between her tits and crawled forward until I was hanging down over Brenda's face. She didn't need any more prompting than that. She quickly sucked my cock back into her mouth and began going at it full force almost at once. It was an awkward angle for her with me sitting astride her and pushing my shaft down into her mouth. She bent her head at the neck as far down as she could, but there was no way she was going to get more than half of my shaft in her mouth from that angle. But that was okay because the change in position seemed to have solved the problem of her teeth. And also, I'd get a really good look at her face as I came in her mouth. That's another one I feel I should share. If you've never sat astride a woman's chest and cum in her mouth, do it. And be sure to watch her as you squirt into her mouth. The expression on her face when she tastes that first sticky gob on her tongue will tell you what kind of cock sucker she is. It's easy to spot the ones that really get into it, that want their mouths filled with a man's cum. Brenda was definitely in that category. I watched her bob awkwardly on my shaft for several more minutes before I finally climaxed. I felt it building in me and I tightened all the muscles in my loins, holding back as long as possible. I felt the warm flush of orgasm shake my body before I relaxed and let my cum escape. It shot out into her waiting mouth in one large gob and I made sure I kept my attention on Brenda's face the whole time. She paused and her brow furrowed briefly as my sperm filled her mouth, but it lasted only an instant. Even as I added my second and third spurts she started sucking on me again. A moment later she tapped me on the thigh. "Stand up," Brenda said as she let me fall from her mouth. I climbed off of her, assuming that she wanted to hurry to the bathroom and spit out my load. She surprised me though by getting quickly to her knees and grabbing me tightly at the base of my shaft. Her firm grip kept my erection from fading as she resumed sucking me. Fortunately, her pace was slow and it was nothing but her lips that I felt caressing my cock. It was a soft, almost tender sucking she gave me, and it sent post-orgasm tremors shooting through my whole body. Brenda must have sucked me that way for another five minutes, her bare breasts swaying with the rhythm of her bobbing. It was almost too much for me to take and toward the end it was verging on painful. When she finally released her grip, a last dribble of cum spilled from my cock. She sucked it away, licked me a few more times for good measure and planted a last kiss on my head. "I wasn't done yet," Brenda said with a wink as she pulled the top of her dress back up. "I couldn't do things like I wanted when I was lying down." Still on her knees, she reached out and gave my cock a last gentle squeeze. "I love having a man in my mouth," she added. "Well, I like being in a woman's mouth," I replied. "Especially one like you who knows what to do with it." "Any time," Brenda said. "I'd suck a nice one like yours any time." She looked up at me from her knees, her eyes open wide with sincerity, and I think at that moment she might have actually meant it. She bent and kissed my cock one last time before I helped her to her feet. Okay, so what did I think of Brenda as a cock sucker? Well, the big negative was her teeth digging into me as she started bobbing hard and fast. While the tit fucking was fun and a nice change of pace, anyone who has read my other entries knows I would have rather stood over her and let her suck my cock on her knees. So while my improvising saved the situation, I was still a little let down that I couldn't enjoy it the way I wanted to. Watching in the mirror was great too, but at the time I couldn't help thinking how much better it would be if I was watching a really hot woman suck me. Brenda was dressed in an elegant black evening dress and had a better body than I expected, but she still was a bit on the flabby side. I'm not being critical or saying that ruins it for me. Not at all. But given the choice, I'll bet I'm not alone when I say I would rather watch a gorgeous woman give me head. The last knock against Brenda was her insecurity. I knew from the start she would be easy prey. She had a nervousness that a guy like me picks up on right away. It practically screams that she'll do anything for male attention and approval. Now that's great if you're trying to get a blow job. But the other side of that is that it makes me feel like an asshole for taking advantage of her vulnerability. Yeah, I know what you're saying. Where was my conscience when she was on her knees and I had a hard on, right? But at least I feel a little guilty after the fact. On the plus side, Brenda's slow sucking of me was excellent. That she let me tit fuck her and then sit astride her and cum in her mouth was pretty awesome too. There's nothing like pouring your load into a woman's mouth while watching the expression on her face. And of course, I was very turned on by the way Brenda swallowed every drop of my cum and licked me clean too. As for her sucking me after I came, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, how could I not like it when a woman enjoys sucking cock so much that she doesn't want it to be over; when she wants to have a hard shaft in her mouth a while longer? On the other hand, I'm very sensitive after orgasm and there's only so much more stimulation I can take at that point. Overall, I'd rate Brenda an eight point five. That might be a little bit generous, but what the hell. That last half point might be because I really think she meant it when she said she would suck me any time. Or maybe because every time I get my hair cut from now on, I'll be able to look at Brenda and think about how her mouth looked with my cock in it, how her big floppy breasts squeezed around my cock and how I sent her home with a belly full of my sperm. Yeah, I'd have to say that's worth an extra half point. The Collector 09 Okay, this next one I almost wasn't going to put in my journal. I started writing about it for an earlier entry, then changed my mind. There are a few reasons why I'm hesitant to write about this blow job. One is that I still work with the woman in question. Yeah, I know I keep things anonymous, use other names and all. But it still seems a little risky writing about someone see every day. Especially since she's married. Which is another reason I'm not sure I should be writing this. But the real reason isn't either of those. There's another woman I still work with who's sucked my cock, and I'll probably write about her. I've already written about a couple of married women who've sucked my cock, and they aren't the only ones. It has more to do with me than her. I'm not particularly proud of myself for this one, and not because she's married or works with me. Angie is, and has always been, a first class bitch. Everyone in the office knows it and they avoid her whenever possible. She has a condescending way of talking to people and she's petty and spiteful. Part of her job involves processing expense reports, and I can't tell you how many people have had screaming fights with her because she wouldn't approve legitimate expenses. The worst part is everyone knows she does it not out of a sense of duty, but simply to exercise a little petty tyranny over her co-workers. Angie used to process time cards for payroll, where she had a reputation for arbitrarily deciding that some peoples' overtime was not approved. People who worked those hours and expected to be paid for them were more than a little peeved with her. Again, she had no real reason to do something like that. It was all very small-minded and spiteful. People with whom she got along, and I was a member of this small group, never had these problems with her. Just because it wasn't happening to me didn't mean I didn't care. I really didn't like the woman. Of course, I was always polite and courteous to her, but that's the way I am with everyone. But it certainly didn't mean that I liked her. I didn't. So how did I wind up getting my cock sucked by this woman if I truly didn't like her? Well, that's part of what makes this embarrassing for me. I got Angie to suck my cock for sadistic reasons, almost as a form of revenge for the way she treated all of the other people we work with. And I liked it. If you've ever stuffed your cock into the mouth of a woman you didn't like, then you'll understand. If you've gotten a mean-spirited, spiteful bitch to humble herself on her knees, to look up at you with her lips around your shaft and to taste your load on her tongue, you'll understand. I'm embarrassed to admit how much I enjoyed the primal, savage satisfaction I got from it. Angie was maybe five-three or five-four and very thin with almost no hips or ass at all. What she lacked in curves on the bottom though, she more than made up for on top. I don't think I've ever seen a woman as thin as Angie with breasts so large. Not real ones anyway. She had light brown hair cut short in an almost boyish style. Her neck was long and rather slender. She had high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, a delicate nose and a small, thin-lipped mouth. She had a very pretty, if seldom seen smile. She usually wore slacks or a long dress, which was probably best because it hid how bony her legs were. She also tried to hide how large her breasts were by wearing oversized blouses, but there's no way a woman so slightly built could conceal those double D's. Angie was married and had a couple of kids. Judging by the pictures on her desk, they were at least grammar school age, so Angie, who was in her early thirties, must have had them fairly young. I've noticed that some women who marry and have families when they're that young get a bit restless when they get to Angie's age. Especially ones who married their high school or college sweethearts. Maybe they feel like they missed out on dating and partying or something, but I don't think that's it. It's more likely that husbands and wives can grow apart easily, especially when what they had in common, like their high school or college circle of friends, is taken out of the picture. I don't know if Angie was a nasty bitch when her husband married her or if it's his fault she became that way. Either way, by the time I met her, she was clearly not a happy person at work, and I just couldn't imagine things were much better at home. So it's really not all that surprising that she was nice to a single, good looking young guy like myself. Especially since I was one of the few people in the place who was civil to her. Eye contact, I've always said, is one of the most effective ways of flirting. If you meet a woman's gaze for a moment and then look away, it means nothing. But if you keep looking into each others eyes past the point where you both know you should have looked away, pulses start to speed up. Angie had crystal blue eyes and for many people, they must have seemed like daggers. When she turned them on me though, I always looked steadily back into them. I didn't really like Angie, but it was clear that she liked me. Since she was obviously a person who made life difficult for those she didn't like, I used these moments to stay on her good side. Yeah, that's a little manipulative, but it's nothing compared to what she dished out. Anyway, my point was that it was obvious she liked me by the way she maintained eye contact with me and was nice to me, in stark contrast to the way she treated others. But even after I started this little collection of mine, I never really seriously considered her. What got me to thinking about her was a conversation I overheard. I had taken a bunch of work into one of the empty private offices to get away from the distractions of coworkers and telephones. For most part, I was just sitting there reading through some files. I guess I was being rather quiet and no one realized I was in there. Two guys who's voices I recognized started complaining in hushed tones about "that smelly cunt" and the "expense report nazi." Naturally, I knew exactly whom they were talking about. "Man, I'd love to put it up her ass until she cried," said the first guy. "Yeah, then pull it out and shove it straight in her mouth!" said the second. "Exactly. Fucking bitch!" "Not that she'd ever suck a dick, that frigid cunt," the second guy said. "Are you kidding?" asked the second. "You never heard about her and Frank? One of the cleaning guys caught her knobbing him in his car in the parking lot one night. I can't believe you never heard about that." The first guy said something, but I couldn't hear what it was. "Yeah, and a couple people said they saw the two of them coming out of the file room together, you know, after hours. More than once." I was suddenly paying very close attention. I had never heard any of this. The only guy named Frank I could think of had left the company several months ago. I didn't really know him, but I knew who he was. I found myself getting turned on thinking about Angie blowing him in his car and maybe even in the file room. Angie was such a bitch that even a guy as obsessed with blow jobs as me never really thought of her that way. All of a sudden, I couldn't get the thought of her sucking cock out of my mind. At that moment I made a conscious decision to try to get Angie to suck me off. It wound up taking a few months, but the moment I started trying was when I overheard that conversation. I started slowly, making excuses to go through Angie's area a little more often, going to lunch at the same time, etc. It gave me a few extra opportunities to smile and say hi to her. And make eye contact, of course. I also knew she often spent large chunks of time in the afternoons alone in the file room, so I'd pull a couple files out in the morning and bring them back when she was in there. The relative isolation of the file room, combined with the thoughts that Angie may have already sucked some cock in there, gave me a little charge each time I went in. Angie usually said hi and gave me a smile when I saw her in the file room. She must have noticed that I was suddenly popping in three or four times a week when she was working in there. On occasion we'd actually have conversations. They weren't very flirtatious or even very interesting. But we kept our eyes locked on each other the entire time. It was almost like a staring contest and neither one of us would look away. I'd leave with a tingling in my loins after those little chats, despite the fact that nothing remotely sexy was said. I have to say, I think she must have been feeling it too. Early on, those conversations were rare. Angie would look up, say hi and then go back to her work. As things progressed, we wound up talking more often and for longer stretches each time. And I noticed that she was frequently the one to instigate our exchanges. It was almost like she thought of some topic or question in advance. Who knows? Maybe she did. One time when I encountered Angie in there, she was kneeling on the floor to get stuff out of the bottom drawer of a file cabinet. As I've mentioned many times before, and probably will mention many more times again, the sight of a woman on her knees really gets my blood pumping. Pumping right into my cock usually. So there I am talking to this woman who's on her knees and making unflinching eye contact with me in a room where she probably gave another man head. I could feel my cock start to swell in my pants as I concentrated on Angie's eyes. As my member expanded, it caught at an awkward angle in the leg of my pants. I wanted so badly to reach down and tug it into a more comfortable position and let it continue to grow unhindered. But instead I kept my eyes locked on Angie's, hoping her eyes didn't stray from mine to what was going on in my pants. I don't know if it was just the discomfort of my constrained erection, but that conversation seemed to last much longer than usual. I couldn't even tell you what we were talking about either. On the one hand, I was totally distracted by the discomfort of my cock getting pinned down by my pants. On the other, I kept looking at and thinking about Angie on her knees, which only made the problem of my stifled erection worse. All things considered, I thought I handled it quite well and Angie never gave any indication that she saw any of the extracurricular stuff going on below my belt. I should probably mention that during this time that although Angie was quite nice to me, she was still the same unholy bitch she had always been to everyone else. Because I was taking extra trips past her desk I heard more of her heated exchanges than I ever had before. Some of it was so ridiculous that I wanted to go argue with her myself. I mean, we work for a good sized company and she was telling someone they couldn't put a one dollar toll on their expense report because they could have taken a non-toll road. It was difficult not to tell her what a mean, petty little bitch she was being. I told myself to be patient and keep thinking of the day when I could shut her up by stuffing my cock into her mouth. I don't like pretending to like someone to get something from them. I don't like being a phony. But in this case I was able to rationalize that it was okay this time because Angie was such a bitch. She deserved it. She deserved to be treated badly for the way she treated others. It would serve her right to find out I didn't like her only after she had sucked my cock. Yeah, that's pretty rotten, and probably why I wasn't going to include this in my journal. But that's how I felt. So no matter how much Angie's pettiness irritated me, I always managed to be pleasant with her. If it made me feel like more of a jerk than usual, that only made me want to blast my load down her throat even more. I kept up my routine of going to the file room in the afternoon and chatting with her. More and more I could feel the sexual charge building between us, even though our conversations were fairly bland. I sensed it was only a matter of time, but knew that it would have to be up to Angie to make the first move. Of course, I wanted to give Angie the perfect opportunity to make her move. In the course of 'stalking' her for several weeks, I had gotten her routine down and had figured out the most likely time. If anything was going to happen, it would be Thursday afternoon. On Thursdays, Angie would be in the file room well after five o'clock, long after most of the staff had gone home. While I had made a regular thing of going back when she was there, I had never gone back after hours. That was my next move. I waited until quarter past before I popped in on her. As always, I had a handful of files that I was "returning." If Angie was surprised to see me, she didn't show it. "Working late?" she asked, barely looking up from her own pile of folders. "Just finishing up before I head out. You?" "This is a regular thing for me," Angie replied, indicating the stacks around her. "I'm always here late on Thursdays." Now she was looking up at me and I stopped to meet her gaze. I asked her why she worked late and she answered and we continued to stare into each other's eyes. I barely heard her explanation. I could feel the early stirrings of an erection, growing stronger every moment our eyes remained locked on each other. This time I was prepared. Knowing that I might get aroused, I had arranged things to allow my cock to swell unhindered by my clothes. As Angie and I made pointless small talk and stared into each other's eyes, my shaft was steadily getting harder. And I made no effort to conceal it. In just a few minutes I had a raging hard on, straining against the fabric of my pants. I wasn't sure if Angie was aware of it or not, but I suspected she was. Angie was a smart woman. She might have been an insufferable bitch, but she wasn't stupid. Plenty of the people who had gotten into arguments with her found that her intelligence was not to be taken lightly. She must have known I was deliberately making excuses to go to the file room when she was there. I'm sure she knew about the rumors and she probably knew exactly why I kept coming back to that isolated room. So I was pretty sure she was aware of the bulge in my pants as I stood there chatting with her. And I'm also fairly sure that she wasn't surprised by my erection. All of this sexual tension had been bubbling just below the surface, covered only by a thin veneer of polite conversation. We both knew it. It was only a matter of time before one of us actually acknowledged it. As we wrapped up our brief conversation, I went to put my folder back in the file cabinet. Naturally, I had taken out one that was near the table where Angie sat, so I was standing only a couple feet from her as I opened the drawer. I was standing facing her and my attention was on the files in the drawer, giving her ample opportunity to check me out. I glanced up quickly and saw that she was doing just that. Her eyes were focused on my pants. She realized I was looking at her and her eyes flicked up to meet mine for an instant and then quickly went back to the work in front of her. I saw her cheeks get a bit red. I couldn't keep from smiling a little. I think she saw that too. I closed the file drawer and turned to leave. "Have a nice night," I said as I headed for the door. "Don't work too, uh... hard." I didn't look back to see her reaction. I'd know soon enough if my visit had had the desired effect. The next day, Friday, I purposely avoided going to the file room and didn't see Angie at all. I figured it was best to back off until the following week. I didn't want to appear eager. I wanted to make sure she wasn't expecting me to make the first move. Monday and Tuesday I avoided the file room too, although I did see Angie and say hi to her both days. Wednesday I made a stop in the back when she was there, but I was careful to keep it brief. I chatted with her and we made lots of eye contact, but I didn't linger. I suspected I was close, but I wasn't sure how close. That's one of the problems with playing coy little games like this. You never really know. Of course, that's also part of the fun too, so I guess I can't complain. The thrill of the chase can be almost as good as the payoff. It turns out I was a lot closer than I thought. Mid-morning on Thursday I got an inter-office envelope delivered to my desk. Inside was a folder from the file room. It was very similar to the ones I had pulled out and returned several times over the last few weeks. There was a yellow sticky note attached to it. "Please review and return to me this afternoon by 5:30," it read. It wasn't signed. I felt my pulse quicken a little, because I understood immediately. Angie wanted me to come to the file room this afternoon at 5:30. She was setting up an after-hours rendezvous. Was she really going to suck my cock today? I got hard just thinking about it. I went past her desk a couple times and looked for her at lunch, but I didn't see her. I re-read the note attached to the file several times that afternoon, and I was too distracted to get much work done. I kept visualizing Angie on her knees in the file room, her slender neck bending as her mouth bobbed up and down on my shaft. At that point I can honestly say I was just thinking about getting a blow job. I wasn't at all concerned with humbling or humiliating Angie for being the miserable bitch that she was. Yeah, there might still have been some element of that, but it was way in the background. It wasn't like she had ever been nasty to me. She was just another woman who wanted to give me head. All that changed around three o'clock. I was talking with another woman, Trish, who earned her place in this journal shortly after Angie did. More on that later. While she and I were talking, Angie walked by. She didn't say anything, but she definitely turned a hairy eyeball on Trish. Less than an hour after that, I heard through the grapevine that Trish had been called in by her supervisor and reprimanded. Now it's pretty rare for someone to get in trouble in the office just for shooting the breeze for a few minutes. Unless someone goes to your boss and complains about you, that is. I had no proof, of course, but naturally I assumed that Angie had been the one to get Trish in trouble. Now it wasn't just a blow job I wanted. Now I wanted to ram my cock down Angie's throat. I wanted to see her eyes bug out as I gagged her with my rod and hear her choke as I poured my load into her mouth. Okay, so I wouldn't actually do anything like that, but it was still a nice fantasy. In my anger I decided that if I didn't have it in me to be rough with her, at least I could dish out a little humiliation to the bitch. I'd need a little help though. I made a quick phone call and made the arrangements rather easily. I guess if people really don't like you, they're easily recruited to act against you. I hope I never piss people off as badly as Angie. Of course, I wasn't positive our rendezvous was still on. I assumed that Angie's issue was with Trish, not me and that whatever she had planned for this afternoon was still going to happen. But I really wasn't sure. I kept myself busy at my desk until almost 5:30. Then I made another phone call, picked up the folder and headed for the file room. The anticipation, or maybe it was the suspense, was building up in me. I couldn't wait to walk into there and see what would happen. At the same time, I was even more on edge about my plan and whether or not it would work. Well, I wasn't disappointed about Angie's end of the deal. Instead of sitting at the table where I expected to see her, she was kneeling on the floor in front of an open file drawer. She was leaning over it, letting her mammoth breasts hang down. I hadn't noticed earlier, but her blouse was fairly low cut, at least compared to what she usually wore. I caught a rare glimpse of her cleavage as I entered the room. She didn't look up right away and I wasn't really sure what to do next. The Collector 09 "I, uh, reviewed the, uh, file you sent and..." I thought it sounded pretty lame, but it wasn't like we ever really flirted. At least not verbally. "Oh, good," she said, barely looking up. "Could you put it back for me?" I looked at the label on the folder and then at the filing cabinets. The folder was from the top drawer of the cabinet next to where Angie was kneeling. I didn't think it was a coincidence. I felt something stirring in my pants as I walked to the drawer and tugged it open. "I'm not in your way, am I?" she asked, looking up at me from her knees. Her lips were less than two feet from where the blood was rushing into my cock, causing it to swell in my pants. "Uh, no, not at all," I answered as I hunted through the file drawer for the proper place to return the folder in my hand. It was taking longer than it should have because I couldn't concentrate with Angie kneeling there like that. "Are you sure?" she asked. "It seems like I am. Or like I'm about to be." "What do you mean?" I asked, knowing full well what she meant. I could feel my hard on straining against my pants now. "I notice you have that problem a lot. Maybe I could help you." On he one hand it was almost comical to hear Angie being sweet and, in her mind at least, seductive. On the other, it was looking more and more like she'd have my cock in her mouth some time in the next minute or two, so there was simply no way I wasn't going to get hard. "Help me?" I asked innocently. "How would you do that?" Angie looked up at me as she pushed the file drawer closed. "I think you know," she said. I noticed that she made no move to get up after she closed the drawer. I closed the drawer in front of me and turned to face her. Now Angie was directly in front of me, I needed only to take a short step toward her. I took a deep breath and looked down at her. She was still looking up at me, her eyes unwavering. If I was wrong, I was as good as fired. Sexual harassment would be a one-way ticket out the door. Of course, if I was right, I was going to get a blow job from the biggest bitch in the office and take bit of revenge in the process. I took the step. My fly was now inches from Angie's face, and still she looked up at me without moving. "Well?" she asked. I was too far in to back away now. And I was probably already over the line for proper office conduct anyway. I took another breath and unzipped my fly. Angie's eyes finally left mine and focused on my hand as I reached into my pants. Her expression was so expectant that I hesitated just to see her reaction. After a moment, she looked back up at me, puzzled. Maybe she thought I was changing my mind. Then I drew my stiff cock out and took my hand away. The head of it was mere inches from Angie's nose. She looked right at it with an unusual expression on her face. It was kind of strange and I was wondering if I hadn't made a huge mistake. Then I realized she was rubbing herself through her pants as she knelt in front of my rock hard shaft. I waited, hoping that she wanted more than just to look. "Oh, God," Angie moaned. Her lips parted and it seemed obvious that she wanted me in her mouth. But she didn't do anything. Not to me anyway. Her hand was still busy between her thighs though. A moment later I saw her body tremble and shake as she came. She didn't make any noise, but she closed her eyes and bent her head down as the tremors from her orgasm shook her. When her orgasm faded, she grabbed hold of my cock and quickly put her mouth down over me. It was rather sudden and she actually caught me by surprise. Yeah, that sounds ridiculous, but I was so busy watching her cum that I practically forgot why I was standing there with my cock out in the first place. I was dangerously close to cumming right away. I mean, there I was in the file room at work getting my cock sucked, right? That's exciting enough in its own right. And it was Angie, the office bitch herself, with my rod in her mouth. Not to mention my plan to humiliate her, which probably was the most erotic part of the whole thing, much as I hate to admit it. However, Angie's blow job technique was not that great and I managed to pull myself back from the brink. She was bobbing very quickly on me, but only taking in the first couple of inches. Now I like to have my whole shaft in a woman's mouth, so I was a bit disappointed that she didn't take me in deeper. She was also going too fast. It's not very sensual when a woman is bobbing on me like she's a sewing machine. She stayed at it like that for at least ten minutes, pausing every so often to catch her breath while she stroked me with her hand. While I admire a woman with a little endurance, it's a lot of energy wasted if she's not bringing me closer to cumming. While she was bobbing frenetically on me, I saw someone peeking in the doorway. I looked down and saw Angie's eyes were closed. I looked back up at my accomplice in the hallway and gestured with my head to come inside. Trish stepped gingerly through the door and peered around the edge of the file cabinets. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, but it didn't hide the huge smile on her face. She held up her other hand, revealing a camera. I nodded briefly and let a little smile cross my face. Angie continued jack hammering her mouth up and down on the end of my cock, unaware of Trish's presence. All I had told Trish was that if she wanted to get even with Angie, she should sneak back to the file room around 5:45. I also suggested she might want to bring a camera. So Trish didn't know for sure what I was up to, but I'm sure she must have at least suspected. She was well aware of the rumors concerning Angie and the guy she had been caught blowing in the parking lot and the times they had been seen leaving the file room together. I doubt Trish was actually expecting to catch Angie in the act, but she had to be thinking about it. One of the best parts of the whole blow job was having Trish there watching. I had been flirting with her for some time and I was definitely hoping to get her to give me head. Now she was standing a dozen feet away watching me get my cock sucked. It was weird--I'm not use to having an audience. But it was also very erotic. I held up a finger to indicate she should wait. I knew the flash on the camera would probably give us away, and I didn't want to ruin the chance to cum in this bitch's mouth. Trish seemed to understand. She crept part way into the room, careful to stay well out of Angie's peripheral vision, not that Angie's eyes were open. She watched Angie sucking me and kept breaking into silent laughter. She held the camera ready and waited. I started running my fingers through Angie's short hair and along her neck. I wanted to have my hands ready for the final part of my plan. gently caressed and massaged her as she continued to bob away on me. As I said, her cock sucking skills weren't very good and she probably would have run out of steam before she got me off if it was solely up to her. But fortunately it wasn't. I looked over at Trish and felt a warm tingle through my loins. She might be laughing and waiting with a camera, but she was watching me get my cock sucked. That was really making me hot. I looked right at her as Angie sucked away on me. Angie might have been the woman with my shaft in her mouth, but it was Trish I was thinking about. Trish's eyes shifted back and forth between my eyes and Angie's bobbing head. It was as big a turn on as anything I ever experienced and it took only a couple more minutes for me to pop my top. As I felt myself start to cum, I nodded to Trish. Then I grabbed Angie by the back of the head and pulled her mouth down over me just as I exploded. The flash of the camera went off at the same moment. I held Angie there, her mouth impaled on my cock, as I emptied my balls down her throat. She started to cough and gag and I guess that why she didn't react to the camera flash. Trish snapped three more shots of Angie choking on my cock before Angie's eyes opened wide in sudden realization. I jerked my head toward the door and Trish darted from the room before Angie saw her. I looked down at Angie as I let go of the back of her head. She pulled quickly away from me, coughing and retching as my sperm ran out of her mouth, down her chin and on to the floor. She was on all fours, gasping for air as I stepped back up to her, stooped down and wiped my oozing cock on the side of her head, leaving a trail of cum through her hair and across her cheek. "What the fuck was that, you bastard?" she hissed at me, still trying to catch her breath. I didn't answer. I just zipped up and left her there, kneeling on the floor with my cum all over her face. I don't know if her question was referring to my rough treatment of her or the camera flashes. I assumed she saw the flashes and realized what they were, but I'm not positive. Either way, it's safe to assume that I had burned that bridge pretty thoroughly. I spent the next week or two sweating bullets, worried that Angie was going to get me fired or worse. Maybe allege that I had attacked her or something. But nothing happened, except that she stopped talking to me and I stopped going back to the file room. I found out later that Trish had left a disk with copies of the pictures on Angie's desk. No note, no explanation. Just four digital images of Angie with my cock in her mouth. So if I was a bit on edge for a couple weeks, it was probably even worse for Angie. Trish, of course, emailed me copies. We had some good laughs over it and she wound up giving me a blow job not long after the file room incident. I probably would have gotten there eventually with Trish, but things went much quicker once we had Angie's cock sucking to critique. I'll write all about that in a separate entry. Anyway, back to Angie. I don't really have a rating for her. It wasn't a blow job in any normal context and I wasn't there just to enjoy her lips on my member. She wasn't that good anyway, and probably wouldn't even have made it into the journal. (I don't bother writing about women who score a six or lower... no one wants to hear about those and I don't need to remember them.) I am a little embarrassed about how turned on I got when I shoved my cock deep into her mouth just as I came. That's not like me. I've always said I don't want a woman to do anything for me that she doesn't do freely and because she wants to. Clearly, I violated that rule when I forced her to gag on my cock and my cum. And I liked it. I hope it was only because she was a bitch and not because of anything sadistic in my own nature. The pictures were probably a little sick too, but again I have to admit, I still get turned on looking at them. There's one in particular where you can really tell she's gagging and it looks like there's even some cum dripping from her lip. Yeah, there's a lot wrong with what I did and how I did it with Angie. And I should feel a lot worse than I do. But she's still the same miserable bitch she always was. The difference now is that when I hear her giving someone shit, I can think about how I gagged her with my shaft and shot my cum down her throat.