0 comments/ 15385 views/ 0 favorites The Collector By: Erotic_Angel She moves down the street with a cat-like grace, each movement precise, measured, but so fluid, such grace in her stride. Her hair flowed down over her shoulders in shimmering waves of shadow, the color so dark the highlights were almost blue, framing her delicate features in luminescent darkness. Her lips were ruby red, and full, lush, plump, a perfect sensual angel's bow, her eyes were the color of sapphires, such a deep blue it almost took one's breath to look into them. Her body was perfect, lush full curves made up her form, her breasts ripe and firm, her waist tapered, flowing to rounded hips that rocks in graceful counterpoint to her slender shoulders as she walks, and her legs, sleek and toned, flexing lightly with each stride. "Perfect." He whispered to himself as he watched her from the shadows across the way, his glittering dark eyes taking in every motion she made as he had for nights now. He was a collector or rare and beautiful things; indeed, things of beauty had the ability to almost mesmerize him. He had been known to simply stand and stare at a piece for hours, taking in flowing lines, use of color, everything about the piece which made it stand out. She was no different, and he knew he would have her. Tonight, he would take her, make her a part of his vast collection, and he slipped through the shadows with a preternatural ease, his form flowing as though a part of the darkness. Waiting until she rounded a corner, he stepped out, so quickly, and so fast, she had no time to react or avoid the collision, which became eminent. Her firm body collided with his, causing her to stumble back a few steps, almost loosing her balance and giving him the opportunity to have contact, his arm snaking out quickly, wrapping about her in a strong grip and steadying her as his dark eyes sought and held her blue ones, his voice came flowing forth in a ripple of sensual, dark tones. "Forgive me, I did not see you coming. Of course, if I had, I might have allowed this to happen anyway." A charming smile moving over his lips as he held her gaze, feeling her soft form in his arms. She stared up at him, startled at not only the bump, but at the feel of his arm as it coiled about her trim waist and she looked up at him, her lips parting for some sort of retort, but the words never came forth. Her eyes locked with his, and a heat flooded her body unlike any she had ever known, and she simply stared up at him, captivated. His face was ruggedly handsome, classic features, blending together to create the ultimate man, and his eyes were so dark, yet seemed to hold such power, and she felt herself drawn into them, finally uttering softly. "It's all right, entirely my fault, Sir." "Allow me to make it up to you, yes?" His voice seemed to penetrate her very soul, and she nodded mutely, her gaze never leaving his as he spoke. Taking her arm, he began to lead her from her destination, towards one of his own choosing. Walking in silence, he allowed his presence to flow over her in a constant caress, knowing how it effected mortals, knowing she would offer no complaint, nor trouble. Her strides matched his own, her arm locked in his, the contact only making the feeling stronger, and when he led her up the walkway to the ancient house, and through the doors, she never said a word, merely went along with him willingly. Once inside, he removed her small wrap, his gaze moving over her body in a soft caress, taking in each line and curve of this beautiful creature that was now his. She stood, trembling softly as he touched her, his gaze making her feel as though she stood naked before him, and she felt her nipples harden under the dress, felt a soft heat build between her sleek thighs as she locked her eyes once more with his. He held out one hand to her, and she slipped her small one into his grasp without hesitation. Tugging her gently, he drew her into his arms, almost crushing her to his rock hard body, one hand rising to rake through her hair as his voice filled her mind. "So beautiful, such perfection." His voice purred out deeply as he let his hand move from her hair down over her shoulder, tracing her side gently. His touch made her tremble harder, and he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her up the wide staircase and into one of the bedrooms upstairs. Setting her lightly on her feet, he sat in one of the large chairs, his voice once more ringing through her mind in a sensual wave of heat. "Undress for me, Beauty, let me see what is now mine." Her hands moved as though they had a mind of their own, taking hold of the zipped which ran down the back of the tight dress, she pulled it down, opening the material and shrugging it from her shoulders to pool at her feet, leaving her in only her black panties and bra, her body move lovely than he had first thought. His voice again moving through her, each contact taking more of her control from her, making her will submit to his own. "Those as well, I wish to see all of you." Her hands once more moving, she opened the clasp of the bra and let it fall to the floor as though in a dream, before hooking her fingers into her panties and snugging them down over her rounded hips, leaving her naked, her large breasts, tipped with hard nipples in his view, and he moved his gaze down, taking in the almost bald little sex between her thighs, a smile of utter delight curving his lips as he motioned her closer to him. She walked slowly to him, her mind swimming. Why was she doing this?? All her life she had been in control, she knew how good she looked and knew how to use it, men were crawling to get her attention, but this man, all he had to do was crook his finger, and she would have gladly crawled across the floor to him. She stopped before him, and he took a hold of her wrist, gently tugging her down into his lap and settling her back so she lay across him, her breasts thrust up towards the ceiling as her head drifted back over one arm of the chair, her knees crooked over the other arm, her toned, heart-shaped ass nestled into his lap. His hands began to play over her body like a musician, playing the most wondrous of instruments. Stroking, touching, pinching lightly, tracing over each line and curve of her body and she writhed softly, gentle moans escaping from her parted lips as his hands formed raging fires inside her body. He growled in growing pleasure as his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing gently, teasing the nipples until they were hard in his grasp before lowering his head, claiming one in his mouth, the feel of his cool tongue making her gasp and arch harder in his lap. Sucking hard, biting gently, he tortured the sweet bud before rolling her gently upwards to claim the other, his mouth working over the nipple heatedly, her cries only urging him on as he tasted her sweet flesh. His hand driving down now, he had to feel her, had to sink his fingers into the soft pink folds of that glistening bald pussy, the flesh so succulent. His fingers entered her with no trouble, she was so wet, so ready and willing, and her moans deepened as he began to thrust inside her wet slit. His fangs descending, he bit softly into the flesh of her breast as he fingered his prize, drinking in a heated bliss as she screamed out, cumming over his fingers as a pleasure she had never known filled her at his dark kiss. Her nerves on fire, her hips bucking madly and he snarled around the soft flesh, licking the wounds closed gently before he rose, picking her naked and trembling form with him. Placing her on the bed, he stripped, his hand slipping back into her hair and guiding those lush lips to his cock slowly, a growl erupting from him as he felt the first strokes of her tongue over the silk shaft. Her lips parted wider and she sucked him down deeply, a hunger in her actions now, his eyes locked on her full lips as they stretched around the girth of his raging cock, the sight only inflaming him more and his fingers tightened in her hair, thrusting her head down over him as he began to fuck her mouth, moans erupting from his throat, joined by hers as she bobbed her head lustily over him, devouring his cock again and again. Grabbing her once more, his beast raging inside him, he threw her onto the bed, tossing her over onto her belly and lifting her hips so her sweet ass was in the air, his hands locked about her hips as he pulled her back towards him slowly, his cock like a heat seeker, throbbing as he pressed it to her wet entrance, finally thrusting into the tight, wet pussy with a savage glee, roaring in pleasure as he felt her tight walls clamp down around his cock tightly, her cries ringing out as he stretched her wide. He pumped his hips swiftly, taking her fully now, needing to feel himself buried in this beautiful prize he now owned. Looking down, he sucked at his own finger, slowly sliding it into the tight star of her ass, thrusting slowly to match the rhythm of his cock in her pussy, the sight of her being filled in both places making him cum, and he threw back his head and roared to the sky, the sound shaking the windows as his bloody seed filled her hot pussy, the girl crying out loudly in unison, collapsing forward onto the bed in a faint of ecstasy. He reached down, scooping her up in his arms and sat, placing her in his lap, purring deeply as he stroked her willing flesh, which was held tightly to him now. "Not yet, Beauty, one more thing, and you will be mine for eternity." Leaning in, his fangs once more appeared and he tugged her head back, exposing her tender throat, the needle sharp teeth puncturing the flesh, her cry a soft moan as she shuddered against him, the dark kiss making another wash of her heated cum slip from her sweet sex to drip down her thighs to his. He drank slowly, not wishing to drain her, he did not wish another vampire like himself, he wished a ghoul, a lovely playtoy he could use for eternity. Gently withdrawing, he licked the wounds closed, the bit down on his lip, the blood welling into the wound before he kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth, forcing his blood down her throat in a wave of fire as she drank from him. Breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes, and saw the subservience there, the absolute need to be his in all ways, and he chuckled, holding her to him, and stroking her hair gently. He curled against his chest, coo'ing softly as her hands played over the broad expanse. He laid her back on the bed, wrapping her in his strong form; her naked body trembling in need once more and he smiled to himself. He had all eternity now with this prize, and there was so much he could do with her. He kissed her slowly as he felt his cock begin to stir once more, the night just begun for them, her cries rang through the darkness for hours, and when the sun finally rose, the bedroom was empty, the sheets tumbled and covered in spent passion, the couple locked safely from the days light, awaiting another evening of intense passion. The Collector 10 Wow, it looks like I've made it to the tenth entry in my blow job journal. Since that's sort of a milestone, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone for all the positive feedback I've gotten about my journal. Especially from the ladies. Not that I don't appreciate hearing from you, guys. I'm just not particularly shocked to find you're enthusiastic about blow job stories. But I have been pleasantly surprised to get such a favorable responses from women as well. It's thanks to all of you that I'm still at it. It's much more fun to write when I know people are reading and appreciating it. Thank you. AM * Since a few people have been asking about Connie, and since the blow job she gave me was a ten (hope I didn't give away the ending!), I figured that she would be ideal for my tenth entry. Tenth entry--perfect ten... you get the point. Anyway... Connie and I didn't see each other for several months after the night her sister, Holly, sucked my cock. Connie went to stay with Holly for much of that time. Holly lived a few hours away, which was one of the biggest reasons for the delay in our hooking up. The other thing that kept things from happening was Connie's husband. They talked about getting back together at least once or twice in that time and, naturally, I didn't want to interfere. So we went back to being email flirts. We exchanged emails fairly often and, since it seemed to be understood that it was only a matter of time before Connie would take her turn on her knees in front of me, we talked about blow jobs at least half of the time. Sometimes I'd tell her what a great sucking her sister had given me and that I didn't think there was any way she could top it. Especially since Holly swallowed. Connie was good at that game too, telling me just how she planned to top her sister's performance. I won't go into too much detail about that, since she did most of what she said and I'm going to write all about what she did. But I should give a few examples, since they were more than a little provocative. "I can't wait to drop to my knees," she wrote in one email, "unzip your fly and let your cock fall out into my mouth. Then I'll suck you hard and shove your thick cock down my throat. I want you to stretch my lips and mouth as I take you in as deep as I can." In another email, she wrote, "You have no idea how hard I can make your cock with my mouth. I'm going to have you begging to cum in my mouth, but I'm going to spend a long time sucking and teasing you first. By the time you cum your cock will be so swollen and aching you will beg me to finish you off." In yet another, "I don't care how good Holly sucked your cock--I will suck it better. I'm going to give you the best blow job you've ever had in your life and when I'm done, you'll be wishing I would suck your cock every day. Every blow job you get after me will be a disappointment." And still another, "I love to suck cock and to please a man with my mouth. When you finally shoot your load in my mouth, you'll know I'm the best cock sucker you're ever going to find." I should point out that these are only excepts. Sometimes she would write a couple of paragraphs about what she was going to do and how she'd do it and how much I would like it. Needless to say, I was usually hard as a rock by the time I finished reading her emails. In my emails to her I generally dropped not-so-subtle hints about things that I like a woman to do when she's giving me head. I usually did that by telling her how I really liked something her sister did. But only if it was something her sister actually did, of course. I was pretty sure Connie and Holly had discussed that night, possibly in detail, so I didn't bother trying to bullshit her. But swallowing my cum was something that Holly had done that Connie said she didn't do, so I mentioned that quite often. I didn't know if I could actually change her mind about it, but it was worth a try. There were other things I like that were not part of Holly's blow job, like how a woman is dressed. I told Connie that I was partial to short, tight dresses, high heels and sexy elegance. Connie had made it clear she was a jeans-and-tee-shirt kind of woman, and I wondered if she even owned anything like I was describing, but I thought I'd throw it out there anyway. So that's how we went back and forth for quite a while. It was really hot at the beginning, but, like before, as time went on, our enthusiasm for emailing each other about it tapered off. Let's face it, no matter how exciting it is to have a woman tell me how much she wants to suck my cock and how great a cock sucker she is, it's still only email. As the teasing subsided, I started asking her things I was curious about. Connie had told me on many occasions that she loved to suck cock, so I asked her what, exactly, did she love about it. I had to ask several times to get a full answer, and in the end I'm not sure Connie really knew for sure. Connie definitely got wet just thinking about sucking cock and she had almost cum a few times while giving head. She loved to feel a man's hands in her hair and she also loved hearing a man moan. She got the most turned on when she was on her knees and the man was standing, preferably with both of them fully clothed (you know I was glad to hear that!). And she always wanted to make a man cum when she sucked him. I had to ask more questions about that last one. After all, didn't she like to stimulate her partner and then have sex? Nope... She liked intercourse just fine, but once she started giving head, she didn't want to stop until she made her man cum. I'm no psychologist, and I'm not going to guess what, if anything, that means, but she clearly enjoyed having the power to bring a man to orgasm. Preferably with her panties still on. "So you like it when a man cums in your mouth?" I asked her in another email. "Love it!" was her reply. Naturally, I asked her what she loved about it. Turns out it wasn't the taste, which she didn't like at all. That didn't surprise me, since I've never had a woman tell me she actually likes the way sperm tastes. But I questioned why Connie wanted a man to cum in her mouth when the taste was unpleasant. Wouldn't she rather suck for a while and then have sex, eliminating the whole bad taste issue? Nope. And Connie was adamant about it. She got almost as much of a thrill out of a man cumming in her mouth as the man did. Naturally, I found that a little hard to believe. I mean, I know how good it feels when a woman skillfully coaxes a load from me with her mouth and it's very unlikely that she's getting as much pleasure out of it as I am. Connie insisted that, while it might not be as orgasmically good for her, she was getting what she needed from the experience. "I don't know how to explain it," she wrote. "But I can feel it when a guy is about to cum. His cock gets even harder and I know in another second I'm gonna get a mouthful. That instant is one of the hottest things I can think of. I get wet just thinking about it." The best part about discussing head with Connie was how she talked so matter-of-factly about it. She didn't use coy code words. When she talked about sucking cock, she said she sucked cock. When I asked her specific questions, she did her best to answer them. It was really cool. The only down side was, I'd get turned on by our conversations and know that she wasn't going to be around to do anything about it any time soon. I got a pleasant surprise one Wednesday afternoon when I got an email from Connie asking what I was doing that Friday night. Well, I did have something lined up, but I quickly rescheduled. Even if that date had been a sure thing, and it wasn't, I would have bailed on it for Connie. A guy can only take so much build up and Connie had been building this up way too long. When I replied to her, I joked that she should be nervous about trying to live up to my expectations. "Nah, I'm sure you won't be disappointed," Connie replied in her typically confident way. "Because I'm going to give you the best cock sucking of your life!" Like I said, I would have postponed any date, no matter how much of a sure thing, for a woman who makes a claim like that. We made plans for Connie to come straight to my apartment Friday night. I offered to take her out to dinner, but she declined. "The only thing I want you to feed me is that cock of yours," she emailed in response to my dinner invitation. "Holly told me it was delicious! I can't wait to taste it for myself!" Well, I certainly can't complain about a woman who wants to get right down to business. Especially one who makes claims like Connie does about how good she is. By lunchtime on Friday, I couldn't think of anything but her, coming over and giving me what I expected to be some truly fantastic head. Needless to say, I didn't get a lot of work done that afternoon. Friday night I was trying to relax and take it easy. I didn't want to be too wound up for Connie's visit. But there was no getting around the electricity I felt. I tried to just plop down on the couch and watch some TV, but I kept getting up and walking around. Every once in a while I'd think that Connie would be showing up soon. That she'd be kneeling on the floor right here as I took my cock out and gave it to her to suck. I got hard several times before she actually showed up. When she finally did show up, I felt my cock stiffen in my pants even as I opened the door to let her in. Connie looked even better than she had the last time I had seen her. Her hair was teased up like before, but it wasn't the 80's party girl look. It was a little more reserved and it made her look more elegant. She was wearing a long leather jacket that enhanced the effect. She was also, I noticed, wearing heels. I knew Connie was a jeans and tee-shirt type and generally didn't feel comfortable dressing up. But here she was wearing heels (not very high heels, but heels none the less) and a very sleek leather jacket. I invited her inside, gave her a kiss and took her jacket. Under the jacket Connie was wearing a silk blouse and navy blue slacks that hugged her hips and ass in a way that drove me crazy. The combination of the heels and the slacks made her ass look so good I could hardly stand it. I wanted to grab her, bend her over and take her from behind right then and there. Of course, that wasn't the reason she had come over. And the thought of her kneeling down in those lovely slacks was every bit as appealing. I asked if I could get her something to drink, but she shook her head. "No, I think we'll stay away from the alcohol this time," Connie's smile was incredible and I found myself staring at her lips. A minute later we were standing in the middle of my living room making out. Our lips and tongues quickly intertwined as our hands moved over each other's bodies. I wasted no time running my hands over that wonderfully rounded ass of Connie's. The smooth material of her slacks was so inviting, drawing my caresses like a magnet. Connie's own fingers started by running through my hair, then along my neck and then down my back. When she reached my belt, her hands ran along it to the front of my pants. She had no trouble finding my throbbing member through the fabric. She rubbed me through my pants as we continued to kiss passionately. My hands had strayed from Connie's ass and I was alternately running them up her back and along the sides of her breasts. She was breathing heavily as her hand continued to rub my straining erection. A few moments later, she wriggled from my arms and looked up at me with a smile. "Ready for what you've been waiting for all this time?" she asked. Again I noticed the graceful, crisp lines of her slacks and the way they showed off Connie's delicious body. My eyes followed those lines up to where the inseams came together and I wondered if she was getting wet there yet. "Whoa, maybe we shouldn't rush," I replied. "I don't want to pop my top too soon." I didn't know if I was really that close or not, but Connie already had me really turned on. If she was half as good as she said, I'd be done in five minutes. "Don't worry," she said, her smile spreading wider. "If it doesn't last long enough for me, I'll just have to suck you again." There was a sparkle in her eyes that perfectly complimented her dazzling smile. She clearly enjoyed hearing that she had me so turned on already that I was worried about cumming too quickly. She stepped back up to me, pressing her body against mine as she gave me a deep kiss. Then she kissed my neck and the side of my face, working her way over to my ear. "I'm going to get on my knees now," Connie whispered into my ear, so softly I could hardly hear her over my own breathing. She kissed her way down my body as she lowered herself to her knees. A moment later she was kissing my cock through my pants. I could feel the warmth of her breath through the fabric and it made me throb. "Take it out," Connie instructed as she rubbed her face against the bulge in my pants. "Take it out and put it in my mouth." I had to take a deep breath and will myself not to hurry. My hands wanted to race to my zipper and do as she instructed. They were nearly shaking with anticipation. The deep breath steadied me and I got myself back under control. Very deliberately, I took the zipper between my thumb and forefinger and stood there for a moment, looking down at Connie. She looked up from her knees and smiled. She obviously knew I was trying to toy with her. She also knew that in any such game she had the upper hand. So she let me have my fun, even played up to me, knowing that she would have hers as well. "Oh, please," Connie pleaded mockingly. "Do I have to beg for it?" Her smile grew until it was almost a silent laugh. "I think I'll be the one begging before you're done with me," I replied. I meant it as a joke, but I was thinking it might turn out to be the truth. I slowly pulled my zipper down. When it was all the way down, I paused again. Connie and I locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. She had incredible eyes and it seemed impossible to look away. "Well?" she asked finally, breaking the spell. I reached a hand into my pants and pulled my cock out. It sprang from my pants hard as a rock, pointing right at Connie. She quickly wrapped her hand around the base of it and stroked upward. A glistening bead of precum rewarded her effort. "Mmmmm... maybe you are too close," she said with her impish grin. She licked away the precum and made an exaggerated showing of inspecting me. "Holly was right about you. You've got a gorgeous cock." She shifted me in her hand to look at my member from all angles. She nodded appreciatively. "Yep, she was right." As Connie said that, she opened her mouth and leaned forward until the head of my cock was an inch or so away. She paused there, looking up at me. This was her response to my teasing her a moment ago. The look on her face said, "I know how to play games too... probably better than you!" I looked down at her, her incredible body kneeling in front of me, her mouth opened and poised to swallow my shaft. A low moan escaped me as my cock throbbed. Yes, she definitely had the upper hand. Connie, mercifully, didn't torment me too long. A twinkle in her eye and a slight curling of her lips said she had teased me long enough. Then she closed her eyes and lowered her mouth over my cock. She kept her mouth opened wide though, so her lips barely touched me. All I felt was her hot breath as she slowly surrounded me. When her lips finally closed on me, the sudden warm wetness sent a shudder through my whole body. More than half of my length was instantly electrified as I felt her mouth on me for the first time. After months of waiting and building of anticipation, I looked down and finally saw my cock in Connie's mouth. It was a hell of a first moment too. My knees were feeling a little weak as she slowly dragged her lips up my shaft until only the head was still between them. Connie's mouth opened again and she took me in again, a little faster this time but still not touching me on the way down. Her mouth closed on me again as she sucked her way back up my rod. She did this a couple more times, each time feeling better than the last. My cock was so hard it ached and I wanted so badly just to cum and release all that built-up pressure. But Connie was intent on toying with me and was taking her time about it. Once she had turned my shaft to granite with a few sensual sucks, Connie let me fall out of her mouth and ran her tongue all over me. When she got down to the base of my shaft, she forced her tongue into my pants to lick my balls. She lapped them gently as my cock lay across her cheek, sending shivers through me again. I've said it before that it takes a special touch on a woman's part to lick balls properly. They're soft and can shift around at the slightest pressure and they're very sensitive. Overdoing it can be unpleasant or even painful for a guy. Fortunately, Connie was good at lapping slowly and carefully, letting the heat and wetness of her tongue do all the work. When her tongue found its way to the base of my sac, I thought I was going to lose it. The woman knew what to do with her tongue when it came to licking a man's balls. Then she pulled back, running her tongue up the underside of my cock and leaving a trail of her saliva along my swollen vein. When she reached the head, Connie took it into her mouth and plunged down on my shaft. This time her lips were wrapped tightly on me, pushing the skin of my cock back as she took most of me in. She bobbed on me, giving me a good, tight-lipped sucking for a few moments before settling back on her heels smiling. "I'm going to do something special for you tonight," Connie said, as she slowly stroked me with her hand. "Know what it is?" Honestly, I thought she was already doing something special and I wasn't really up to concentrating at that moment anyway. I was too busy looking at her smile to think about her question. That's something that really gets me going: when a woman smiles a lot while sucking my cock. I mean, it's one thing to have a woman say she loves to give head. Maybe she's telling the truth or maybe she's telling you what you want to hear. But a woman who is smiling the whole time--when her lips aren't otherwise busy, that is--is a woman who definitely gets into it. And for me, one of the best parts is knowing that a woman wants my cock in her mouth; that she's genuinely enjoying sucking it. The smile on Connie's face left no doubt in my mind that she was a woman who truly loved to suck cock. "Do you?" Connie asked again, stirring me from my admiration of her smile. I shook my head. It would have been easy to guess, I realized after she told me. But, like I said, I wasn't really into doing much thinking at that particular moment. "I'm going," Connie said, leaning forward and sucking me gently for a moment, "to swallow." It took my brain a moment to realize what she was saying. When I finally get it, I looked down at her, eyebrows arched in surprise. "I thought you didn't," I said. "I don't. But tonight I will." Connie gave me a wink. "I can't let Holly have anything on me now, can I?" She sucked on me again for a moment, gently and only part way down my shaft. "Does that turn you on?" "Yes," I breathed. In all honesty, she had been making me feel so good that it wasn't on my mind just then. But once she said it, I couldn't help thinking about it: that when this blow job was over, my cum would be in Connie's stomach. I really didn't need any extra stimulation. Connie was already doing a great job on me with her mouth. I took another deep breath to steady myself. Connie's mouth closed over my cock again and she bobbed with an unhurried rhythm on my throbbing shaft. She went slowly enough that I wasn't in too much danger of cumming, but fast and deep enough to keep me pretty close to it. It was wonderfully sensual, watching and feeling her lips glide easily up and down my cock. She turned her head slightly from side to side as she sucked, letting her tongue caress the full underside of my cock. The Collector 10 A few times she paused at the bottom of her stroke and struggled to get more of me into her mouth. She was taking in about three-quarters of my length as she bobbed, but on these occasions she would force herself down almost to the hilt. I could feel the head of my cock pressed against the back of her throat as she crammed me into her mouth. It felt good being that deep in her mouth, and it was exciting too, knowing she was taking in every bit of me she could. Connie went on like that, steadily sucking and occasionally impaling herself on me. It wasn't easy for me to hold back, but fortunately she didn't try too hard to get me off right away. I'm sure if she wanted to, she could have. It felt so good I could hardly look at Connie and the way she knelt in front of me without erupting. In perfect cock-sucking form she was kneeling with her knees together and her feet, clad in heels, pointing out straight behind her. Once when I looked down she had both of her hands on her thighs, using only her mouth to hold my cock. It was an inspiring sight. Connie didn't leave her hands on her thighs for very long though. I felt her fingers caressing my balls at times. Other times I felt her hands running up the fronts and backs of my thighs, reaching up under my shirt to rub my stomach and chest. When she finally settled in and started sucking me to get me off, her hands were wrapped around the cheeks of my ass, as if she were afraid I'd back away from her. Once Connie turned up the intensity, I was as good as done. Her deep sensual sucking had practically wrenched my insides loose already. When she started going even faster, there was no holding back. She paused for one instant to tell me to cum in her mouth, that she was going to swallow my load, before bobbing the last half dozen times that put me over the top. As I felt myself approaching the point of no return, the muscles in my thighs tightened and my back arched, pushing my cock further into Connie's mouth. Connie didn't slow down or hesitate as my shaft hardened and swelled to the bursting point. Her lips continued their velvety-smooth caressing of my member even as my balls tightened and then unloaded. I groaned and shuddered as the first massive gob of cum surged from my cock into her mouth. Connie dutifully kept sucking, drawing two more good sized spurts of cum from me. She sucked a moment longer before taking me out of her mouth and looking down at the floor. I knew she was trying to swallow my load. I could see her shoulders tense with the effort before she got it down. Then she took me back into her warm mouth and gently sucked me a little longer. I'm very sensitive after I cum, but Connie's touch was smooth and unhurried. If there was anything left in me, she would have gotten it out with her sensual sucking. "Not bad for a starter," Connie said with a smile and planted a kiss on the head of my cock. She seemed in no hurry to get up from her knees or let go of my spent member. "A starter?" I asked, hoping she meant what I hoped she meant. "I'm not done yet," she replied. "That was just a warm-up. A little something to take the edge off. The best blow job of your life is yet to come." We talked and joked around for a little while to give me time to recuperate. I told Connie that she and Holly were neck-and-neck and it would all come down to how well she did this next time. She laughed and replied that she'd bet I would pick her over Holly already and she still hadn't given me her best. Now, I have to say, at that moment Connie really hadn't given me a better blow job than her sister had. There had been so much build-up and anticipation to Connie giving me head that even a very mediocre effort would have easily gotten me off. Also, Connie did a lot of things to enhance the experience that had nothing to do with her cock sucking skills. She dressed nicely. She knelt perfectly. She smiled while giving me head. She told me beforehand that she was going to swallow my cum. All of these things combined to make the whole experience very hot. And because it was so hot, Connie didn't need any exotic techniques to make it a great blow job. I see too many women ignore or underestimate these indirect ways to intensify the experience. On several occasions I've had women put too much effort into the act itself and neglect how important it is to make the whole thing sexy and erotic. Yes, being in a woman's mouth is naturally a very erotic and exciting thing. But by itself it isn't nearly as good as it could be. A woman who knows how to build up a man's anticipation and get him stimulated even before she unzips his fly will tend to do better than a woman who doesn't, no matter how good she is at the actual sucking. Desire is another huge part of the picture. It's very obvious when a woman really wants to give head. It's also obvious when she isn't that enthusiastic about it. There is nothing quite like knowing a woman is excited to have you in her mouth. On the flip side of that, it can be quite a disappointment when a woman is reluctant or just doing it because she thinks she has to or is supposed to. When a woman who truly desires to pleasure a man with her mouth, a man can tell and it's very stimulating. One of the benefits of a woman who really wants to is that she's more likely to pay attention to all of the peripheral details that go into making a blow job something special. Connie certainly seemed to understand all of this. Even as we sat on the couch and talked, she was making comments about how she was going to suck me again, swallow my load again and generally give me the sucking of a lifetime. She had drained me dry minutes ago and already she was getting me turned on again. Her desire showed clearly in the smile on her face and the playful way she talked about it. Her body language, the sexy way she tilted her head or touched my leg, also contributed. There was no doubt in my mind that Connie was very much looking forward to sucking me off again. While we talked and laughed, Connie occasionally ran her hand down to cup my crotch and rub me a little. It wasn't long before I was about three-quarters erect again. That was apparently good enough for her. Connie had me take of my pants and sit on the sofa. "Trust me, you're going to need to sit for this," she said with a wink when I objected. A minute later, Connie was kneeling between my legs as I sat on the sofa. She ran her hands up the insides of my thighs until she cupped my shaft and balls between them. She came forward and ran her tongue over my balls and kissed my stiffening rod. "I want you to get hard in my mouth," she said, and sat back on her heels. I didn't understand at first, but then I realized that she was going to wait for my erection to fade. We just sat there staring at each other with foolish grins on our faces for a minute, but I didn't get much softer. Somehow I didn't think I was going to go limp with a beauty like Connie on her knees in front of me. "It's too late," I said finally. "You've already got me going." With a shrug, Connie leaned forward and sucked me all the way into her mouth in one smooth stroke. If I wasn't completely hard before that, I was when she did that. Getting hard again so soon after cumming made my cock really ache with each throb. And with Connie's mouth on me, I was throbbing a lot. She sucked me steadily as she had before for several minutes. By the time she paused, the aching was gone and my erection was once again straining for release. Connie took me from her mouth and stroked me ever so slightly with her hand as she ran her tongue up the inside of my left thigh, then of my right. Her tongue worked its way under my balls to the sensitive area between my scrotum and anus. She tickled me there with the tip of her tongue before lapping her way back to the top of my shaft. "Mmmmmm..." she breathed as she clamped her mouth down over my rigid cock again. "Mmmmmmmmm...." She was face down in my lap, holding her shoulders steady as her neck bent to lower her mouth over me again and again. For a guy who had just cum, I was surprised how easy it would have been to cum again so quickly. Not that I was going to, but Connie got me close enough that I could have let go if I wanted to. Connie bobbed sensually on me, her silky lips pushing the skin of my cock back and forth with each stroke. She paused often to lick my balls or run her tongue around the rim of my cock head. She gently put her teeth to my head too, squeezing just hard enough to send a thrill racing up my spine. Her hands stayed busy as she sucked too. I can't explain how incredible it felt to have her fingertips grazing lightly across my balls as she sucked me. If it wasn't the second blow job of the night, I probably would have cum right then. Her touch on my balls was perfect. My hips jerked up reflexively, shoving my cock momentarily deeper into her mouth. Occasionally Connie would pause to say something, as if I wasn't turned on enough. "Mmmmm, Holly was so right about your cock." "Oh, I love sucking a cock like yours." "Oh, I love the way you feel against the back of my throat." "I can't wait to taste your cum again." Sometimes she looked up at me as she said these things, other times she would murmur them close to my cock, letting her lips brush me as she spoke. I wondered if she was saying these things for my benefit or for her own. She seemed to get more into it every time she said something. I don't usually talk to a woman when she's sucking me, but I definitely sensed that Connie wanted me to. "God, that feels great," I told her. "You really know how to suck a cock." "MMMMMMM...." she moaned around my shaft, clearly reveling in my words. "Yeah, take me all the way in. I want to feel the back of your throat." Connie moaned and sucked me all the more deeply each time I said something. I wanted to say more, but in all honesty, I was having trouble concentrating. She really was driving me crazy and I almost wanted to cum just to end the agony. After almost twenty minutes of this, I thought my head would explode. Connie had brought me close to cumming more than once, but had deliberately not finished the job. A couple of those times she had looked up at me knowingly and smiled as she gave me a lick here and there, waiting for me to pull back so she could continue. When Connie took me firmly in her hand and began rubbing her thumb in circles on the vein of my cock as she sucked, I knew it was almost over. The combination of her incredible mouth on the top half of my cock and the deep rubbing of her thumb at the base quickly brought me to the boiling point. A couple minutes later, my butt came up off the sofa as my back arched and my cock throbbed. I groaned as I squirted my second load of the evening into Connie's mouth. Once again Connie swallowed down my offering before sucking and licking my tired shaft clean. She smiled up at me from between my legs as she continued to run her tongue over me. "Well?" she asked. I'm sure the look on my face said it all, but I figured I should say it anyway. "Holly who?" I asked with a smile. At that point I was physically exhausted and could have easily gone to sleep for the rest of the night. But Connie wasn't done yet. She got me back up again before too long and we wound up fucking for over an hour. We fell into my bed exhausted and in the morning I woke up the way every guy dreams of waking up. I've gotten plenty of morning blow jobs before, but they usually started with a little making out and groping first. There was only one other time that I actually woke up in a woman's mouth. I have to say, waking up in Connie's mouth was the way I'd choose every day of the week. And yes, she swallowed my cum for breakfast that morning. Okay, I think I already said that Connie was a ten. And if I didn't, I'm sure anyone reading this would figure out that she was. What can I say? She said she was going to give me a great blow job and she did... three times! On the scorecard I say one of the best things about Connie was how much she wanted to suck my cock. It was obvious that she not only wanted to, but loved every minute of it. And she understood that blowing a guy's mind involves working his mind every bit as much as blowing him. She did a number on my mind, from the moment she showed up in those tight slacks to the swallowing of my load the next morning. A woman who understands how to work on a guy's mind like that and loves to give head is a leathal combination. Connie knew I got turned on by nice clothes, so she didn't wear jeans and a tee shirt. I told her I like it best when a woman gives head on her knees, so she got down on her knees for me. She knew I found it erotic when a woman swallows, so she swallowed. In short, everything she knew I liked, she did. A woman with that kind of desire to please is almost always going to score a ten out of ten. Her actual technique was excellent as well. I know I rated a blow job from Cheri as a ten in an earlier entry. But Cheri was a woman who had sucked me off so many times she could probably pick my cock out of a line up blindfolded. She knew everything about how I liked to be sucked, so for her to give me a great blow job was relatively easy. Connie, on the other hand, had never touched my cock before that night. For her to do such an excellent job says all you need to know about her cock sucking skills. She was a woman who plain and simple knew what to do with a cock in her mouth. I've emailed Connie several times since that night. She's still living with her sister and occasionally talks about getting back together with her husband. She hasn't been in my area since, but she says that if she ever is, she's up for a re-run of that night. I'm always joking with her that I can't remember if she or Holly gave me a better blow job and that they should come over for a "head-to-head" competition. Connie always replies that the idea of doubling up on a guy with her sister grosses her out, but I keep trying. If I ever get that to happen, you can rest assured it will be one for my journal. The Collector 11 I said before that I usually am not particularly interested in getting repeat performances. There are a couple reasons. First, I'm out to get as many women as I can to blow me, so getting more than one blow job from the same woman doesn't really further my cause. Second, I've found that a woman is most attentive to my cock the first time she gives me head. I guess the first time they suck a guy, they pull out all the stops to impress him. After that, they aren't going all out or the blow job becomes a prelude to intercourse. Not that I see anything wrong with a good sucking before a good fucking. I love to start in a woman's mouth and finish between her legs, but that's not what this journal is about. I've gotten more than one blow job from and had sex with many of the women in this journal. But like I said, the point of this journal is to record my collection, so I'm not including that stuff. Back to my point: The best blow job a woman is likely to give you is the first one she gives you. Or, maybe I should say, the best effort she will give you will be the first time. I realize that the better a woman gets to know your likes and dislikes, the better she'll be able to please you. But that first time out, she doesn't know exactly what you like, so she has to go all out and try everything she knows how to do. It seems to me that what guys like doesn't vary too much, because, from what I've seen, a woman who has sucked a lot of different cocks tends to give a much better first blow job than a woman with less experience. I assume that's because the more experienced cock sucker has found something that works for most of the men she's blown. A woman with fewer notches on her belt is still experimenting and will try things that may or may not be pleasing to the average guy. Where am I going with all of this? Well, I have an entry that includes a repeat performer. If that was all there was to it, I wouldn't have put her in here again. But I don't want to give too much away, especially since there may be a third entry that includes her, if I manage to pull off what I'm working on. Way back in my third journal entry I wrote about a woman named Eileen. She was the married neighbor of one of my friends, in her mid-to-late forties and relatively inexperienced at giving head. She had come to me, in fact, not to give me head but for me to please her (which I did). Afterward, she returned the favor by going down on me. Looking back, I think giving her an eight was rather generous, as she really didn't give a very good blow job. It was more the heat of the moment than good cock sucking on her part that led me to score her that high. At any rate, I wouldn't be mentioning her now if she hadn't sucked my cock again. It came about several months after the first encounter I had with her. It was probably the third or fourth time house sitting since that night. I had seen Eileen out in her garden during the other times I was house sitting and she always said hi. There was nothing in her words or actions that indicated that anything had been between us, which I thought was the best way for things to be handled. Anyway, when I house sat that third or fourth time, I expected things to be pretty much the same. So I was a little surprised when Eileen actually came over to talk with me as I came by walking my buddy's dog, AJ. At first it was just "Hi, how are you?" type small talk. Then, out of nowhere, she asked if I would be alone tonight. "I need to ask you something, but not here," Eileen explained. "Would it be possible for me to stop over later?" I had nothing lined up for that night, so I told her that would be fine. I spent the rest of the day wondering what Eileen wanted to talk about. Part of me was thinking that she was looking for a repeat of our night together, which, I admit, was better than anything I had planned. But somehow I didn't think it would be quite like that. I assumed that it might have to do with our encounter, but I expected it would have more to do with making sure we agreed on an alibi. When Eileen arrived, she was dressed casually, not in a skimpy sun dress as she had been that night. She did accept when I offered her a glass of wine though. Handing her the glass, I escorted her to the living room where we took seats facing each other. We didn't talk much and I could see she was nervous. Not nervous the way she had been the last time she had been here, but certainly not relaxed either. "Listen," Eileen finally blurted out. "I need to ask something and I don't really know how to word it without making myself ridiculously self-conscious." She looked up at me briefly, then back at the glass of wine in her hand. "You can ask me anything," I said, hoping that I wasn't going to regret it. I had no idea what she was going to ask. "Well," she began, and then paused for a moment. I could see very clearly that she changed her mind as to what she was going to say at the last instant. "Let's just say I'm not the only woman in the neighborhood who's husband isn't paying attention to her needs." Eileen settled back into a more comfortable position on the couch, crossed her legs and took a sip of wine. Apparently, she had figured out an easier, if less direct, way to say what was on her mind. "I was talking with this other wife the other day," Eileen continued slowly, not looking at me. "And she told me that she cheats on her husband and doesn't feel the slightest bit guilty. She said why should she, when he's the one who drove her to it." Another small sip of wine. "I know that's not right, but I don't know that I care what's right anymore." She paused and looked up at me briefly. I wasn't sure if she expected me to say anything, not that I knew what I should say. "Anyway, there's a guy who's shown some interest in me over the several months or so and I've always been nice but told him I wasn't interested." She paused again, searching for the right words. "Well, it isn't that I'm not interested. It's just that..." Eileen held up her hand to show her wedding band. "You know?" I nodded. "So anyway, this other wife and I are having a little confession session over a couple glasses of wine one night. And she's telling me about how much fun she's having and how alive it makes her feel and basically how it fills in all the pieces that are missing from her marriage. And I got to thinking that my life isn't that different. I don't want to leave my husband or start over or anything. But I'm missing something that he's supposed to be giving me. I guess," Eileen said after a brief pause, "I'm starting to think what she's doing makes a lot of sense." She stopped and looked up at me, perhaps waiting for me to acknowledge she was right. "You're only human," I said to her. "You can't expect to deny yourself what you need indefinitely." I wondered if she thought I was just telling her what she wanted to hear in hopes of getting with her again. Eileen nodded absently, not really paying attention to my words. "So I start thinking that maybe I give this guy a chance." Eileen paused, thinking, then shrugged and continued. "We just met for drinks and we had a really nice time. And," she said, looking a little sheepish, "we made out in the car a little bit too." She smiled and shrugged again. "He asked me to go back to his place, and part of me wanted to. But I just wasn't ready, you know?" I nodded, curious as to why she was telling me all of this. "So another night at Pa... uh, the other wife's house and a few more glasses of wine, and, well..." Eileen had a strange look on her face and I couldn't figure out where she was going with all of this. "Well," she took a deep breath. "I told her not only about the guy, but..." she hesitated. "About you and me as well," she blurted out. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I wasn't particularly concerned, but I thought it was a bit careless of Eileen to be telling people about her extramarital activities. She hurriedly explained. "I don't mean I just came right and told her. There's more to it. But nothing bad," Eileen added quickly. That last bit was to reassure me, I suppose. Naturally, I don't want to get caught in a messy situation, nor would I want anyone else to get into one on my account (I know--so keep it in my pants, right?), so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little relieved. "But I was telling her," Eileen continued, "about the guy and the offer to go back to his place. I told her that I didn't think I was ready to, you know, sleep with anyone other than my husband and all that. Well, that's when she starts about 'other things' I could do until I was ready." Eileen held up her wine glass. "Could you freshen this for me, please?" I brought her another glass and she took a sip before continuing. "Well, when she started talking about those other things," Eileen went on, "I guess she could tell I was getting kind of uncomfortable. So she asked me if I did that stuff." A little bit of color had come to Eileen's cheeks and she was no longer looking in my direction. "Well, I told her that I had done it before but..." Eileen trailed off, took another sip of her wine and gathered herself to continue. She was clearly finding it difficult to talk about it, and I still couldn't figure out why she was putting herself through all this to tell me. I waited patiently, wishing there was some way I could make it easier for her. "Anyway, once I said that, she started asking lots of questions and eventually I... well, I told her about, you know." Eileen glanced up at me and shrugged. "And you're worried she'll say something?" I asked. "Oh, no! Nothing like that," Eileen said quickly. "Not at all." She took a sip of wine and looked up at me. I guess the look on my face was one of confusion. "So, why am I telling you all this, right?" She smiled slightly, the nervousness she had shown earlier was creeping back into her words and gestures. "Yeah," I said, nodding. "I was wondering that." I said it casually and with a smile, so she wouldn't think I was getting impatient. I wasn't. But I was getting very curious. "Let's just say that I've been coming around to this other wife's way of thinking. Not all the way, but I'm thinking more and more about the things she says and I'm starting to think I agree with her." Eileen shifted on the sofa, trying unsuccessfully to make herself more comfortable. She sighed and settled back. "So I'm thinking I might want to do some of those other things with this guy and..." Again Eileen faltered. "I just don't know if I'm any good at it," she finally managed to get out. Now I realized why she was here. My first reaction was to reassure her that she had done just fine and that her willingness to please was the most important part. Before I could say so, Eileen cut me off. "This is all Paul... uh, the other wife's fault," she said, suddenly standing up. "I would never have thought about any of this on my own!" "Don't worry," I said, standing up and putting a hand on her shoulder. "If this guy is a nice guy, then you don't have anything to worry about. And if he's not," I shrugged, "you probably shouldn't waste your time." Eileen wasn't consoled with my words. She shook her head and sat down again. "I know that," she said, looking up at me. "And I know I'm being juvenile worrying about it. But now that I've started thinking about it, I can't stop." A change came over her as she said that. It seemed to me that once she had gotten it off her chest, she was more relaxed about it. She smiled slightly. "So?" she asked. I raised my eyebrows, not sure I understood her question. "Was I any good?" "Yes, of course you were," I assured her. "I didn't fake my orgasm!" I said and we both laughed, a bit too much perhaps. "Yes, I know," Eileen said as the laughter faded. "But I never did that much and, well, I just..." She stopped, collected her thoughts and started again. "You're the only other man other than my husband that I've done that for. And he and I, well, it was so long ago. Now there's another man that I might, you know, be willing to... And I can't help worrying that I'll... that he... well, I just want to make sure he... That it's something special." she finally finished. "So you want me to tell you how you did?" She nodded. "In general or specifically?" I shouldn't have asked the second question. How could I have a frank discussion with Eileen when she probably never said the word blow job to a man in her life? "Specifics," she said quietly. "I need to know." Her eyes were on the floor again. "I don't know how specific I can be," I told her honestly. "When it's difficult for you to talk about this at all. Not to mention it was several months ago." As I said it, I realized that she might think I was just saying that in hopes of getting her to blow me again. In reality that wasn't what I had in mind at all, but that's how it wound up working out. I guess it was just dumb luck on my part. Or Eileen had been thinking that way all along. Either way works for me. "So if I want your honest opinion, I either have to be able to talk about it, or...?" Eileen asked, looking up at me. "Or?" I asked, knowing what she would say. "Do it again." She tried to look into my eyes, but couldn't. "I'm sure I could give you some pointers," I offered. "When did you, uh, want to...?" I found it amusing to find myself talking in vague terms and unfinished sentences just like Eileen. "When would you be available?" She was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but I heard a slight quiver in her voice. Nervous? Or excited? Perhaps a little of both? "Well, ordinarily I'd have you call my social secretary and schedule an appointment, but..." I winked at her and she smiled. "Maybe I can squeeze you in at your earliest convenience." One of the problems with talking in coy language like that is that neither person quite knows when to stop talking and get down to it. I figured Eileen could drag this out for another half hour if I left it up to her. So I stood up and put my hand on my belt. I raised my eyebrows, wordlessly asking if she was ready. She looked up at me with an _expression of uncertainty, but I pretty much knew by that point that she wasn't going home before she tasted my cock again. I unbuckled my belt and undid my pants. By the time I was pulling them down, she was sitting on the edge of the couch leaning toward me. My cock was just starting to harden as I pulled it out for her. Eileen looked at it, then up at me. I think she wasn't sure if she should start or wait for me to get fully erect first. "Go on," I encouraged her softly. Eileen took my half-erect cock in her hand and pulled it toward her mouth. As I expected, she started, as she had the previous time, by kissing my member. They weren't particularly sexy kisses either. More of dry little pecks here and there. I stepped back. "If you don't want to do this..." I began. "Wh... uh, what do you mean?" "Well, your kisses," I said, trying not to sound critical. "They're kind of, well, polite. Like you'd give a friend, not a lover." Eileen looked at my still only partially erect cock in her hand and nodded slowly. "This should be a very passionate act," I continued. "If you don't feel that way about it, I don't know how much I can help you." She sat there a moment longer, just looking at what she held in her hand. I wasn't sure what she was thinking or what she would do. I didn't think she would just stop, but I have to admit, I wasn't really sure. "Passionate, huh?" Eileen asked softly after a few moments. Without waiting for an answer, she began running her tongue over me, up and down my hardening shaft, over my head and even my balls. She moved quickly and energetically with her tongue, but I wouldn't call it passionate or sensual. I hesitated only a moment before pulling away from her again. "Stand up," I said to her. She complied, but I could see the question forming on her lips. "Shhh," I said as I pulled her body firmly against mine. I bent my head down and covered her mouth with my own, planting a deep, wet kiss on her lips. I felt her arms go around me as her lips parted and she kissed me back. Our tongues were slipping in and out of each other's mouths as we pulled our bodies closer together. My hard cock was pressed against her as we continued to exchange steamy kisses. Our hands began exploring each other's bodies as well. Eileen moaned softly as my hand caressed her breast. Her own hand found its way back to my throbbing member and she squeezed it as her tongue darted in and out of my mouth. After a few minutes of this, I broke our embrace. "Now try," I said. Eileen started to sit back on the sofa, but I stopped her. "It's better if you're on your knees," I told her. Without hesitating, she got down on her knees and took my cock in her hand. This time she wasn't tentative or trying too hard. Eileen planted a wet, open-lipped kiss on the head of my cock, slipping her tongue out under my shaft and running it along my vein. She twisted her head back and forth a few times, letting her lips drag across the sensitive skin there. The same sensuality I had unlocked with our kisses Eileen now brought to her cock sucking. She bobbed about half way down my shaft three or four times before pulling me out of her mouth to kiss and lick me some more. Then I was back in her mouth as she took my rod in another half dozen times. Eileen sat back on her heels, letting my shaft, glistening with her saliva, slip from her mouth. She took a deep breath and looked up at me. "I, uh..." she opened her eyes wide, arching her eyebrows. "That's not what I thought it would be like." I wasn't sure what she meant, but she went on before I could ask. "I didn't expect to get, you know..." Eileen shrugged. "From doing that." She was trying to tell me she was getting turned on from giving me head. That made my cock throb. There's nothing better than a woman enjoying sucking a cock like that. "I told you it was a passionate act," I said to her. "Passion goes both ways." I took my shaft in hand and offered it to her, holding it just a few inches from her face. She quickly accepted, her lips parting as she bent her head down over me again. Eileen bobbed slowly up and down a few more times, her eyes closed, the pleasure still very visible on her face. She paused with half my cock in her mouth and just knelt there, not moving for a long moment. "Mmmmmm..." she breathed as she dragged her lips up my rigid shaft. "I never realized," she said and sucked me back into her mouth. She bobbed a few more times, twisting her head and running her tongue around on me as she did. I encouraged her with moans when what she did felt good and she seemed to take her cue from that. Eileen was still a little clumsy in her technique, but she was showing genuine enthusiasm in her efforts. The first time Eileen had given me head, I think she was motivated more by a desire to please me in return for pleasing her. And that's fine in my book. This time though, she seemed to be relishing the experience, truly enjoying the feel and taste of a hard cock in her mouth. Where before Eileen was only interested in doing what it took to make me cum, this time she seemed to be less concerned with my orgasm and more so with getting pleasure from the act. Again, that's fine and dandy with me too. I want a woman to enjoy what she's doing, especially if it feels good. And what Eileen was doing generally felt good. Like I said, she was a little awkward in how she sucked me, but overall I thought she was giving a much better blow job than last time. The first time she hadn't been that into it and I had to keep encouraging her to keep her from slowing down and stopping. I also felt like I had to cum quickly to keep her from getting discouraged or running out of steam. This time around I was still offering plenty of encouragement, but I had no plans to cum in a hurry. If she was getting into sucking my cock, I'd let her take her time and enjoy it. The Collector 11 Eileen's mouth was wet and warm and all over my cock. She didn't take me very deep, maybe half way, but she was clearly losing herself in the heat of the moment. She held my shaft firmly in her hand as she bobbed with her eyes closed. Once in a while a soft sigh or moan would escape her. Eileen sucked on, licked and explored my cock for at least ten minutes and was showing no signs of tiring. What she was doing was mostly straight-forward sucking, which is good, but not particularly exciting. When I had had enough, I started looking at her, watching her lips slide up and down on my rigid member, taking in how good she looked on her knees. Seeing her knees and feet close together in such good form excited me further. I concentrated on her face next. Her eyes were closed and the soft light of the living room hid her age. I ran my fingers through her short brown hair and over her face, caressing her cheeks and neck. I decided not to tell Eileen when I was about to cum as I had last time. She had managed okay on that occasion and she shouldn't be expecting that kind of warning because most men wouldn't give it. So I watched her lips slide up and down me, my shaft disappearing over and over into mouth and felt my climax build up. I watched as she dutifully sucked me from her knees and I knew I was getting close. A few minutes later I felt my balls tighten and then my cock erupted, perfectly timed to meet Eileen's downstroke. As her lips came back up, a second gob of cum joined the first in her mouth. She came part way down my cock again as I deposited a third spurt between her lips. She knelt there for a moment with my cock and cum in her mouth. I guess she was remembering the first time, when she pulled away before I was finished and got a squirt across her face. This time Eileen gave my cock a good firm squeeze, forcing its remaining contents into her mouth before letting it fall from her lips. She sat back on her heels and I could tell she was struggling to swallow. Eventually she managed to get my load down and she looked up at me. "How did I do?" "You did great," I told her. "You've got the most important part down." "What's that?" she asked. "The desire," I said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Once you've got that, the rest is just a matter of practice." "Practice?" she asked, with a strange grin on her face. "My husband's out of town all week." "Really?" "Yes, really. Can I come over and practice?" Naturally, I wound up saying yes, although it doesn't really do much to further my journal. Hey, a blow job is still a blow job, right? And besides, in Eileen's case, I didn't get her best effort the first time. In fact, I'd have to say she got better each night. The one I just described was an honestly deserved eight, as opposed to the eight I gave her for the first blow job. The next night was at least as good, maybe an eight point five. The third and final night she wound up giving me two blow jobs. After the first, which was probably an eight-five like the night before, I ate her out for almost forty minutes. When I was done with her, she was practically exhausted. But that didn't stop her from getting down on her knees again and sucking a second load out of me. That one was particularly nice because she was very relaxed yet eager to pleasure me. She was also not wearing anything below the waist, which was nice to look at. She may have been a bit older and been carrying a couple extra pounds, but I got turned on looking at her bare thighs and partly exposed pussy. I got so turned on that I wanted to turn her around and fuck her, but she indicated that she would rather finish the job with her mouth, and who am I to argue? That last blow job was the best of the bunch, and not just because it was my second orgasm in an hour, which always feels great. Eileen's approach was very basic sucking, but she was getting better at it every time and that last one was her best effort. It wasn't quite a nine in it's own right, but again I find myself being generous when it comes to scoring Eileen. I figure it was the second time in an hour she had sucked me off and swallowed my cum, and the fourth time in three days, so a nine isn't unreasonable. There were other reasons I scored her a bit higher than I would have scored a more experienced woman who gave the same performance. One was, after I told her about it the first time, she got down on her knees for the rest of the blow jobs she gave me. And when she was on her knees she had nice form and posture, which, for whatever reason, makes it more exciting for me. That and her new-found passion for sucking cock really made a great combination. I guess I take that for granted with more experienced women, but with Eileen I got to see and help it develop. Eileen also swallowed every load I put in her mouth. True, she did stop sucking as soon as I came, so she didn't get everything out of me, but most of what came out of my cock went down her throat. I thought about asking her why she didn't spit it out, since she obviously was having a tough time getting it down. But a selfish side of me didn't want to mess up a good thing. Hey, if she thinks she's expected to swallow, why should I tell her any different? Yeah, that means I'm an asshole, and I know it. But I may get her to suck my cock again and I want her to swallow then as well. I mentioned earlier in this entry that I was hoping Eileen would make it into my journal a third time. Why? Well, after you read the next entry, you'll understand. ;) The Collector 12 Okay, I know at the end of my last entry I said I was going to pick up where I left off, but I changed my mind. That continuation is probably going to be a long one and, since people keep asking me to post more often, I thought I'd write up a shorter one first. So I'm going to skip the continuation for now and write about one that I promised earlier: Trish. I also want to thank again everyone who's been enjoying my journal entries and has taken the time to write and say so. I really appreciate all the positive feedback. It really makes the time and effort that goes into my journal worthwhile. Again, I'd especially like to thank the ladies for taking the time to share their perspectives with me. Always interesting to hear how things are from your point of view. Thanks all. AM Anyway, back to my journal entry about Trish. I worked with Trish and had been slowly trying to get something going with her. I think it was really only a matter of time before something happened between us, but it became almost inevitable after the incident with Angie. In fact, it was less than two weeks after Trish photographed Angie gagging on my cock that she decided to taste me for herself. Trish was in her early thirties, divorced and had a couple of kids. She was a little on the plump side, but in a very cute way. She had a nicely rounded ass, curvy hips and perky, if not large breasts. Her long, straight hair was a reddish brown. I don't think it was her natural color, but it complimented her rosy cheeks and blue-green eyes quite well. There was a simply prettiness to Trish's face. She wasn't beautiful or even a woman likely to turn heads. But she had a very girl-next-door quality about her. She looked, well, I guess 'sweet' is the word. She looked sweet. Trish was the office gopher, meaning she ran errands, delivered mail, filled in on the switchboard and a bunch of other odd jobs. As such, she wasn't expected to meet the office dress code. That was a bit of a disappointment for me, because I would have loved to have seen her in a dress or even slacks and a nice top. But Trish wore jeans and a pullover most of the time. Not that she didn't look good in jeans... jeans can make a nice ass like hers look even better and I enjoyed the way they hugged Trish's thick thighs. Trish had an outgoing, friendly personality. She talked to everyone in the office and smiled and laughed a lot when she did. It was almost impossible to talk to her and not walk away smiling. It was because Trish was so easy to talk to that things went slowly with her at first. What I mean is, because she was friendly and outgoing with everyone, it was difficult to tell if she was interested. As I talked to her more, it became obvious she was at least somewhat interested, though she did say she didn't date co-workers. Again, eye contact was the key. It's amazing how looking directly into a woman's eyes when you're talking can heat things up. Even if you're talking about the most boring, work-related stuff. The other thing was our joking around. Trish had a really good sense of humor and, for my part, I'm always trying to crack people up. So our conversations were light and fun and usually included a little flirting. Anyway, when Trish and I would see each other around the office, we'd say hi and chat a little. When she brought my mail, she'd linger for a bit and we'd joke and flirt with each other. It started slowly, so it took a while for me to figure out if I had a shot with her. And even once I got to the point where I was thinking I could hook up with her, it still wasn't all that clear. Because we joked around a lot, I could never be sure how serious her flirting was. All that changed, of course, the day I enlisted her help against Angie. That afternoon, Trish stood and watched, with camera in hand, as the biggest bitch in the office sucked my cock. As I came, Trish snapped a few pictures of the moment. It was the only time I've ever had another woman watch me get a blow job, so I don't know if I can generalize. But it seems that once a woman has watched you get your cock sucked, it's not that much of a stretch for her to imagine blowing you herself. Assuming that she was at least mildly interested in you in the first place, of course. Well, after Trish took the pictures of Angie, she took off and I didn't see her again until the next day. She popped by my desk first thing in the morning, asking if I had checked my email yet. I'm a guy who has his email open all the time, but I had just gotten in and hadn't fired it up yet. "I'll wait," Trish replied, when I told her I hadn't checked it yet. When I opened my email, I saw it immediately. It was an email from Trish's personal email account and there was a file attached. With Trish looking over my shoulder, I opened the email. There they were: the pictures Trish had taken of me cumming in Angie's mouth. They weren't the greatest quality, but there was no doubt about what they showed. "I like that one best," Trish said, pointing over my shoulder and letting out a little laugh. "Yeah, you got my good side," I replied. Of course, there wasn't much of me in the picture, because most of me was crammed into Angie's mouth. Trish leaned down and whispered in my ear that she had left a disk on Angie's desk with these same pictures on it. "Do you, uh... You think that was a good idea?" I was pretty nervous about the fallout from Angie taking the matter up with the personnel department. "What's she going to say?" asked Trish with a shrug. "She's a married woman who was performing oral sex on a guy at work! You think she wants anyone to know that? She still has the whole thing with Frank hanging over her head, too." When Trish put it that way, it was certainly obvious that Angie had a lot more to lose than I did. But I was still more than a little worried about it. Okay, maybe scared would have been a better word. I don't know what I expected Trish to do with those pictures, but I'm sure I didn't think she'd be so brazen as to put copies on Angie's desk. "Come on! What are you worried about?" I guess Trish could tell I was a bit uneasy about what she had done. Trish stood up and looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. "All you did was get a blow job!" she said, ducking back down. "And a mighty fine one, judging by the pictures," Trish added with a laugh. "Well, not that fine," I said, still worried, but not wanting to show it. "If she was as good at sucking as she is at bitching... well, then maybe." "Oh, really? You looked like you were enjoying it just fine to me!" "Don't get me wrong," I said. "I'm not complaining, but I've had better." I looked at Trish and gave her a shrug before adding, "Of course, I'd rather she use her mouth for that than..." I winked and Trish laughed. "Yeah, that's the longest she went without saying something rude to someone," Trish said. We both laughed and Trish went on her way. Over the next several days, Trish joked about it quite a bit. She went out of her way, it seemed to me, to mention it. "Angie's over there yelling at poor Dave," Trish told me on one such occasion. "Could you go over there and, uh... shut her up?" At first I think I must have been still sweating what would happen if Angie were to drag me into the personnel office. But by the middle of the following week I was starting to loosen up some and joke back. "Angie wants to order lunch out," Trish said walking past my desk. "Maybe you should send her over a foot-long." "Why?" I shot back. "She only takes in three inches at time anyway." Another time, as Trish passed me in the hallway: "I hear they're offering smoked sausage in the file room this afternoon." "I'll pass," I said with a wink. "Not spicy enough for me." "Oh really? I heard it was pretty good. Looks good in the pictures anyway," Trish laughed. "Nah, I've had better." We had several of these little exchanges, each time we both walked away laughing. I also walked away slightly turned on, wondering what I should say to advance things with Trish. It seemed more and more that she was ripe for the picking. But I always feel a little uncertain as to where to end the joking and get down to business. Eventually, you get to the point where you just have to roll the dice and see what happens. I felt I had gotten to that point with Trish. If she was going to do it, she was going to do it and there wasn't any need to keep joking and flirting and building up to it. In short, it was time to whip it out and see what she'd do with it. Trish came by my desk Tuesday morning to drop off some mail. "How's your girlfriend doing today?" she asked. Trish had taken to calling Angie my girlfriend as a way of teasing me. "We broke up," I replied. "She gives lousy head." "Really?" Trish said in mock surprise. "Sure looked good in the pictures." "Yeah, well, pictures or not, I've decided to look for a woman who knows how to do it right." I gave her a wink. Trish's normally rosy cheeks may have gotten just a bit redder, I couldn't tell. She looked around to make sure no one was nearby before answering. "Too bad you don't come in earlier," she said and then hurried off before I could ask any questions. It seemed clear enough what she meant, but I wanted to be sure she really meant it. Later in the day I passed her in the hallway. "What do you consider early enough?" I asked. "6:30," Trish replied as she brushed past me without stopping. I knew the ball was in my court now. I felt a surge of warmth rush through my balls at the thought of Trish sucking my cock, perhaps as soon as the next morning. I usually get to work fairly early to beat the morning traffic. I get to my desk between seven and seven-thirty every morning, so six-thirty wasn't too much of a stretch for me. Especially considering the reason. There was never any doubt in my mind that I was coming in early the next day. When I arrived at twenty after six the next morning, most of the lights in the office were still off. I put my things at my desk, but didn't turn on my light or my computer. Instead, I left everything dark and made my way quietly back to the mail room. The place was empty, so I really didn't need to be quiet, but when you're up to something, it's tough not to tread softly. I'm sure if I had bumped into anyone at that point, they would know that I was up to no good. Fortunately, I saw no one between my desk and the mail room. All of the desks around the mail room were dark and unoccupied, making the light coming through the door seem far brighter than it really was. I paused outside the door for a moment and listened, but heard nothing. I wondered if Trish was going to be there. When she had said 6:30, had she meant today? Did she think I wouldn't show up? Had I misunderstood or had she changed her mind? I thought all of these things as stood listening at the door. Then, taking a deep breath, I walked into the room and looked around. Trish was sitting at a battered desk, a cup of coffee and a newspaper in front of her. She looked up, startled, as I came in. "Oh my God," she said with a nervous laugh. "You scared the crap out of me!" I noticed that she kept her voice low, which she wouldn't have done if she wasn't thinking the same thing I was. "You're in a bit early today, aren't you?" I nodded and gestured with my head toward a row of file cabinets. The cabinets formed a little alcove, hidden from the doorway and the rest of the room. Without saying a word, I walked around behind them and waited. A moment later, Trish came back. "Just like that?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper. I looked right into her eyes, smiled and gave a little shrug. She looked at me for a moment, a look of speculation on her face. Then she looked me up and down and, with a curious smile on her lips, walked out of the alcove. I felt immediate disappointment. I really thought Trish wanted to give me head and I had naturally assumed that her comment the day before was an invitation. I was totally surprised when she turned and walked away. I stood there a moment in comically stunned disbelief and was just about to leave when Trish returned. She was holding a camera. The same camera she had used to photograph Angie and me. She had a grin on her face that could only be described as devilish. It was a very unusual look to see on Trish's face. As I said, she was the text book definition of the sweet girl-next-door type. I found her grin rather stimulating. "Take it out," Trish whispered. I readily complied and she quickly snapped a couple pictures before nervously poking her head around the file cabinets, checking to make sure no one was around. I wasn't erect when I pulled it out, but the idea that Trish was taking pictures of my cock was turning me on. When she was satisfied no one was about to walk in on us, Trish came over to me and took my stiffening rod in one hand and squeezed it while she snapped pictures with her other hand. If you've never had sex at work or in some public place, I can't really explain the thrill. There is, of course, the adrenaline rush that comes with the possibility of being caught. But I don't think that's the only thing that heightens the experience. Maybe it's because it's out of context. An office is not a place where you're supposed to have sex, so it seems kind of dirty. And dirty is definitely more exciting. At any rate, between Trish's hand, her camera and the thrill of having my cock out in the mail room, I quickly stiffened. When Trish let go of my hardened shaft, it remained pointing rigidly at her. "Oh, my," she said softly as she squatted down, braced herself with one hand on my thigh and took a couple close-up pictures. Then Trish handed her camera up to me and wrapped her hand around the base of my shaft. Her mouth hung slightly open and her breathing suddenly became uneven. "Oh, my," she repeated. She looked up at me with a half smile and rolled her eyes, as if to say "I can't believe I'm doing this." I could almost see the nervous energy radiating from her. Then Trish leaned her head back, opened her mouth wide and placed my shaft on her tongue. She nodded toward the camera in my hand, indicating I should take a picture. My hands were a little shaky as I looked through the viewer at my cock resting on Trish's tongue. I was afraid the pictures would come out blurry if I didn't calm myself down a little. I snapped a couple pictures of Trish with my shaft on her tongue. I looked at them on the camera's viewer and my whole body trembled slightly. I have met very few women who would let a man take pictures of her while she's sucking his cock. But there is something incredibly sexy about it. Maybe it's just the idea that you'll have a permanent reminder of being in her mouth, but I don't think that's the whole reason. I think it's got something to do with the kind of woman that wants to be photographed. The average woman either wouldn't want to be or wouldn't trust a man with pictures of her. It takes a rather erotic, or perhaps even perverted, woman to hand a man a camera before going down on him. Whatever her motivation, Trish clearly wanted me to capture the deed in pictures. I had to take a couple deep breaths and calm myself down, even as she closed her mouth over my shaft. Again, she paused with her lips wrapped around me, looking up and waiting for me to snap a picture. When she slid her lips down me, taking in nearly all of me, I took another one. Finally, she bobbed up and down a few times on me, her lips smearing her warm saliva up and down my shaft. I had to look away for a minute because the sight of Trish's school-girl face sucking on my cock was making me throb and getting me way too close, way too soon. I leaned back on the wall behind me, breathing heavily and trying not to look down or think about Trish's lips on my cock for a moment or two. Fortunately, Trish was sucking rather slowly, so I was able to get myself under control. When I regained my composure, I looked down at Trish. Her eyes were closed now as her lips slid smoothly up and down my rock-hard member. She was still squatting down, one hand braced against my thigh, the other wrapped firmly around the base of my shaft. She was wearing her long red-brown hair up, allowing me to see her alabaster neck bend to and fro with each bob of her mouth. I've mentioned before that I like a woman to be on her knees when she sucks my cock. It's a little thing, sure, maybe even petty, but cock sucking is submissive and the most submissive way a woman can suck a cock is on her knees. So I wasn't crazy about Trish squatting to give me head. On the other hand, the way her jeans hugged her thick thighs, the way the denim seemed to strain to contain them as they came together at the rounded triangle of her pussy, was doing something for me. Yeah, maybe I would have preferred Trish to be on her knees, but I wasn't complaining. Trish continued sucking me at a deliciously unhurried pace. She went about three quarters of the way down my rod each time, her lips firm and warm around my girth. I can't say enough how her sweet face bobbing up and down turned me on. Some women just don't look like cock suckers. I know that's a ridiculous thing to say, but it's true. There are just faces that don't seem like they belong in a man's lap. At any rate, Trish was clearly not inexperienced. Her mouth was warm and silky on my cock, gliding patiently up and down me. Once I was past the danger of cumming too quickly, I was able to relax and enjoy her lips' caress. She gave me a good, steady sucking, pausing every so often to run her tongue up the underside of my shaft and lick my head. As she sucked on me, I took the camera and snapped more pictures, this time from the side. It was a bit trick trying to guess what angle to hold the camera and it took me a few tries to get a good shot. I did get a few that were really good once I figured it out. There was one with more that half of my cock in Trish's mouth, her lips stretched as she came up my shaft. There was another where my cock wasn't as deep, but she was looking up at me. I love it when a woman looks up when she's blowing me. I'm not sure why that is, but when a woman looks into my eyes while my member is in her mouth, it makes my balls ache for release. Once I had taken a few good pictures, I put the camera down and concentrated on Trish and her sucking. I was aware that people would begin arriving at the office at any time and we should probably wrap things up a little sooner than I would have liked. Trish, however, continued bobbing at her unhurried pace. It was what I'd call a luscious sucking, and I wished I had more time to savor it. A woman who will suck slowly and patiently for a long time is a woman you want sucking your cock, believe me. Unfortunately, we had already been there fifteen minutes or more and I was going to have to cum before anyone wandered into the mail room. As I've said before, there are a lot of factors that go into making a blow job something special. The cock sucking skills of the woman is only one piece of the picture, although it's obvious a very important one. The visual aspect is another important part. It's a big turn on for me to watch a woman sucking me, to look at her, the way she moves when she's sucking, the way she's dressed and the position she's in while doing the deed. Circumstances are another thing that make a blow job hot. In this case, I was getting one at work. That's hotter than your average living-room-sofa variety blow job. Cameras, too, I discovered, made things a bit more interesting. All of these things were playing a factor in my level of excitement. I was listening for the sound of voices outside the mail room door while I watched Trish bob passionately on my cock. Her supple thighs, straining against the fabric of her jeans, were spread in a 'V' on either side of my legs as her neck lowered her lips over me time and time again. I soaked all this in with my eyes while the sensations of her mouth on my cock sent a more physical thrill through my loins. I watched her bob with her eyes closed on my throbbing shaft, telling myself that in a few minutes I would be cumming in the mouth of this sweet-faced woman. The Collector 12 Trish had been squatting in front of me sucking my cock for over twenty minutes when we heard voices outside the room. No one came into the room and the voiced faded quickly, but it was enough of a warning to Trish. She looked up at me, smiling with my cock still in her mouth. "I guess I better hurry up," she said softly. When she put her lips to me again, it was at a much faster pace. Trish also slid her hand into my pants and began lightly stroking my balls, sending flashed of pleasure shooting through me. As her tempo increased, the amount of my shaft she took in decreased. Nevertheless, it was only a few minutes later that my balls began to contract and the muscles in my legs and abdomen tightened. A minute later I was unloading in her mouth. My cock spasmed as a jet of cum shot out of it onto Trish's waiting tongue. She sucked and stroked me slowly after I came, drawing out another spurt or two, before letting me slide from her mouth. She put one of her knees to the floor as she reached back and pulled a handkerchief from her back pocket. Then she turned away as she put it to her mouth and spit my load into it. Then she used it to wipe the last drops from the end of my shaft before standing up and grabbing her camera. "Can't wait to see what these look like," Trish whispered with a wicked smile. "Do I get copies?" I asked. "We'll see," was her reply. I did get copies, but cropped or censored so that Trish couldn't be identified in them. I eventually did get her to give me an unedited copy of the one taken from the side of her looking up at me, cock in mouth. I still get hard looking at that picture. Anyway, on to the score card. Like I said, circumstances can play a big part in how exciting a blow job is. Guys, if you've ever been fortunate enough to find a woman willing to suck your cock at work, you'll know that it can be a pretty hot experience. Trish's willingness to go down on me in the mail room certainly added something to her score. And it isn't just the thrill of taking a chance, of maybe getting caught. It's also knowing that you're with a woman crazy, sexy and/or erotic enough to want to blow you in a public place. The camera definitely added something too. I bit surprised, Trish being the sweet, perky, girl-next-door type that she is, that she would have been into that. I guess looks can be deceiving, because Trish was probably as turned on by the pictures as I was. I don't know how to explain it, but there is something very erotic about a woman who wants to have her picture taken with a cock in her mouth. And I don't mean a woman who lets a guy take pictures like that. I mean a woman who wants them taken. Trish was the one who brought the camera and handed it to me. It was clear she wanted to see what she looked like sucking my cock. Again, that's pretty hot. Trish wasn't wearing the type of clothes that I prefer to see a woman in. She was in her usual jeans and pullover top, which isn't exactly the elegant cocksucker look that turns me on. On the other hand, I did enjoy the way her meaty thighs looked in denim. So, maybe not my first choice, but not a total loss either. Which brings me to the fact that Trish was a squatter, not a kneeler. That was a bit of a disappointment. Now that makes me sound like a jerk for sure, especially since the floor in the mail room was cold, hard tile. But I can't help it. I get turned on seeing a woman on her knees. Is it a turn off if she doesn't kneel? Well, not necessarily. I'd rather get sucked by a woman who squats than not get sucked at all. But given the choice, I would definitely have enjoyed Trish's blow job more if she had been on her knees. I admit, I did enjoy seeing the way her jeans stretched around her thick thighs as she squatted before me. But I still would have preferred she kneel. The other big strike against Trish was that she didn't swallow my cum. Again, I'd rather get a blow job from a woman that spits it out than not get a blow job at all. But I like walking away knowing that my load went down a woman's throat and into her belly. Yeah, I know that no matter how erotic swallowing is, it happens after I've already cum, so it really shouldn't make a difference. But there's no denying that knowing a woman has swallowed my cum always makes a blow job better. The last thing I want to talk about is Trish's actual sucking, which I must say, I enjoyed tremendously. I only wish that we had had more time. I would love to know how it would feel to reach orgasm with that slow, passionate sucking. It felt great, it just wasn't enough physical stroking of my cock to get me off in the time we had. I'm sure if she hadn't had to speed up, it would have been sensational. Trish's faster sucking was only average. She didn't go as far down as she had when she went slowly and it just lost that deliciously passionate aura. Though it really doesn't have anything to do with this entry or Trish's score, I did get her to give me head under less hurried circumstances in my apartment a few days later. Unfortunately, she didn't do the long, slow sucking as she had done in the mail room that first time. Well, she did it for a while, but then stepped up the tempo to get me to cum, so I didn't get to find out what I had missed. A minor disappointment and an example of why I'm not particularly interested in getting women to suck me a second time. Anyway, put Trish down for an eight point five. She had wonderful sucking skills that I wish I could have enjoyed further. She sucked me off in a public place and she had me take pictures of her in action. The pictures will be a nice reminder of how good it felt to be in her mouth and they're something I'll think about every time she walks past my desk. Yeah, being on her knees and swallowing my cum would have upped her score a bit, but I'm not complaining. I'll take a cock sucker like Trish any time. The Collector 13 The Collector XIII Okay, as promised, here's the one I skipped over to write about my blow job from Trish. This is sort of a sequel to my eleventh entry, about Eileen. Eileen had told me about how another wife in the neighborhood, one of her friends, had gotten her to consider cheating on her husband. This other wife had a sexually neglectful husband and used that as rationale to sleep with other men. I don't want to say whether I think that's right or wrong. I'm obviously not the moralizing type. And besides, I'm also obviously not above putting my cock in the mouth of a married woman. At any rate, this other wife had gotten Eileen thinking along those lines and it wound up working out in my favor. I got a few blow jobs from Eileen out of the deal, so that was just fine with me. But even as Eileen and I were having our fun, I was wondering which neighbor it was. Who was she? What did she look like? Would she be interested in becoming part of my collection? Now this wasn't my neighborhood. I only spent time there because a friend of mine lived there and he and his wife traveled frequently. As such, I did a lot of house-and-dog sitting for them. It was a sweet deal for me, because it was a hell of a lot nicer than my apartment and it was also closer to where I worked. So when I house sat, I usually stayed over. Part of my dog sitting responsibility was taking the dog, AJ, for a walk every day. This is how I met Eileen in the first place, so I never missed a chance to walk him. Several other women in the neighborhood recognized me and said hi to me when they saw me and AJ. Naturally, after my success with Eileen, I couldn't help but think of them all as potential journal entries. Especially now that Eileen had told me there was at least one woman in the neighborhood looking for something on the side. A little while after my encounters with Eileen, I was house sitting again. My buddy had asked me to take care of a little bit of yard work for him and I had said yes. I didn't mind helping him out. After all, I was staying in his house, drinking his beer and wine and watching his big screen TV while he was away. So I couldn't really bitch about some minor yard work. Besides, I like being outdoors when the weather is nice. And then there was the real reason, which was that I had an excuse to hang out in the front yard and check out all of the soccer moms going by. And, of course, give them a chance to check out me. While I was out there, I saw a woman walking behind a young child on a bicycle. It was obvious by the way the woman followed that the kid was just learning to ride. She smiled, waved and said hi as they went by. They passed close to where I was working, so I got a pretty good look at her. She was in her late twenties or early thirties. She had blonde hair, but she didn't look like a natural blonde to me. She was short, maybe five-two or so and had a very nice build. She was thin, but with generous hips and supple breasts, probably about a C cup. Her ass was small and nicely shaped. She was wearing a jogging outfit, so I couldn't see her legs, but I figured they probably looked as good as the rest of her. Her face was very pretty, with soft brown eyes, high cheeks, a brilliantly white smile and full rosy lips. Where I come from, lips like hers are called blow job lips. I felt a stirring in my pants as I thought about those lips wrapped around my throbbing cock. She followed her son on his bike past me three or four more times, each time smiling and saying hi. At the time I thought I was just being arrogant, but I couldn't help thinking that she was paying more attention to me than to her kid. I also couldn't help noticing that she was wearing make up. Now obviously I didn't know what she might have been doing beforehand. She might have come from somewhere and just not taken it off, but the impression she gave was that she was a woman who wanted to be noticed. Now in the course of pursuing my collection, I've found a certain type of woman that I really enjoy. They're usually around my age, late twenties to early thirties, although I've come across some older and some younger. One thing they all have in common is that they got married young and many of them also had children fairly early on. A large percentage of them married high school or college sweethearts. I found that many of these women, still married or not, were sexually restless. At first, I assumed this was because they had married the first man, or one of the first men, they had slept with and they were wondering what they had missed out on. But I realized rather quickly that that was more of a guy's way of thinking, not a woman's. I've slowly developed a theory, but it's still a work in progress. I'm always meeting women who challenge it. The theory isn't something I can summarize easily, but I'll run through it and hit the key points. First, when many of these women got married, they were recently out of high school or college and usually still very much in touch with their peer groups--the people that they had in common with their husbands. Well, as time passes, high school and college friends often go their separate ways and suddenly, a large part of what a woman and her husband had in common is gone. Next, many of these women loved school, participated in tons of extracurricular activities, were involved with everything and part of the "in" crowd. Now they're dragging kids around the supermarket, driving minivans and feeling a bit lost and alone in a life they barely recognize. In many instances they were accustomed to being popular. They were big fish in their little pools. In the wider world though, they become anonymous, just another face in a huge crowd. All of these things, and quite possibly plenty of other factors, combine to make these women restless. When their husbands don't step up and help them deal with these feelings, they begin to turn elsewhere. That's where I come in. Yeah, maybe that makes me a slimy opportunist, but the way I see it, they're going to do what they're going to do anyway. I'm not the cause for them being dissatisfied or disillusioned with their lives. I'm just giving them what they've already decided they want. I know that doesn't make my part in it any less wrong. All I can say in my defense is that these women are smoldering with passion, just waiting for someone to fan their embers. They're also, generally speaking, some of the best cock suckers I've ever had the pleasure to have known. Which brings me back to the hot mom I was watching walk up and down the street behind her bike-riding son. She definitely had that look about her; that she was fishing for male attention. You don't need any special radar to pick up on that. It's usually pretty obvious. What's not always clear is how much attention they're looking for. That's something that has to be played out carefully. It's been my experience that many times they aren't looking to do more than a little flirting, but, if a guy knows how to work it, things can easily go beyond the flirting stage. Having watched her go by a few times, I decided to move a little closer to the sidewalk and wait for her to pass again. When she did, I had no trouble striking up a conversation with her. It was obvious she wanted to talk. She was very outgoing and friendly and did more than her fair share of keeping the conversation going. In the course of our talking she asked about, and I explained, my house sitting. She got a strange grin on her face as I told her about my friends' frequent travels and how I took advantage of the opportunity by staying at their house. "I'll bet you've been taking advantage of it!" she laughed. I wasn't really sure what she meant. She was obviously suggesting I was doing more than house sitting, which, of course, was sometimes the case. But why she would have said that to me like that, within minutes of meeting me, was a little unusual. We talked for almost twenty minutes before she said she had to go. "I'm Pauline, by the way," she said as she left. When I, in turn, introduced myself, Pauline gave me a strange smile, saying, "Yes, I know." Then she left without further explanation. It wasn't until she was gone that it suddenly hit me who she was. She was the wife Eileen had been talking to. The one who had convinced Eileen it was okay to cheat on her husband if he was ignoring her needs. A few times in my talk with Eileen, she had almost let Pauline's name slip. Once I figured out who Pauline was, I wondered if Eileen had told her about our more recent encounters. I knew Pauline had been told about the first blow job Eileen gave me, but I had no way of knowing if Eileen had said more than that. I figured it would be best to assume that Pauline didn't know about everything Eileen had told me, including the fact that Eileen had pretty much given away Pauline's identity to me. So if I was going to pursue her, and I was thinking that I would, I'd have to be discrete. Yeah, I know that sounds ridiculous coming from a guy who posts descriptions of the blow jobs he's gotten on the internet. But I'm actually very discrete. Even if Pauline asked me flat out about Eileen, I would never give her a straight answer. And that's the smart thing for a guy like me to do. Women aren't going to be all that eager to suck my cock if they're worried about me blabbing about it. But whether Pauline knew about my conversation with Eileen or not, I did know that Eileen had at least told her about that first blow job. So Pauline had stood there chatting with me knowing that her married friend had sucked me off. I enjoyed thinking about that. To me, that made it seem like Pauline might be interested in a taste of me herself. I had finished up most of what I was doing around my friend's yard, but lingered on the last little bit. I was wondering if Pauline would go by again. Eventually, she did, but it wasn't exactly what I was hoping for. She drove by in a big SUV full of kids in soccer uniforms. She smiled and waved as she passed and I waved back. I figured that I'd run into Pauline again some time, maybe while taking AJ for a walk or something. So I got serious about finishing what I was doing in the yard and about fifteen minutes later, I was all but done. As I gathered up the tools I had been using, Pauline in her big SUV went down the street in the opposite direction and now only she was in it. I slowed my pace a little, just to see if she would go by again, but she didn't. I went inside, got a beer and forgot about Pauline for a little while. That was a Saturday and I had a date lined up for that night, so I really didn't have time to think about then. As an aside, the date was with a nice girl and we had a good time, but I never did wind up getting her to suck my cock. Oh, well. Can't win 'em all. I spent the night at my apartment, but came back to my friends' house early Sunday afternoon. As I took AJ for a walk around the neighborhood, I was thinking about Pauline. I wasn't entirely sure which house was hers, only the general area. I was pretty sure I had seen her and waved to her before, but I couldn't remember specifics. I walked AJ through the part of the neighborhood where I thought she lived, but didn't see her or her big SUV. Disappointed, I took AJ back to the house. I was almost at the driveway when I saw Pauline driving down the street in the direction of her house. I paused, planning to give her a wave and a smile as she went by. But to my surprise, she stopped beside me and put down the passenger side window. "Hi. What are you doing?" Pauline asked, leaning across the front seat. I shrugged non-committally. "Just walking the dog." She was looking around and I'm not positive she really heard me. She asked if I knew where a certain shopping center was and I told her I did. "Can you be there in about thirty, forty minutes?" she asked. It was a rather unexpected question, and I'm sure the surprise showed on my face. "I need to ask you something," she said. "But not here." I could see she was anxious to be on her way. Whatever she wanted to talk about, she didn't want to do it where her neighbors would see her. Knowing what I did about Pauline, I agreed to meet her. As I drove over, I couldn't help think about the location Pauline had chosen. It was an old shopping center that was part strip mall, part indoor mall. It was in a poorer part of town, half of its stores were empty and the other half was either discount stores or junk shops. It was a place that the people living in Pauline's upscale neighborhood were unlikely to visit. I also couldn't help thinking that this was looking too easy to be what I was hoping for. I wandered through the half-empty mall like a casual shopper, while keeping an eye out for Pauline. She was a little late and looked a bit flustered. She surprised me by coming directly over to me. I guess she knew from past experience that the place was safe for her purposes. "Hi. Sorry," she said, slightly out of breath. "Had to drop the kids at a game first. I've got about half an hour before I've got to go get them." Pauline turned to face a kiosk in the middle of the mall that sold ice cream. "That's enough time for you to buy me an ice cream cone." Before I could say more than "Hi" to her, we were sitting on a bench with a couple of ice cream cones. "So," Pauline said. "How's Eileen?" I gave her a blank look, eyebrows arched slightly. I like to think I have a pretty good poker face, but I couldn't be sure I didn't show a reaction to her unexpected question. "Come on," she said with a smile. "I know about it." Now Eileen had told me that she had confided at least partly in Pauline, but I had no way of knowing how much she had said. And if Eileen wanted to tell Pauline everything, that was her business. But it wasn't my secret to tell. "I don't know what you mean," I said to Pauline. She tilted her head and gave me disbelieving smirk. I gazed right back at her, unflinching. "Oooh," she said, with a sly wink. "You're good. But Eileen already told me everything." "If someone wants to tell you her business, that's up to them. But it wouldn't my place to say anything. Besides," I said, giving her a smirk of my own, "If she told you everything, why are you interrogating me?" "Think you're pretty smart?" she asked, still smiling. "Maybe I just want to hear your version." She gave her ice cream cone a lick and winked at me again. "I don't know what 'my version' means." I wasn't going to give in. I know it seems like a double standard: I'll describe in detail how a woman sucked my cock and put it up on the internet for anyone to read, but I wouldn't even acknowledge my encounters with Eileen to Pauline. But there's a huge difference. I am very careful to protect the identities of the women I write about. I don't use their real names and I avoid describing them in a way that would make them identifiable (like a birthmark or something). In other words, you could be a friend, co-worker or even a husband of one of the women I've written about and not know it. What Pauline was asking was for me to talk specifically about someone we both knew. That I wouldn't do. I wouldn't even, as in this case, confirm that anything had happened, though I had been told by Eileen that Pauline knew at least part of the story. "Uh huh," Pauline knew I was lying. "So, why won't you tell me?" "Tell you what?" I said, looking with a level gaze into her eyes. "You know," Pauline said in an exaggerated whisper. "Was she good?" "Good?" "You're hopeless!" she said in mock exasperation, giving me a playful punch in the arm. "You know," now Pauline's voice did drop to a whisper. "Does she, uh... you know, give good head?" I turned and looked at Pauline, my eyes open wide in feigned surprise. "What makes you think I'd know?" "'Cause she told me you would!" Pauline replied, shouting in a whisper. We sat there eating our ice cream cones in silence for a few minutes. "Well?" Pauline persisted. "Well what?" "God, you're impossible! Why won't you just tell me? I obviously already know!" "If Eileen wants to tell you her personal business, that's up to her. I have no comment. Two reasons," I continued, holding up my hand to keep Pauline from interrupting. "First, it's not for me to talk about someone else's business. Second, if," I paused for emphasis. "If I was the kind of guy to mess around with a married woman, it would be damn foolish of me to go around talking about it. Don't you agree?" Pauline sat back and rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. "Well, at least you're discrete," she said. "That's good." "Why is that good?" I asked and turned to look at her. She shrugged and raised her eyebrows knowingly. "I don't know. Just seems like a good thing to know." We finished our ice cream without saying much more. Pauline looked at her watch. "Well, got to go pick up my soccer stars," she said and stood up. "Thanks for the ice cream." Then she slipped a piece of paper into my hand and walked away without looking back. I watcher her go, admiring the sexy bounce of her stride. I noticed that the shoes she was wearing had a higher heel than you'd expect a mom on her way to a soccer game to have on. They made her nicely shaped ass sway invitingly as she walked. After she had gone, I glanced down at the slip of paper she had handed me. I already knew what it was: her email address. I stood up, slipped it into my pocket and left. While it's tough to be positive about something like that, I was feeling pretty sure that I was going to be putting my cock into Pauline's mouth in the not-too-distant future. One giveaway was the choice of this half empty mall for our meeting. Then there was the subject of our brief conversation--Eileen giving me a blow job. The last clue was the email address she gave me. It was from a free email provider and the address itself gave no hint as to her identity. I was certain that her husband didn't know about it. I filed all of this information away in my brain as I left the mall. I would certainly write Pauline an email and see where things went. Thinking about those generous lips of hers, I knew where I was hoping things would go. Or, more specifically, I knew where I was hoping my cock would go--between those luscious lips. I sent Pauline a bland nice-talking-to-you email that night. Very generic, in case the wrong person were to read it. It was more just to give her my email address and see what she had to say to me. I got a reply around lunchtime the following day. Pauline had apparently not given up hope of getting me to talk about Eileen, but she had changed her tactics. "You're a nice, good-looking guy. I can see why Eileen really likes you." Pauline wrote. I responded by asking why she kept asking about Eileen. What was she hoping to hear me say? I got a reply rather quickly. I wasn't surprised. The middle of the day when the kids were at school and her husband at work would be the ideal time for her to send email discreetly. "I know she gave you a blow job!" was Pauline's reply. "And I want to hear about it! ;)" "Why?" was all I wrote back. "Because if you knew Eileen like I do, you'd be amazed that she did anything even remotely like that. I have to hear about it and she's not very good at talking about it." "If someone wants to tell you their personal business, that's up to them," I wrote back. "How would you feel if it was Eileen asking these questions about you?" "There wouldn't be anything to tell." Pauline replied. "Or would there? ;)" "Other than the way you lick an ice cream cone, there isn't much to tell." "Come on!" Pauline persisted. "Tell me about what she did!! PLEASE????" I was getting bored with Pauline and her nosey questions. I had thought there might be an opportunity with her, but I didn't really feel like working for it at the moment, blow job lips or not. I fired back an email that I hoped would either get things going or at least get her to stop bugging me about Eileen. The Collector 13 "I have some questions of my own," I wrote back. "Do you squat or kneel? Spit or swallow?" I hit send and waited a few minutes. When no reply was forthcoming, I went back to doing what I was doing. I might have ruined any chance I had with Pauline, but at that moment I didn't really care. That may sound rash on my part, but let me explain. As turned on as I was looking at her ass and thinking about her supple lips on my shaft the day before, I was equally put off by her insistence on getting me to gossip. I have no time for that and I don't have a lot of patience for people who do. I was pleasantly surprised when, about an hour later, I got a reply from Pauline that didn't include any mention of Eileen. "Some things you just have to find out on your own." she wrote. I kicked around how to reply for a few minutes before I decided to be blunt. I really didn't want to trade emails with her if she was just fishing for dirt on her friend. On the other hand, if she was actually interested, we might as well cut to the chase. "Ok. When?" "Wow! You don't fool around." "No. Do you?" "I might." "Ok. When?" Frankly, I wasn't all that into this conversation and thought I had given her a shit-or-get-off-the-pot three emails ago. Really, when I think back, Pauline was playing along the same as many other women had. It was probably only her nagging me about Eileen that had me irritated. I'm damn lucky I didn't ruin a good blow job with my terse replies. As it turned out, Pauline had made up her mind before she had given me her email address. The email sparring we did, and it lasted several days, was just her way of setting things up without having to come right out and tell me what she wanted. Even when she made a date with me, she was vague with her words. "I can answer your questions at lunchtime tomorrow." Pauline finally wrote. I assumed that she was referring to my blunt questions from our first email exchanges. Suddenly, I forgot all the things about our earlier conversations that had irritated me. All I could think about was Pauline's deliciously tantalizing lips engulfing my throbbing cock. It took several more emails, all equally vague, to nail down the details of our rendezvous. She would meet me at my apartment at lunchtime. She emphasized that I had to get there first. She didn't want to be seen waiting outside. If no one was home when she arrived, she wasn't going to hang around. And she didn't want to be seen walking in with me either. All of this took quite a while to say in her indirect way and I almost got annoyed again. But the thought of her pearly white smile looking up at me, her lovely lips opening to accept me, well, it was enough to get me through those last few emails. Being a housewife with school-age kids and a working husband, the middle of the day was the perfect time for Pauline. It wasn't as perfect for me, but I told my boss I had scheduled a doctor appointment for lunchtime the next day and I might be gone a couple hours. The boss never raised an eyebrow. The next day at quarter to twelve I was standing in my living room, peeking through the drawn blinds waiting for Pauline to show up. Ten minutes later, her big SUV pulled up and she hurried up to the door. She knocked and opened the door at the same time, stepped inside quickly and closed the door behind her. "Hi," Pauline said, with a smile that was more like a leer. "Why are you still dressed?" I was a bit surprised she said that, given the indirect mannerisms of her emails. I guess she was worried about incriminating evidence, not wanting to put anything compromising in writing. In person, however, she didn't seem to have a problem with being direct. "In a hurry?" I asked. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming of seeing that body of yours?" she answered with a nervous laugh. "That works both ways," I said, eyeing her petite figure. Pauline smiled and, with a shrug, pulled her top over her head and tossed it on the floor. "Your turn," she said, standing there in her jeans and a bra. I was surprised again at how quickly she was coming on, but not so surprised that I didn't take off my own shirt. I had to remind myself that Pauline was an experienced adulteress. She knew what she wanted and knew she didn't have time to waste once it was in front of her. A minute later we were facing each other completely naked. We stood a few feet apart, each admiring the other's body, but for a long moment, neither of us moved closer. Pauline looked as good as I had imagined. Her breasts weren't large, but they were big for a woman her size. They had a little droop to them, but not much. Her nipples were hard pencil erasers. Her slender waist and generous hips ran down to her smooth, supple thighs. Nestled between them was a neatly trimmed triangle of dark pubic hair. She stood with her legs apart and I thought I caught a glimpse of moisture glistening between them. Pauline's eyes traveled over my body the same as mine had hers. Things had happened so quickly that I wasn't fully aroused yet, but I felt myself stiffening under her watchful gaze. As she stared at my hardening cock, I could hear her draw in a breath. Her lips smacked ever so lightly, like her mouth was watering. The way she focused on my cock was turning me on, and without either of us touching it, my pole extended until it was pointing right at her. "Oh," Pauline breathed softly. She took a step toward me and cupped my hard cock in her hand. "Oooh." A tremor of pleasure shook her body for a moment as she squeezed me gently. Her other hand ran lightly over my chest and arms, down my back and caressed my ass. Her brown eyes turned to look up at me and a smile came slowly to her face. "So," she asked, and I heard something in her voice that reminded me of our conversation at the shopping mall. "Did Eileen do it like this?" Before I could reply, even before her mention of Eileen had a chance to irk me, she stooped down until her face was level with my cock. As I watched, Pauline's luscious red lips parted and the head of my shaft slid between them. Pauline's lips traveled half way down my member and back up again, slowly, sensually. Her lips were every bit as warm and soft on the skin of my cock as I had imagined. She let me slip out of her mouth, massaging the underside of my head with her tongue. "Did she do it like that?" Pauline asked. She was squatting before me, my hard shaft in her hand, looking up at me. She was waiting for me to answer. "I'm guessing you know more about sucking cock than she ever will," I replied. Pauline smiled, maybe at the evasiveness of my answer, and sucked me slowly a few more times. "I'm going to get you to tell me," she said between mouthfuls. "No, you're not," I answered as I enjoyed the warmth of her mouth surrounding my cock. "If you want me to finish what I've started, you will." She gave me a playful smile and wink before taking me deep into her mouth. She bobbed slowly, going down far enough for me to feel my cock press against the back of her throat. She went all the way down like that a half dozen times before she stopped and stood up. "So, when would you like me to continue?" Pauline asked, pressing her body against mine and running a finger along the underside of my cock. "Whenever you feel like it," I said, hoping I sounded casual; that my voice didn't betray how much I wanted her to suck me like that again right now. "Tell me," Pauline said, giving my straining cock a light squeeze. Trying to look bored, I shook my head. I felt her fingernails gliding lightly over my balls. It took a huge effort not to react. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me and I'll suck your cock dry right now." Now there's no denying I was very turned on at the thought of those fabulous lips closing around my aching cock again. And ordinarily, I wouldn't mind a woman using her cock sucking ability to get what she wanted from me. But I have principles and I wasn't about to compromise them, even for a pair of lips as fine as Pauline's. What Eileen and I had done together was none of Pauline's business, and if it cost me a great blow job to demonstrate that, I was prepared. Well, maybe I was prepared for the worst, but I was not about to give up on Pauline just yet. When I didn't reply, Pauline looked at me and raised her eyebrow, as if I had issued a challenge. She ran her fingers down my chest as she squatted down in front of me again. My cock was mere inches from her mouth and it was killing me. But Pauline was in no hurry. Her finger ran under the head of my cock, wiping away a bead of precum that had leaked from me. She licked it off of her finger and opened her mouth wide. She formed her mouth into an "O", as if she had them around my shaft, and bobbed in the air an inch or two from my tortured member. "Don't you want to put that in my mouth?" she purred. "Hmmmm?" Her tongue darted out and briefly licked under my head. I stood like a statue, looking into her eyes without saying a word. I love having my cock sucked, especially by a woman who knows how. And I suspected that Pauline really knew how to pleasure a man with her mouth. But I said nothing. Pauline only smiled. "Come on," she prodded. "Tell me how she sucked your cock. This thick, delicious cock of yours." Pauline paused and took me briefly into her mouth again for emphasis. "And then we can get down to business." Another quick but wrenching suck. When I still didn't speak, Pauline sat down on the floor and laid back, spreading her legs in front of me. Her fingers gently and deliberately spread the lips of her pussy as she moaned softly. "Maybe it's not sucking you want," she said. I could see her fingers getting wet with her pussy juices as she touched herself. She threw her head back, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she moaned again. She was leaning back on one elbow, legs spread so invitingly as she continued running her fingers lightly over herself. My cock was straining as I took it all in. I was getting tired of the game and wanted to get on with whatever we were going to do. But I was also determined that Pauline wouldn't win this contest. I bent down and picked up my underwear and started to put it back on. "What are you doing?" Pauline asked. "If the only way is for me to tell you, well..." I shrugged. "Then I guess nothing's going to happen. I've got to get back to work." I started to pull up my underwear. "Not so fast!" Pauline said as she scrambled over to me, her hands preventing me from pulling on my clothes. I let her pull my underwear back down and I stepped out of it, noticing that she was on her knees, my cock once again almost in her face. "You've got to give me a chance to negotiate." I shook my head. "No negotiations. If that's the way it's going to be, you might as well let me get dressed." I took my cock in hand and rubbed it gently against her cheek. Pauline looked up at me, the slightest bit of smile on her face. Then she plunged my shaft deep into her mouth a dozen times, quickly but sensually. Again I felt the head of my cock pounding against the back of her throat. "Nothing's going to change your mind?" she asked as she let my straining erection slip from between her full lips. She ran her tongue under it a few times and squeezed me lightly with her hand. "Nothing?" She smiled up at me sweetly. I shook my head again, steadying myself before trying to speak. I didn't want her to hear what kind of effect she was having on me with those perfect cocksucking lips. "If you came here for gossip," I told her, speaking slowly to keep my voice steady. "You came to the wrong place. If there's something else you want," gripping my rod, I rubbed it under her chin, "then let's get to it." Pauline sat back on her heels, looking first at my rock hard member, then up at my face. She seemed to be debating with herself. I figured that she really wanted my cock in her mouth and pussy in the worst way, but wasn't sure if she wanted it enough to back down. She clearly relished using her feminine charms to get what she wanted and didn't want to be denied. Ordinarily, I would play along with a woman like Pauline, because it's usually worth it. But I'm not one for having my fun at the expense of someone else, so there wasn't really any choice for me. If she had picked something else, we could have had a fun little tit-for-tat. Oh, well. Pauline leaned forward and took me deep into her mouth again. She went as far down as she could, taking in almost all of me. My head was pressed hard against the back of her throat as she held herself down on my shaft. I could feel her tongue undulating along the pulsing vein in my cock. She forced her head down still harder, her nose touching my stomach. She must have continued pressing me into her throat for close to a minute before she finally backed off, taking a deep breath as she did. "Are you sure you don't want more of that?" Pauline asked. I looked into her eyes and I was pretty sure that she wasn't going to leave while my cock was still hard. I looked at my watch and shook my head. "I'm going to have to get back to work soon. If you want this," I waggled my cock at her, "then let's get to it." Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked down the hall to my bedroom. I laid down on my bed and waited. A moment later Pauline came in and joined me on the bed. She laid next to me and kissed my chest while her small hand wrapped itself around my cock and pumped it slowly. "Why can't you just tell me?" she asked, almost in a whine. "I don't know if I can wait any longer." When she said that, I knew I had won. She wanted my cock more than she wanted gossip. The gossip may have only been an excuse to tease me, perhaps excercise power over me in the first place. Whatever the reason, I knew I had cleared that hurdle and I would be going back to work a satisfied man. I ran my fingers over her breasts, gently pinching each hardened nipple. Pauline gave a little gasp of pleasure at my touch. I continued down her body, tracing lines across her belly to the top of her bikini line and back up again. I could tell by her breathing that she was almost to the point where she wouldn't wait any longer. I gently kneaded her breasts. They were warm and soft in my hand. Pauline's hips gyrated, pressing her pussy against me as I massaged her. I stopped for a moment, watching her. She was lying on her side, her eyes were closed and her body was still moving to the rhythm of my caresses. When she realized I had paused, her eyes opened. Looking right into her soft brown eyes, I slipped a finger between her thighs and up to her moistened pussy lips. She cried out and rolled onto her back, her arm knocking a bunch of stuff off of the night stand. Her thighs spread apart, inviting me to go further. She was so wet, I knew I could make her cum using just my finger. But I had other ideas. I positioned myself between her legs and rubbed the head of my cock gently against her wet opening. She was almost whimpering in anticipation. Slowly, I let the head sink into her, but only the head. Then I pulled back and resumed rubbing her with my rod. Her hips squirmed, trying to get me inside her, but still I just rubbed against her. When I finally laid on top of her and slid inside, she was so wet that I plunged all the way in effortlessly. I held myself deep in her, not moving while she moaned and thrashed on the bed underneath me. Then I started sliding my rod all the way out and all the way back in, very deliberately. At the same time I pushed her thighs up with my arms so I penetrated her more deeply. It took only a few minutes for her to cry out in orgasm. When she came, I withdrew and began rubbing my cock against her pussy lips again until she stopped trembling from her orgasm. Then, without warning, I plunged back into her and began to fuck her hard and fast. Within ten minutes she came again, and I slowed down a little. I made sure to take it all the way out before sinking it all the way into her again. Pauline was quivering with each thrust, moaning and writhing on the bed. "Oh, God," she cried out. "You're going to make me cum again!" Then she moaned and shook as she had her third orgasm. I paused, holding my cock deep in her until her ecstasy subsided a little and she managed to catch her breath. I was still rock hard inside her, savoring the warmth of her dripping pussy. I started gyrating my hips with my cock buried deep inside her. It had the desired effect. She started to moan and buck under me again. Of course, this is a blow job journal, so why am I describing a fuck, right? Well, when I said I had something else in mind, I wasn't just talking about fucking her. I was hoping to really rock Pauline's world; get her off so well that she would be ready to do anything for me. Specifically, I wanted her to suck me off after I finished giving her a good fucking. I don't know if this was my way of paying her back for trying to get me to talk about Eileen, or what. But something told me that Pauline was the kind of woman that would suck off a man after he gave her a good fucking. I get very turned on just thinking about taking my cock, still dripping with a woman's juices, and putting it in her mouth; thinking about her tasting herself and then my cum. I don't know why that should be such a turn-on for me. The only thing I can think of is that a lot of the women I've been with either won't do it or don't like to do it. For example, Cheri, a woman who sucked my cock almost daily and always swallowed every drop of my cum, would always wait until after I got a shower to go down on me again after we had had sex. I don't know if I just thought Pauline was a woman who would do it and not mind, or if I thought she wouldn't like it, and the thrill was to get her to do it anyway. Whatever the reason, I was thinking about it as I withdrew my cock from her steamy pussy and left her lying quivering beside me. Pauline was still trying to catch her breath when I got out of bed and stood beside her. She opened her eyes and looked up at me with a blissful smile. Her hand reached out to stroke my cock. When she touched it, her gaze shifted from my face to my crotch as she saw that I was still hard; that I hadn't cum yet. I stood right at the edge of the bed and when Pauline looked up at me, I nodded toward my erection, silently indicating she should do something about it. She raised her eyebrows, smiling up at me a bit uncertainly. I just nodded again. Taking me gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, she leaned across the bed and gave my head a tentative suck. Then she took me in a little deeper, like someone trying some exotic food for the first time. She was still lying on her back, legs spread, and my eyes feasted on her beautiful body. Her head was turned sideways as she leaned to the edge of the bed to suck me and I had an excellent view of those lips closing around my shaft. While it's probably not the most comfortable position for a woman to suck cock, it is one of the most visually stimulating for me. In some ways it's better than watching in a mirror, because, while I still get to watch her lips travel up and down my shaft, I also get to see her splayed out in all her naked splendor. With a woman with a body as hot as Pauline's, this can be pretty stimulating. There's another reason it's a good position. A woman leaning over like that can't bend her back, so all of her cocksucking motion has to come from her neck. In my opinion a woman with good cocksucking form should hold her back and shoulders stationary and bob using only her neck. Being on her back forces a woman to do it this way and also gives me a fantastic view of that motion as well as her lips sliding up and down my rod. Pauline slowly warmed up to sucking my cock, bobbing a little deeper and a little faster. The Collector 13 The way she was laying kept her from being able to suck me the way she had earlier, but the view I had more than made up for it. I savored the way her gorgeous lips looked as her mouth slid up my shaft, dragging them along my saliva-covered member. I let her suck me that way for a few minutes before I backed away from the bed a couple of feet. Pauline looked up at me, probably confused by my unexpected retreat. I just stood there looking at her, my cock still pointed right at her face. So she slid over on the bed, leaned out and took me in her mouth again. Now I didn't have as good a view of the action, so I only waited a minute or two before backing up further. I was far enough away now that she couldn't stay in the bed and reach me. She must have understood what I was doing, because she smiled and laughed. "You aren't going to get away," she said as she got out of the bed and down onto her knees. She looked up at me as her small hand wrapped around my cock, her smile stunningly beautiful. She bent her head down over my shaft and began sucking me deeply and steadily. Once again I felt those fabulous lips taking me almost all the way down, my cock pressing against the back of her throat. Pauline was on her knees with my cock in her mouth, which was what I intended when I backed away from the bed. I don't know if she knew I wanted to see her on her knees or if it was her preference. Either way was fine with me. Her form wasn't exactly what I like, which is with knees together and sitting back on her heels. She had her knees about a foot apart and she was upright, so her mouth was coming down on my cock from above. I didn't have a mirror lined up, so all I could see was her blonde hair dancing as her head bobbed up and down on my shaft. I wasn't much to look at, but her lips were warm and wrapped tightly around my throbbing cock. Pauline's strokes were deep, taking in most of me each time. And though her pace was rather fast, there was still a very sensual feel. It wasn't the hurry-up-and-cum bobbing that some women do, the kind of thing that feels more like masturbation than a blow job. No, Pauline's lips moved quickly, but with skill. The wave of my orgasm began building up and I knew it wouldn't take long for her to suck it out of me. Pauline paused every once in a while to impale herself on me before resuming her deep sucking. Those moments had as much to do with my orgasm as the sucking itself. I love having a woman cram as much of my cock into her mouth as she can. I love feeling the head of my cock squeezed against the back of her throat. So many women gag when they have a man that deep in their mouths. When I find one that can take it deep like that, it's always a thrill. Like I said, Pauline's bobbing was deep and sensual and driving me crazy and her burying my cock in the back of her throat was an incredible turn on. I wish I could have seen her from the side as she did that; watched her lips stretch to the bottom of my rod, her nose press against my stomach. But even without seeing it, I didn't last long. It wasn't ten minutes before I erupted, my back arching as my cock swelled and pumped my load into her mouth. Pauline kept sucking as I came, wringing a couple additional spurts from my shaft. Her bobbing continued a little longer, though not as deep. I guess her mouth was too full of my cum to bob as far down as she had before. By the time she let me slip from her mouth, my erection was beginning to fade. She gave me another couple of licks, cleaning me thoroughly, before getting up and ducking into the bathroom. While I didn't actually see or hear her spit, I knew that's what Pauline was doing. Yeah, I was disappointed. When she had been lying naked on the bed sucking me, I had looked at her flat stomach, thinking that it would soon be full of my cum. But I was wrong. Pauline came back into the bedroom, wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me against her naked body. I could tell by the way my cock felt against her belly that I could be ready to go again pretty quickly. It didn't happen though. She kissed me and said something about kids coming home from school soon. Then she hurried out to the living room, gathered up her clothes, got dressed and left. But she didn't leave before telling me I had given her some of the best sex she had had in a long time. "God, I'd do that again tomorrow," she said. "You've got such a great cock. No wonder Eileen wants to go down on you again!" On one hand, I was mildly irritated at her mention of Eileen. On the other, I was pretty mellow, having just dumped my load in this little beauty's mouth. Also, I was intrigued that Eileen had told Pauline that she wanted to suck my cock again. I couldn't help wondering if Eileen had said that before or after the second batch of blow jobs she had given me. "Maybe you should bring her with you next time," I suggested. "Maybe you could get your questions answered that way." Pauline laughed. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" "I'm willing to share if you are," I replied with a smile. The way Pauline looked at me before she left led me to believe she would be willing to. The only question was if Eileen would go for it. I'll keep you posted. Anyway, the scorecard for Pauline: Part of me says nine, another part says nine point five, so let's compromise and call it a nine and a quarter. Yeah, that sounds like I'm splitting hairs, and I realize that my scoring is somewhat inconsistent and entirely subjective, here's how I see it. First, Pauline had fabulous cocksucking lips and a wonderfully deep and sensual technique. She's also that rare woman that can press a cock against the back of her throat without gagging. So definitely high marks in the category of ability. She also looked great laying naked on my bed as I watched those perfect lips work their magic on me. Yeah, I generally like women to dress up to suck my cock, but a beautiful woman like Pauline laying there naked like that works pretty well too. Especially when the way she's laying gives me both a great view of her body and what her mouth is doing to my cock. At the start of things, she was squatting, not kneeling, for which I'd be tempted to deduct points. But when she finished me off, she was on her knees, like a good cocksucking woman should be. But her form wasn't exactly what I'd call perfect. I think a woman should be on her knees, her knees should be together and her feet should be pointed straight out behind her. I prefer it when a woman is sitting back on her heels, so she's looking up at my cock. The way Pauline was upright is still better than squatting, but the problem is then she's coming at my cock from above and all I can see is the back of her head. In Pauline's case I figure that, while I'd rather at least be able to see a little, the way she took me all the way down was pretty good. If there was some reason she needed to be at that angle to swallow all of my cock, then it was worth not being able to see. Then there was the way she sucked my cock after I had fucked her, her juices practically dripping from my shaft. I don't know if it was something she would do anyway, or if it was just because I had just given her a good fucking and at least three orgasms. Either way, it's always a turn on to take my cock out of a woman's pussy and then have her take it into her mouth and make me cum. A bonus point for Pauline for figuring out that I wanted her to get out of the bed and finish the job on her knees too. Then there was the spitting. Yeah, I'm always a little disappointed when a woman doesn't swallow my cum. Even though she gave me an excellent sucking, it's somehow diminished by the fact she didn't leave with my sperm in her belly. It shouldn't matter, but it does. The one other issue, the one that keeps me from giving her a nine point five, was the whole Eileen thing. I am not going to be indiscrete about what a woman chooses to do with me. That may sound ridiculous since I'm posting all the details of the blow jobs these women have given me. But that's done anonymously. If I were to tell Pauline about Eileen, it wouldn't be anonymous. That I wouldn't do. I like a woman who is playful and wants to use the power of her cocksucking to play games with me. I just wish Pauline had chosen a topic that I would have been able to go along with. But then, Pauline's obsession with her friend's cocksucking is the sort of thing I could be able to use to my advantage. ;) The Collector 14 I'm going to do something a little different for this entry. Several people have noted that with all the good and great blow jobs I've gotten, I must have gotten a few bad ones as well. Yes, there have been a few clunkers and plenty of mediocre ones. For obvious reasons, I haven't written about any of these. But apparently at least a few people are interested in hearing about bad ones too. Since I realize that these people probably don't represent a majority of readers (and since it's not nearly as much fun reliving a bad blow job), I'm going to make this entry a brief collage of some of the bad head I've gotten. I don't know if I'm writing this for those people who slow down and look when they drive past a car wreck, or for the women who want to know what not to do with a cock in their mouths, but here it is. For those of you who aren't interested in bad blow jobs, I'll keep this as brief as possible. I'll get another regular entry posted soon for your sakes. In the interest of keeping it brief, I'm going to cut right to the chase. As you know, I usually like to give you some background on each woman and explain how they came to be sucking my cock in the first place. It helps build up the anticipation of the act and it's always more interesting if know something about the woman doing the deed. But there's not really any point in building up anticipation to what I've already told you will be a bunch of bad blow jobs. So... Bad BJ number one was a huge disappointment, primarily because there was a lot of anticipation on my part. Carla was a big email flirt and not shy about telling me the things she wanted to do to me, often in great detail. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as it turned out), she was ready and willing to put her mouth where her email was. We had been out a couple times for drinks, and she was a reasonably attractive woman. A little on the skinny side, but a nice body. Her face was pretty and she seemed to have an okay sense of humor (which I've found is really kind of important). At any rate, I had taken a little time to get to know her before the emails got hot and heavy, so I was very much looking forward to Carla going down on me. We went to her apartment after our third date and everything cool right up to the minute we got down to business. First, Carla wasn't much of a kisser. That is, we kissed a lot, but she either wasn't very into it, or just wasn't good at it. There just was no passion in it at all. As we made out, I naturally let my hands roam over her body, but I just got the sense that I wasn't turning her on. Carla continued to make out with me, but I just never felt like she was getting hot. Things didn't progress the way she had indicated in her email. In fact, they hardly progressed at all. Finally, I undid my fly and put her hand on me. Even then, she didn't really take any initiative. I eventually had to take it out for her as well. Without looking at me at all, Carla leaned over and put the tip of my cock in her mouth. She made a couple of very shallow bobs on it, never getting much more than the head into her mouth. She held me near the base with her thumb and forefinger, in kind of a pinching grip. Then she gave a few short licks on either side of my shaft before bobbing a little more on just the head. At this point, I was starting to wonder what had happened to the way she described how she planned to do things. She had been very descriptive. "I want to kneel naked in front of you while you rub your fat cock all over my face." "I'm going to caress your balls with my tongue while I slowly pump you with my hand." "I'm going to suck you so deep, you'll beg me to let you unload in my mouth." These were only a few of the things she had written to me leading up to this night. Now, as I sat on her couch, all she was doing was some tentative, shallow bobbing that was so uninspired I was in danger of losing my erection. I didn't really know what to make of the situation. I guessed she sensed my restlessness because she suddenly started bobbing deeper and faster. It was kind of a strange thing though. Just before she did, I felt like she had taken a deep breath or something. Like a person about to jump into a swimming pool would. The deeper bobbing still wasn't very deep, taking in less than half of me. And making matters worse, she was going at a cartoon-like pace, which was about as un-sensual a thing as I can imagine. She slowed down pretty quickly. It was just too ridiculous a pace to keep up. But the resulting sucking was still without any passion or sensuality. It was like I stuck my cock in an automatic sucking machine, and one that was set for small dicks at that. One good thing about having gotten so many good blow jobs is that it gives me something to think about while I'm getting a bad or mediocre one. As Carla bobbed listlessly on my shaft, I relived in my mind some of the better blow jobs I had gotten. Fortunately, those still turned me on enough that I managed to cum before Carla did anything to screw things up. She didn't swallow and in fact she didn't even suck me at all after I came, so I wound up tucking a dripping cock back into my pants. She was also a very different person to me afterward than before. I don't know how to explain the change, but it was clear she expected me to leave. I don't know if she wanted me to leave, but she definitely expected it. Okay, as far as bad blow jobs go, this one is right down there near the bottom. Ordinarily, I'd score this one about a two or three. But the disappointment after all Carla's talk knocks it down to about a one and a half. About the only thing she did right was to not stop before I came. I don't understand how a woman can talk the talk so well and then completely fail to deliver even a portion of the goods. I think that maybe she loved the attention she got (via email) from me when she was talking like that. And maybe she preferred the virtual sex of explicit emails to the deed itself. But she didn't really make me work that hard to get her to actually blow me, so I have trouble believing that was it. There's also the possibility that she was just inexperienced, but, again, I don't think that was it. She was in her mid-to-late twenties, which I know is no guarantee. But the way she talked and described what she planned to do... I don't know. I guess it's possible a woman can know how to describe a great blow job but not have a clue as to how to actually give one. But it just doesn't seem likely. I put the whole thing down to a woman who wanted a man's attention and went about it the wrong way. If she didn't really want to suck my cock, that's fine. I don't think any less of a woman who says no. If she didn't want to blow me, she shouldn't have written those emails. And if inexperience was her problem, she should have just been up front about it. I prefer women who know what they're doing, naturally, but wouldn't reject a woman or hurt her feelings about her lack of experience. Basically, I think Carla was just not being herself, pretending to be someone else to get attention. That's never the best way to go about things. Bad blow job number two was from Hailey. She was a friend of another woman I had met on an internet dating site. Things between me and the friend never really took off, and she wound up fixing me up with her friend Hailey. Hailey was several years older than me, late thirties, had wavy dirty blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. She had a decent body for her age, but nothing to write home about. Her breasts were a little saggy and her ass had that flat look that comes from spending too many hours sitting in a chair. But she had a very pretty face, nice eyes and overall, was a very attactive woman. Now her friend and I never got past first base, so neither of them really knew me to be a player. Hailey apparently didn't date much herself and so it took a while for things to heat up between us. It was several dates before I ever saw her apartment and a couple more dates beyond that before anything more serious than some heavy petting took place. We were on her sofa, watching a movie with some wine and popcorn when we started making out. We had made out a few times before and it was pretty good. This time I was more aggressive than I had been in the past, getting my hands up under Hailey's bra to caress and pinch her nipples and running my fingers up between her thighs to rub her pussy through her slacks. Things kept going and getting hotter, so naturally I kept going. I got Hailey's top and bra off and had one breast in my hand, the other in my mouth. Hailey was writhing and moaning as I kissed, licked and massaged her breasts. Encouraged, I slipped a hand to the top of her pants and rubbed her belly softly before sliding my fingers under. My hand slid under her panties as I reached further down her pants. I could feel her wriggling under me and I knew I could make her cum with my fingers. Suddenly, Hailey squirmed out from under me and grabbed my arms and told me we needed to slow things down a bit. Okay, I don't want anything that's not freely offered, so I went back to caressing her breasts and eventually worked my way back to rubbing her mound through her pants again. When I undid the button on her pants, she stood up and stood up fast. Now I pretty much know how the game works. Hailey was obviously getting turned on and getting into what I was doing, but at the same time things were going a little faster than she was ready for. I knew I had been pushing her a bit that night, seeing just how far I could get. And I knew she was not likely to let me get very far. She was, I don't want to say prudish or uptight, but call it sexually conservative. Anyway, I figured I had better slow down because Hailey didn't seem ready to go any further. So after she put her top back on, we sat and watched some more of the movie. I left it up to her to start things up again and eventually she and I started making out again. But once my hands got anywhere near her pussy, she stopped me. Now, I'm human and I can get frustrated like anyone else. I had been patient, but getting the door slammed on you a half dozen times in a row had worn me down. I was thinking we should probably call it a night when she started kissing me again. We got into it hot and heavy for the umpteenth time. This time when I got my hand on her crotch, she let me rub it for a while, moaning encouragingly the whole time. But as soon as I tried to slip my fingers down in there to feel that hot wetness, she pulled my hand away. Instead of getting up or moving away from me though, she started kissing her way down my chest to my stomach. When she got to my pants, she fumbled around for quite a while before finally wrestling my stiff cock out. She brushed her hair back behind her ears, bent over on the sofa and started giving me a very timid sucking. She didn't go down very far when she bobbed and she paused often. After a few minutes, she stopped and asked me if I had a condom. Now I have to admit, I lied when I said I didn't. The reason is simple: I assumed if I had a condom, we would wind up fucking. Now that would have been all well and good, but she had been putting my cock in her mouth and I wanted her to keep on sucking it. Turns out my assumption was wrong anyway. She didn't want to fuck, but she didn't want to suck me without a condom either. The compromise was that I wouldn't cum in her mouth. Yeah, that was a mood spoiler for me. I went along with it and when I got close I told her and she finished me off with her hand. She practically ran to the bathroom to wash off her hand and bring back a washcloth to clean everything up. Everything about her actions just seemed to say that the whole thing was very distasteful, pardon the pun, to her. As you can probably guess, she didn't give me a good blow job. I don't know if she didn't trust me and was worried that I'd cum in her mouth, or if she just didn't like having cock in her mouth at all. But it was tentative, halting and a little frustrating. And as for jacking me off for a finish, I don't need a woman to do that for me. If she's not going to do something for me that I can't do for myself, what's the point? The bottom line is Hailey, for whatever reason, clearly was not giving me head because she really wanted to, or really enjoyed it. She sucked my cock like it was a chore. I guess she did it as much to avoid having sex as anything, but I almost would have rather gone home unsatisfied. The willingness of a woman to do what it takes to please a man is one of the major reasons blow jobs are so wonderful in the first place. Take that away and all you have is a mediocre way of popping a guy's top. And guys already have one of those. Score her a one. A woman who doesn't go down on a man because she wants to is never going to give a good blow job. And if putting a cock in her mouth, or the taste of cum or anything else about it is going to put her off, then she really doesn't like giving head enough to be doing it in the first place. Carla and Hailey were bad blow jobs because their hearts weren't in it. In my opinion, sucking a man's cock is one of the more intimate and passionate things a woman can do. The half-hearted approach of these two women pretty much guaranteed they wouldn't give good head. And for any woman who thinks that she gave good head if the man cums, these two cases should set things straight. I'm a man. I want to cum. It feels good to cum. That doesn't mean that a blow job that made me cum was necessarily good. If I'm getting bad head, I can think about something else to help me get off. Anyway, those first two blow jobs were plain bad because the women giving them didn't really want my cock in their mouths in the first place. At least, that's how it seemed to me. And if that's the way it seems, then that's probably how it was. It's a pretty obvious difference between women who suck cock because they enjoy it and those who do it because they feel like they should, or they have to or any other non-reason like that. The next couple of women that I want to add to my Hall of Lame weren't unwilling or unenthusiastic. They were just bad at sucking cock. Their technique was either ineffective or just plain painful. They're the kind of women that might have, with some coaching, become good cocksuckers. But apparently they never got it. Neither one was all that young--both were mid-thirties--and neither showed any hesitation at taking me into their mouths. I can only assume that they had given plenty of head before, just to men who either were afraid to discourage them by criticizing or were so happy to have a woman suck them at all that they didn't complain. Anyway, Daphne certainly had no lack of enthusiasm. She was a cute redhead with a bubbly personality and lots of energy. She was the kind of woman who is easy-going and playful in bed, which I really like. But unfortunately, she wasn't good at giving head. She put a lot of effort into it. That wasn't the problem. The problem was her teeth. For whatever reason, when she sucked my cock, her teeth ripped into me quite a bit. And with all her enthusiasm, she bobbed quite vigorously, only making it hurt worse. Now when a woman's teeth dig into me, I've found that moving around, changing positions even slightly, can sometimes reduce or eliminate the problem. But I couldn't find any way to make Daphne's teeth stop tearing at my member. I could feel her teeth were rubbing against me in a few different places, which is probably why shifting around didn't solve the problem. I don't know if she just didn't have her mouth opened wide enough, or if she didn't bob straight down my shaft. It wasn't just how rapidly she bobbed, which is something causes a lot of women to get a little sloppy with their technique and can result in some teeth marks. Even when Daphne went slower, she managed to catch me with her teeth, although not quite as badly as when she was going at it full steam. We tried it with Daphne on her knees and me standing, her on her knees and me sitting, her on the sofa leaning over me... And in each position I shifted and shuffled around trying to minimize the damage. Nothing really worked though and much as I hated to do it, I wound up having to finish the job by hand. At least Daphne was cooperative. She held her lips tight around the end of my shaft as I stroked my load out into her mouth. And she swallowed it all down too. That was nice, but it didn't make up for the fact that my cock was sore for three days after. Score Daphne a three. Energetic she may have been, but a good cocksucker she was not. Then there was Janice, who was sort of the opposite of Daphne. Janice was a cute, round-faced, slightly chubby woman who had an unusual smile. The way she smiled seemed like she was thinking about something different entirely. It was a strange thing, and I don't really know what it has to do with her cocksucking ability, but it was one of the things about her that struck me right away. Anyway, Janice, like Daphne, showed no hesitation or unwillingness when presented with my erect cock. She pounced on it quite eagerly. The only problem was, she didn't close her lips around me. Instead, all I felt was her tongue on the underside of my shaft. She bobbed rather rapidly, but somehow managed to keep her mouth open enough that I could hardly feel anything. It was very weird to watch the back of her head bobbing up and down in my lap but feel almost nothing. Janice, probably because of the way she kept her mouth open, was something of a slobberer too. Now I've had friends tell me that they think it's sexy when a woman slobbers all over their cocks. I like the way my cock glistens when a woman has wet me down with her saliva, but I don't really get into big gobs of spit dripping from me. It's not that it's a turn off, it just doesn't do anything special for me. I guess I should explain that I was sitting on Janice's sofa and she was on her knees between my legs. She had two fingers and her thumb wrapped around the base of my cock and was giving me a gentle tug every third or fourth time she bobbed. Janice was clearly getting into what she was doing. There was no doubt about that. It just didn't really feel like anything. The little tugs she gave me with her fingers was the most physically stimulating part of her blow job. Also, because of the way we were positioned, and because Janice had a thick tangle of dark hair that spilled over my lap, there wasn't much to see. She was wearing tight jeans and the way her back was arched, I could see down them to her thong underwear. Watching her thick frame go up and down and looking at her big round ass was a little stimulating, but not enough to make up for the lack of sensation from her poor sucking. Janice was a quiet, keep-your-head-down-and-suck type of cocksucker. She didn't stop to look up at me or talk or really do anything but bob up and down on me. I don't think that's a bad thing in itself and if she had done a better job of wrapping her lips around my cock, I probably wouldn't even have mentioned it here. But the combination of her bad, open-lipped technique and her lack of doing anything further to mentally stimulate me made for an especially unmemorable blow job. The little tugs she was giving me eventually got faster until they matched the pace of her bobbing and it was those short strokes that eventually got me off. Janice didn't close her mouth when I came, so the load I poured into her mouth ran down my shaft, over her hand and dripped onto my balls. Not that I could really tell. I was already soaked down there from all of her slobbering. It was quite a mess and all I can say is I'm glad it was her sofa and not mine. One nice thing Janice did at the end, after my cum had run out of her mouth and down my shaft, was to rub my softening cock all over her face, kissing and licking it. I appreciate a woman who worships my cock like that, and rubs my cum-covered shaft against her cheeks, lips, chin and eyelids. That's sexy. It's kind of like swallowing, because it happens after I've cum and therefore isn't part of the physical pleasure of the act. But it's the reason I give Janice a three instead of a two or lower. The Collector 14 Okay, that's about it for the bad blow job journal entry. Yeah, there are plenty of others that could go in this one, but most of those were just plain dull, uninspired and unexceptional. The ones I just wrote about were the ones that I remembered as being unusually bad. There were some that were worse, at least in the respect that the woman giving me head failed to get me to cum, but I decided not to bore anyone with those. I'm not even sure that they count as a blow job. Anyway, I hope I didn't drag this out too much. I apologize to those readers that look forward to me writing about good blow jobs and I promise to post a new entry (of a good blow job) soon. The Collector 15 Okay, I apologize to everyone who waded through my last entry. Those aren't the types of blow jobs that I started this journal for. I only did it to satisfy a few curious readers. That said, let's get back to entries about blow jobs that I'm much happier to recall. Jody was the ex-wife of a guy I worked with at a previous job. At the time I worked there, I was fairly good friends with her husband and the two of them went out with me and the woman I was seeing at the time. We only got together a handful of times. Jody and her husband had a strained relationship, and while they didn't actually fight in front of me and my girlfriend, more than once they went at each other enough to make us uncomfortable. I broke up with the woman I was dating, moved onto another job and didn't really keep in touch with the Jody's husband. I heard through some of the people I did keep in touch with that he and Jody had split up, and I really can't say I was surprised. Jody was an Italian woman, with dark skin, jet black hair and a thick body with lots of curves. Her breasts weren't overly large, but she wore clothes that always accentuated them. I'm guessing they were barely C cups, but her fashion choices made them look much bigger. She showed a lot of cleavage and was the type to notice when men noticed. Her hips were wide, her thighs thick but the tight black slacks she liked to wear held it all together in an enticing way. She had a very nice smile and liked to wrinkle her nose when she laughed. Her lips were full and puffy and a slight overbite made her lower lip curl forward and look bigger still. She almost always wore dark red lipstick, which only drew more attention to her mouth. Now I can honestly say that I wasn't eyeing her up when she was married. It may sound like bullshit, but I don't go around checking out my friends' wives, thinking about how they suck cock and how to get them to suck mine. They're off-limits and generally, I don't even like to mess around with the ex-wives of friends. But Jody's husband and I were never very close and I hadn't spoken to him in years at the time she and I hooked up. It all came about when I ran into Jody in a grocery store. She saw me first and came right over and started talking to me like we were old pals. I admit, while I recognized her right away, I couldn't remember her name or even where I knew her from for the first few minutes. But when a good looking woman comes over and starts talking to me, I go along with it. Fortunately, I remembered Jody's name before I said anything awkward. Jody asked me early in the conversation about the woman I had been seeing back in the days of our double dates, which is when I figured out who she was. When I told her that I was no longer seeing her, Jody didn't hesitate to ask if I was seeing anyone else. She was very forward with her questions. And it seemed to me that, while she said she was sorry that I was no longer with that woman, her expression and body language said she wasn't sorry in the slightest. Jody was in her late thirties or early forties. She had a couple of kids with her now-ex-husband. I didn't know much about her outside of the few times my girlfriend had been out with her and her husband. One thing I remembered was the way Jody looked at me. Or rather, the way she made eye contact with me. It always seemed a little flirty, the way a single woman would look at me. Definitely not what I'd expect from a married woman who was sitting next to her husband. The other thing that I remembered was that, when Jody made a sexual reference, which was usually in the form of a joke, she would look to see my reaction. As I chatted with Jody in the supermarket, a particular example came to mind. Jody had been chatting with my date while I talked to her husband. Both conversations were loud enough that the other could hear, but low enough that they didn't interfere. It was mostly mundane guy talk/girl talk. But suddenly Jody's voice got a little louder. "I told him if it tasted like chocolate, I'd do it all the time," Jody had said, wrinkling her nose up as she laughed. She had also shot a sly look in my direction to see if I had heard. "I mean," she had continued, "why did they have to make it taste like that?" I guess had assumed at the time that she had looked up to make sure I hadn't been paying attention. Looking back, it was clear she had been saying it hoping I was paying attention. She looked up because she wanted to see my reaction. When it happened I either didn't pick up on it, or ignored it because she was the wife of a friend. But looking back, she was clearly playing some sort of game or at least looking for some attention. I remembered all this as I talked with her in the store, wondering if she hadn't been checking me out back then. I asked Jody about her situation and she told me that she was now divorced. She said it in a way that I felt like I should tell her I was sorry, so I did. But I don't think she was the slightest bit sorry about it. She simply wanted a little bit of sympathy. Now don't misunderstand--I'm a naturally sympathetic guy. But I do resent people fishing for sympathy, at least when their circumstances don't deserves it. I stood in the store and talked to Jody for a good fifteen minutes and it was clear she would have kept talking. I was getting all the signals, from her body language, her nervous, nose-wrinkling laugh and the things she was saying and asking about, that she was a serious candidate for my collection. I watched Jody's ruby red lips moved as she talked and thought about how good it would feel to have them wrapped around my cock. I also thought about her comments that night so long ago about not liking the taste of cum and I wondered if I would get the chance to shoot my load in her mouth. Would she swallow it down if I did? With all this running through my head, I asked Jody if she had time to stop for a drink and continue catching up. I saw she had a shopping cart full of groceries and probably had to get home to make dinner for her kids, so I knew there was no chance she'd take me up on it. But you can tell a lot by the way a woman turns down an offer. And if Jody really wanted to get together with me, she might suggest a time that was better for her. Just as I expected, Jody told me she would love to grab a drink and talk some more, but... she indicated her shopping cart and shrugged. "My ex has the kids next weekend and my, uh, well, maybe that Saturday?" Something I couldn't read crossed Jody's face, but in an instant it was gone and all I saw was a hopeful expression. "Give me your number and I'll call you." I gave it to her and wondered if I should ask for hers. I decided not to. If Jody was interested, and she certainly seemed to be, she'd call. If she didn't, at least there was no wasted effort on my part. Also, I was wondering if that look that crossed her face had anything to do with a boyfriend. She had said there was no man in her life at the moment, but that could mean she was seeing someone with whom she wasn't serious. At least not yet. That was fine with me. I wasn't looking for anything more than for Jody to wrap those big ruby lips around my shaft and give me some good cocksucking. I was mildly surprised that I got a call from Jody the following night. She asked if I was still free the following Saturday. I told her I was and she asked if I liked home cooked Italian meals. Suspecting where this was going, I told her I did. Jody then invited me to her house, saying she'd cook dinner if I would bring a nice bottle of red wine. I readily agreed, thinking about her big red lips and her dislike of the taste of sperm. "Oh, and one other thing," Jody added, sounding a little strange. "Do you still have that pair of jeans you wore the time we went to the movies?" It was a surprising question and, needless to say, I had no idea what jeans I had worn, if I still owned them or even what movie she was talking about. "Uhm...." I didn't really know what to say. "That's okay," she said hurriedly, trying to cover up the awkwardness of the moment. "Just wear a nice, tight pair of faded blue jeans for me, okay? Gotta run. See you Saturday." And she hung up before I could ask any questions or even say goodbye. I didn't know exactly what jeans Jody had meant, but I knew what she was talking about. If I can be immodest for a moment, I've been hearing my whole adult life from women about how they love the way my ass looks in jeans. I could only assume that Jody felt that way too. Naturally, I would wear whatever worked for her. A turned on woman is the best kind, I always say. Now it might appear that things moved pretty quickly with Jody. But for some reason it didn't seem unusual to me. I guess that, even though I don't look at my friends' wives in a sexual context, I do notice if they look at me that way. I was aware at some level that Jody said and did things to get my attention. Maybe I just assumed that she was like that with everyone. Or maybe that's just how I rationalized it. At any rate, I didn't blink an eye at her invitation. To me it looked like Jody was just going after something she already knew she wanted: my cock. Hopefully, in her mouth. I showed up at her house Saturday at dinner time in the tight jeans she requested and a white silky button down shirt. I had two nice bottles of red wine with me as well. I was feeling pretty optimistic that I was going to get a blow job before I left and my cock started to stiffen a little, despite the constrictions of my jeans. Jody answered the door with a warm smile, but there was something very calculating in the look of her eyes. I couldn't help notice how she looked me up and down at least twice. I felt like a piece of meat being thrown to a hungry lion... My cock stiffened a little more at that thought. Jody was dressed, as usual, in a cleavage-enhancing bra and a low cut top. She had on black slacks, tight through the ass and thighs, showing off those generous curves. She gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek as I came inside. I followed her into the dining room, where she handed me a corkscrew and told me to open a bottle of wine while she put the finishing touches on dinner. The lights in the dining room had been dimmed. Jody had set the table so we would sit opposite each other. Candles, recently lit, burned between the place settings. I opened the wine and poured glasses for both of us. Just as I sat down, Jody brought in two salads. She returned a moment later with two plates of pasta covered with seafood in a red sauce. It smelled delicious and tasted even better. We didn't talk a lot as we ate. But Jody spent a lot of time looking through the candles at me and smiling. For dessert Jody made mocha coffee with hazelnut liquor. She served it in the living room and we had both just sat down on the sofa and taken the first sip when she got up and went back to the kitchen. "I almost forgot," Jody explained, returning with a can of whipped cream. She squirted a shot of it on the top of each of our mugs before sitting down beside me again. I noticed that she sat down a little bit closer than she had the first time. At first we just chatted. Mostly about people we both knew, her ex and the woman I had been dating, then other people her ex and I had worked with and so on. The only thing worth noting is that, sitting close as she was, Jody didn't hesitate to put her hand on my shoulder, my arm or on my leg. She was bubbly, laughing at anything I said that was remotely funny and smiling almost constantly. It was pretty obvious that she was trying to make this a perfect evening. The candlelit dinner, the wine and the dessert were just the start. Jody was planning on getting lucky tonight, and that was just fine with me. The only thing I was wondering about was if she had wanted to sleep with me back when she was married and now she was getting her chance. Or if she was simply horny and I was just in the right place at the right time. Not that it matters much, but sometimes I get curious. I started asking her questions about her situation. "So why aren't you dating anyone?" I asked. Jody laughed and shuffled around on the sofa a bit. I could see in her face that she was trying to decide what to say before answering. "Well," she began slowly. "I didn't actually say I wasn't seeing anyone." She looked up with an almost sheepish smile. She looked away quickly and continued. "What I said was there was no man in my life." The way she emphasized the word 'man' led me to believe that there was someone in her life, just not a man. I had honestly never really figured Jody to be bi-sexual, but I also admit that I didn't really know her very well. And even if I had seen her making eyes at me on those dates long ago, that would hardly mean she was only interested in men. "So you're seeing another woman?" I asked, suddenly very curious. Like most guys, I have a fascination with lesbian sex. Obviously, I didn't want to ask anything too personal or crude that might spoil this evening, and I don't really need to hear details. If Jody had volunteered anything, I certainly would have listened. I'm a guy and I got turned on thinking about Jody with another woman. "Yeah," Jody started slowly, taking a sip of her coffee. "She lives here. Moved in about six months ago." She paused for a moment, looking to see my reaction. But I waited without saying anything, which is often a more effective way to get someone to talk than asking questions. Sure enough, Jody continued. "She's visiting a sick relative this weekend. She left last night and won't be back until Monday afternoon." I looked into her eyes and nodded, but kept silent. "We've got a great relationship and we're really happy together," Jody went on after a brief pause. "But..." Now when someone has to tell me how great their relationship is, I'm always skeptical. Jody didn't have to add that 'but' at the end for me to know that there was a 'but.' "But?" I prompted. Jody put her coffee down and laid her hand on my thigh. "But sometimes I just need a man," she said and shrugged. Her eyes once again had that gleam in them and her smile was again predatory. Her hand gave my thigh a squeeze. I looked up at the clock over the television. It was almost 6:30. I calculated that before seven o'clock I would have Jody's mouth around my cock. It turned out I was right... with time to spare. "Stand up," Jody instructed, giving my leg another squeeze. "Let me see those buns of yours!" She seemed somehow both embarrassed and unabashed. With a glance into her eyes and a smile, I obliged. I stood up and turned slowly around to give her the full treatment. I could feel her eyes soaking me up and I knew she was about to pounce. Sure enough, as I turned back to face her, Jody stood up and embraced me. Her hands first went around my back, but quickly made their way down to my ass. She gripped a cheek in each hand, pulling me tight against her. My hands found her hips and I pulled her against me so she could feel my stiffening cock. It had the desired effect: she started to writhe against me and moan softly as her hands continued to squeeze my ass. I bent my head down and gave her a kiss on the neck, then her chin and then on her lips. But Jody didn't seem interested in kissing. She was too busy grabbing my ass, pulling me close and rubbing my hardened member against her belly. "Oh, God," Jody breathed. "I really need this." One of her hands detached from my ass and began massaging the lump in the front of my jeans. "Oooh!" I started caressing her ample breasts, kneading them gently with my hands, but I'm not sure Jody even noticed. Her focus seemed to be exclusively on my cock. I'm no rocket scientist, but it seemed pretty obvious to me what was missing from Jody's wonderful relationship. When Jody started undoing my pants, I pulled her hands away and took a step back. She might be in a hurry, but I was hoping to savor the moment a bit more. Plus, I have to be honest, when a woman is craving a cock like that, I like to string her along a little. I'm not saying I was going to make her beg for it, but if she was going to be on her knees anyway, well... And there's another thing, too. It seems to me that the more you withhold it, the more they want it. And the more they want it, the more they'll do to get it. Yeah, maybe was being a bit of an opportunist. Or maybe I was even exploiting Jody for my own selfish satisfaction. But I couldn't help thinking that if I made her work for it, there was not going to be much that this woman wouldn't do for me. And that's a pretty intoxicating feeling. So I stepped back from Jody and began unbuttoning my shirt. She tried to take a step toward me, but I held out my hand to keep her back. I undid the buttons of my shirt without hurrying. Every time it looked like Jody was going to come closer, I shook my head and stopped unbuttoning my shirt. "Oh, God, you're a bastard!" she breathed, still smiling. Her smile was beginning to show a little impatience, but I wasn't worried. I could keep her interest. When I finished, I opened my shirt wide for her and put her hands on my chest, encouraging her to rub me. She was clearly excited, but not about my chest. I know I'm a good looking guy and I work out enough to keep everything nice and toned up. I'm not a particularly muscular build, but women have always been appreciative of my physique. I knew Jody's apparent lack of interest wasn't so much because my body didn't appeal to her. It was because all she could think about was my cock. Getting it out. Holding it in her hand. Sucking it and finally, feeling it buried in her cock-starved pussy. I knew it and I was planning to hold out long enough to make her actually tell me that that's what she wanted. It was even easier than I though, and I hadn't really expected a challenge anyway. When I took off my belt and threw it over my shoulder, I thought I heard a slight whimper of anticipation escape Jody's lips. I looked right at her as I took hold of the top of my pants and hesitated. Her eyes darted between my eyes and my hands, her front teeth biting her lower lip. "What do you want?" I asked her. "I want you to take it out," she said with a sigh. She tried to step closer, but again I waved her back. "Why should I?" My hands were still poised at the top of my pants, not moving. "Because I need it." "I can see that," I replied easily. "But why should I?" Jody looked up at me, a blank look on her face. I repeated myself, putting more emphasis on the 'I'. "Come on," she pleaded. "I really need it." Still I waited, making no move to unbutton my jeans. "Mmmm, that's too bad," I said. "Must be tough." "Come on!" she said, her impatience mounting. "I haven't been fucked in a year! I need it bad!" "I see," I replied, nodding thoughtfully. "So you'd do just about anything to get laid?" Jody's eyebrows shot up, her dark brown eyes locking onto mine, an uncertain half-smile on her lips. I couldn't be sure if she was excited or nervous, or some combination of the two. But I didn't really care. Here was a beautiful woman desperate for my cock and I was going to make the most of it. "I, uh... I," Jody stammered. "I guess, well... I mean, what exactly did you have in mind?" I let a slight smile creep onto my face. I kept my eyes fixed on hers, trying to figure the best way to play my hand. "Well," I said slowly. "What can you do that I would like?" "Take it out and I'll show you." I shook my head. "Not good enough," I told her. "I need to know before I take it out." Jody looked at me, her eyebrows arching again. She knew I was just toying with her, but she also seemed to be conceding that I had the upper hand. I have to admit, I pushed things farther with Jody than I generally would have with most other women. I think it was because of the times she played her own little games, making sexual remarks in front of me to see my reaction and things like that. The individual things she did were, by themselves, insignificant. And if you go by my earlier example, I probably seem like more of a jerk than usual for making a big deal about that. But you have to keep in mind that Jody did and said things like that whenever I was around. It was a game to her. She had been teasing me. So now that I was in the driver's seat, I was going to give her a little payback. The Collector 15 I'm not really that petty. It was more an ego thing I think. Jody had been a tease to me, or at least tried to be. This was to show her that, not only was I not under her spell, but she would be the one to feel the frustration of being teased. Only for a few minutes, of course. It wasn't like I was going to leave without satisfying her. But I was going to milk it for all it was worth before I did. "Tell me," I said again when Jody didn't respond. "What do you want me to say?" she asked. Her half-smile had faded a bit and it was clear she was tired of waiting and wanted to get down to business. I just shrugged and took my hands away from my pants button. "If there's nothing in it for me..." I shrugged again and turned around to look for my belt. I'm sure she knew I was only kidding, but her reaction was as if I were really going to leave. "I'll do whatever you want!" Jody said in a rush. "What do you want me to do?" She was grabbing at me to keep me from walking away. "Well, what do you think I would like?" I asked her, putting her hand back on the bulge in my jeans. "Oh," Jody breathed, rubbing me through my pants. "Let me suck it." "Now we're getting somewhere," I said and, pushing her hand away, unbuttoned my pants. "Are you going to suck it standing up?" I asked when Jody continued to stand staring at my fly. She looked up at me and then back at my hands as I unzipped my fly and quickly squatted down, putting her face level with my crotch. Her hands grasped at the backs of my thighs. "Better?" she asked, looking up. I shook my head. "Close, but not quite." I took a half step back and unzipped my fly the rest of the way. I pulled out my erect cock and showed it to Jody. Her eyes widened in appreciation. It was the look I expected from a woman who hadn't had a cock in a long time. She leaned forward, ready to take me in her mouth, but I pulled away from her and shook my head. "Wha...?" Jody either had no idea why I stopped her or she figured I was deliberately tormenting her by making her wait. "It's been a while since you sucked cock?" I asked her. "Yes," she said. "I think we already covered that." She was not particularly happy to be on the receiving end of my teasing. Not now that the object of her desire was literally right in front of her face. That only made my cock harder. "I can tell. You look rusty." I smiled, but didn't let her come closer. "How can you say I'm rusty if you don't let me do anything?" Ordinarily, I don't like to tell women what I like or how I want them to give me head. The whole point of a collection is to experience the variety of different ways and techniques that women use when sucking cock. This wasn't quite an ordinary situation though. I really wanted to see Jody on her knees. I wanted to stand over her, wave my cock in her face and have her humbly ask me to put it in her mouth. That's a little bit different than how I usually do things, but I found that I was quite turned on by the idea. So I went for it. Hey, it's my collection and if I want to change the rules, it's my prerogative, right? "If you want to suck it," I said, waving it less than a foot from her face, "you should be on your knees." She gave me a little smirk, but she obediently goy on her knees. "And you have to ask me," I added as she reached for my shaft. "You're really pushing it," Jody said, but she was smiling. The sight of my cock inches from her nose was apparently too much for her to refuse. She must have also known that she was about to receive the payoff she was looking for. She sat back on her heels, gazing up at me, trying to look meek but her smile kept sneaking through. "Please," she said softly. "Let me suck your cock? Please?" I thought about making her work a little harder for it, but decided that would just be cruel. I had already made her get on her knees and ask to blow me. That was more than enough to make up for any teasing she had done years ago. I stepped forward and rubbed my cock along her cheek, up across her eyelids and down her other cheek. She waited patiently, lips parted for me to finish caressing her face with my rod and put it to her mouth. Once the head of my cock touched her lips, she fell on it immediately. Jody's luscious red lips parted and my cock disappeared into her mouth. She sucked hard and deep, pulling on my cock with her suction. It was like throwing hamburger to a pack of hungry wolves. Jody was devouring me. She was moaning as she sucked me, her body contorting as her head bobbed voraciously on my shaft. Her hands were again on my ass, pulling herself down on my cock with each stroke. I could feel her need in the way she squeezed my cheeks and the way her lips clamped around my rock-hard member. I stood and waited for her desperate fury to subside, loving the way her mouth felt on me. Her television entertainment center was beside me and I could see her reflection in its glass doors. It wasn't like having a mirror, but it was still nice to get a glimpse from that angle of my shaft being sucked. I was mildly disappointed to see that Jody curled her lips over her teeth, top and bottom. While it may have felt good, and it kept her teeth from cutting into me, it doesn't look that great. I would have rather felt the full softness of those big lips of hers without teeth behind them. It also looks so much better when a woman's lips are allowed to stretch out along my cock as she slides it in and out of her mouth. A minor thing, true, but since I noticed it, I figured it was worth mentioning. After a few minutes, Jody's excited bobbing tapered off a little and her strokes became much more sensual. The actual suction eased up a bit too, and I started feeling less like a meal and more like a man getting a blow job. Once she slowed down, I got a chance to appreciate and enjoy Jody's cocksucking much more. She took in more than half my shaft each time down and I could feel the warm wetness of her tongue steadily massaging my vein. One of her hands let go of my ass and took hold of the base of my rod. With it, she gave me well-timed, gentle squeezes with each bob of her mouth. After a few more minutes, she paused, resting her forehead against my stomach as she held my cock in her hand right next to her face. She pumped me gently while she rested there, breathing heavily. "God, I need a dick," she breathed. With that, she stood up and led me over to the sofa. I sat down and watched Jody take off her blouse and bra, letting her full breasts spill out. They were a little saggy, but still very nice. They had big, dark brown nipples that were sticking straight out. She knelt between my legs and pressed her breasts around my cock and stroked up and down. It seemed to me like, having not had a cock in a long time, Jody was trying to experience mine as fully as she could. She only spent a minute or two on the tit-fucking though. I guess it wasn't as much fun for her and she quickly gave it up in favor of sucking me some more. Jody sucked a little faster now. While I'm not a huge fan of sitting for a blow job, I have to admit that most women are better pleasing me physically in this position. Jody was no exception. Not that her lips hadn't been warm and pleasing a few minutes before. But now, with my cock held vertically by her hand, Jody was able to bob up and down faster without giving up any of the sensual feeling of her slower sucking. She paused to stroke and lick my balls several times. One of my favorite moments was looking into her eyes as she ran her tongue lightly under my scrotum. The tingling feeling that shot up through my balls and sent a warm flush all through my lower body was incredible. And as I felt her warm wetness gliding under my sensitive sack, I watched my cock slap against her face. I don't know why, but it really did something for me seeing my rod across her cheek like that. Jody continued sucking me and licking me for several more minutes and I must say she was giving a very enjoyable blow job. Maybe it was because she hadn't sucked cock in so long and she was just savoring every moment of having a hard shaft in her mouth again. Maybe she was thinking that when her girlfriend returned, she would be forced to do without once again; that this was the only cock she was going to suck any time soon. Or maybe Jody was just a really good cocksucker. Whatever it was, I was definitely benefiting from it. I was a little surprised when she stopped and sat back on her heels. Her hand still held my member up, glistening with a sheen of Jody's saliva. "Come upstairs and fuck me," Jody said. Now I figured that before the night was over, I would be having sex with her. But first things first. And the first thing was going to be her finishing sucking my cock. "No," I said, shaking my head. "Later." I nodded toward my erecting, still gripped in her hand. "Finish this first." "No," Jody replied. "I don't let anyone cum in my mouth." "Tonight you do," I informed her. "I'll fuck you all night and half of tomorrow afterwards," I said when she started to protest. "But I want to cum in your mouth first." Jody knelt there, looking at me as she considered it. I could see in her eyes that I still had the advantage. I wasn't sure if she really didn't want me to cum in her mouth or if she just couldn't wait any longer to fuck. But I knew what she was going to do. "You had better give me a good fucking after this," she said, leaning forward to take me into her mouth again. "You won't be disappointed," I assured her. "Besides, it could be a while before you get a chance to suck off a man again." Jody gave a short laugh and then took me back into her mouth. One thing I liked is that she didn't speed up the pace or do anything to try to make me cum faster. She kept at it the same as before, keeping it smooth and sensual. She looked up at me often with her big brown eyes and I liked that. It's a wonderful thing to have a woman look up at me with my cock buried in her mouth, like she's checking to see if she's sucking me properly. Eventually, Jody's unhurried pace and warm silky lips brought me to the brink and I felt my stomach start to tighten as my orgasm became imminent. For a moment I considered pulling out of her mouth and shooting my load on her tits. But I really wanted to cum in her mouth, maybe because of the way she had said she didn't like the taste, or maybe just because she said she didn't let men do that. I get turned on by women doing things for me that they don't do for other men. Jody's willingness to accept a mouthful of my cum excited me and help put me over the top. As my balls tightened and my shaft swelled, I was pleased that she made no move to back away. I groaned, my ass lifting off the sofa and Jody took my cum as it shot out of my rod onto her tongue. I could see her forehead crease with a frown as she tasted my hot sperm, but she didn't stop sucking. I don't know why, but I like to see that little frown on a woman's face when I pump my load into her mouth. Almost every woman seems to make that face. At least the ones whose faces I can see do. And I do try to look for it. I had always assumed that it was the taste of sperm that caused that reaction, but now I'm not so sure. I said in an earlier entry that no woman has ever told me that she likes the taste of cum. I guess I should rephrase that, because some women have since emailed to say that they actually do like it. So let me say that no woman who has sucked my cock has ever told me that she likes the taste of my sperm. If there are women out there that find semen tasty, they've yet to suck me off and tell me how good I taste. Anyway, my point was about the little frown that women make when I ejaculate in their mouths. I love to see it. In Jody's case it was because she didn't like the taste of cum and therefore didn't let men cum in her mouth. That she was making an exception for me, and that it was something unpleasant for her that she did to ensure my satisfaction, made her pinched brow very satisfying. Yeah, maybe I'd rather have a woman who wants my cum in her mouth, but one that will do it anyway--just for me--is a pretty awesome thing too. Jody sucked every drop out of me, her post-orgasm bobbing was very slow and wonderful. For a woman who didn't like the taste of cum, she was in no hurry to take me out of her mouth. I'm very sensitive after I cum and Jody's lips on my spent member sent spasms of pleasure shooting through me. After a minute or two, Jody let me slip from her mouth, got up and left the room. "I hope you didn't think I was going to swallow that mess too," she said with a laugh and wrinkling her nose when she returned. "It's going to take the rest of that wine to get the taste out of my mouth now!" I wound up fucking Jody a couple times that night. I came back the next night and fucked her again. That session started with a long, sensual sucking first. But I only got to shoot my seed in her mouth that one time. I'm not complaining. Jody was good in bed, as sensual in her fucking as in her sucking, which was a very nice thing. And she had already done something for me that she didn't usually do. I'd score Jody around a nine. Part of me says I should make it an eight point five, since she didn't swallow. But she did give me a nice, deep sucking. Her lips were smooth and silky on my shaft and her sucking was energetic yet sensual. She sucked like you would expect from a woman who had been denied cock for so long. I also enjoyed the mental parts of it. Jody wound up doing what I wanted, but not without some resistance. It gave me a sense of accomplishment getting her on her knees, having her ask to suck me and finally, getting her to take my cum in her mouth. Yeah, it's fun to play when you win, right? It more than made up for any issues I had with her past attempts to tease me or get my attention. Jody was dressed better than casual, but not as nice as I would have liked. Her thighs were a bit on the thick side, as I found out when I fucked her. But they were smooth and firm and looked good. There was no reason she should avoid wearing dresses or skirts, and I would have loved to see her on her knees in a nice tight dress. Especially one that accentuated her cleavage too. But the tight black slacks weren't bad. And taking her top off and wrapping her tits around my shaft were nice touches too. Yeah, but the final scoring still comes down to the issue of swallowing, so let's call it an eight point five. I have to admit, the way Jody continued sucking me after I came got my hopes up. She went on for so long I assumed she had swallowed. I mean, if she found the taste so objectionable, I wouldn't think she'd keep it in her mouth so long, right? So maybe that's why I'm particularly disappointed that Jody spit it out. Or maybe it's just the one thing I didn't get her to do that she normally wouldn't. Whatever it was, I just felt a little more disappointment than I usually would. I mean, women spit my cum out all the time and I just knock a little off their score and that's that. So I don't know why I was particularly bummed about Jody. But maybe that will give me a reason to get her on her knees again the next time her lover is away and she really needs a cock. The Collector 16 I've said several times that one of the things I really like about getting head from older women is that for many of them, oral sex is more intimate than intercourse. I like that a woman is willing to share herself with me in a way that she feels makes her more vulnerable. Maybe it's just an ego-feeder. Or maybe it just makes the act more special. Personally, I've always thought that the most beautiful thing a woman can do for a man is to take his cock into her mouth and suck him until he cums. So naturally I lean more towards women for whom it's also very personal. As I've said in earlier entries, it seems like younger women see oral sex as less intimate than intercourse. It's like it's become a way to keep their boyfriends happy and still retain their virginity. Or, at the very least, it's the stepping-stone to fucking. In other words, younger women may see it as second or third base, where an older woman might not be as willing to do it for a man unless she was already intimate with him. Why wouldn't I prefer older women, if they're the ones for who giving a blow job is truly something special? There's also another reason I tend to go my age or older. After a few years out of college, you just don't fit in with that crowd anymore. By the time you've been out of college for five years, you start to realize how naive you were then about almost everything. It's not easy to relate to people who still live in that world. College aged women might have beautiful, tight young bodies, but if I can't talk to them, what's the point? Of course, there are exceptions. Not everyone who is twenty-one is naive. Some women are more mature by then than I'll ever be. But that's not the case with this next entry. No, there are other reasons to make exceptions, as I'm sure you can imagine. I was in a bar at happy hour with a few people from work when I noticed a girl across the bar looking in my direction. In the dim light of the bar it was tough to be sure, but she didn't look familiar. She looked a bit young and was dressed in sweats with her hair pulled back. I wrote her off pretty quickly as too young, but I couldn't help noticing that she kept looking over at me. Naturally, I looked back and smiled once or twice, but more out of habit than because I was interested. I was surprised when she came around to me and addressed me by name. I had no idea who she was and told her so. She scolded me playfully for not remembering her. Her name was Stacy. It turns out she had worked part time last holiday season at my old girlfriend Cheri's boutique. She had seen me a few times when I had popped in to visit. I vaguely remembered seeing more people in the shop, but I never would have remembered Stacy. "I'm a good friend of Stephanie," Stacy told me. "That's how I got the job." I looked at her blankly for a moment before remembering that Stephanie was one of Cheri's regular employees. "That's also the reason I remember you in particular!" Stacy gave me a sly look that I couldn't figure out. The blank expression on my face must have told her that I wasn't following. "I'm Stephanie's friend," she said, emphasizing Stephanie's name. At first I couldn't understand what she was trying to tell me. Then it hit me. Stephanie was the girl that had almost caught Cheri giving me a blow job in the back of the shop. Actually, she pretty much had caught us. Cheri had been squatting down less than a foot from me and I had been standing with my back to the door tugging frantically at my zipper. The only thing Stephanie hadn't seen was Cheri's mouth on my cock. Or had she? I suddenly remembered seeing the vacuum cleaner Stephanie had been using hovering by the doorway between the front and back of the store. There had been a mirror there. Had Stephanie been watching the whole thing? I remembered thinking at the time that it was possible. I also remembered that, having just gotten an incredible blow job, I hadn't really cared if the whole thing had been carried live on CNN. The way Stacy was talking, it seemed that Stephanie might have seen something. But I wasn't going to let on. I just looked at her, careful to keep my expression blank. Stacy must have figured that I didn't know her friend had seen Cheri and me. She changed the subject. "I really liked working for Cheri," Stacy told me. "She was more than a good boss. She was more like a role model." I nodded and politely agreed. "I want to own my own place someday, you know," she continued and started telling me as if I was her best friend. Stacy went on for a good twenty minutes, telling me all about her dreams of owning her own shop and how she would do this or that. I nodded and asked a polite question when appropriate, but the more Stacy talked, the younger she seemed. Not that I was all that interested in her to start with, but the more she went on, the more I was eager for her to go back to her friends on the other side of the bar. Stacy was a cute kid, but that was the problem. I was thinking about her like she was a kid, not a woman. Clearly, she was at least twenty-one, or she wouldn't be in a bar. She was also, from what I could tell, a very attractive young lady. But nothing in what she was saying was piquing my interest. I guess my lack of interest was obvious, because Stacy suddenly stopped talking and looked at me. I looked back at her, noticing for the first time what beautiful blue eyes she had. "You know what I really admire about Cheri?" Stacy said after a brief pause. I felt the momentary excitement of looking into her eyes start to fade as I shook my head. "It's the way she can be in charge, you know, like a boss and all, and still be a woman." I nodded, but not in a way that would have encouraged her to continue. But she did anyway. "You know," Stacy said, "Like the way she can give someone orders to clean up and still go in the back and give a blow job." I looked at Stacy, raising an eyebrow. We looked at each other for a long moment. "I told you," Stacy went on at last. "I'm good friends with Stephanie. We talk, you know?" "That's nice," I said, annoyed with myself for letting her catch me off-guard so easily. "And I told you," Stacy said in what was presumably her seductress voice. "I want to be like Cheri." She gave me a significant look. "Just like her." "Well, you've got your work cut out for you," I replied. "I don't think you're, like, getting what I'm saying, you know?" Funny how when I was in college it didn't bother me that everyone said, like, 'like' every other word, but now I find it slightly irritating. Guess I'm gettin' old. "I think, like, you're the one not getting what you're, like, saying, like." I shot back. I looked at Stacy and gave her a wan smile. She looked back at me steadily, a little bit of a smirk on her face. "Yeah, well, like, if you think you're so up to it, like," Stacy said and ran her tongue across her upper lip in a move clearly intended to seduce. "I'll show you what I like." Her attempts at seduction, had they come from a good-looking forty year old woman, would have given me an erection. But I was only mildly amused by Stacy's efforts. I don't know why the double standard. Maybe older women are just a fetish of mine. Or maybe I just felt that Stacy was like a child playing dress up. Or maybe I arrogantly assumed that I was too experienced to take her seriously. Whatever the reason, I wasn't all that interested in Stacy. She seemed to see this as some sort of challenge. "Why don't you like me?" she asked, giving her head a toss. With her hair pulled back, it didn't have the effect she intended. "Who said I don't like you?" I replied. "I don't even know you." "You don't think I could be like Cheri though." I don't really know what she meant, and wasn't sure I cared. "Not many women can," I said with a shrug. "I bet in some ways I'm at least as good," Stacy said, still smirking. She took a sip of her drink. "If we were in the back room right now, I'd show you what I mean." "Why?" I asked. I didn't know this woman at all and couldn't figure out what she was about or why she was making such an attempt to get my attention. Stacy looked into my eyes for a moment, then looked away. "I, uh... I can't stop, you know, thinking about it," she said, glancing back into my eyes, but only for an instant. "Thinking about it?" I was wondering if I really understood what Stacy was saying. "Come on outside and I'll show you." She tried to give me her seductive smile again, but it seemed a little awkward. I guess my unenthusiastic response was throwing her off. "Just like that?" I was genuinely surprised, but kept it hidden behind a bored-looking expression. I can honestly say I've never had a woman try to pick me up in a bar and try to get me out into the parking lot, presumably for a blow job, within thirty minutes of meeting me. "Why not?" Stacy asked, the smirk coming back to her lips. "Because we hardly even know each other," I replied, thinking that I wouldn't care that we didn't know each other if she was older and, in my eyes, sexier. "Let me tell you something," Stacy said, leaning close and keeping her voice low. "I've been thinking about you that way ever since you walked into the shop and Stephanie pointed you out and told me you were the one." "The one?" "The one she caught Cheri blowing!" Stacy whispered. I just looked at her, not saying anything. Stacy looked at me for a moment, then continued, still whispering. "Do you have any idea how hot that is? That she did you right there in the back of the shop? God," Stacy took a deep breath. "I get wet just thinking about it!" She gave me a slightly embarrassed smile. I looked at Stacy a little more closely. She had a very pretty face. Her bright blue eyes were accented by long, full lashes. She had high cheekbones and a delicate, slightly upturned nose. Her smile wasn't what I'd call dazzling, but it was friendly and unpretentious. Her lips, which I now found myself thinking about, weren't especially full, but she did have that nicely prominent crown in the middle of her upper lip and a playful curl at each corner. Stacy's light brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail, but it looked like it would fall straight to just below her shoulders if she were to release it. The baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants she wore made it impossible to tell much about her body. My guess was she was thinly built with small breasts, but I couldn't be sure. Her smile seemed to take on an air of smugness when she realized I was checking her out. This was probably more the way she was used to having men look at her I guess. A way that let her leverage her good looks to get what she wanted. I have to admit, I was a little resentful. Yeah, I was playing into her hands by looking her up and down the way I had, but I hadn't been able to help myself. The fact that she seemed to know this, was counting on it, made me feel manipulated. I guess what really bothered me is that because she was younger, I didn't see her as an equal and so I didn't think that she should be able to play me so easily. It might simply have been a matter of me expecting to have the upper hand just because I was older and, most likely, more experienced. Or, I didn't like the game-playing that seems to be an inevitable part of dealing with younger women. I didn't like it when they drew me into their games and played me like I was a dumb-ass frat boy that could be led around by his hard on--especially when I let myself be played. "So?" Stacy asked with a perky little toss of her head. "So what?" "So do you want to go out to the parking lot for a few minutes?" There was a gleam of excitement in her eyes and a rosy hue came to her cheeks. She seemed to be getting turned on at the thought of blowing me in a car in the parking lot. "Uh, it's still daylight out," I said, not sure that she would be so easily discouraged. "I've got tinted windows." "I don't know," I said. The more I thought about it, the more I was torn. I mean, here was this cute little thing all ready and willing to suck my cock in her car. Right here. Right now. All I had to do was say okay. But at the same time I felt like this was a power trip for her. I get my cock sucked plenty as it is. For her to waltz over and expect me to eagerly drop my pants at her command was a bit arrogant. I don't know why, but I didn't want to give in. Maybe I'm just stubborn. "Look, I'm here with some friends. Maybe another night." I admit, I was thinking about Stacy's lips, wondering how they'd feel around my cock. But to let things happen completely on her terms would just seem like surrender. Besides, I really am not particularly attracted to younger women. Maybe if she had been dressed elegantly she wouldn't have seemed so young and I wouldn't have been trying to push her away. Stacy looked at me for a long moment, probably surprised that I would turn her down. Then she shrugged and took another sip of her drink. "Well, if you can turn down the most awesome head you've ever had," Stacy said, leaning close. "Like, what else can I say?" She flashed me a smile and walked back around the bar to where her friends were, but she continued to look over at me. For my part, I tried not to look at her, but the thought of her ponytail bobbing up and down in my lap in the front of her car, well... We made eye contact across the bar several times. Each time she gave me that little smirk, like she knew it was only a matter of time. And let's be real. It was. There was no way that I could walk away from a blow job, even if Stacy was a bit young and arrogant for my taste. Probably what bothered me the most was knowing that she knew it. She knew if she wanted to suck my cock, she was going to. It was going to happen. Now on the one hand, that was tough for me to concede that I was going to lose this contest of wills. On the other hand though, she was going to take the sting out of losing by giving me head. Great head, if I were to believe her. That was another thing that irked me. The way she said she'd give me the best blow job of my life. First, I've gotten a lot of blow jobs from a lot of women. Second, a lot of those women had sucked a lot of cocks before they sucked mine and Stacy was younger than most of them. I know that age isn't necessarily an indication of experience. I've been with older women with very little experience and younger women with plenty. I had one reader email me to say that she sucked more cock by the time she was twenty than most women will suck in a lifetime. So on one level, I know that age and experience don't always go hand in hand. Still, I thought it was highly unlikely that Stacy would be better than any of the women I had been with. I should also note that I meant that strictly in a sense of physical cocksucking ability. I know that I'm more turned on by older women and therefore they have a huge advantage in the mental stimulation. And let's face it, that's at least half of what makes a blow job great. Stacy might be a one-of-a-kind cocksucker, but if I was only mildly turned on by the thought of her going down on me, I couldn't see her giving me as big a thrill as, say, a Connie or a Cheri. Still, there I was, sneaking glances at her across the bar, wondering how I could gracefully change my mind without feeling like I was sacrificing my pride. And she kept catching me. It seemed like every time I looked over, her head turned and our gazes met. Each time that smirk on her lips seemed to get a little more smug. I lingered in the bar and was one of the last from my crowd to leave. As I made my way to the door, Stacy intercepted me. "Ready now?" she asked. The smugness of her smile made me want to say no, but that just wasn't going to happen. I had already started thinking about her lips sliding up and down my shaft and wondering just how good a sucking she would give me. I gave her a raised-eyebrow look, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. "Shut up!" Stacy said. "Like, stop pretending you don't want it!" She had a big smile on her face now. Not the smug smile, but a happy one. She was probably feeling a bit smug too about knowing she could manipulate me. But that was overshadowed by what seemed to be genuine excitement. Stacy looked like a kid who had just been promised an ice cream cone. Was she really that excited to get to suck my cock? Now I have had the pleasure of knowing lots of women who really enjoy sucking cock. Some have claimed to like sucking my cock as much as I like getting it sucked, which seems tough to believe, if only because I really, really enjoy it. That and the fact that I almost always cum. Some women have cum while performing their oral magic on me, but most don't. So naturally I wonder how it could be as good for them when I'm the one who's getting off. Stacy's enthusiasm for giving head didn't really surprise me. What I didn't get was why she wanted to blow me in particular. Yeah, she had heard a story about me getting sucked off by someone she knew. I could see where that might be a little stimulating. But I was still little more than a face and a name to her. Most of the women who were so eager to get on their knees for me knew me well enough. Still, there was no denying that Stacy's whole face had lit up when she saw that I would accompany her to her car. I never even said anything, I just shrugged and let a little hint of a smile slip across my face. The next thing I knew, she was virtually dragging me out the door and across the parking lot. It was early twilight. Still too light in my opinion to be fooling around in a car parked in a crowded lot. But Stacy's car did indeed have heavily tinted windows. She led me over to it and I slipped in the passenger side door. Stacy climbed in the driver's side and, pulling the door closed behind her, turned and smiled at me. Her smile was so wide she was almost laughing. "Well, don't make me wait!" Stacy was leaning over and pawing at my pants almost immediately. I don't know what I had been expecting, but I wasn't ready for her to go straight for my crotch. I guess I thought we'd be making out and working our way up to the main event, but Stacy has other plans. Before giving me so much as a kiss, Stacy was undoing my pants and fishing around for my member. Things had gotten started so quickly that I hadn't had time to get aroused. It wasn't the kind of sexy, steamy buildup that would have me hard as a rock before I ever got it out of my pants. Most of the best blow jobs I've gotten started with a lot of anticipation. There wasn't any of that in this case. And, in all honesty, I felt a bit bewildered by how aggressively Stacy was coming after me. I was caught off balance. Not that I didn't want her to suck my cock. I was in with both feet at this point and very much expecting a blow job. But I found myself thinking more about Stacy's motives than her lips on my rod. I was so preoccupied with why she was going down on me that I wasn't fully enjoying how she was doing it. But Stacy didn't seem the slightest bit surprised to pull a soft member from my pants. She bent her head down and slipped me into her mouth. The sudden warmth sent a tremor of pleasure through me. Stacy sucked gently as my cock swelled in her mouth. After a minute of her tongue undulating along my vein and her lips rubbing softly up and down my shaft, my cock was fairly hard. Not straining-for-release-rock-hard, but I'd say about ninety percent. Stacy reached her hand around my pole, grasping it firmly near the base. She put the head to her lips but didn't open her mouth. At first I wasn't sure what was going on. She rubbed my cock on her lips and licked me a few times, but she was no longer sucking me. Then she opened her mouth and took half of me inside. Almost immediately her body started to tremble and a muted cry escaped from her. I saw her hips wrenching and bucking on the other side of the car and I realized that she was cumming. For a long moment she held me half way into her mouth while her body writhed and shook. The Collector 16 "Oh," Stacy breathed, sitting back a little bit. "God, I wasn't ready for that just yet!" She gave a short laugh and gave my shaft a pump with her hand. "Your cock is like, just incredible!" She bent over and put me in her mouth again. She only bobbed a couple of times before sitting up again. "I've got to stop for a second," Stacy said, sounding apologetic. "I don't want to be responsible if I cum again with you in my mouth!" She gave another little laugh, and continued to pump me slowly with her hand. Taking a deep breath and rolling her eyes, she said, "Okay, let's try this again." Stacy bent over me again but didn't take me into her mouth straight away. I have to admit, the idea of her cumming while sucking my cock had really turned me on. The idea that she might have another orgasm from putting my member back in her mouth was even more exciting. My cock went from ninety percent to as hard as it's ever been. I've never felt a change in intensity quite like that before. One moment I was just sort of along for the ride. I was getting a blow job because it was there to be had, but I didn't have any real enthusiasm. Suddenly, the woman is cumming just from putting me in her mouth and my cock turns to granite. I went from wondering if I'd be able to cum in less than ten minutes to worrying about that I might cum in one. I was almost impatient for Stacy to start sucking me again, but glad she didn't. Like I said, I was suddenly very into this blow job and didn't want it to end too quickly. Stacy, for her part, was still taking her time, not so much for my sake but for her own. I guess she was still close enough to orgasm herself that she had to hang back. We both sat there barely moving, the tip of my cock against Stacy's lips, both of us catching our breath. Slowly, Stacy opened her mouth and slid her lips down my straining shaft. The warmth and wetness of a woman's mouth never felt so good. She went almost three quarters of the way down. Stacy moved so slowly it was like she was trying to tease me, but I knew the reason was because she was already dangerously stimulated herself. Stacy went oh-so-slowly up and down my shaft three or four times before pausing again. "Still pretty close," she whispered, licking the under side of my head. "I like to work up to it a little before I cum. I like it best if I've got it down in my throat when I do," she explained. The way she was talking made it sound as though she was accustomed to having orgasms while sucking cock. I've known very few women that have cum just from giving head, and those were usually special, particularly hot, circumstances. I had never met a woman who regularly reached orgasm that way. A moment later Stacy's lips closed around my cock again and she began sucking rather quickly. Her strokes were deep and silky and my cock, already straining, was on the verge of exploding. It was all I could do to hold back as I watched her ponytail bobbing in my lap. Suddenly Stacy buried herself on my erection, pressing my head hard into the back of her throat. As she did, her body once again convulsed as her orgasm surged through her. She pulled her head up only a little bit before hammering it back down on my shaft. The feel of the head of my cock pounding against the back of her throat combined with the orgasmic thrashing of her body were too much for me. My stomach muscles tightened and my ass lifted out of the seat as I thrust forward. Stacy barely had time to pull back before the cum roared out of my cock into her mouth. The surge of my ejaculation seemed to go on and on as my body hunched forward involuntarily. Stacy continued to suck me even as her body trembled with her own orgasm. I dropped back into the seat as Stacy's lips sucked the last drops from my spent member. My body spasmed a few times as her mouth continued up and down me even as I began to soften. When she finally let me slip from her mouth and I was able to unclench the muscles of my abdomen and thighs, I felt completely drained. Stacy sat up, wiped the corner of her mouth and let out a soft laugh. "Oh God that was good!" She took several deep breaths. "Come on. Let's go back in so you can buy me a drink to wash that down," she said as I tucked myself back into my pants. I shrugged and followed her back into the bar. It was strange that only ten minutes before I had been resisting Stacy, not wanting to let her call all the shots. Now she was leading me back to the bar to buy her another drink and I was going along unconcerned. But I have to admit, the idea of Stacy cumming while sucking my cock not once but twice made it one of the more exciting blow jobs I'd ever had. I guess I could let her run the show for that kind of payoff. When we got our drinks, Stacy took a long sip of hers, then another. "You're so lucky," she told me. "Men never have to worry about getting the taste of cum out of their mouths. Not straight men anyway," she added. "Is it that bad?" I asked. Now I don't get nearly enough opportunities to discuss the particulars of cocksucking with women, so when I get the chance, I don't pass it up. My experience has been that women find the taste of cum somewhere between disgusting and tolerable. I've been told by some readers that they actually like the taste, but I haven't personally heard it from any woman who's swallowed one of my loads. "Yeah, it's pretty bad and it lingers for a while," Stacy said, sipping her drink again. "But it's worth it," she added with a leering smile in my direction. "Why do you uh, you know, let a guy shoot in your mouth if you don't like it?" I pretty much knew what the answer would be, but I always like to hear how different women explain it. "It's not that I don't... well," Stacy paused, organizing her thoughts. "I guess I just get so excited that I don't care how it tastes." She shrugged and took another sip. "At least not until later." She smiled and held up her glass. "So you get turned on by a guy, uh, you know." "Cumming in my mouth?" she finished for me. I nodded. "God, yes. I'm starting to get wet all over again just thinking about it." She gave my thigh a squeeze. "Hurry up and finish your drink. I think I'm ready for more." I looked at her, my eyebrows arching. "More?" I asked. I knew what she meant, but wanted to hear her say it. I wasn't disappointed. Stacy leaned close to whisper in my ear. "More of your fabulous cock in my mouth, pounding the back of my throat and shooting your cum on my tongue. I can't wait to swallow another load of your cum. Mmmmmm!" Now I have to say, if I were reading something someone else had written where a woman said that, I'd be pretty skeptical. I mean, face it. It's the sort of thing you'd expect to hear in a porno. It's not something a woman would say to a man in a bar. But that's what Stacy said to me. A range of things went through my mind as she whispered to me. The first was that she was being too over the top. She already had me where she wanted me. If she simply asked me to go back out to her car, I wouldn't have been able to say no. I can't say it sounded phony when she said it. I mean, she had just had two orgasms solely from sucking my cock. But it felt like she was saying it because she thought it was what I wanted to hear. I could be completely wrong, but that was how it came across. Also, I felt that twinge of resentment. Yeah, I was pretty much going to do whatever she wanted at this point, so why did this seem like a blunt attempt to manipulate me? Maybe she talked that way anyway. I don't know. If she did, then I let it bother me for nothing. But a wink, a lick of her lips and an invitation to walk her to her car would have done the trick. But the thought that pushed through all of this was that I wanted Stacy to suck my cock again. I felt my still-soft member start to stir again. I knew I had cum quicker than I would have liked, and really didn't get to test her cocksucking skills. And I was curious to see if having my cock in her mouth the second time would be exciting enough to make her climax. I finished my drink, put the glass down and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I can't wait to have you suck my cock again." Stacy looked at me, finished her drink and led me out of the bar with a combination of excitement and impatience. We climbed back into Stacy's car. Now it was dark enough that we didn't really need the tinted windows. It was almost an exact replay of the first time as Stacy grabbed at my zipper right away. I leaned the seat back and got comfortable before pushing her hands out of the way and extracting my partially erect cock from my pants. But this time Stacy started sucking me right away. Her lips slipped up and down my shaft, spreading silky warmth as my shaft continued to stiffen. Now when I get an erection that soon after cumming, it's usually a little tender at first, almost sore. But when it gets hard, it's a rock and it stays hard. If Stacy had stopped sucking me at that point, I would have stayed hard as a rock for quite a while. That erection is kind of like a morning hard on. It just doesn't want to go away. Stacy was apparently aware that my cock would be a little tender to start and her sucking was deep, slow and gentle. As I reached the point of completely erect, I felt Stacy starting to quiver a bit. Sure enough, after only a few minutes of sucking my granite-like erection, she slipped me out of her mouth and held her breath for a moment. She looked like she was trying to hold back her orgasm. "Ahh," she whispered. "I love having a really, really hard cock in my mouth." She lowered her lips down over my rod again and forced herself all the way down on me. Once again I felt the head of my cock grinding against the back of her throat. This time my erection was harder and though Stacy pushed herself down repeatedly, she couldn't take in as much as she had in our first session. I watched her body writhing in her seat as her ponytail bobbed in my lap. Her legs were shifting, her ass twitching and her back was arching as she sucked me and I figured it was only a matter of time before she came again. I don't usually talk while getting my cock sucked, but I wanted to see if I could help her to cum with a few choice words. "God, you're a good cocksucker!" I moaned. A little whimper escaped her and her hips gyrated in the seat. "Yeah," I breathed. "I love the feel of my cock against the back of your throat." Her lips separated from my shaft to let out a squeal of pleasure. Then she slammed herself down hard on my cock so forcefully it almost hurt. She held me there, her body twitching and spasming as she orgasmed. As her body relaxed again, Stacy began sucking me at a furious pace. Ordinarily, when a woman goes that fast she gets pretty sloppy. Teeth become an issue, the strokes usually get shorter and much of the sensuality is lost. Well, Stacy wasn't too bad in the teeth department. Occasionally I'd feel them graze my member, but nothing that hurt or distracted me. But even though I felt mostly lips and tongue, there is nothing sensual about a woman's mouth jack hammering away on my cock. Especially since now she was taking in less than half of my shaft. Granted, she was sucking me off for the second time in less than an hour. If she was a woman who had sucked a lot of cock, she'd know that getting a guy off the second time can take some effort. So I figured that was why she went at it the way she did. I'm not saying I'd cum faster if she went slower, at least not the second time, but I wouldn't have minded her taking it slow for a while so I could sit back and enjoy it. Once a woman steps up the pace, I know she's just trying to get me to cum. At that point it's no longer about a woman using her mouth to please me. It's more about getting me to cum so she can stop sucking me and go home. That's how it usually seems to me, and this was no exception. Stacy was a decent cocksucker, at least in how her mouth felt on my shaft. But she didn't seem to fully understand that an important part of a blow job is mental. If she had spent more time massaging and caressing my cock with her mouth and tongue, built up my anticipation or even if she had just taken her time and sucked me slowly for a little bit it would have been better. Instead, it was more like she was jerking me off with her mouth. Now don't get me wrong. I appreciate a woman who can suck like that and keep it up long enough to get me off. In this case Stacy was at it ten minutes or more and her pace barely wavered. That's some pretty impressive cocksucking endurance. Especially hunched over in the front seat of a car the way she was. But when I finally came, it wasn't the big deal it could have been. Stacy's head bobbed up and down on my hard cock over and over. It took a while, but eventually I felt my shaft begin to throb and my balls begin to tighten. That second orgasm is often gut wrenchingly good, enough to make every muscle in my body tighten and release. This one was good, but not quite that good. My cock was tingling as I felt it building up and I held back as much as I could, letting go with grunt and a whole-body spasm. My cock, balls, thighs, stomach--basically the whole region--flooded with warmth as I erupted in Stacy's mouth for the second time that night. Once again she sucked me clean and swallowed my cum before letting my cock slip from her mouth. Stacy was breathing heavy from the exertion of her marathon sucking as she sat up and leaned back in the driver's seat. She watched as I tucked myself back into my pants and zip my fly. "It may not taste so great," Stacy said with a sigh, "But I love to make a man cum in my mouth." Okay, Stacy presents some scoring problems for me because some things about her blow jobs were great and some were not. First things first, she sucked my cock twice in an hour. I've said before and I'll say it now, a woman who blows me two times in a row is something special and I'll give her a good score for that alone. Stacy swallowed both times too. A lot of women who don't like the taste of sperm would spit it out or not let me cum in their mouths in the first place. So she deserves credit there as well. Again, a woman who does those two things would get at least a seven point five to an eight, even if they didn't do anything more. In Stacy's case, more was her cumming while sucking my cock. That's something that I rarely experience and I've never had a woman cum three times that way. So there was definitely a lot of sexual excitement, especially that first time when Stacy came twice while blowing me. If you've read my earlier journal entries, you know it's rare that I cum quickly, so the fact that I did says a lot about how turned on I was by Stacy's orgasms. Is there anything sexier than a woman who cums while sucking cock? There are a couple of other things worth mentioning about Stacy. First, she was very direct. She was excited about the idea of sucking my cock and pretty much came over and told me so. She also was uninhibited about giving me head in the parking lot of a bar. Yeah, the windows were tinted, but let's be serious. A man and woman get into a car and the car doesn't start up, pretty much anyone with half a clue knows what's going on. Especially if they get out of the car ten minutes later all smiles. There was also Stacy's power sucking, which, while not one of my favorite things a woman does, was impressive for a couple reasons. She sucked hard and fast without being sloppy with her teeth. And she kept at it for as long as it took to get me off. A marathon cocksucker like Stacy is impressive, even if it's not my favorite way to be sucked. While I didn't take any points away for her sucking me this way, I generally don't add any either. There were several things about Stacy's blow job that I did feel should detract from her score. Her age and her arrogance were number one on the list. Stacy may have sucked a lot of cocks, maybe even more than some of the older women I've been with, but she wasn't in their league. At least, she isn't yet, although a woman who enjoys sucking cock as much as Stacy will certainly only get better. But for her to say she would be the best I'd ever had was absurd. She might have great techniques and a mouth made for cock, but she still had a lot to learn about the mental part. A man who knows what good cocksucking is all about (and I like to think I do), knows that at least half of what makes a blow job great happens before he even unzips his fly. Stacy also was dressed in sweats, which are about as un-sexy and unflattering as anything I can think of. Sucking me in the front seat of her car, while it did provide the excitement of a public place, took away a couple things that I relish in a blow job. In particular, there was no way for Stacy to be on her knees and there was no way I was going to see anything but the back of her head. Yeah, the thrill of getting blown in a parking lot was more than enough to make up for it, but I'm still allowed to be disappointed I didn't get to see Stacy on her knees with her lips wrapped around my cock. The last thing was the lack of sensuality in her blow job. I like to feel a woman is focused on my cock and is sucking it because she is all about pleasing me in one of the most submissive ways a woman can. Stacy might have sucked a lot of cocks, but she still hadn't figured out that getting a man to cum is not the same thing as pleasing him. A great blow job starts with the attitude of the woman and her desire to make it a special, intimate experience. As I said in an earlier entry, it isn't a good blow job just because I cum. There's much more to it than that, and Stacy simply hadn't grasped that yet. I'll give Stacy an eight point five. While her actual cocksucking isn't worth that high a score, there were circumstances that made me feel a bit generous. She blew me in a public place, not once but twice. She came three times from nothing more than having my cock in her mouth. Plus the fact that, though she said she didn't like the taste of cum, she swallowed both of my loads. Those are factors that I have to take into account, and they're worth the extra point or so that they add to her overall score. As a follow-up, I should mention that a week and a half after this, Stacy came to my apartment on a Saturday afternoon and sucked my cock two more times. Once again she was dressed in unappealing sweats and once again her sucking was a straightforward, not very sensual, bobbing marathon. She only came once herself that time. Clearly the circumstances of that first night in the bar parking lot were part of what made it good for her too. There was also an annoying attitude thing. Stacy seemed to think her performance in the parking lot made her irresistible to me, that she had been so good I couldn't say no. The truth was I had nothing better to do that day and was curious to see if she would cum again while servicing me. I've since had the satisfaction (okay, this is a little bit petty, I admit) of turning her down when she wanted to come over again. But it did feel good to say no, if only because Stacy thought she was better than she actually was. I will say that I wouldn't mind sticking my cock in her mouth in another ten years, just to see if she becomes the cocksucker she has the potential to be. The Collector 17 Okay, so far, with one notable exception, I've concentrated on recounting the best and/or most exciting blow jobs I've gotten. And it's not that there aren't more of those to talk about, but I feel like changing it up a bit. This next entry was not a great blow job or particularly stimulating circumstances, but it was a pretty unique experience. To this day I'm not sure if it was a good idea to go for it or not. I'll tell the story and you decide. Maggie was as nice a person as you'd want to meet. She was very pleasant and courteous, said hello to everyone she passed and seemed to take a genuine interest in the people around her. She worked in the building next to the one containing my office. Her office was too small to have a cafeteria, so she and a lot of her coworkers often came over to my building for lunch. My company also did some business with hers, so they were in and out fairly frequently. A lot of the people in my office knew who Maggie was and she would stop and chat when she was in the building. I only spoke to her on rare occasions, but when I did, I couldn't help noticing there was a certain look in her eyes. It wasn't a particularly sexual type of look, but there was something about it that seemed submissive. Maggie was in her late forties or early fifties. She was married and had a couple of college age kids. While her face was relatively pretty, her body really didn't appeal to me. She had no ass at all, thin hips and a little bit of a pot belly. She had rather large breasts, but I was willing to bet if they were ever released from her bra, they'd probably sag half way to her ankles. Maggie wore clothes that did very little to flatter her figure (or lack thereof). She almost always wore slacks, instead of skirts or dresses that would have hidden some of the less attractive aspects of her body. They were nice clothes, don't get me wrong. She was always elegantly dressed. It's merely my opinion that she could have made herself look better with different fashion choices. Maggie's face, like I said, was still pretty. She had short, dark hair that was always neatly styled. She had dark blue-green eyes and nice full lips framing an attractive smile. Her cheeks were high and rosy. Her nose was kind of pointy, like a hawk's beak. Yeah, there were some bags and wrinkles that come with age, but overall not too bad. At any rate, there wasn't anything particularly physically appealing to me about Maggie. But I couldn't help noticing that submissive, man-pleasing gleam in her eyes. When I talked to her, Maggie returned my eye contact unflinchingly, but there was a subservience about it. When I see that look in a woman's eyes, right or wrong, I automatically think about her on her knees. Even so, I really wouldn't have been interested in her. On top of not being physically attractive to me, Maggie also came across as being very straight-laced. Naturally, I'm not looking for the prim and proper type, so I never even considered her at all, except during those conversations when I was looking into her eyes. It was a bit of a fluke that I got to thinking about her as part of my collection. I was in the cafeteria waiting in line to get lunch and one of my friends was going on and on about someone who had really rubbed him the wrong way. Four letter words were spewing out of this guy, and he wasn't exactly muttering under his breath. People were beginning to look in our direction, some clearly unhappy with his language. I was trying to nonchalantly gaze around the room to see who was noticing our conversation. I was looking in Maggie's general direction when my friend blurted out, "and then that fucking cocksucker told me that I'd be lucky to get it by next week!" Maggie's body stiffened, her head snapped up and our eyes met for an instant before she looked away. I could see a little bit more color than usual in her cheeks. My buddy's tirade went on as we got our lunches and found a place to sit. I was a bit uncomfortable with the attention he was drawing and kept looking around. I saw Maggie look over at us a couple more times, but she didn't react the way she had the first time. Either the shock had worn off, or it was something specific my friend had said that had bothered her. It clearly wasn't the f-bomb that had jolted her the first time, because he used that frequently, both before and after her reaction. I was wondering if 'cocksucker' had been the offending word. If Maggie was as straight-laced as she seemed, I could see her getting upset by that kind of language. I doubt it was a word she heard very often. But I didn't give the matter much more thought at the time. It wasn't until I ran into Maggie a couple days later that I even remembered the incident. She mentioned something in a vague way about having overhead the conversation. "Yeah, sorry about him," I said. "He's not a bad guy. He was just having a bad day." "Well," Maggie replied, "he should be more careful about using that kind of language in the cafeteria. Someone might complain." "Did you complain?" I asked, though I was pretty sure she wasn't the type. "Oh, no," she said quickly. "But some of the things he was saying..." During this conversation Maggie and I were maintaining pretty steady eye contact. Now I've said before that that can be one of the biggest sexual tension builders, but even so, I was surprised to feel it between me and Maggie. Usually, I make eye contact on purpose, deliberately creating the tension, but this time it was a spontaneous thing, almost accidental. I guess that's what prompted me to say what I said next. "Like 'cocksucker?'" I asked and saw Maggie stiffen the way she had in the cafeteria, her eyes getting wide with surprise. I guess that answered my question about which word in particular had offended her. She looked away from me, then back, then away again. "You shouldn't say words like that," she said at last. "It's just a word," I replied, looking into her eyes again for a long moment. "Why? You're not a, uh..." and I paused just long enough to see her eyes widen. I know she thought the next word out of my mouth would be 'cocksucker', but I was only yanking her chain. "...person who's offended that easily, are you?" I concluded. Maggie didn't sigh with relief or anything that obvious, but it was clear she was glad I hadn't said what she had feared. I smiled at her. "You didn't really think I was going to ask you if, uh..." Maggie shot me a warning look, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. She knew I was just teasing her. "You should quit while you're ahead," Maggie said, trying to sound stern. I hadn't thought about it before then, but she had kids that were not much younger than me. She was accustomed to being an authority figure in these circumstances. But I was having none of that. "A head?" I asked, deliberately separating 'ahead' into two words. "Hmmm... Freudian slip, perhaps? Maybe I should have asked that question." Maggie raised her eyebrows in a way that no doubt was supposed to convey disapproval. But the traces of a smile still clung to her lips and her eyes were still locked on mine, losing none of that spontaneous tension. I felt that little flutter in my stomach, the delightful by-product of playing sexually charged games. I could tell Maggie was feeling it too. She was still trying to maintain her stern expression, but her eyes weren't part of it. In them I again saw that doe-eyed submissive look. She was enjoying this exchange. It was at this particular moment that I first wondered if Maggie would suck my cock. I mean, I had thought about it before, but not really. It's one thing to think about every woman I talk to sucking my cock. It's quite another to stand in front of a woman and plan what I should say or do to get her to put me in her mouth; to have her suck my cock, not just daydream. The important thing I've found, is not to push. I'd say the first time I reach this point with a woman, where we're both a little charged up and thinking about each other that way, ninety percent of the time nothing more happens. At least not then. The times I've been aggressive have often ended in nothing happening anyway, so I've learned to back off and let the idea grow in the woman's mind a bit before trying to take things further. We stood not talking, just looking into each others' eyes for what seemed like a long time. It was probably only fifteen or twenty seconds, but I can tell you that feels like hours when all you're doing is looking at each other. I had a little smile, or maybe smirk would be a better word, on my face. Maggie's expression didn't tell me much about what she was thinking, but the fact that she stood looking at me that way said plenty. The moment passed and Maggie said she had to get back to work and hurried away. I watched her leave and acknowledged that her body was not very appealing to me. But it didn't matter. I didn't want to fuck her, I just wanted to see for myself if she was a cocksucker. At that point I was seriously beginning to wonder if I would see her lips wrapping around my shaft. Not that it would happen any time soon. But I was thinking it would happen eventually. "So, Maggie," I called after her. "Can I ask you a question?" She turned briefly and gave me a semi-serious look of disapproval before hurrying on her way. I only saw Maggie occasionally, and I made no special effort after that to bump into her more frequently. But when I did, I gave her a somewhat suggestive look, say something like, "Maggie, if you don't mind my asking..." and then give her a sly wink. At first I think Maggie was a little uptight about it. She played along, but it had a forced feel to it. After a while though, it just became an inside joke between us. We still had some tension going when we made eye contact, but the winking and the partially-asked question had become routine. During this time I was putting my energies into collecting other women and my attitude toward Maggie was it would happen if it would happen, but I wasn't going to put much effort into it. I honestly believed that Maggie would go down on me if I worked at it, but I wasn't excited enough about the prospect, so I just left things to happen or not on their own. I had a couple reasons for this. First, Maggie was not very sexual, in either appearance or demeanor. She just wasn't the type of person you got a charge out of looking at or talking to. Yeah, there was a little tension sometimes when our eyes met, but I got that from lots of women who were better looking and more likely to flirt with me. Second, I suspected she hadn't sucked much cock in her life and probably none recently, so it would be more of a novelty than a quality blow job. Yeah, it might be fun to stick my cock in the mouth of a woman who ordinarily wouldn't do that, perhaps who even thought of it as dirty or sinful. But it's not very realistic to expect a woman like that to suck cock very well. So if it's only a novelty, why work for it, right? That doesn't mean I didn't push things at all. But I was casual about it and really didn't care too much if anything came of it. Just a little push of the envelope now and then. It's kind of nice when I can sit back and play that game. Especially when it ends with me cumming in a woman's mouth. Maggie and I had long since worn out our "Can I ask you...?" routine. I mean, we were still doing it and smiling about it, but it didn't really mean anything now. It was just a cute inside joke. So, on the spur of the moment one day, I decided to put some new life into it. "So, Maggie," I began the next time I saw her. "I wanted to ask if, uh, well..." I waited for her to react to what had become our routine before adding my extra touch. "Well, are you?" Maggie gave me a blank look at first, not comprehending. When it dawned on her what I was asking, she gave me a little finger wag and a 'behave yourself' look, but I saw a bit of color rush to her cheeks as well. I tipped her a wink and went on my way, wondering exactly what thoughts were running through Maggie's head. The next time I saw her was almost a week later, but apparently our previous encounter was still fresh in her mind. As I started to ask the question, she interrupted me. "Don't even," Maggie said, raising an eyebrow. But a slight smile crept onto her face. "What?" I asked innocently. "You know," she replied. I could see the color starting to rise in her cheeks again. I was also looking into her eyes and enjoying that fluttery sensation that accompanies sexual possibilities. Let's face it, when your talking to a woman about cocksucking, no matter how it's disguised, it creates that feeling. "I just had a question," I persisted. She stared at me. I guess she wasn't sure what to say to me. "Are you?" I said softly after a moment or two. She looked at me a moment longer, then blinked and turned away, shaking her head. "You shouldn't... I... it's not very nice..." Maggie stammered, but I saw that faint smile again and figured she wasn't too offended. A bit flustered maybe, but not offended. "Not nice?" I asked. I was thinking that I should let it go, at least for now. But I continued anyway. "Yes, it's not nice to be crude like that," Maggie replied, getting a little indignation into her voice. "Crude to ask you if you're a..." I did the pause thing again and then finished as I had before. "...person who's easily offended?" "That's not what you were going to say," Maggie replied. "Or not what you were implying, anyway." "What did you think I was going to say?" I asked. "I don't use that kind of language," she said. "Fair enough," I told her. "How about yes or no?" "What?" "Well, if you know what I was going to say, you can answer without me saying it, right?" I gave her a slightly leering smile and raised my eyebrows a couple times. "No!" she shot back, rolling her eyes at me. She was trying to act disgusted to hide it, but I could see she was only playing out a role. I suspected Maggie was enjoying this, but she couldn't show it and still be the prim and proper person she wanted the world to see her as. "No, you can't answer or no, you're not a, uh..." "No! No, no, no!" Maggie said, trying not to raise her voice. "No to all of it!" She held her hand out, gesturing for me to stop. I said nothing. I just stood there looking at Maggie, who was avoiding my eyes as she regained her composure. When she looked up at me, she gave me a polite smile and excused herself. I swear though, there was something in her eyes that didn't want our little exchange to end. There was a look, perhaps it was longing. Whatever it was, it was crystal clear. Maggie was enjoying this forbidden fruit more than she wanted to admit. The next few times I saw Maggie I was on my best behavior. I was polite, smiling and saying hello to her each time. On a couple of those occasions we talked for a few minutes, but I no reference to our previous conversation. I stayed away from the whole routine. My thinking was that if anything was going to happen, she was going to have to give me some sort of encouragement. It can be tough to figure out how much stimulation a woman is looking for in these cases. So rather than arrogantly assume that every woman I think might want to suck my cock actually does, I leave a little bit of room for a woman to provide a clue. Some are very direct, others very enigmatic. Maggie was definitely in the enigmatic category. Now, I didn't doubt that she had gotten some excitement out of our exchanges. But to assume that that excitement could lead her to go against her seemingly very prudish background, well, that would be foolishly optimistic. So I played it cool and waited. After nearly a month of polite-only conversation, Maggie opened the door for me again. She commented how nice and polite I was being with her. I answered that I thought I might have offended her and didn't want to do so again. "I'll be honest," Maggie said to me. "I wasn't all that offended. Just a bit surprised." "Why were you surprised?" I asked. "You thought I was a nicer guy than that?" "No, no," she replied with a slight laugh. "It's just that you're, uh, you know, so much younger that I don't usually think in those terms when I talk to you." This didn't sound exactly honest to me. We had been joking along those lines for a while. Yeah, maybe I surprised her by going a step further, but it wasn't because we had never been sexually aware of each other. "No, you were getting offended," I said. "I didn't even have to say the word and your cheeks got red and you started getting annoyed with me. That's okay," I added as she started to protest. "You were right to be annoyed and offended. Who am I to ask you questions like that, right?" "Well, you were pretty close to crossing the line," Maggie conceded with a smile. "You really got uncomfortable," I observed. "I didn't even have to say the word and you got pretty uptight." "It's not the kind of word I'm used to hearing," Maggie said, a little bit of agitation in her voice. "And certainly not a word you should be using around a woman old enough to be your mother," she finished in her best adult-talking-to-a-child voice. "Unless..." I replied with a sly smile. "She is a..." Maggie's eyebrows shot up like a warning. Her eyes and mine were locked together and a lot of things were running through my head as I finished my sentence, "...cocksucker." Maggie rolled her eyes in disapproval, but again she was merely playing out a role. She seemed more amused than offended by what I said. "Why do you keep saying that?" Maggie asked. "Are you hoping to shock me?" "I guess I was just hoping to get a little rise out of you," I answered honestly enough. "Sometimes I like to poke people just to see their reactions." "So you're just having fun trying to shock an old lady?" Maggie said, folding her arms across her large breasts. I shrugged. "Something like that," I said. "Or maybe..." I gave her another sly look as my words trailed off. "Dream on," Maggie shot back. I shrugged again. "Oh, well," I said. "It was worth a shot." "Worth a shot?" Maggie asked. "To find out," I replied. I could see the uncertainty in Maggie's expression, so I spelled it out for her. "Find out if she's a..." "Stop it!" Maggie hissed in an emphatic whisper. She tried to give me an angry look, but she couldn't do it. First a smile slipped through, then a nervous laugh. "You're too much!" she said, still laughing. She rolled her eyes at me one last time and walked away. But she looked back once and the smile was still on her face. I guess it felt good to her to get attention from a young, good looking guy, even if the subject matter made her a little uncomfortable. I don't know. I do know that she looked at me differently after that. Maybe before she had looked at me as she would one of her kids' friends, but now she started looking at me with different eyes. There was still that same something in her gaze; that look that told me Maggie had potential for sucking my cock. But now there was a playfulness in it that wasn't there before. I really don't know if Maggie was interested in anything other than a little attention, some harmless, if risque, flirting. I don't know what her situation at home was and never asked. Even if she and her husband had an active sex life, I suspected oral sex was not a big part of it. If my flirting had Maggie thinking about sucking cock, and if she couldn't satisfy her cravings or curiosity at home, well... What I assumed I had on my hands was a good girl who was tempted by the idea of being bad. She couldn't be bad at home, so she'd have to look elsewhere. What I wasn't sure about was how bad she wanted to be. Or how bad she'd actually allow herself be. For a few months it seemed like she was content to let our conversations get a little steamy. I think she started wanting to hear me say 'cocksucker' while looking into her eyes. The Collector 17 For a while that seemed to be enough stimulation for her and I didn't really push the issue. But I did notice that Maggie initiated a lot of these conversations, and that I was seeing her around the office a lot more than I used to. It became obvious that she needed a little bit more excitement than our conversations were providing, but she had no idea how to take the next step. Now since this is a blow job journal, and since I've spent all this time telling you about Maggie, I think I won't be spoiling the ending if I tell you that she did wind up sucking my cock. There was no one conversation that we had that really sums up how we got to that point. After we got to a certain point, I started offering to meet her outside of work. At first, naturally, it was just part of our joking around. But each time I talked to her I extended the invitation again, more to intensify our flirting than because I expected her to say yes. I had no real expectations that she'd ever take me up on them. Slowly though, things progressed to the point where she was making excuses not to meet me. Maggie's excuses had started out dismissively as "I'm a married woman." But they gradually started coming out more along the lines of, "What if my husband found out?" All this time I can honestly say I never really knew if anything would happen. In fact, on the Saturday afternoon we arranged to meet, I wasn't sure if she'd show up until she actually did. I had her come to my apartment because she was too worried about being seen out in public. Even when she showed up, I wasn't sure anything would happen. Maggie was so nervous that I expected her to change her mind and leave at any moment. "Nervous?" I asked her. Maggie was still standing rigidly in the middle of my living room with her jacket on and her purse over her shoulder. She gave a short laugh. "Does it show?" "Can I at least take your jacket?" I offered. Maggie shrugged. "Maybe I should keep it on," she replied. "I should probably just go anyway." "Well, if you leave right away," I said slowly, trying to get her to look into my eyes. "I'll never get my answer." I figured there was no point in holding back. She was here and she was either going to go for it or leave. Either way, I doubted she'd ever be back. "And I really want to find out," I continued as Maggie's eyes finally met mine, "if you're the cocksucker I suspect you might be." It was funny to see her blush. I must have said the word 'cocksucker' to her a hundred times and until fairly recently it had always caused her cheeks to color. In all that time though, I had never actually said that I thought she was a cocksucker. That new wrinkle, combined with her nervousness about being in my apartment, no doubt, caused her to blush again. But it made her smile too. "No, I'm not," Maggie said to me. "Well, I did once, but that was so long ago that it doesn't count." "Maggie," I said to her, shaking my head. "Don't you know how it works? Once you've sucked a cock, you're a cocksucker for the rest of your life!" I was giving her my best leering smile, looking into her eyes the whole time. I think it was at this very moment that I first believed that Maggie would give me head. That look in her eyes that had gotten me started on her so many months ago was there, but it was somehow amplified. The fact that she was still blushing and smiling probably had something to do with it as well, but it was her eyes that I noticed most. "Tell me about it," I suggested. Maggie shrugged and set down her purse. She shrugged off her jacket and looked at me. "Well, it was before I met my husband, so that should tell you it was quite a while ago," she said with a short laugh. "I only did it the one time and honestly, I can't really remember much about it now." I looked at Maggie skeptically. She noticed my look. "It was a long time ago," she said defensively. "And," she admitted, "I might have had a glass or two of wine!" Maggie laughed at her little confession. "Is that why you're here?" I asked. "Because you don't remember?" Maggie looked at me and shrugged. I really don't think she could articulate what she had come for. Some excitement, sure. To experience what was, for her, a taboo? Maybe, but it wasn't quite that simple. "I guess I want an answer to the same question you do," Maggie said, her eyes shifting from mine to the floor, then slowly back to mine again. I stood there making eye contact with her for a long moment, letting the tension build a little. I was hoping that a little excitement would help overcome her nervousness. It seemed to be working, so I slowly took a couple steps toward her. She was wearing her usual staple: a nice white blouse and a crisp, dark colored pair of slacks. She had put on her makeup, so her face looked nice. Her lips were an inviting ruby red. All in all, not someone I would normally be with. But there is a thrill that I get from having a woman do for me what she wouldn't do, or hadn't done, for other men. If Maggie was as inexperienced a cocksucker as she claimed, I might get a bad blow job. But I'd be getting it from a woman who said she didn't even put her husband's cock in her mouth. As I slowly crossed the room to her, I could see Maggie's breathing getting heavier. The smile was gone from her face and she almost looked scared. But she also looked very excited. The combination of fear and arousal were clearly having quite an effect on her. I would have bet anything that her panties were getting pretty wet. I stopped arms length from her, still with my eyes locked on hers. Maggie was still doing the heavy breathing thing, though she seemed to be trying to calm herself. I waited a moment, letting the tension build as well as giving her a chance to get herself under control. Then, still looking into her eyes, I unzipped my fly. My cock was already three-quarters erect as I eased it from my pants. Maggie glanced down at it, gasping slightly as she did, then back up at my face. She looked down at it a couple more times, her breathing once again getting heavy. She must have realized that this was the moment of truth. If she was going to do it, now was the time. I'll give her credit. It must have been one of the biggest leaps of her life to lower herself to her knees, putting her face inches from my cock. She knelt there, looking up at me for a long moment. I felt my cock getting harder as I nodded for her to go ahead. I could see Maggie's shoulders hunch slightly as she took one last deep breath before leaning forward and opening her mouth. It was a tantalizingly slow moment between her lips parting and her head coming forward as she engulfed my stiffening member. Maggie's first contact with me was very tentative. Her lips closed around my shaft just below the head and she didn't move at first. I don't know if she was savoring the novelty of having a man's cock in her mouth or if she was just too nervous or too uncertain to do anything. Her lips were warm and the head of my cock throbbed appreciatively. I gave Maggie a little moan of encouragement. Slowly, she pushed her lips further down me. She only went about an inch before coming back up, but it was a start. She did this a couple more times, getting a little more confident with each pass. It was clear she was still a bit nervous. I had to do something to loosen her up or I knew it was going to be bad. "Maggie," I said softly. She looked up at me, my cock slipping from her mouth. "I knew it. You're a cocksucker." Her cheeks got immediately rosy and she backed away from me. "Hey! You shouldn't say that!" she said. We just looked at each other wordlessly for a long moment before Maggie resumed. I waited until she leaned forward and took me into her mouth again before replying. "What's that in your mouth, Maggie?" I said after she had done a couple more shallow bobs. "It's a cock, isn't it?" Once again she sat back on her heels, leaving my cock pointing at her face from a foot away. She looked up at me, giving me one of her 'behave' looks, but as usual, a smile was creeping in behind it. "If you put this in your mouth," I continued, taking my cock in hand and waving it at her, "it makes you a...?" I looked down at her and winked. Maggie shook her head, but she was smiling. "Would you stop?" she said. "I am not!" Even as she said it, she leaned forward and took me into her mouth again. She was slightly less tentative now. She had taken hold of my cock with her hand and was going a little bit further down my shaft. Still, it was hardly what I'd call getting good head. "Maggie," I said to her. She looked up, but this time didn't take me out of her mouth. "You know what's worse than being a cocksucker?" She backed off again, but this time because she was smiling too much to keep me in her mouth. "A bad cocksucker," I finished. Maggie just sat there for a moment looking up at me. She had a half-smile on her lips, but I sensed something was wrong. I waited, but she didn't resume sucking. "You know," Maggie said at last. "I think I'd like to do this. But not if you're going to keep calling me that." I was a little surprised, I admit. But I probably shouldn't have been. She was already well out of her comfort zone. For me to keep pushing her the way I had, well, it was understandable if she started to push back. I nodded my head to indicate I understood and Maggie leaned forward again. I let her bob on me for another minute or two before pulling away from her. She looked up in surprise. I led her over to the sofa where I pulled off my pants and sat down. I guided her to her knees between my legs. Now I prefer to be standing with the woman kneeling in front of me when I get my cock sucked. But I knew it would be easier this way for Maggie. Plus, if she continued to give me sub-par head, I would have an easier time cumming if I was sitting down. Maggie surprised me by running her hands up and down my thighs a few times, sighing appreciatively. Her hands met at my balls, cupping and rubbing them gently before running down the insides of my legs again. She squeezed the muscles of my calves and thighs, which were lean and firm, and let out a soft moan. Clearly, she was starting to loosen up and enjoy things a little more. When Maggie had satisfied her desire to caress my thighs, she returned her attention to my cock. I watched as the short dark hair on the back of her head went slowly up and down in my lap. I gave her a few encouraging sighs, even though she wasn't doing that much better than before. I also ran my fingers lightly across her cheeks, through the hair above her ears and along the back of her neck. Occasionally, I hit a spot that really did something for her and she shuddered a little in response. I let her go on for a good ten minutes or so with like that, giving her a moan now and then as she bobbed on the first inch or two of my shaft. After a while though, I just stopped making any noise and sat there letting her continue. She kept going for a couple more minutes before she realized. "What's wrong?" Maggie asked, sitting back on her heels. "Nothing's wrong," I said. "It's just that..." I trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious. "Not any good, huh?" Maggie looked disappointed. For a moment I thought I might actually see tears. "Well..." I started, not sure what to say. I can't really say I was surprised that she wasn't very good. I was more surprised that she put me in her mouth in the first place. "What am I doing wrong?" she asked. Now there's no good answer to that question, because I never want to be critical of a woman who is on her knees and trying to please me. And I don't want to say everything's fine when it obviously isn't. I gave her the best short answer I could. "It's just that this is supposed to be a passionate thing and a woman has to be willing to do it passionately, without holding back. You, uh, well, you're a little uptight about it." We looked into each others eyes as I said this and Maggie nodded thoughtfully. She sat on her heels a few moments longer. I guess she was thinking about how to be more passionate in her approach. I waited, hoping my erection wouldn't fade and further discourage her. Maggie looked up at me from between my legs and, licking her lips, rocked forward, putting her face inches from my cock. She grasped it firmly in her hand and kissed it. She licked away a little dribble of precum that had formed before kissing the base of my shaft and running her tongue up the underside of it. She pressed my hard member against one of her cheeks, then the other. Her lips and tongue pressed against the side of my cock, sliding up and down several times before moving to the other side. Looking up into my eyes, Maggie opened her mouth and, pulling my cock toward her, slipped me back into her mouth. With her head tilted back to make eye contact, all she could do was put the head of my shaft in her mouth. But she ran her tongue over my tip as her eyes stayed locked on mine. She slipped me out of her mouth, gave me a curious little smile and then took me into her mouth again. Once again Maggie was bobbing on my shaft. She was bobbing a little bit faster now, which wasn't necessarily an improvement, but otherwise it was more of the same. She went at it for only a minute or two before realizing that she wasn't making me feel any better than she had before. She sat back again. "Can't you just tell me what I should do?" she asked. I guess I could have given her some basic instructions, but I was thinking her problem was more in her attitude toward cocksucking. She was uptight about it, plain and simple. Even as she was kneeling there trying to please me with her mouth, something in her brain was telling her what she was doing was wrong or dirty or whatever. And it resulted in her giving head in a dry, passionless manner. At least, that's what I was guessing. Not having much experience certainly didn't help her, but I think there's a difference. You can tell women who throw themselves whole-heartedly into sucking cock. Even if they have bad technique, their desire to suck cock is very evident. Maggie didn't have that desire. She was merely satisfying a curiosity, a craving to be dirty, if only for a moment. When she was done, she wanted to go back to being her prim and proper self. She really didn't want to like sucking cock, or enjoy it. She just wanted to try it. She wanted a dirty little thrill that no one would ever know about and which she could later pretend had never happened. "It's not that simple," I replied to her question. "It's more of an attitude than a how-to thing." Maggie frowned at me, not getting it. "Look," I said. "Repeat after me. 'I am a...'" She looked at me uncertainly. "Why?" she asked. "Say, 'I am a...' and then fill in that last word." "I'm not going to say that!" Maggie said. I looked at her and nodded thoughtfully. "I know. That's part of your problem." Maggie frowned at me again. I think she assumed at first that I was just playing with her, trying to get her to say something she didn't want to say. But I just sat there looking back at her, giving her a chance to reconsider. "You think if I say it, I'll just magically be able to do it?" she said, not without a bit of sarcasm. "The reason you aren't good at it is because of your attitude toward it," I responded. "Maybe if you weren't so uptight about saying it, you'd be relaxed enough to enjoy doing it." Our eyes met for a long moment. "That's the key," I continued. "To want to do it. To enjoy doing it." "And if I say it, I'll suddenly like doing it?" More sarcasm. I was getting tired of the talk and was considering just letting her do what she did until I came, with fake moans to keep her going if necessary. But I gave it another shot first. "I'm not saying you'd ever like doing it," I explained. "But there's no chance you will if it's such a dirty thing in your mind that you can't even say what it is or what you are for doing it." Maggie sat between my legs reflecting for a few minutes. She suddenly realized that my erection was beginning to fade. She reached out and gave me a couple gentle strokes to help keep me hard. "So," she said finally, looking at my cock in her hand. "You think I think this is dirty and I won't enjoy it because I tell myself I'm not the type of person who would enjoy something that was?" "Something like that." "Well, I don't really know if I like it or not," Maggie admitted. "It's like I get a sort of thrill out of it, but..." She looked at me and shrugged. "You think that I might like it if I didn't think it was... I don't know... slutty?" "We'll never know unless you give it a fair try," I replied. Trust me, this is not the conversation any man wants to have while trying to get his cock sucked. I was ready to throw her out or beat off or both at that point. But I held out because there was nothing to lose. If she kept at it the way she had, I'd get to cum in her mouth but it would still be a lousy blow job. If she gave up and left, I'd miss the cum-in-her-mouth part, but not the bad blow job. "Tell me that you're a cocksucker," I tried again. Maggie looked at me and for a moment I didn't know which way things would go. "I... I'm a..." Maggie faltered, blushing. She gave a nervous little laugh. "I really don't think this is going to help," she said. "A what?" "A co..." Maggie clearly thought this was absurd. Or, at least that's what the expression on her face said. What she was really thinking I couldn't tell. "What are you?" "A cocksucker," she said at last with another nervous laugh. "I can't believe I just said that!" "Say it with the 'I am,'" I instructed. "I am a cocksucker," Maggie said, shaking her head and smiling. It came a little easier the second time. "Say it again." "I'm a cocksucker!" The embarrassed smile on her face widened as she said it. "Again!" I said, starting to smile myself. "That's enough!" Maggie yelled back at me. We both cracked up laughing and the mood lightened considerably. I can't say I saw a difference in Maggie's eyes or anything hokey like that, but I do know there was a difference in how things went after that. Maggie was a little more playful, less rigid. I'm not saying it's because she said the word 'cocksucker.' It might just have been that we started laughing and it made it easier for her to relax. For my part, I was happy to see her do a better job of sucking my cock and, truth be told, I got a little rise out of getting Maggie to say she was a cocksucker. Don't ask me why. It was childish, really. And I may very well have cooked up the whole rationale I gave her just to hear her say that she was. "So Maggie," I said to her, wagging my cock toward her face. "If you are what you say you are, what would you like to do now?" I held my cock steady before her. She opened her mouth and leaned forward to take me inside, but I pulled away. "Tell me first!" Maggie laughed and shook her head. "That's enough!" she told me. "You got me to say it. Be happy with that and let me get back to sucking your cock!" She opened her mouth, but we both began laughing again and she had to pull back. "Gawd, I don't believe the language coming out of my own mouth!" As our laughter subsided, Maggie came forward and put me in her mouth again. This time she didn't start bobbing right away. She just wrapped her lips around my shaft and held me there. It was warm and sensual, just sitting there with my cock in her mouth. She inched her way down, a little at a time. She never got more than half way, but I could tell she was taking in as much as she could, wanting to feel, I suppose, what it was like to have her mouth filled with cock. She went slowly up and down on me, but I got the impression it was different this time. Maggie seemed more relaxed, more into the act of giving head. The Collector 17 Maggie's lips slid slowly up and down on me. I couldn't see her face, but I would bet her eyes were closed. My cock, which had wilted a bit in the interim, was back to full hardness. I sat back and relaxed and let Maggie pleasure me. As she sucked, her fingers slid under my shirt and up my chest. Maggie clearly enjoyed running her hands across my body. She let out soft moans as her hands caressed the muscles of my chest. Maggie also sighed as I ran my fingers along her neck and cheeks, through her hair. Her lips continued to glide up and down my shaft, which was now moistened with her saliva. Overall, it was a very pleasant cocksucking Maggie was giving me. After several minutes of this, she paused. "I could see liking this," Maggie said, running her tongue along the vein under my cock. "Not a lot, of course," she said with a laugh. She bobbed on me a few more times before continuing. "I think I'm ready for what's next," Maggie said. "I wasn't sure before, but now I think it's okay." I looked at her, not exactly sure what she meant. Did she want to have sex with me? My confusion must have been evident, because she hastened to explain. "I didn't know if I would do everyth..." she stopped herself, drew a quick breath and said, "I didn't know if I could deal with you, uh, you know... in my mouth." She looked up at me and shrugged. "But I guess if I'm going to do this..." she shrugged again, a silly grin on her face. Maggie lowered her mouth over my cock again and resumed her sucking. Her lips moved faster now up and down my shaft and her strokes got shorter. I watched her dark haired head bobbing in my lap and wondered what she would do when I pumped my load into her mouth. Would she gag? Spit? Swallow? I was really curious, especially after her admission that she wasn't originally going to let me cum in her mouth. Maggie bobbed on my shaft for several more minutes before I started getting close. I murmured encouragement to her to keep her at it, moaning occasionally too. When I felt my orgasm become inevitable, I gave her a long, deep moan. My cock swelled, my balls tightened and a moment later my load sprayed into Maggie's mouth. She stopped sucking as the first gooey wad shot into her mouth, clamping her lips around me just below the head of my cock. She waited as a second and third spurt flew out of me onto her tongue. When she finally lifted her head, I could see that pinched expression on her brow as she struggled to swallow the cum I had pumped into her mouth. When Maggie sat back, she had a different expression on her face. The excitement and thrill were gone. Now she looked almost downcast. Regret? Perhaps. But there was something else mixed in that I didn't recognize right away. Not until she asked me where the bathroom was. Then I knew. Maggie ran off to the bathroom and, I assume, vomited up the cum she had just swallowed. When she came back, she looked flustered and agitated. I asked if she was okay and she just shook her head. I guess in the heat of the moment, it was thrilling enough that her normal judgment could be suspended. Once things were over and she had to look at what she did without any excitement to distract her, I guess she didn't feel so good about her choices. Or maybe swallowing cum really grossed her out. I tried to calm her down and help her, but I was probably the last person she wanted to comfort her at that point. Maggie didn't say anything, but the way she shook her head and looked at me said she was more than just a little regretful. For a moment I thought she was going to run back to the bathroom and vomit again. Then Maggie grabbed her purse and jacket and bolted for the front door. I watched in stunned disbelief as she left. I was completely caught off guard by her reaction and I wouldn't have known what to say or do anyway. I did feel a bit of remorse. If I had known that she would react that way, I never would have gotten together with her. There are too many women out there who will suck my cock without guilt or remorse for me to pick a woman who I'd hurt. After that, it was a long time before Maggie even acknowledged me again. And even after she started talking to me, she never mentioned what had happened between us. In fact, she rarely ever even looked me in the eye again. It was strange, to say the least. Like I said at the beginning, this entry is less about the blow job than the woman giving it. I think Maggie qualifies as the least likely woman to suck my cock that actually sucked my cock. I don't think anyone who actually knows Maggie would believe for an instant that she had had a man almost half her age cum in her mouth. So, as for rating Maggie, well, maybe a seven or so. I will say I was impressed that she swallowed my cum, even if it didn't stay down. And in all honesty, I don't know if she puked or not. I watched her swallow it, so I know she did that. Maybe she just ran to get some mouthwash or a drink or something. I've obviously never had the opportunity to ask her for a clarification. I was also very impressed that she got down on her knees in the first place when I took out my cock. I really didn't know if she'd actually do it. She looked good on her knees too. I know--what woman doesn't, right? Anyway, my point is, that although Maggie was clearly not a woman who was going to give me a particularly stimulating blow job, the novelty of having her give me head in the first place more than made up for any lack of physical pleasures. What I really wish had happened was that Maggie would have actually enjoyed the thrill of sucking my cock and would have wanted to do it again. I think I could have helped her improve her skills a little. And I would have gotten quite an ego kick out of turning a prude like her into an avid closet cocksucker. Then again, for all I know, she really did enjoy it and that's the reason she avoided me ever since. She may have said she was a cocksucker to me, but I don't think she ever wanted to really enjoy being one. The Collector 18 The biggest challenge in pursuing my collection, obviously, has been finding new women to suck my cock. The internet has been quite useful in this respect, but very few of the women I've met that way have wound up in my journal. The reason isn't that I didn't get some very good blow jobs from these women. No, it has more to do with the fact that those entries would be almost identical. Yeah, there would be a different name and different face. And, of course, there are variations in where and how these women have gone down on me. But there would be very little background information about the woman doing the deed because the truth is, I hardly know them. I've been selective as to which blow jobs I've written about. I prefer to write about the ones where I know the women well enough to give my readers a good description of who she is, what she's like and how I managed to get her on her knees. If it was just a name and a description of her cocksucking, this journal would be boring to read as well as write. I want to write what's fun for me to write about and I assume that readers don't particularly want to be bored either. What makes this next entry so nice is that it's blow job that practically fell into my lap from a woman I already knew a bit about. When I was in high school, one of my sisters was a couple years behind me. When I was a senior, she and all her friends were sophomores. One of her friends, Shayla, apparently had quite a crush on me at the time. I was only marginally aware of her and didn't do anything to encourage her, but I guess she noticed me. Shayla looked even younger than she was, and a two year age difference can be quite a lot in high school anyway. She was also painfully shy around me in those days, so it wasn't like we talked much. She simply had a crush on me and was content to watch from a distance. And I hardly noticed her at all. What I do remember about Shayla from high school, apart from her shyness, was that she was pretty chunky. She had a very cute face, but she was roly-poly. She had soft brown eyes, reddish brown hair that she kept pulled back in a pony tail all the time. She was very fair skinned with freckles and her cheeks and nose were always pink. Also, I can't remember ever seeing her not wearing a baggy sweatshirt, even in hot weather. After high school I went off to college and hardly saw her at all over the next couple of years. When I did see her again, I hardly recognized her. It was at my sister's graduation and when they called Shayla's name, I looked expecting to see the roly-poly girl she had been when I was in high school. But Shayla had changed. Even under her gown it was obvious that she had lost a lot of weight. That wasn't what really got my attention though. It was the way she carried herself. Shayla had always had a mousy, almost hunched way of walking. Now, as she walked away with her diploma, her back was straight, shoulders back and her head was held high. By the way she was walking I could also tell that she was wearing heels, which was something I had never seen her do before either. I ran into her once or twice over the course of that summer. Shayla was still a bit shy around me, but we did talk a little bit. I still thought of her as my kid sister's friend and most of our talk was me giving her advice about college. Yeah, I had two years of under my belt and in my mind that made me an expert. To her credit, she listened attentively, though I don't know if that was because she valued my advice or if she still had a crush on me. I did notice that Shayla was starting to blossom into quite a nice looking young woman. She was still a little thick in the hips and thighs and probably always would be. But the difference was that she now had the womanly curves that she had lacked before. Shayla also had incredibly large breasts and now that she no longer wore only baggy sweatshirts, they were impossible not to notice. They were probably D's or double D's and I found it difficult not to stare at them. However big her breasts were though, she was still in the kid-sister category. I was having my fun in college, usually with women who were my age or older and I never really gave Shayla much thought in those terms. Over the next few years I spent less and less time around my parents house and consequently saw Shayla hardly at all. Once in a while she would stop by to visit my sister when I was home for a holiday or something, but our paths rarely crossed. I didn't have more than a few conversations with her in all that time. Mostly they were about how college was going for her, how college, and later job hunting, were going for me. Shayla had outgrown a lot of her high school shyness by this time and she was seeming less like one of my sister's friends and more like her own woman. Still, there wasn't anything about our infrequent conversations that would have led me to think of Shayla in sexual terms. True, she had mammoth breasts that I had trouble keeping my eyes off of, but there wasn't any flirting between us. I don't even know if she had any boyfriends during this period of time because we simply didn't talk about things like that. After I graduated college I didn't see Shayla for a few years. I had heard from my sister that she had finished her degree and gone on to law school. Later I heard that she was living "near" me. I say "near" because she was living in the same state, not particularly close to me. But when you live far away from your family, they think anyone in the same state as you is "near" you. My sister even went so far as to give me Shayla's email address so we could get together. I didn't see the point in telling my family that Shayla didn't live all that close to me. I also didn't see the point in sending her an email, because we really didn't know what we'd have to talk about if we did get together. I had hardly talked to the woman since we were in college and without person in common present, like my sister, I didn't know how things would go. Yeah, the thought of her huge breasts tempted me, but in the end, I just let the matter go. You have to understand that my family wasn't trying to hook me up. They just assumed that both Shayla and I, being so far from home, might get homesick or something like that. I was enjoying life, had made new friends and never felt a pressing need to have any close contacts from home. I might have been a little annoyed by my family for assuming that I needed their help making friends. Or maybe I felt like they wanted someone checking up on me. I don't know. The bottom line is, I never emailed Shayla. It was a few years after that I finally saw Shayla again. My sister had come to visit Shayla and arranged for the three of us to get together for dinner one night. Living far from home, I don't get to see much of my family and naturally I wasn't going to miss a chance to visit with my sister. I really wasn't thinking much about Shayla when I accepted the invitation. Well, I have to say that I was blindsided. If my sister hadn't been sitting with her, I wouldn't have recognized Shayla. She was, plain and simply, stunning. It wasn't just her physical appearance, though she did look great. Shayla was poised, witty and outgoing, a totally different person from the shy, sweatshirt-clad girl I remembered. The three of us had a terrific time that night and we wound up staying at the bar and talking for several hours after dinner. Shayla's red-brown hair that she had always worn pulled back in a pony tail was now immaculately styled, falling in silky waves just above her shoulders. It was also streaked with blonde highlights. Her once-freckled face was now clear and slightly tan. Her thighs and hips, while still a little thick, were tantalizingly feminine, especially when I saw her walk in high heels. Her breasts were every bit as large as I remembered and the low-cut top she was wearing showcased them deliciously. I guess the biggest thing that was different about Shayla was that she knew men were looking at her and she was relishing it. She was enjoying the way men's heads turned to follow her as she crossed a room. Not that she was craving attention in a vain or insecure way that some beautiful women do. No, she was enjoying herself and her life and that was just a perk. At the end of the night as we were getting ready to leave, my sister excused herself to use the ladies room. When she walked away, Shayla handed me a business card. "You don't live that far away," Shayla said. "We could get together sometime if you'd like." I smiled and said that sounded like a good idea. Walking out, I couldn't help notice how round and firm her ass was and how it swished gracefully with her hips as she walked away in her high heels. While we waited near the entrance for my sister to return, Shayla turned and gave me a funny look that I didn't immediately understand. "You know," she said, and then paused. Then she just shook her head. "Nah, nothing. Never mind." There was a sheepish grin on her face and I asked her what she was going to say. "Nothing really," she said. "Well," she said again after a moments hesitation, "when we were kids, I had the biggest crush on you." She smiled and looked me in the eye, but quickly looked away. Before I could say anything, my sister returned and the three of us left. Now when Shayla had handed me her card, which had her home number and email address on it, I had every intention of calling and/or emailing her. She had turned into quite a hottie and I was definitely interested in seeing her again. When she told me about having a crush on me in high school though, I got a little concerned. I had had a similar thing happen with a girl from my graduating class. Without going into too much detail, let's just say that I thought we were just a couple of consenting adults having a bit of fun. But she was apparently expecting something far more serious from me, even though she was married with a couple of kids. I don't want to have my fun at the expense of anyone else's feelings, so I'm naturally leery of getting involved with women who might be expecting something meaningful to come from it. Yeah, I've said it before, I'm a shallow, self-centered dog who's just out trying to get his cock sucked. But I do try to avoid hurting anyone while I'm getting my rocks off. Anyway, Shayla's admission that she had had a crush on me in high school set off the warning alarms in my head. I decided that, while it might be a lot of fun to see Shayla, I was probably better off keeping her at a distance. So I waited over a week before I emailed her, and I kept my email pretty bland. It was a lot of "nice to see you again" type stuff and I didn't suggest anything about getting together again. Shayla noticed this omission and emailed back to ask if I wanted to get together with her again. My reply was a "yes, but." I said I was busy and didn't know when I'd be able to make it out to see her. Shayla was a smart woman and clearly saw my brush-off for what it was. Her reply was blunt. Her feeling wouldn't be hurt if I simply didn't want to get together with her, whatever the reason. But I should have the decency and balls to be honest with her. I thought about that and then sent her an honest reply. I told her that I was seeing other women. I said it in a way that I thought made it pretty clear I was a bit of a player. I obviously didn't tell her about my collection, but I did make it clear that I was not a one-woman man. Shayla's response took me down a peg or two. "I'm not in the market for a man and even if I was, don't flatter yourself. I may have had a crush on you when I was a kid, but that was then and this is now. I think we could have some fun hanging out once in a while, but I don't want you to get the idea that I'm still fantasizing about you sweeping me off my feet! LOL!" There was a lot more to her email and the overall tone was more joking than the little bit I quoted might indicate. I sent a suitably humble reply and we wound up agreeing to get together shortly after that. That first "date" if you will, was as much fun, perhaps more, than the dinner we had had with my sister there. I made sure to make it a weeknight, just in case, so I could always make the excuse of having to be at work early if things didn't go well. But they did and then I was a little sorry that I had set it up the way I had. During our conversation, Shayla told me, not without a lot of embarrassed laughter, about her high school crush on me. "I used to fantasize about you driving up to my house, knocking on the door and telling me to get my things and come with you," Shayla laughed. "The best part was that I didn't even want to know where you were going, only that you were taking me with you." I laughed along with her. My car at the time was quite a rust-bucket and only a starry-eyed school girl could have ever seen it as her knight's white horse. Shayla had a disarming way of talking about those days and her school girl crush. I never felt like she was telling me about it to make me feel bad that I hadn't paid more attention to her then. Nor did she make me feel like it was something she expected me to act on now. It was just a fun, if slightly embarrassing, reminiscence. Shayla was such a different person now that it was difficult to remember the timid girl she had been. I think that confidence and intelligence are two of the sexiest characteristics a woman can have and Shayla had them both in abundance. I guess it was because she didn't seem the slightest bit insecure or needy as she recounted her teenage crush that I was able to listen and laugh without reservation. Dinner ended with a polite kiss and we went our separate ways. But we continued to email each other regularly. In the course of our correspondence, Shayla made it clear she found me attractive. She was also careful to distance herself from the crush she had had on me. She never came out and said it, or even did a good job of implying it, but I definitely got the impression she was thinking about me in sexual terms. Of course, I had been looking at her in those terms ever since the dinner with my sister. I just hesitated to act on it because I was worried Shayla might have deeper expectations. The other thing that held me back, perhaps the only thing once I knew she was long over her crush, was the fact that she was a long term friend of my family. I could see it being a bit awkward getting together with my sister and Shayla if we had some sort of quick fling or something like that. I hinted around at my concerns. Shayla's reply once again was that I shouldn't be so full of myself. Two consenting adults who were attracted to each other should be able to get together and have a little fun and walk away without all that baggage. I don't know that I was convinced, but I'm a guy, so I wasn't going to turn her down. It wasn't until a few weeks later that we actually got together again. We picked a Friday night this time and Shayla suggested a restaurant near her. I took her choice of restaurants to mean that we'd be going back to her house after dinner, which was fine with me. I think both of us felt pretty confident about how the evening was going to turn out, so our conversation was a lot more flirtatious. At first it was a little strange flirting with Shayla, openly acknowledging that I wanted to sleep with her. But she was beautiful and charming and we talked as easily as we had on our previous date. The glass or two of wine we each had didn't hurt either. After dinner I had a warm, good feeling about how things were going and I was looking forward to where the rest of the night would take us. As I suspected, Shayla invited me to follow her back to her place. Now my sister, during the dinner with the three of us, had made some comments about Shayla's house. Even so, I was stunned by the size of it. The house was not only huge (by my humble standards, anyway), it was also gorgeous inside and out. I knew Shayla was a successful lawyer these days, but I guess I didn't realize just how successful she was. Every room was furnished and decorated very tastefully. The bedroom that had been converted to her home office was larger than the living room of my apartment. She laughed and waved her hand dismissively when I said so. "Oh, it's not all that," she said, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Just a humble abode for a simple working girl." She laughed even as she said it. Now she wasn't showing off or bragging really. She was just proud of what she had accomplished and her house was a tangible measure of those accomplishments. Probably Shayla had enjoyed showing my sister the house too, because we could appreciate just how much she had done with herself. When she finished giving me a tour, she brought me back to her living room and directed me to pick a bottle off of the wine rack and open it. "I'm just going to, uh, slip into something more comfortable." We both laughed at her use of the cliche, but I couldn't help wondering exactly she was going to slip into. I could feel my pulse starting to pick up a bit at the thought. I wasn't disappointed. I opened a bottle of wine and poured each of us a glass. Then I sat down on the sofa and waited for her to return. A few minutes later she did, nearly making my eyes pop out of my head. Shayla was wearing only a silky sheer night gown that left very little to the imagination. It fell just below her knees but did little to hide anything under it. The outline of her nipples and her ample breasts was clearly visible beneath the thin covering. Her hips and legs were also silhouetted for my eyes to absorb. Even the shadow of that slice of heaven between her thighs seemed to be showing. Shayla stood just inside the doorway as if waiting for me to look her up and down, which I couldn't help but do. She smiled warmly at my reaction. She came over, picked up her wine glass and sat down beside me. "I hope you don't mind my, uh..." Shayla indicated her gown. Before I could say that I obviously didn't mind, she added, "What I really like is to be naked, but I figured this was better. At least for starters." My head was whirling as I pictured Shayla walking into the room completely naked. I was getting very aroused at the thought. "Naked is fine with me," I said, taking a sip of my wine. I was feeling a warmth inside that had nothing to do with the alcohol. The thought of this gorgeous woman standing before me without a stitch of clothing really had my blood pumping. To my surprise and delight, Shayla stood up and shrugged off her thin gown. It fell around her feet with the softest whisper. I looked up into her eyes, but only for an instant. The temptation of her exposed body was too much for me and my eyes darted greedily down to her ample breasts. They were magnificently large and firm, her nipples wonderfully erect. I followed the luscious curves of her hips to her firm, supple thighs, then to the soft, neatly trimmed hair of her mound. I must have run my eyes over her entire body a half dozen times before I finally looked back into her eyes. Shayla just smiled the same way she had when she had shown me her house. She was clearly proud of her body and, fortunately, not put off by my drooling over it. She stood there, patiently waiting for me to drink in my fill of her. Then she sat back down next to me, sitting close enough for her bare skin to rub against me. We sat there taking sips of our wine and looking into each other's eyes, but neither of us seemed to have much to say. We smiled foolishly at each other for a minute or two before we finally put our wine glasses down and started making out. Our lips quickly found each other as our arms pulled our bodies together. I felt the soft warmth of Shayla's breasts pressed against my chest as her tongue slipped in and out of my mouth. My hands ran down her back then back up to caress her melon-like boobs. She moaned softly as I gently squeezed them and ran my fingertips across her nipples. The Collector 18 Shayla's hand descended to my crotch and she began rubbing my stiffening member through my pants. I shifted to give her a better angle even as my own fingers went exploring through her silky soft pubic hairs. The tip of my index finger was greeted with warm wetness as I nestled it in between her pussy lips. She groaned and parted her legs further in response. She also squeezed my cock harder and started digging at my zipper. I pulled away from her before she could get my fly undone. When Shayla looked at me in surprise, I gently pushed her back on the sofa and slid my face down between her thighs. The musky aroma of her pussy was thick around me as I gently started licking her. Shayla was one of those women who responds very quickly to direct stimulation like that and in moments her hips were bucking on the sofa. Her first orgasm took only minutes but I didn't let up, even as she screamed and dug her fingernails into my shoulder. I lapped her gently after she came and soon she was squirming and moaning as her second orgasm began to build. By the time she erupted the second time, her brow was drenched in sweat and her breaths were deep and rapid. I would have kept going. It took hardly any effort on my part and my tongue was nowhere near tired. But Shayla pushed my head away. "Whoa," she sighed. "That's enough for now." She wiped the beads of perspiration from her brow and sat up, still catching her breath. "Why don't you let me have a turn," she said as she reached again for my zipper. Now I enjoy eating a woman out, especially if I can make her cum a time or two while I'm doing it. And it's especially great when I make her feel so good that she's eager to return the favor. As I stood to let Shayla pulled my pants down, I knew that was the kind of cocksucking she was going to give me. I kicked my pants off and sat back down on the sofa. Shayla unbuttoned my shirt, spread it wide and began running her hands over my chest. She kissed my lips, then my chin and neck and slowly began kissing her way down my chest. My cock stiffened in anticipation as she deliberately made her way down, kissing my belly and the skin just above the base of my cock. She paused for a moment and I waited expectantly for the warmth of her mouth to engulf me. I was sitting on the sofa and Shayla was kneeling on it with her head in my lap, so all I could see was her neatly styled hair. I have no idea what she was doing, but the anticipation of feeling her mouth on me was killing me. Then she shifted slightly and started kissing her way down my thigh. I let out my pent up breath in a rush, at once both disappointed she hadn't started sucking and thrilled that she was continuing to build my anticipation. Shayla kissed her way back up my other thigh and the feel of her hair brushing lightly against the underside of my cock was starting to drive me crazy. I felt her hand grip me gently at the base of my shaft and again I waited expectantly for the sudden heat of her mouth. I felt her hand give my rod a soft squeeze, but still she kept me waiting, barely able to breathe. Then Shayla sat up, tossed her hair back out of her eyes and looked at me seriously. "I hope you weren't expecting me to, uh, you know, put it in my mouth" she said. "Because I don't do that." Now I'm a guy who likes to think he has a pretty good poker face, but I know I must have looked pretty crushed when Shayla said that. A moment later, Shayla burst out laughing. "Gotcha!" she laughed as she got off the sofa and knelt down between my legs. She took hold of my shaft again, still laughing. "The look on your face was priceless," she said as she opened her mouth and pulled my cock down on to her tongue. Looking into my eyes, Shayla closed her lips around the head of my shaft and massaged the underside of me with her tongue. If I had been put off in the slightest by Shayla's joke, which I really wasn't, I would have quickly forgiven her. She was quite an incredible woman, with intelligence, confidence, a terrific sense of humor and she was gorgeous too. To be in her mouth, even this little bit, was a thrill for me. And it only got better. Shayla began to tenderly slide her lips down my shaft, sending a shiver of warmth through my lower body. Her eyes closed as she bobbed slowly up and down on my straining cock. She wasn't sucking me all that deeply, taking in a little less than half my length, but it was very slow and sensual, allowing me to savor every touch of her lips and tongue. Shayla had pulled my cock toward her and was rocking forward and backward as she sucked me. This gave me a good view of her face and let me see my shaft sliding in and out of her sweet mouth. Her motion also pressed her ample breasts against the insides of my thighs, which was a nice added bonus. As Shayla tenderly sucked me, my eyes took in her lovely body. I followed her gracefully arched back down to where her hips swelled generously into her firm ass. Coming back up, I watched the sides of her breasts grind against my legs. She was a gorgeous woman. And the way she gave such wonderfully sensual head was turning me inside out. She continued to rock slowly back and forth, her lips gliding up and down my cock. Every so often Shayla would pause to lick or kiss me. She looked up into my eyes on each of these occasions and it seemed like she was smiling. Or at least, she would have been if her lips weren't otherwise occupied. Her beautiful eyes boring into mine as she lavished my cock with her kisses was enough to send shudders of pleasure through me. Eventually, Shayla shifted herself forward so she could bob up and down on me. She didn't speed up her pace much though. She continued to suck me deliberately and sensually. But it felt better because my cock was now straight up, which was a more comfortable position for me. It also was probably an easier angle for Shayla too, as her body had stopped rocking and now only her neck bent to move her mouth up and down my shaft. Though Shayla didn't really pick up her pace, she didn't stop to lick and kiss me. So I had no chance to catch my breath as she patiently sucked my cock, drawing me step by step closer to orgasm. Her unhurried cocksucking was causing all the muscles in my legs, ass and abdomen to clench in anticipation. I have to say, it's a rare thing to find a woman who knows how to suck a cock slowly and patiently like Shayla did. Even the women who start out that way turn to power sucking to get me to cum. Sometimes that's necessary, depending on how turned on I am and how long it's been since the last time I came. But even when a woman could go slow and bring me to orgasm with the sensuality of her cocksucking, I don't usually get the pleasure. And when I say pleasure, I can't emphasize enough how incredibly wrenching an orgasm I can have when a woman is talented enough to finish me off that way. Shayla had the talent and experience to know how to do it right. And the patience. It took a long time for her to get me there with her tender sucking. It was at least twenty minutes of her head bobbing slowly in my lap before I felt my orgasm build to the point where I knew it was inevitible. Shayla was still sucking at her unhurried pace when my balls tightened and my cock swelled. My one hand gripped the arm of the sofa in a death grip, my other hand grabbed the back of my neck as I threw my head back and groaned. My ass lifted off the cushion as I erupted in Shayla's mouth. The thing about reaching orgasm slowly like that is that it's much more powerful than a regular one and seems to last forever. My body shook, the warmth flooding all through me as my cock heaved up first one huge wad of cum followed by three or four smaller ones. My muscles clenched and unclenched with each one and when they passed, I felt completely spent. Shayla never stopped sucking me, stretching out the moment of climax seemingly forever. She continued until I felt my erection start to fade. Then she slipped me from her mouth and planted kisses on the head of my cock and my balls. Then she wrapped her arms behind my back and laid her head down in my lap. "Mmmmm... that was soooo good," she said softly. "Mmmm hmmm..." I moaned in response. I wasn't sure if I would be able to speak at that point, I was so drained. After a few minutes, Shayla got to her feet, lit some candles and put on some soft music. Then she pulled off my shirt and coaxed me off the sofa to slow dance with her, our naked bodies pressing together. We swayed gently to the beat of the music until I recuperated. Once Shayla felt my cock starting to stir again, she reached down and stroked me slowly until I was fully erect again. Then she turned her back to me, bent over and reached back to guide me into her pussy. I entered her from behind and slowly pushed my cock deep into her a half dozen times. Then she pulled away, stood up and led me upstairs to her bedroom. We wound up fucking a couple times that night, and both were incredible. Shayla was every bit as sensual in her fucking as she had been in her cock sucking. When we finally fell asleep a few hours later, we were both completely satisfied. In the morning Shayla gave me another blow job, but although she started off slowly, she eventually wound up having to do some serious bobbing to get me off. And that was no surprise. I had cum three times the night before. She and I have hooked up a couple times since, and she gave me a blow job on one of those occasions. I should say, she sucked me off once. She gave me head both times, but I only came in her mouth the one time. But she once again had to pick up the pace of her sucking to get me off, so it wasn't a repeat of that first magnificent blow job. Okay, to the score card. I have to give Shayla a ten. Her patient, unhurried cocksucking really rocked my world. A woman who can drive me that wild with her mouth deserves nothing less. But she did a lot of other things right. First, she was a beautiful woman who loved to be naked. I found out that she wasn't just saying that. During most of the time I spent at her house, she walked around without a shred of clothing. While I may have a thing for nicely dressed women on their knees, there's nothing wrong with a beauty like Shayla sucking my cock in the nude either. Shayla gave me head on her knees. True, I prefer to be standing, but I don't think I could have cum from her slow sucking the way I did if I hadn't been sitting. The way she looked up from her knees as she kissed my cock also really did something for me. And of course, Shayla swallowed every drop of my cum, which is always a great thing in my book. She didn't stop sucking when I came, milking out everything I had before swallowing it down. I admit, I got a little post-orgasm thrill out of watching her walk around the room lighting candles afterward, looking at her bare stomach and thinking that her belly was full of my cum. I don't know why that fascinates me or turns me on, but it does. A short time after this, Shayla emailed me a picture of herself in a bikini and I couldn't help looking at her stomach and being reminded of how she had swallowed my load. Anyway, Shayla was terrific in bed all around. She was tender and sensual and without inhibition. She truly seemed to enjoy sucking my cock and making me cum the way she did. I always find that kind of willingness to please quite a turn on. There weren't any of the emotional strings with Shayla that I had worried about either. She seemed quite content to see me once in a while, have a nice dinner, some laughs and some great sex. She told me quite candidly that she saw other men and intended to keep things that way. Obviously, that suited me quite nicely, since that's pretty much how I live my life. And I'm not sexist about it. Women have every right to be players too, if they choose to be. More power to Shayla for living her life the way she wanted. We emailed each other fairly regularly and, as I said, hooked up a couple times since this entry. I did tell her on more than one occasion how incredible that first blow job had been and I finally came right out and asked her if she would ever suck me like that again. Her answer was that it wasn't up to her. She said most guys need more physical stimulation than that, unless they're already really turned on. The first time she gives a guy head, she said, was usually exciting enough that she could get him off that way. She did say that one possibility was that I could refrain from having sex of any kind for a week or two before seeing her again. Then I might be wound up enough to cum from such slow and sensual cocksucking. "The down side of that," Shayla emailed me, "at least from my point of view, is that a guy who hasn't cum in a week or two tends to shoot a pretty big load. I don't mind swallowing a little cum now and then, but I don't want the stuff squirting out my ears!" After a couple more emails back and forth, Shayla said she could be persuaded to do it anyway, huge load or not. We still haven't made any firm plans to get together again yet, but I get a little tingle every time I think about erupting in her mouth again the way I did that first time. And if Shayla is going to have to gulp down a big load of my cum to make it happen, so much the better. The Collector 19 Well, here we are. I made it to my nineteenth journal entry. Once again I want to say thank you to everyone who's taken the time to send feedback, post a comment or cast a vote. It really makes it fun to share my experiences when people respond the way you have. Thank you. That said, I also want to tell everyone that I'm going to make this my last entry, at least for a now. There are several reasons, but the main ones are, one, there are only so many ways to describe a woman's lips sliding up and down my cock and, two, lately, it's been taking away from the pleasure of getting my cock sucked. What I mean is, I can have some nice looking woman on her knees giving me the best cocksucking she knows how, and instead of just enjoying it, I'm thinking about whether or not what she's doing is special enough to be worth writing about. That's the thing. I've gotten some really good blow jobs that aren't in my journal simply because there isn't anything that makes them different. How many times can I write about standing there while a woman on her knees bobs on my cock? While no two women give head quite the same, it's tough to write about it in a way that they seem different. So a lot of those women who gave me good blow jobs aren't in here because they didn't blow me in a way or a place to set themselves apart from the pack. And if worrying about how to make it sound different is taking away from the actual pleasure of cumming in a woman's mouth, then what's the point? That's one of the most wonderful things I can think of (especially if she swallows) and if I'm not enjoying that to the fullest, something's wrong. So I'm going to call it quits. Once again, thanks to all of you for making this so much fun. AM * Since this is going to be the last entry, I'm going to do something a little different. I said above that there are a lot of good blow jobs I've gotten that didn't make it into the journal. I'm going to pick a few to write about. Most of them have at least something a little different to set them apart. And even if they didn't, these women all sucked a good cock and deserve to be mentioned at the very least. These entries are mostly women I met on the internet, which, as I've mentioned before, means I really don't know very much about them. There's not a lot to tell about how we met, what we said to each other and how things progressed to the point where they took my cock into their mouths. These women were all out to meet men and have a little fun of their own, so things happened pretty quickly with them. Unless I think of something noteworthy that happened leading up to the blow job, I'm just going to get right to it. I'm going to start with Sally, who probably deserves her own entry, if for no other reason than she was a woman who plain and simply loved to suck cock. There were also a few things about the way she gave head that made her unique. So if this weren't my final entry, she'd be a separate journal entry. I met Sally, like the others here, through an online dating site. Her profile said she was single and no kids, but after we exchanged a few emails, she admitted to being a married mother of three who was looking for some extramarital fun. That was fine with me, and I asked her what she had in mind. I certainly wasn't expecting her reply. "I love sucking cock. If you want a no strings attached blow job, let me know." "A blow job? Just like that?" I emailed back, a little skeptical, to say the least. Her answer was simple and direct. "Yes... as long as you're circumcised! ;)" I asked her a few more questions, and wound up agreeing to meet her, of course. I always enjoy asking women about sucking cock, especially the ones who say they love it like Sally. I'm always fascinated to hear what it is that a woman like about having a man's cock in her mouth. Any woman who's ever given me the chance to ask them about it will surely find my questions familiar. I asked Sally what in particular she liked about giving head, what positions she preferred and how she felt about the taste of cum. My experience has been that most women give fairly similar answers. But I always enjoy hearing a woman talk about her cocksucking, so I ask whenever I get the chance. Sally's answers weren't particularly different in substance, but she was great at getting her point across. "What do I love about it?" she wrote back. "A hard cock, throbbing in my mouth... mmmmm... god it makes me wet! Grind it against the back of my throat! Yes! And cum... oh, damn I can't wait to taste it! Fill my mouth and there's still not enough! When it slides down the back of my throat all I can think of is that I need more! Do you shoot big loads? God, I hope you do!" Sally had skipped over the question about what positions she liked to use when giving head (not that I was complaining about her answer, mind you!), so I asked it again. Again, I was not disappointed. "Make me get on my knees," Sally wrote back. "Make me beg on my knees to suck cock. Stand over me and wave it in my face. mmmmmm.... Then cram it down my throat! Ahhhhh...." Well, with answers like that, I made sure I got together with Sally as soon as possible. When she told me a specific date, two weeks away, I asked her why then. She explained that her husband occasionally traveled on business and so she liked to line up three or four or more guys over the day or two he was gone. Then she'd suck their cocks one by one. She said her husband usually traveled about once or twice a month and if she could get her mouth on at least a few cocks each time, it was enough to hold her over. Of course, I had to ask what she meant by 'hold her over.' "I am happily married," Sally explained. "I love my husband and my life with him. But I can't go without sucking cocks for very long. Fortunately, I can get my 'fix' when he isn't around." "Why don't you just suck your husband's cock more often?" I asked. "You obviously don't understand," Sally wrote back. "I need to suck COCKS! Not the same cock over and over again. COCKS! Lots of long, thick, hard throbbing cocks pumping their salty warm cum down my throat and into my stomach!" I don't know if Sally was exaggerating for my benefit or if she really had the craving to suck cock the way she claimed. Having seen her in action, I will say I'm inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. One thing Sally refused to do was to email a picture of herself, so I had no idea what I was in for. I have to confess, I was afraid she'd be really fat and/or really ugly. I certainly didn't expect her to be hot. My jaw dropped when I saw her pull up in front of my apartment building. I had been worried she'd be unsightly. That may be cruel, but let's be honest, appearances count. She was a forty-something mother of three, and it never occurred to me she might be hot. But Sally was hot! The thought of a woman as good looking as her being a ravenous cocksucker had me stiffening before she even came through the door. Sally was petite, maybe five foot two with a very slender build. Her dirty blonde hair fell in curls to just below her shoulders. Her pale blue eyes were surrounded by long lashes. They seemed a little dark and sunken. Her cheeks too were lean and had a slightly sunken look to them. Her chin was prominent and delicately shaped. All of her facial features had a crisp, chiseled look to them. She didn't smile much, but my eyes were drawn to her lips nonetheless. They were puffy and pouty and, if what Sally said was true, about to get very busy sucking cocks. I looked her up and down as she tossed her jacket aside. She was dressed in surprisingly nice clothes. A white silk top, a black leather skirt that fell just above her knee and the kind of stylish high heel shoes you don't usually see a woman just walking down the street in. As my eyes ran over her again, I couldn't help noticing how large her breasts were. Not that they were huge, but on a woman with as delicate a build as Sally, they looked deliciously big. We introduced ourselves and, trying not to drool on her, I offered Sally a drink. She shook her head, looked around, seeming a bit impatient. "Do you want to just get to it?" Sally asked. There was a kind of vacant look in her eyes. I thought it was strange that she didn't seem a little more animated. I mean, judging from her emails I was expecting, I don't know, more energy or enthusiasm. Here she was, a woman who had said she couldn't suck enough cock moments away from having my rod in her mouth and not showing any outward signs of being excited. Well, all I'll say is that I made the mistake of judging a book by its cover. Sally may have looked a little bored or impatient, but once my cock was out, she threw herself on it with the enthusiasm that she promised. When she said she just wanted to get to it, I shrugged. "Shouldn't you be on your knees?" I asked. A little wisp of a smile crossed her lips and she nodded slightly. "Do you have a tile floor?" she asked. "In the kitchen," I replied, a little mystified. "I like to kneel on a hard floor," Sally explained matter-of-factly. She didn't seem to care if I thought it was a bit unusual. She knew what she wanted and she wasn't bashful about it. I shrugged and led her into the kitchen. "Also," she said as she got down on her knees, "I'm not wearing any panties and I will be cumming. You don't want me to make a mess on your carpet." Another fleeting smile. Sally reached up and unzipped my pants. She pulled them down and directed me to step out of them. She tossed my pants and underwear across the room and took my cock in her hands. I was already pretty aroused and with a few squeezes and pumps of Sally's hand, I was achingly hard. Her full, pouty lips wasted no time engulfing me. Her lips went swiftly up and down my shaft, spreading the warmth of her saliva over my stiff member. Sally had excellent cocksucking form. Her knees were close together on the tile of the kitchen floor. Her feet pointed straight out behind her. She was too short to sit all the way back on her heels and still get a good angle on my cock, but that was okay. Her back and shoulders stayed marvelously still as she bobbed her head from the neck. She took in almost half of my shaft each time down as she sucked me gently. Sally must have known from experience how turned on men get by the idea of a woman with an insatiable appetite for cocksucking. If she had done any serious sucking on me at that point, I would have popped in her mouth in no time flat. For women out there who think giving head has to do with your physical technique, take note. Sally could have gotten me off with almost no effort because I was so wound up by the mental part of the blow job. And it's not like I hardly ever get my cock sucked either. Anyway, Sally knew if she wanted to savor the feel of a hard cock in her mouth, she had best not go at it too intensely. She ran her mouth slowly up and down my swollen shaft, pausing frequently to lick my head and balls. Her eyes were closed and she was sighing softly as her mouth and tongue explored and tasted me. She held my shaft firmly in one hand while her other hand gripped my thigh. I could feel her nails digging into my leg every time she took my shaft deep. I could feel my loins tightening, even under her gentle sucking. I started thinking about anything but sex to keep myself from losing control, but I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out very long. Sally certainly sensed it too and stopped sucking me for a moment. Her hand left my thigh and slid up under her short skirt. Sally knelt there, fingering herself with one hand, holding my straining erection with the other. I didn't know if this was supposed to give me time to catch my breath so I didn't cum too quickly. If it was, it wasn't working. I took several deep breaths and willed myself back under control, which I don't know that I really did manage to do. I watched as Sally threw her head back and moaned, her fingers busy under her skirt. Suddenly, she brought her head forward and took me back into her mouth. This time she came down as far as she could and I could feel my cock pressing against the back of her throat. She held herself there for a moment before backing off and bringing herself all the way down again. I love a woman who can take a cock to the back of her throat like that, but I really didn't need the added stimulation at that point. It didn't matter though. Sally started bobbing fast and deep, pounding me against her tonsils almost every time. I wish I could say that I had enough self-control that I could have let her suck me deep like that for a long time, but that wasn't the case. In less than five minutes I felt my orgasm building to the point where there was no holding it back. I watched her head full of curls bobbing on my cock as my muscles all clenched and I erupted with a hoarse cry. Sally continued sucking, although not as far down, as I emptied my balls into her mouth. I remembered her asking me if I shot big loads and, as the second and third gobs surged out of me, I had to wonder if she thought it was a lot. Sally sucked, stroked and squeezed me, greedily milking every drop from me and causing all kinds of shudders to run through my body. When she finally released me, she sat back on her heels, her hair falling in her face. I realized that her hand was still working furiously under her skirt. She lifted her head as she moaned in orgasm and I could see my cum still in her mouth. Sally's body shook as she brought herself to climax with her fingers. Then she looked up into my eyes and swallowed the cum in her mouth. "I hate when it's over," Sally said, not necessarily to me. "I love to be on my knees." Even as she said it, she got to her feet. I could smell her pussy, it was so strong. I offered her a drink, but she shook her head. "No way. I want it to last until I get to the next guy's house." "You really like the taste of cum?" I asked. "Not really. It's not the taste," Sally said almost absently as she retrieved her jacket. "It's the way cum makes my mouth tingle. That reminds me of having a cock in my mouth, cumming in my mouth and that makes me wet. Kind of a chain reaction." She shrugged, put on her coat and headed toward the door. "I won't even brush my teeth tonight," she said as she left. I give Sally at a nine point five. Now I know people are going to think I'm nuts. I mean, what could she have done better, right? Sally was a gorgeous woman who was dressed just the way I like in a skirt and high heels. She sucked my cock on her knees, pushing my cock against the back of her throat. She not only swallowed my load, she masturbated with it in her mouth then looked me in the eyes as she gulped it down. How could any woman do any better than that? Well, here's how I see it. I've gotten a few tens here and there. Cheri and Connie come to mind right away. Those women not only gave excellent head, they were giving it specifically to me. They got on their knees with the intention of satisfying me to the best of their ability. It was a totally different thing with Sally. She didn't care who I was as long as I had a hard, circumcised cock to stick in her mouth. I was more of a protein dispenser than a man she wanted to please. And she left my place to suck off another guy or two. I can't give Sally the same score as Cheri or Connie without disrespecting the special intimacy of the cocksucking those women gave me. I did email Sally again after that, hoping to get her to talk more about her love of cocksucking and ask her more questions. But she pretty much brushed me off. She did say that she might drop me a line the next time her husband was out of town. But the way she said it made me think that she would be looking for fresh meat first. If she couldn't find enough new guys to blow, she might include me in her next round of cocksucking. I sent her an equally bland reply and never heard from her again. In a way, Sally is an excellent, if extreme example of what's wrong with looking for new journal entries through internet dating. It's easy to find women who want to get together and have fun, but I never really get to know them nor do they get to know me. We can have a good time, enjoy each other's company and have some good and satisfying sex. But it's never the same as being with someone you already know well. That's particularly true of blow jobs. Not that I'm complaining about the women I've met on the internet. It's just that I usually don't feel like they're getting on their knees just for me. How could they, when they barely know me? Also, there's a lot to be said for fantasizing about getting sucked off by women I see every day and then having it actually happen. It's definitely more exciting to get a blow job from a woman I've already gotten to know in a non-sexual context. No offense to the women I've met on the internet, but I'd rather get head from a woman I see every day than one I just met. Imagine if Sally had been someone that I talked to every day and then one day found I out about her insatiable appetite for sucking cock. That would have been a thousand times hotter than meeting her over the internet. I would have had to score her an eleven or twelve! Anyway, let's move on to Kitty. She's another internet acquaintance that I hooked up with. I'm including her in this little blow job collage because she did something a little different, even though it wasn't what I thought it was going to be. After a couple of dates, Kitty invited me back to her condo. Actually, she invited me to spend the night with her, so I pretty much knew I was going to get laid. Naturally, I was also looking to add to my collection as well. Somewhere in one of our conversations the subject of blow jobs came up. I made some silly comment along the lines of I had given up on trying to get blow jobs because most women these days don't take the time to do it right. Kitty gave me a skeptical look and laughed, but didn't really say any more about it. Obviously, I had only said it to get her to talk about her own cocksucking skills, but she didn't take the bait. It wasn't until I got to her place the night she invited me to stay over that she brought it up. "You know," Kitty said after we had been making out on the sofa for a good half hour, "it's a shame you don't like to get blow jobs." She reached down and squeezed my erect cock through my pants. "Yeah," I breathed, "Too bad, huh? If only there were women out there who knew what they were doing." "Well, you know," she said, still rubbing my erection, "I've been thinking about that and I have to tell you, I've never had any complaints." "Really?" I asked, pretty sure where she was going, and certainly liking the direction. "Not that it's a lost art or something," Kitty said with a smirk. "You guys are pretty easy to figure out." "Let me see if I understand," I said, scratching my head as if I were really thinking it over. "You're telling me that you actually know how to do it right?" "Uh huh," she laughed. "It's not that hard!" She laughed again, "Well, if I do it right, it'll be nice and hard!" "Am I supposed to take your word for it?" I asked and we both laughed a little. Kitty stood up and gestured toward her bedroom. "Come on," she said. "I'll let you decided for yourself." Kitty's bedroom was dimly lit and she didn't turn on any additional lights as she led me in. Instead, she told me to get comfortable on the bed as she lit a bunch of candles around the room. I kicked off my shoes and laid down on the bed, watching her. When she was done, she crawled up to me from the bottom of the bed, running her hands along my leg as she did. She smiled but didn't talk as she undid my pants and pulled them off. I laid there with my hands behind my head, my semi-erect cock lying across my stomach, as Kitty ran her hands up the insides of my thighs. She cupped my balls, gently massaging them with her thumbs. Then she leaned forward and ran her tongue up the underside of my shaft, giving the head a quick suck before reaching across me to her nightstand. The Collector 19 She straightened back up, now on her knees between my legs, and I saw what she had reached for: a china tea cup. Kitty held it up to her lips, licking the rim. Her eyes locked on mine as she slowly ran her tongue along it. Then she leaned forward and slipped the tea cup over the head of my cock. She rolled it around on my hardened shaft, watching my face for my reaction the whole time. I think I kept my face pretty neutral, but I'm not one hundred percent positive I managed. As I watched Kitty rub her tea cup on the head of my cock and then put it to her lips, it was driving me crazy to think that she was going drink my cum out of it. That was clearly what she was implying. She even went so far as to dab the rim in the dribble of pre-cum that had formed and then lick it. I had never had a woman drink my cum out of a cup before and for some reason I was very excited at the prospect of watching Kitty pour my load into her mouth. I'm sure she knew the effect she was having on me. She had a slight smile on her lips as she slid off the bed, leaving the cup between my legs. Kitty stood at the foot of the bed and, keeping her eyes on mine the whole time, she slipped out of her top and pants. She was wearing lacy red and black lingerie underneath. Clearly, Kitty knew how to build up a man's anticipation. I took a deep breath and settled back further into the pillows to wait and see if her actual cocksucking was as good as her lead-up to it. Kitty crawled back up the bed to me, licking and caressing my thighs along the way. She picked up the cup, rubbed it gently on my balls and up my stiff shaft before placing it on my stomach. She gave me one last look before bending down and taking me into her mouth. For all the teasing and build-up, Kitty didn't hesitate with her bobbing once I was in her mouth. No sooner had her lips closed around my throbbing member than she began sliding them up and down me with a vengeance. She was actually a bit too aggressive, applying too much suction and catching me frequently with her teeth. It was just as well though. I had gotten pretty wound up about the idea of her drinking my load from the tea cup. Her over-eager sucking quickly brought me back from the brink. I guess Kitty was used to her pre-sucking routine getting men worked up enough that they came quickly, because after five minutes of bobbing, she slowed down and I got the impression that she thought something was wrong. Naturally, after my comment about women not giving head properly, she wasn't going to admit that things weren't going as she anticipated. I'll give her credit. She recovered quickly, going back to what had gotten me excited in the first place. Holding my cock with one hand and the cup in the other, Kitty resumed sucking me, pausing often to dab the edge of the cup in my pre-cum, or rub it lightly against my balls. Once again I found myself getting really turned on by the thought of Kitty drinking my sperm from her cup. After a few minutes of teasing me with slow sucking and rubbing her cup on my sack, Kitty started sucking me again. This time though she didn't go at it hard and fast. It was a little more sensual and I enjoyed it much more than earlier. A few minutes later she had me at the edge of cumming. As I felt my shaft swell and my muscles tighten, I watched Kitty, waiting to see how she was going to catch my load in the cup. But her head just kept bobbing steadily. She did speed up just a little as I reached the point where there was no holding back. My back arched and the muscles of my stomach and ass tightened as I came in Kitty's mouth. She sucked for a few moments after I had cum, but not much. Then she sat back on her heels and held the cup to her lips. As I watched, she let the cum drain from her mouth into it. It was actually pretty cool watching the ropey strands leading from the cup back up to her tongue. Kitty used her lips to sever the strands and then held the cup to her lips. She licked the rim of it a couple times and I watched fascinated, almost beside myself with anticipation. Then she put the cup, still full, down on the nightstand and gave my cock a quick lick and kiss. I have never felt more cheated by a woman giving me head than I did as Kitty put that cup down. Yeah, I know. I've had a lot of women spit out my cum or not let me cum in their mouths in the first place. But this was different. This was like false advertising. In all honesty, Kitty's blow job skills weren't all that good and if it wasn't for the anticipation of her pouring that cup full of cum down her throat, she wouldn't have had such an easy time getting me off. I asked her about it afterwards. Kitty said it was supposed to be erotic, getting a man thinking she was going to drink his cum. And since she didn't swallow, she figured drooling it into a cup was better than spitting it out in a tissue or the sink. I asked her if she worried about disappointing men who were expecting her to drink it. She told me that I could drink it if I wanted to, but she had no such intentions. I laughed it off, but at the same time I was thinking that Kitty missed the point. All that erotic build-up goes to waste because she had me anticipating something that she never had any intention of doing. What if she gave me head again? Would she expect me to get worked up like that again? Kitty obviously knew she was playing a game--a game that only works the first time. And like I said, she wasn't so good at giving head that it didn't matter. I'll score her a seven, which may seem high, considering how let down I was afterward. But I didn't know that I was going to be disappointed, so it wound up being a pretty exciting blow job up to that point. Yeah, the lack of physical cocksucking skills hurt too, especially after I pretty much challenged Kitty to give me good head. But there's no denying that I was excited by the experience, even if she didn't follow through. And really, why should it matter if a woman swallows or not? I've already cum, right? Yeah, I know it matters, but I have to tell myself it doesn't when she spits. Okay, this next one isn't so much a journal entry as something I want to tell about. Kendall didn't really give me blow jobs in the traditional sense, but she had her mouth on my cock almost every time I came with her. I figure that's at least worth mentioning, right? I met Kendall through a friend I worked with at my first job out of college. After I left that job, he and I still hung out together fairly regularly. At one time he and his roommate lived in the same apartment building as three women our age. One of them was seeing someone regularly, but the other two often came out to happy hours with us or invited us over to their place for drinks. One of those two was Kendall. The girls were a lot of fun. I hooked up with both of them during the year and a half my buddy lived in their building. I'm pretty sure he and his roommate were with them both too. They were outgoing, free-spirited types and they were out having every bit as much fun as my friend and I were. My buddy has since moved in with a serious girlfriend and I hardly see him anymore. She apparently thinks I'm a bad influence on him. Go figure! I still visit the girls' apartment from time to time though. The one girl with the serious boyfriend has gotten married and moved out. Kendall still lives in the apartment with the third girl. The third girl has a serious boyfriend of her own, so I don't see her around much anymore. But I still see Kendall sometimes. Kendall and I have occasionally hooked up over the last couple years. Usually, we'd get in touch almost out of the blue, go out for a couple drinks and then go back to one of our apartments, normally hers, and fuck like rabbits. She's not a normal journal entry because she never gave me a lot of head, nor was it particularly noteworthy head when she did. Kendall was far more interested in fucking. She only liked to do it doggie style, which is one of the things I really like about her. I know a plenty of women who say that's their favorite, but not a lot that do it that way exclusively. That would hardly be reason enough to sneak her into my journal though. What really set Kendall apart was that after I fucked her doggie style until she came (at least once, more often twice) she would turn around and suck me off. Sometimes she would spray my cum in her face or on her tits, but usually she took my load in her mouth and swallowed it all down. I've fucked her dozens of times and she always finished me that way. There is something kinky and erotic about a woman tasting herself on my cock anyway. Throw in the fact that she was swallowing my load after I fucked her and, well... that's a damn fine woman you're talking about! I've said that I don't go for repeat business all that much, particularly since I've started my collection. But I have to say, I don't ever seem to get tired of watching Kendall turn around after I've given her a good pounding, suck her own juices off my cock and then gulp it down as I pour my cum into her mouth. The first time she did it, I had no warning at all. She just pulled away from me while I was in the middle of fucking her. Before I could say anything, she turned around to face me, still on her hands and knees, and took my hard, sticky cock into her mouth. Yeah, I was pretty surprised, but in a very good way. She rocked back and forth on her hands and knees, sliding my cock in and out of her mouth. A minute later I was cumming in her mouth and she was swallowing it all down. I've always wondered why Kendall did that. Unfortunately, despite how uninhibited she was about doing it, she wasn't good at talking about it. She wasn't able or willing to express herself on her sexual proclivities, which was a disappointment to me. I still don't know if she was one of those rare women who actually like the taste of cum, or if it excited her to suck a cock that had just come out of her dripping pussy. I always thought there was always a look of urgency on her face as she turned around, like whatever it was she wanted might get away if she didn't hurry. That's what makes me think that she wanted to taste herself. But as long as she was taking my load down her throat with it, what else do I really need to know? So like I said, this isn't a normal journal entry, and I don't really have any way of giving Kendall a score for her blow job skills. She did give me head a couple of times, but neither was particularly memorable. Her sucking was very straightforward. She'd just bob on my cock until I came. I doubt I'd give her better than a six for her cocksucking. But I've found very few women who will let me put my cock in their mouths after I've fucked them. Fewer still who would let me cum that way. And, needless to say, Kendall is the only one I've ever found who made a regular thing of it. So while she may not have been a great blow job in the usual sense, I think she deserves to be mentioned here. I mean, if you consider how much of my cum Kendall has swallowed when so many of the women who have sucked my cock straight up have spit it out, well... There's no doubt in my mind she deserves to me in here. Okay, last one. Gina was a difficult one for me. She was, of course, another internet acquaintance. She was funny and cute, nice curvy body and a fairly pretty face. Her nose was a little big and her eyes a little close together, which kept her from being truly beautiful, but didn't prevent her from being attractive. She had straight, dark brown hair that fell half way down her back. And she had delightfully large, perky breasts. In most ways Gina seemed very similar to the majority of women I met on the internet. She was out to meet some men, have some fun and, depending on the guy, maybe have a lot of fun. She liked to laugh and had a good sense of humor, which made our first date go really well. By the second date we were making out and by the third, she was at my apartment. Gina was wearing tight black slacks and a low cut top that showed plenty of cleavage. I had made no secret of how I liked breasts, particularly nice ones like hers, and she had no doubt chosen her outfit to accentuate them. We had gone out to dinner first and, of course, had a couple glasses of wine with our meal. When we got back to my place, I opened another bottle of wine, but we barely touched it. Before we had taken more than a sip or two, we were making out on the sofa. It got hot and heavy pretty quickly. Gina was a very good kisser and our tongues were all over each others lips and mouths. Our hands were also busy with each others bodies. After ten minutes of this, my rock hard cock was straining against my pants. Gina's hand rubbed me through the fabric, leaving me aching for release. Gina didn't hesitate to grant me that release either. After we had gotten each other quite wound up, she slipped to the floor, kneeling between my legs and undid my pants. A moment later, my pants were across the room and my throbbing cock was held firmly in Gina's hand. She stroked me slowly, taking time to appreciate my cock in all its erect glory. "Mmmmm..." she moaned softly. "Very nice. Long and thick, just the way I like it." She pumped me ever so slowly, her long hair spilling between my thighs. When she started sucking me a minute later, it wasn't anything special. Her mouth was nice and warm on my cock, but she didn't go very far down or do anything particularly exciting. Just some good, if not deep, bobbing. I was pretty wound up from our making out, so even her average blow job technique was feeling very good and I could feel myself throbbing in Gina's mouth. I was sitting there watching her head bob in my lap and wishing she would take me deeper into her mouth when she reached up and grabbed my hand and put it on the back of her head. At first I thought Gina wanted me to run my fingers through her hair, so I did. But after a few moments of that, she grabbed my hand again and pushed it against the back of her head. When she let go of me, I tentatively pushed her head down again. I was rewarded with a soft moan. So I pushed a little harder, forcing her lips further down my shaft than they had been so far. "Mmmmmm...." Gina hummed without taking her lips from my cock. I pushed a few more times, but not any harder. Gina was apparently not satisfied with my efforts. Once again she put her hand on mine and pushed it against the back of her head. This is where I started to feel a little uncertain. If Gina wanted me to force her head down on my cock, I certainly didn't mind. It wasn't really my style, but pushing a woman's head down like that is pretty erotic, so why not enjoy it? Especially if she likes it as well. My problem was, I didn't know how far to take it. Apparently, Gina wanted me to be more forceful. But I wasn't sure how much more so I should be and I'm not one to handle a woman roughly, so it just didn't come naturally. But when Gina pushed my hand against the back of her head yet again, I decided to see just how far she wanted me to go. I cupped my hand around the back of her head and pushed her firmly and steadily down. Her lips were more than three quarters of the way down my shaft when I felt the head of my cock press against the back of her throat. I quickly let her back up, afraid that I might gag her. But she never missed a beat, so a couple bobs later I pushed her down again until I felt the back of her throat again. This time I held her there for a second before letting her up. Gina moaned nasally as she came back up, indicating to me that she was enjoying it. So naturally I did it again. I gave her a couple of bobs to catch her breath, then I started pushing her down again. When I felt my cock press against the back of her throat, I didn't stop. I continued pushing down on her. Her mouth didn't go much further down. My hard cock jammed against her tonsils prevented that. But it felt kind of cool to be able to increase how much she was pressed against me. I let her up after just a couple seconds, once again afraid that I might have overdone it. But Gina moaned softly as before, leaving me to wonder just how she was used to being treated. I would have thought that she might have found it at least a little unpleasant, being forced to swallow my cock like that. Quite the opposite seemed to be true though. At this point, I felt a bit lost. I'm not in the habit of being rough with women, or even into getting them to do things a certain way. In fact, one of the biggest treats for me is sitting back and letting a woman do her thing without me interfering. Still, here I was with this woman who clearly wanted me to be forceful. On the one hand, I didn't feel all that comfortable with it. On the other, I wasn't likely to find a lot more women who actually wanted to have their mouths forced down onto my cock. I'd be a fool to let the opportunity get away. So I grabbed Gina's head a little more firmly and pulled her down as far as I dared and just held her there. With my cock shoved into her throat, I didn't know if she could breathe. Still I held her, loving how good it felt to press the head of my cock against the back of her mouth. When I let her up, she inhaled deeply. I admit, even though I still say this was not my style, it was really turning me on to forcefully feed Gina my cock this way. I did it again another half dozen times. The final time I held her until she tried to back away. As she tried to lift her head, I pushed her back down, driving my cock into her mouth as hard as I could and holding her another ten or fifteen seconds before finally releasing her. She gasped for breath, letting my cock slip from her mouth. She sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Mmmmm," she moaned emphatically, smiling at me. "God, that's good." She unsnapped her pants before leaning forward to take me back into her mouth. The index finger and thumb of one hand encircled the base of my cock while her other hand slipped into her own pants. I let her bob for a minute before pulling her head down again. When I did, I didn't hold her down, just pushing enough to touch the back of her mouth and then letting go. I could see her ass twitching, no doubt from the touch of her own fingers combined with my pushing on the back of her head. I pushed her down a few more times without holding her, each time letting her up quickly. I suspected that she was going to get herself off with her fingers and I was thinking it would be timed to match me gagging her with my cock. But I wasn't in any hurry. I was starting to get the hang of this game and, though I feel a little guilty admitting it, I was liking it. Yeah, it was a little rougher than I would be with a woman, but the fact that she wanted me to do it made it okay in my mind. What guy doesn't at least secretly want to gag a woman with his cock? Is there a bigger ego trip than that? I was preventing this woman from breathing by shoving my cock down her throat. I confess, it was a little intoxicating. Even so, I doubt I could have done it if she didn't make it absolutely clear that it was just as big a thrill for her as for me. After pushing Gina's head down on my cock a dozen times or so, I started holding her down again. At first I only held her there for a few seconds before letting her up. But I started increasing the duration each time. I could see the results in the way Gina's hips and ass shook. I figured she must be getting pretty close to cumming, so the next time down I held her there until she tried to come up. I even let her come up just a bit before pushing her back down harder and further than before. And I held her there. She tried again to lift her head, but I denied her. I kept my cock buried in the back of her throat as she tried again to back away. I was worried that I was going too far, but I didn't see any sign that she had cum yet, so I didn't let her up yet. The Collector 19 She tried again to rise and this time I forced her back down harder than I had at any time before. I also arched myself off the sofa, pushing my cock as far into her mouth as I humanly could. I was rewarded almost immediately. Gina's hips bucked savagely and I knew she was cumming. I let her go and she pulled away quickly, drawing a deep breath and letting out a soft cry of ecstasy. Her head fell forward in my lap, spilling her silky brown hair over my cock and thighs. Gina knelt there panting for a minute or two as her body continued to spasm with the after effects of her orgasm. Finally, she sat back on her heels and smiled up at me blissfully. "Oh," Gina sighed. "So fucking good. Mmmmmmm." She pulled her hand from her pants and licked the tip of her finger. "Let's go fuck," she said and started to stand up. I put a hand on her shoulder and shook my head. "Why not finish what you started first?" I asked. Gina shook her head. "Uh uh. I can't take any more of that," she said, gesturing toward my hard cock. "You almost killed me with that thing!" She was smiling as she said it, so I knew I hadn't done anything too extreme for her. But at the same time, I was worried that she wasn't going to suck me off. Now I had every intention of fucking her. Probably of eating her pussy too, while I was waiting for my second wind. But I so wanted to cum in her mouth. Especially after ramming my cock into her throat the way I had. I wasn't going to cum that way. I don't know if it would have choked her or not and I didn't want to spoil the rest of the evening by doing something like that that might put her off. But I did want to feel her warm, wet lips around my throbbing shaft as I pumped my load into her mouth. "No more rough stuff," I promised her. "Just don't leave me hanging like this." Gina looked up at me and slowly stroked my cock. It was covered with her saliva, glistening in her grip. "But that's the part I like," Gina answered with a slightly embarrassed wiggle of her shoulders. "I just don't know if I can take any more right now. You started slow, but you really came on strong at the end there." "I like to finish strong," I replied. "Don't you?" I asked, nodding toward my hard cock still in her hand. "Depends on what you mean by finishing strong," Gina said. "I just want it inside me sooo bad right now, while I'm so turned on. You don't want me to cool down now, do you?" "No," I conceded. "It's just that you were driving me so crazy with your mouth. I want you to finish me." I looked down at her and smiled hopefully. "I don't know," Gina said. "I really could use this nice hard cock of yours inside me right now." She stroked me gently and gave my cock an affectionate kiss. "Maybe we could compromise," I suggested. "I'll give it to you right now, but when you've had enough, you still have to finish me with your mouth." Gina responded with widened eyes and a surprised little laugh. "Maybe I'll just do it now," Gina answered, wrinkling her nose. "But you better promise to get me good and hot like this again and then hump my brains out!" I quickly agreed and Gina leaned forward and wrapped her lips around my cock once again. I didn't push her head down at all. I waited to see if she would encourage me to do it again, but she didn't, so I just let her suck me. Gina wasn't a particularly passionate cocksucker and despite the fact that she didn't gag when I crammed my member into her mouth, she didn't bob very far down on her own. Even so, it didn't take her much longer to get me off. I had just watched her give herself an orgasm while my cock was so far into her mouth she couldn't breathe. I was still pretty wound up over that and the more I thought about it, the more incredible it seemed. Gina bobbed steadily on me for less than ten more minutes before I erupted. I thought about pulling her head down into my lap as I came, but decided not to. I wasn't sure if she'd be turned on or put off by it and didn't want to take the chance. After all, I was still planning on fucking her. I think if Gina had put my hand on the back of her head when I got close, I would have done it, but without her encouragement, I couldn't do it. As I felt everything tighten in me and my cock strain for release, Gina quickened her pace a little bit. That took me over the top right away and a moment later my sperm was jetting into Gina's waiting mouth. Gina was, unfortunately, one of those women who stop sucking almost as soon as a man cums. She stopped bobbing as that first gob of cum shot into her mouth and then squeezed me gently to milk out a couple smaller spurts. Then, letting my still-oozing cock slip from her mouth, she excused herself and went into the bathroom. When Gina was done, I had to use the bathroom myself to get cleaned up because she hadn't sucked me off very thoroughly and had left me a bit of a sticky mess. I teased her that there was more running down my leg than in her mouth. "Hey, be thankful," Gina shot back. "That's not the most pleasant stuff in the world, you know." She smiled as she said it, but she left no doubt that she didn't enjoy the taste of cum. I asked her if that wasn't the real reason that she wanted to fuck before she finished blowing me. "Well, that's probably part of it," Gina admitted. "I love the sucking part, don't get me wrong," she continued quickly. "And it's not that I don't like getting a guy off that way." She shrugged. "It just isn't the most enjoyable stuff to have in your mouth is all." I asked her about the way she seemed to really like having me force her head down on my cock. "Yeah," Gina said, seeming slightly embarrassed. "I don't know why, but it makes me sooo wet." She gave me a nervous little laugh. "So why don't you go all the way down on a cock on your own?" I asked her. She looked at me like she didn't understand the question, so I tried again. "When you were sucking on your own, you only went half way down. Why didn't you go all the way down without me pushing you?" "It's not the same," Gina answered. "When you're, you know, pushing, well... you're making me do that. It's when you're making me do it that I get so turned on." That was as much of an answer as I was able to get out of her. It was clearly a very erotic thrill for her to have a man's cock forced deep into her mouth. She didn't know why she liked it that way. She just knew that she did. That seems to be the way of sexual things... we know we like them a certain way, but why a particular thing really gets us juiced up isn't easy to explain. In many cases I wonder if we even know the answer anyway. I guess that's the most frustrating part of this journal for me. I've met women who love to suck cock, which I find fascinating because they're giving far more pleasure than they're getting. Most of the time, anyway. And when I ask them what they like about it, there is no clear answer. Either they don't know what it is about it that they like or they don't know how to express it or they simply aren't comfortable talking about it. Well, scoring Gina presents the usual problem of she did some things that I really liked, but in other areas she came up short. I'm going to give her an eight, which is probably generous because, left on her own, she wasn't that impressive a cocksucker. Also, she stopped sucking as soon as I came, leaving the rest of my cum to ooze out all over. And she didn't swallow, which was a disappointment as well. The only reason I'm giving her the score I did is because it was exciting for me to pull her head down and make her gag on my cock. The fact that she was equally turned on by that still blows my mind, pardon the expression. Yeah, she had to play with herself to reach orgasm, but she came with my cock as deep in her throat as I could shove it. Any woman who gets turned on enough to cum when a man's cock is cutting off her breathing deserves at least an eight, even if the rest of her cocksucking was only mediocre. I'll admit there was a bit of an ego thing too. I mean, gagging a woman with your cock can be quite a rush. I almost wish I was more of an asshole, so I could have really jammed it down her throat hard and kept it there until her eyes were bugging out of her head and she was gasping for breath. Part of me wonders if Gina wouldn't have actually gotten off on that. Unfortunately, I wasn't bold enough to find out and I haven't gotten together with her again either. I might get another chance, but I still don't know if I could be that rough. We'll see. Well, that's pretty much going to wrap it up for my journal entries. I was going to shoot for an even twenty, but I decided to save the big two-oh in case something spectacular comes along. Maybe if I got Connie and her sister to double team me, or something like that. I don't think that'll ever happen, but if it did, it would certainly be worth adding to my journal. I'm not sure what else might encourage me to write number twenty. I do know that even a great one-on-one cocksucking doesn't necessarily make for great reading. So unless something truly exceptional happens, this will be it. * Thanks again to all of you who have voted, posted comments and sent feedback. It's been a lot of fun sharing my journal with you. Guys, happy hunting and may you get your cocks sucked well and often. Ladies, may you never want for a thick, hard cock in your mouth and may you rock his world every time you get on your knees. And may all of you enjoy yourselves giving, getting and all points in between. AM The Collector PART 1 -- A Purring Cat The two officers looked at the suspect through the one-way mirror. She was young. Early twenties, maybe less. A petite figure, cloaked in a heavy felt blanket, crouched on the cold metal chair. She was wearing a black lace mask over her eyes, underneath short flaming red hair. With her head bowed, she stared at her wiggling toes beneath the blanket. Captain Parker sighed. He was the kind of guy who needed five coffees to get through a daytime shift. The kind of guy who needed extra large ashtrays. Possibly two of them. And he was going through a damn night shift, he was out of cigarettes, the intern with his coffee was taking forever and he had a criminally insane girl locked in his interrogation room. "Why the mask?" He asked, massaging his forehead to keep a growing headache at bay. The nearby officer straightened up and cleared his voice. His name was Oliver Grayson, and he was a well-shaven young recruit with dark hair and green eyes. Looking at him, Parker always thought: "A square jaw like that might get you pussy, but in the force it just lands you in the ICU." It didn't help that he was showing far more green than his eyes ever could. Oliver said: "I'm afraid she won't tell, sir." "I mean, why haven't you taken it off?" "Anderson tried, sir. He, uh, nearly got his eye clawed out, sir." "So handcuff her." "We... we did. But the doctor, he said the mask has to stay on." "It doesn't look like it's holding her head together, so the mask has to go." "Uh, the doc said she needs the mask. Says she's probably traumatized, you know. The mask is supposed to be keeping her sane, or something like that." "Sane? Sane as in, scratching away at a police officer? As in, roaming around town at night stark naked?" Officer Grayson didn't reply. He just swallowed and nervously broke eye contact. Thankfully, a hectic intern entered the room and got the captain's full attention. Parker quickly took his coffee mug and clipboard from the boy and sent him away, ignoring each and every one of his attempts at a conversation. Captain Parker entered the interrogation room. The masked girl didn't seem to acknowledge his presence in the least. He sat at the transparent table, right in front of her, put down his clipboard and sipped his steaming coffee. He started reading out loud: "Trespassing. Indecent exposure. Assaulting a police officer. This is pretty serious stuff. You know that, miss?" The masked girl looked up at the captain. Underneath the black lace, her blue eyes sparkled. Her delicate features looked sweet, but inexplicably unnerving. She smiled. He couldn't help but notice, she was wearing lip gloss. Her lips parted slightly, and she said nothing. Captain Parker quickly looked away, facing back to his clipboard. He put down his coffee and read on: "It says here your body shows no signs of pysical harm, besides small cuts and bruises you got from walking around town barefoot. Did you do it on purpose, miss? Why would you do that?" The girl's smile widened just enough to reveal a sliver of sweet, cherry tongue behind white teeth. She tilted her head to one side, displaying a supple, luscious neck made of alabaster skin. The captain's eyes raced from her lips to her neck, then hit the brown felt blanket. He remembered that was all she had to cover herself with. She got one foot off the chair and out of the blanket, then placed it, tip-toed, on the linoleoum floor. By the time the captain noticed, the felt was once again covering her modesty. So she wasn't barefoot. She was wearing thigh-high stockings, black and translucent, with a lace hem. The stocking was damaged around the sole and knee, with bruised skin underneath. Parker figured it didn't make much difference walking around barefoot or like that. Then he thought about the knee damage, and pictured her kneeling down on the ground. Hiding? Naked? The masked girl giggled. Startled, the captain realized he'd been staring. He cleared his voice, scowled, and moved on with his interrogation: "Look, we're trying to help you here. If something, anything happened to you, we need you to cooperate with us to catch who did it. If nothing happened you still need to cooperate, because things are looking grim. You get that?" She arched her back and rolled her head backwards. The blanket opened slightly, showing a perfect line of skin from her neck, to her collarbone, to her sternum, framed in just a hint of youthful, firm curves. The captain shut his eyes and massaged his temples. His headache was getting worse. His wedding band was itching. He needed a cigarette. He sighed. Eyes still shut, he paused until he got his cool back, then asked: "Can you even speak? You're not a damn mute, are you?" Again, she giggled. "No", she said. Her voice was low but feminine. Warm and comforting like a hot bubble bath. "I can speak just fine." She spoke slowly. Every word a warm secret, lovingly crafted by her tongue and lips. He thought she sounded like a purring cat. "Good, now we're getting somewhere." He opened his eyes and asked "Come on, tell me your name." Coyly, she bit her lip and shuffled under the blanket. Soon, her cuffed hands were out in the open. She seemed to be making an effort to keep the blanket in place with the rest of her body, but it still slid off of her right shoulder, revealing a flowery tattoo sleeve, green with some red here and there. It was hard to tell, but it seemed to go all the way from her elbow to her back. Holding the blanket with her armpit and elbows, she showed her cuffed hands to the captain and smiled. "Take these off, and I'll tell you anything you want to hear." Parker glanced at her fingernails. Long, red, sharp and polished, except for the index and middle fingers on the right hand. Those fingernails were broken; presumably by Anderson's face. She seemed to notice, because she added: "I promise I won't scratch you." and wiggled in place ever so slightly. "Free me, captain." This movement loosened her body's grip on the blanket, and it slid further off her shoulder, revealing more skin, more tattoo, more curves, and the side of her... "I'm sure your wife won't mind..." Something burned captain Paker's arm. He cursed and recoiled and cursed again. His coffee. He'd been lunging forward, and knocked over his mug. Even the girl got sprinkled by the scalding drink. She squirmed and flinched, then giggled as she fixed the blanket. "That's it." Parker said, standing up "That's fucking it." He tried to keep his cool but it slipped through his fingers. His wedding band was burning, and it wasn't the coffee. His head wasn't the only part of him throbbing. He got around the table, all the way to the masked girl. Looming over her, he stared into her eyes and barked: "You're spending the night in jail. We'll see if you feel like talking, tomorrow." She seemed smaller, up close. Somewhat powerless. But not scared. Parker pointed at the one-way mirror and commanded: "Grayson, lock her up. Watch over her cell, keep an eye on her all night, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. And get her some god damn clothes already." Officer Grayson entered the room to do as he was told. Gently pushing the girl's shoulder, he gestured towards the exit. The masked girl faced Parker one last time and whispered: "Your loss." PART 2 - Relieved The district's jail cells had the exact layout you'd expect: three brick walls and an iron fence. Two beds sat on opposing walls in each one, with a barred window high up on the third wall, and weathered sanitation fixtures in the corner. Grayson accompanied the masked girl to an empty cell, but couldn't avoid passing in front of the locked up drunkards who began hollering and whistling as soon as they saw the blanket-clad beauty. He told them to shut up, to no avail; she giggled and thanked him for the effort. As he was unlocking her cell, she said: "you're a nice guy, mr. Grayson." He didn't know how to reply, so he kept quiet, opened the door and slid it open. She walked into the room, holding her blanket and a bundle of bright yellow clothes, her nyloned feet barely making a sound. She turned to face him as he locked her in, and asked: "What's your name, mr. Grayson?" "Oliver. I'm, uh, Oliver Grayson." "Thank you for the nice clothes, Oliver." "Uh, you're welcome, miss. But, well, I don't think they'll fit. That jumpsuit may be too big I'm afraid..." She smiled: "How can you tell, with this blanket in the way? Undressed me with your eyes, have you, Oliver?" His cheeks flushed red, and he mumbled some form of apology, but she laughed over it. "I'll try it on" she purred "And let you know how it fits." He nodded, then stood there, quietly, until she shook her blanket and raised her eyebrows. Glowing red, Grayson realized his faux pas and turned around, letting her have this small measure of privacy. Oliver heard the noise of the jumpsuit being laid on the bed, then the unmistakable swish of the blanket on the ground. His heart sped up, warming up his chest; he licked his lips and fought the urge to turn around and take a look. His mind raced back to a few minutes earlier, when he was looking at the masked girl as she talked -- no, as she flirted -- with the captain. Parker managed to keep his cool in ways Oliver never could have. He thanked the one-way mirror for hiding his obvious erection, and was glad nobody else was there with him. Pictures of the girl's gorgeous body flashed back into his mind. The toes touching the floor, her luscious neck stretching back, the blanket rolling down just enough to... Another sound. Springs. Was she sitting on the bed? Was she done dressing up already? Part of Oliver was relieved, but he also felt a sense of loss. He willed his erection to go away, but it wouldn't obey. Maybe seeing her in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit would ease it up a little bit. He tried to say something, but the words chocked in a dry throat. He collected himself and finally managed to ask: "Are you done?" He received no reply other than the sound of springs, like weight shifting on a bed, and a short humming. Was that a yes? He wondered. The cell block was quiet, save for the idle chatter of the drunkards in the other room. They kept cat-calling the masked girl and making lewd comments even now that she was out of sight. For some reason, this irked him the wrong way. Slamming his baton against the nearest iron bars, he commanded them to shut up. Surprisingly, they did. They'd probably passed out. With everything quiet, Oliver asked again "So, are you done?" this time whispering, to avoid drawing the drunkards' attention. Expecting a similarly quiet answer, he listened intently. All he heard was an unmistakably female panting. "Uh, miss? What are you..." Another shift in weight. Now, she was also making a wet slapping sound, in synch with the huffed breathing. "Miss, uh, you probably shouldn't... I mean I'll have to..." She moaned, loud, moving around some more on the bed; the wet slapping intensified, and so did her ever-shorter, whispered breaths. Little groans and whimpers kept escaping her lips despite her will. He couldn't take it anymore. He turned around. One hand still working deep between her legs, the other clutching at her breast, she lay down on the bed, on her back, head facing the iron bars. Her alabaster skin flushed red all over, she shook and squirmed in the throes of orgasm. Her mouth agape, tongue out; her hand squeezing hard her firm, generous breast; thighs pushing against each other; feet clawing at the bedsheets. When the moment passed, she finally relaxed. Stretching her arms and legs, she let out a satisfied moan and smiled at Oliver. The man's eyes raced over her gorgeous body. He took her in a little at a time, enjoying every inch of that heavenly sight. He'd always had a thing for feet, so that's what first drew his eye: nyloned toes, still wiggling in the afterglow. Tracing his gaze, she curled up her legs and he found himself lost among her thighs. The sweet curves drew his focus down below, his hands aching all the while with desire to touch that perfect skin. With her legs curled up, he couldn't see much past her shaved mound. Just a glimpse of wetness, and a sparkle. A sparkle? Was she pierced? He saw a butterfly, small and blue, tattooed below and to the left of her pierced navel. He noticed her breathing, deep and slow and relaxed, pushing her ribcage through the skin. Between alluring hipbones, the flat stomach couldn't hide the outline of the firm abs underneath. Oliver's erection was already pushing painfully against his zipper; the masked girl's proud, voluptous breasts didn't help him any. Both nipples were pink, rock hard, and pierced. She had something tattooed on the outer rim of the right breast, but it was hard to read cursive that far. Her arms were outstretched towards him. Crimson claws clutching at him, calling him. Those deep blue eyes gleaming with mischief and perversion. Her wide smile mouthing, "come here". That was it. He didn't care anymore. She'd drawn him all the way into her world now. There was nothing else in his mind but her. This masked girl showing herself with such impunity. Throwing out her precious body for all to see. She was dark and fleeting like a dream. He was afraid he'd wake up and lose her forever. No. Tonight, she would be his, and his alone. Shaking with lust, he fumbled with the keys until he got the right one in the lock. She sat up on the bed and leaned towards him, eagerly smiling and biting her lip. But then, something happened. A door slammed at the end of the corridor. A gravely voice called out for Grayson. Startled, the officer dropped his keys, failed at picking them up, and left them on the ground. A big policeman, taller and broader than Oliver, stepped into the masked girl's field of view. The bandaged eye made his scowl twice as scary, and his unkempt beard all the more disgusting. The man, who both recognized as officer Anderson, faced Oliver and told him: "You're relieved." "What?" he said "But I've only just..." Anderson barked: "Relieved, I said." And stabbed Oliver's chest with a fat finger. The younger officer recoiled. He took two steps back, rubbing his ribs. The masked girl cowered, sliding all the way back to the far edge of the bed. Anderson looked at her and grinned. "Will you look at that! Put on a cute show for little Ollie here, have we?" he turned to face his colleague "Now I see why you don't want to leave!" The big man laughed. "Well, too bad! I'm here to stay." He picked up the keys "And I'm going to get what I deserve." He easily unlocked the door and slid it open, then stepped into the girl's cell. Oliver burst out: "What... What are you doing, man?" Anderson laughed: "Don't worry, newbie. I turned off the cameras." Oliver tried to say something else, but the drunkards had woken up, and their taunts and screams drowned him out. "Get her!" they'd say, "Make her scream!" Anderson heard them, and replied "I fully plan to.". The big man ripped off his shirt, revealing a scarily muscled build and a very hairy chest. The masked girl stood up. Back to the wall, she tried hard to keep away from the man but couldn't. As soon as he was within reach, she lashed out with her nails; unfortunately, Anderson grabbed her forearm before they made contact. Twisting her arm, he forced her to turn around. She cried in pain, and he laughed. The drunkards hollered. He dragged her all the way to the toilet, then kicked out her knee and crouched behind her when she fell. "You almost blinded me, you bitch." Swiftly, he hancuffed her hands behind her back. One of his hands held her face over the toilet by the hair, while the other freed his throbbing, massive penis. "I'm going to make you pay. I'll fuck you in the ass while you drown. If you want to live, you'd better squeeze me real tight and make me come soon." Then he did it. He pushed her head into the toilet. The masked girl struggled hard with all her might, but was hopeless against the huge man. The drunkards heard the commotion and cheered on, unaware of the horror. "Don't worry" Anderson said "You'll get your turn... If she lives." Then got closer, preparing to enter her exposed bottom... ...But he stopped. There was a loud zapping noise, and Anderson blubbered incoherently before falling over. The masked girl quickly sat up and looked back to see the once massive man crumpled on the ground, convulsing. Behind him stood Oliver, mad as hell and clutching a taser. PART 3 -- Raving Audience He gestured for her to get out of the cell. As soon as she did, he locked up the sliding door, trapping Anderson inside. The big man moaned pitifully and tried to move but failed. The masked girl, her face still wet with water and trails of makeup, smiled at her hero. She turned around, facing away: a gesture he didn't understand at first. When she leaned forward, lifting her firm buttocks toward him, with her cuffed hands on top, he realized she wanted to be set free. He obliged. Now uncuffed, the masked girl faced him once again and picked up something off the floor: it was Anderson's ripped shirt. "Oh, that's right." Oliver said "I think your jumpsuit and blanket are still...". She didn't wear it, though. She dried her face off with it, then threw it on top of the unconscious molester. She got closer. He smelled her sweat, her sex, luring him further into madness. Her breasts brushed against his shirt. She cupped his hand and whispered: "Aren't you supposed to lock me back in?" He didn't answer right away: all his efforts went towards keeping his desire at bay. Her soft hands caressed sparks into his palm. Whenever he tried to speak, he ended up just kissing air. The only free cell was adjacent to the one with the drunkards, and not through a brick wall, but just a shared iron bar fence. Oliver frowned and mumbled: "I'll just, you know. Move some guys around. Get you a, uh, more private cell, you know..." The masked girl, still holding his hand, glided over to the empty lockup. The drunkards saw her naked and erupted in a fit of cat-calls and assorted screams; Oliver tried to cover her body by standing in the way of her audience, but it didn't work. The masked girl curled up to him. Before he knew it he was already hugging her shoulder, holding close that warm, soft, luscious body. Her breasts pushed into his chest, her hip bone rubbing his throbbing erection, she put one hand on the cold iron bars of the empty cell and whispered: "This one's fine." Oliver flushed. His mind raced. Only minutes before, he wanted to take this girl, make her his; Anderson's violence had turned him off and made him feel like he was taking advantage of a poor, misguided young woman. Parker's example also dragged him away: the captain felt she wanted to play him for a fool, and he was probably right. This masked girl was no good: she was just trying to seduce cops in order to ecape. Regretfully, Oliver made his decision. He firmy pushed the warm girl away, then unlocked the door and slid it open. She made no objections when he guided her in, but a disappointed and somewhat stupefied expression bloomed in her features. The drunkards crowded the shared iron bars and stuck their arms as far as they would go, trying to grab what some of them called "That hot piece of ass". Oliver locked the door. The girl pushed into the bars close to him, perfect breast squeezing through the bars, and begged: "Oliver, please, don't go." But he was determined to be a professional. That was the right thing to do: leaving right then and there. He turned his back and got to the exit. The Collector That's when the screams got crazy. He turned around and couldn't believe his eyes: the girl had thrown herself at the drunkards. With her back to the iron bars, still facing Oliver, she was ravaged by grasping hands that forcefully tied her in place. Her arms, drawn back through the bars, forced her chest out and into rough, lustful grips. Evil fingers probed the most intimate spot between her legs, repeatedly violating it in a vulgar display of glistening wetness. Before long, they also found her piercings. They played with them, twisting and pulling; the girl cried in pain at this, especially when the sparkling ring on her clitoris was manhandled. Behind her back, in the darkness of the cell, the first few whiskey dicks flopped their way out of dirty pants. The masked girl, in her throes of pain, pleasure and humiliation, called out to him: "Oliver...!" He was there before he even realized it. With carefully aimed blows of his baton, he fought off every single hand. He grabbed her wrist and strongly pulled her away, taking refuge at the far wall with the prized girl safe in his embrace. "Why the hell.." he said "...Did you do that?!" But she wasn't listening. Her face all red, she looked at his body with languid eyes. She put a hand to his chest and found hard muscles panting under the tight shirt. A finger found its way between buttons and caressed the smooth, hard abs underneath. The guy shaved. She smiled. He grabbed her wrist: "There's no need to..." But she kissed him, shushing his words away, along with any last remnant of willpower. Her sultry hand made short work of the buttons; not soon enough, he was standing shirtless. The uniform hid a handsome swimmer's body, with well defined muscles of a healthy size. She guided his fingers to her breast, and he began to lovingly caress the sensitive, firm skin. She cherished the sensation of a gentle touch pleasing her after so much violence. She kissed him some more, and unbuckled his belt. Pulling at the hem of his boxers, she revealed a long hard penis, its circumsized tip wet with excitement. She rubbed it with her thumb, and he shook with pleasure. His breathing changed, and she could tell through the kiss. He grabbed her waist and pushed away, breaking contact of their lips. He tried to say something, looking over at their hollering neighbours. She glanced at them, then smiled at him. "Don't worry", she said "They won't remember a thing, come tomorrow." Not waiting for a reply, she lost herself once again in their kiss and his embrace. Whether convinced or simply resigned, Oliver let go and loosened up. His glans was very sensitive. She enjoyed teasing him, by slowly drawing slick circles all around it. Once in a while, she would pick up the pace and rub him faster, turning his breaths into short gasps and his caress to a full-on groping of her tit. But then she'd stop, to give his shaft a few lustful strokes. The drunks cheered on, eager to see juicier action: "Come on, man, fuck her already!" When all the teasing became too much to bear, Oliver broke free of her grasp with a frustrated moan, grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. She put her arms around his neck and held tight. His hands raced down her back and he began to lift her up, but she didn't let him. He gave her a confused look, and she bit her lower lip. She pushed down on his strong shoulders to make him sit on the bed. In this new position, the masked girl made short work of all the clothing he still wore, namely the pants all crumpled up at his ankes, and his socks and shoes. She giggled, because her stockings and mask now made her less naked than her arresting officer. Their audience didn't like this. They didn't care about the guy, they wanted to see her scream! "Show us how you come, slut!" The masked girl rolled her eyes and flashed a sultry smile. Still standing, she parted her legs and went down on Oliver without kneeling. The men, now facing her fully exposed flower, were so surprised they actually went quiet for a second or two. Not pleased with the perceived lack of attention, the masked girl reached around herself with her left hand to slightly part her wet labia. That got them back to the raving. She took his throbbing member in her warm mouth as her free hand stroked the skin. He rolled his head back, eyes shut. The slick tongue twisted masterfully around his glans, sending waves of pleasure through his hard legs. Oliver passed his fingers through her red hair, then opened his eyes to look in the masked girl's bright blue gaze. He found it, and cherished it, bright jewels glimmering with lust as she lovingly sucked him off. But behind her, the spectacle was dire: not just hands were now pushing through the bars; some men stuck their semi-hard members in between the iron, and a few were furiously masturbating. Oliver closed his eyes once again, and smiled. She got him all the way in, and it took away his breath. The sucking and stroking got the better of him. Grabbing her, Oliver cried: "I'm coming!" And she stopped. She got him out of her mouth, still throbbing and ready to explode. He instinctively reached down to finish himself off, but she grabbed his wrists and kissed him, thus locking in the worst case of blue balls Oliver had ever had. Then, she giggled at his confused scowl and shook her head to say "no". Her smooth fingers probed a stocking, sliding through the hem. She pulled a condom wrapper out of it, and had it open in no time. Oliver was speechless, quivering with anticipation, as she kneeled down in front of him and rolled it down his length. She kissed him once again, then flicked his penis and moved away. Facing the drunks' cell, who got all the more ravenous with the girl so close, she leaned forward, presenting herself to Oliver, and gripped the iron bars that separated her from the savage brutes. The crazed men spared no time and were onto her right away: some were trying to break her grip so that she might fall towards them, others pulled at her arms; others still tried in vain to touch her with their dicks. His mind clouded with lust, Oliver grabbed the girl's waist and finally pushed into her warm pussy as their raving audience cheered on. It felt just like his first time: thrilling in the heat, his heart raced ever faster. He dug into her; slow and calm at first, but wild and furious soon after. She was tight, and very much so; she was also wet enough that it didn't hurt any of them at all. It was just pleasure, pure and simple. Even the masked girl, who looked so jaded, squirmed with ecstasy at every push, the hard cock taking her fully. Between Oliver's slamming, the men's pulling, and the waves of pleasure turning her limbs to jello, the masked girl's grip failed. She caught herself eventually, clutching the bars further down, but by then she'd gotten quite a bit closer to the grasping men. And they got to her. Rough hands were once again manhandling her breasts, with ripples of pain whenever they found the piercings; probing fingers forced their way in her mouth through her moans. Hard cocks rubbed against her knuckles as the men tried to pry her away from the bars and onto their genitals. And she loved every second of it. Finally, it happened. She screamed as the latest push sent her over the edge. Her muscles tightened up as the pleasure pulsed through her body. Her breasts tingling, her lap warm, her vision blurred as her head went spinning. She felt herself falling over towards the desperate men, but Oliver caught her. He pulled her away by her belly and by her breasts, then he grabbed her behind the knees and lifted her up, impaling her already orgasming body on his rock hard cock. She cried out loud as he got deeper than ever before, new waves of warmth pulling away at her shaking body. She came once again, suspended and spread eagled in front of her fans, reaching back to grab Oliver's head and kiss him. The men went mad He expoded, too. He grunted as he came, and came, and came; a never-ending stream of cum spurting out of his dick. They both felt its warmth as it filled the condom and enjoyed the sensation for as long as it would last. Drained, Oliver let go of the girl and collapsed on the bed. He expected her to get down next to him, but she didn't. She crouched down at his crotch and pulled the condom away from his fading erection, tying it up so that it wouldn't spill out. He reached out for her, but she wasn't there. Half aware of some movement, he looked up to see her standing just outside their jail cell. He jumped up as fast as he could, but didn't make it in time. She'd locked him in as the drunks laughed and mocked. "Please don't do this" he said. "Bye, Oliver." She just smiled, blew him a kiss and walked away, the afterglow taking a toll on her posture. He never saw her again. Minutes later, as Oliver was still naked, trying to disbelieve what just happened, the door at the end of the corridor burst open. "What the hell was all that racket?!" Captain Parker had just walked in. PART 4 -- Memories It was almost dawn when the masked girl climbed back into her bedroom through the window. After placing the full condom on the nightstand, she took off her stockings and threw them straight into the trash. Her mask fell in the laundry pile. Her wig went back on the stand. She ran a hand through her buzz cut, jet black hair and sighed. She stretched her whole body. The night had been quite intense. The orgasms, some of her best. So good, in fact, that they almost got her caught again on the way home, because of the toll they'd taken on her slender physique. In the bathroom, she turned on the faucet and let the bathtub fill up as she walked into the closet. In there, she unlocked a small refrigerator with her key. As she opened it, the chilled air caressed her breasts and brought up her nipples in a field of goosebumps. Inside the cold box were a few cardboard slides, each with a full condom taped to it. In between the one that read "Firefighter" and the one that said "Schoolteacher", she put down her latest trophy: "Policeman". Her treasures safe in place, she walked into a well deserved, long awaited, warm bath. END The Collector Denise Miller sighed as she looked up at the clock in her classroom. Parent-Teacher Conference day always seemed like one of the longest days of the year...thank God it was almost over! She only had one more parent to see... Denise glanced down at her notes. He was the father of one of her newest students, and she didn't really know anything about him except his name, Chris Jones. His son Brian was somewhat of an enigma; he was quiet, very smart, but underachieving. He always seemed to be distracted during her seventh-period AP World History class, like his mind was somewhere else all the time. She glanced again at his folder, again other than the fact that the family had moved quite a bit, there was little biographical info to go on. Denise stood up and smoothed down her black knee-length skirt as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She calmly walked over to the door and opened it just as he got there... The man was short, slight of build, short hair, glasses, extremely well-dressed, and Denise couldn't immediately ascertain his age as she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Denise Miller...Brian's History teacher. Please come in!" "Chris Jones..." was the reply, "Nice to make your acquaintance Miss Miller." He smiled a warm, confident smile as he walked into the classroom. He took a seat in one of the two comfortable, padded chairs behind her desk and waited for her to sit down. He quickly took in her appearance as she walked by to sit down across from him. Thin gold button-up blouse, black skirt, heels, pretty shoulder-length brown hair, put up in a clip, brown eyes, and a nice figure-not skinny by any means, but for a teacher in her mid-30s it was obvious Denise took care of herself and prided herself on her appearance. He smiled again as she sat down, crossing her legs and picking up her notes. "Thank you for coming in, Mr. Jones-" "Please, call me Chris!" He replied. "May I call you Denise?" "Sure..." Denise answered as she glanced over her notes. "I'm glad you came in... I have been wanting to talk to you about Brian. He's a good student, he's obviously very smart...but most of the time in my class he seems like he's in another world. I was hoping maybe speaking to you would give me some insight as to how I can best handle him." "I see..." replied Chris, his eyes never leaving her as he spoke. "May I ask how long you've been teaching, Denise?" The question surprised her a bit. "This is my 12th year of teaching here." "I see..." he responded again, his expression like someone doing differential calculus in their head. "So that makes you...about 36?" She nodded. "Do you think you're a good teacher, Denise?" Again she was a bit surprised by the question. "Well, I-" He cut her off quickly. "I didn't think so." A bit shocked, Denise tried to respond, "What do you m-" Once again he stopped her. "If you really thought you were, you wouldn't have hesitated to answer." He smiled again. "I bet you've always wanted to be a teacher, haven't you, Denise?" "Well yes...I have...how did you know?" Denise wasn't feeling like she had control of this conference, a feeling she wasn't used to. She was used to being in control of EVERYTHING in her life. She thought, it's time to get back in charge of things. "So tell me, Chris, what exactly is it that you do? I see you and Brian have moved around a lot..." "I'm a professional collector." Chris answered, folding his hands in his lap and continuing to look at Denise, measuring her response. He could see in her eyes that he had piqued her curiosity a bit. "A collector? What is it you collect?" "Professionals!" Chris chuckled, and Denise giggled just a bit as well at his apparent joke. "No, seriously... I collect rare and unique artifacts that I have found in my travels around the world. I have quite a collection now, if I may say so myself..." He smiled and again waited for her reaction. "Oh wow... I had no idea...!" Denise exclaimed. "Anything of historical significance?" "Of course you had no idea..." Chris smiled. "Well, I think they have historical significance...but then I'm not a so-called expert on history... I've never really had them appraised as such... maybe you could suggest someone?" He gave a slight wink. "Well, me of course!" Denise exclaimed. "I'm a History teacher after all!" "Why yes you are... well I'd be honored, of course, if you would come by sometime and take a look... let me know what you think..." "I'd love to! I'm always interested in anything historical...!" Denise gushed. Chris smiled a bit wider, delighted at her almost childlike curiosity. "Well just let me know when you have the time, and I'd love to show you my collection..." "Well..." Denise quickly thought, "you're my last conference of the day... I guess I'm available now...if that's ok...?" She really wanted to see this collection... maybe there would be something she could work into her class, maybe even a field trip? she thought to herself. "Good then, you're done here." Chris answered, it was much more of a statement than a question, although Denise didn't catch that. "It's not a far drive from here, and I do have a new acquisition I need to display, maybe you could help me?" "Sure!" Denise exclaimed as she grabbed her purse from the desk. "Where are you parked?" He stood up and held the door open for her as she walked through it. "Just outside...the drive there will give us a chance to finish the conference, don't you think?" Chris smiled wryly. "Sure, that's a good idea!" Denise followed Chris to his car and let him open the door for her as she climbed into the seat. As they pulled out of the parking lot, she turned to him and asked, "Okay, I'm curious. Why did you ask me if I had always wanted to be a teacher?" "Just trying to figure out why you are... you seem better suited for something else... maybe something that doesn't require as much intelligence..." Chris calmly stated. "What do you mean??" Denise quickly replied, a bit taken aback at his statement. "Well, it's obvious to me that the reason Brian isn't able to focus in your class is primarily because you aren't able to challenge him enough. He's a smart young man, and you...well..." "You're questioning my intelligence?" Denise asked. "You don't think-" "Oh I think plenty, my dear." Chris reached over and stroked her hair as he drove down the highway. Denise was once again feeling like she didn't have control of the conversation as she turned her head to look at him. "Don't you worry your pretty head about it right now, we have a collection for you to look at!" And Chris turned the car up a long hilly drive through a grove of trees. Denise turned her attention back to the front, curious to see what kind of house the Joneses lived in... The driveway wound its way up the hill and through the trees into a clearing, and Denise gasped...it looked less like a house and more like a medieval castle! "Oh my God, I had no idea this place was here... it looks like a castle...!" Chris laughed at her comment. "Yes, most people have no idea this is here... it was built almost a century ago and I found it by chance when we were looking for a place to live around here, I needed a place with enough room to display my entire collection, so I guess I lucked out, huh?" "I would say so!" Denise exclaimed. "It does seem like a lot of house for just the two of you, though..." "Well as I mentioned, I needed a lot of space to adequately display my collection... our living needs are really not that great." Chris parked the car at the side and then walked around to open the door for Denise as she slowly climbed out, taking in the entire scene. "I take it that it meets your approval then?" he asked, not that it really mattered to him, but he wanted Denise to continue to let down her guard, which she was doing easily enough as it was. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed as Chris led her around the side of the house, past well maintained gardens and around to the front of the house, the sight of which was truly magnificent. To Denise it almost seemed like something out of a fairy tale. As they approached the front door, Chris stopped and turned to her. "Before we go in... you haven't asked me yet what my collection is. For a long time, I have been intrigued by the vocational arts...that is, what people do for a living. It is my feeling that without those who perform necessary and often forgotten-about jobs, our society would crumble and disappear. So I started collecting rare, unusual, and interesting items from the different vocational fields. I believe, in my humble opinion, that I possess the largest and most impressive collection of this sort in the world." Denise's eyes widened at this statement. "So when I said I was a 'profession-al collector, you see I was not far off!" He chuckled as he put the key in the door and unlocked it, opening it and letting the amazed teacher walk in first. The foyer was breathtaking, with high ceilings, beautiful chandeliers, and adornments worthy of a British monarch, at least that's what Denise thought as she took it all in. The foyer itself seemed large enough to be a ballroom! Straight ahead, about twenty-five feet away, was a large closed door; as she glanced to her left and to her right there were two more doors in each direction, also shut. Chris smiled as the wonder easily showed in her face. "Quite breathtaking, I think. I've worked hard to bring a sense of history to this place, which I hope you'll appreciate. Each of the doors you see leads into a separate room where I have items from my collection displayed. As you will soon realize, each room has a unique theme. Let's start with the kitchen, shall we?" And he strode straight ahead, key in hand as she followed. "I keep all these doors locked as well... one can never be too careful when dealing with antiquities. And I have worked far too hard building my collection to allow anything to happen to it." He unlocked the door and opened it, reaching in to turn on the light, and then letting Denise walk in first. Her amazement continued as she walked into the 'kitchen'. It indeed was a kitchen, and a large one at that, but it was clearly a homage to the culinary arts. All around the sides of the approximately 20' by 20' room were antique and rare appliances, pots, pans, utensils, each hung on its own, unique place, under glass, with a small plaque detailing what each item was, when it was made, and a description of its historical significance. Denise's curiosity was racing as she checked out some of the items on the wall where she had walked in...a cake knife from Louis XIV's palace, two pots from ancient Rome...it was truly amazing, and yet the most amazing item revealed itself to her as she turned towards the center of the room. She gasped. There was a pedestal in the center of the room, and in a kneeling position on top of it was a statue, a statue of a woman, dressed in a chef's outfit, complete with a chef's hat, an apron, and a somewhat revealing smock that displayed her 'assets' quite well, Denise thought for a moment. In one hand the statue held a hand mixer, in the other a measuring cup. There was a glass case over the statue to protect it, much like the rest of the artifacts in the room, and a plaque with an Italian-sounding name that Denise didn't recognize but assumed was the name of this female chef, then underneath 'Created 10/21/69' and a list of her culinary accomplishments. Denise read it with interest, then looked over the statue again; the woman appeared to be maybe in her mid-thirties, and not skinny by any means, but with nice, natural curves, and quite pretty as well. The detail that the sculptor had created out of what appeared to be some kind of white granite was simply amazing to behold. As she read over the plaque again, Denise realized there was no mention of the artist. She turned to Chris, who was standing next to her watching her reaction, and as she opened her mouth it was as if he knew what she was about to ask. "I'm sure you are wondering about the artist... he has amazing skills, does he not?" Denise nodded yes as he continued. "I first ran into him some time ago... he has interests similar to my own. This is his work, he did a number of pieces in my collection." "If the rest of your collection is as amazing as this..." Denise's voice trailed off as she continued to take in the amazing collection of items in front of her. "I thought you'd be impressed. Soon my collection will be complete, and I plan to open the house up as a museum for all to see... beautiful things should be displayed for all to see, shouldn't they, Denise?" He smiled as he noticed her gaze returning to the beautiful statue in the center of the kitchen. "Yes...definitely..." She mouthed as she continued to gaze wide-eyed at the statue as Chris walked over to an antique refrigerator and opened the door, pulling out a bottle of champagne, and pouring a couple of glasses. "You look thirsty my dear. As you can see, not only is this kitchen a collection but it is functional as well..." He handed her the glass and she took it without thinking, taking a few sips. He took a sip of his and then sat the glass down, picking up the bottle and opening the door to walk out. "Ready to see more?" he asked. "Oh yes...!" the intrigued teacher answered as she followed him out of the room, pausing to let him re-lock the door before following him towards another one of the locked doors. "What's next?" "You seem quite excited, dear Denise, this makes me very happy. I love a healthy curiosity in a woman, it only adds to her beauty." Chris smiled and Denise blushed as she watched him open another door. "Here we are, the Doctor's Office." He watched her walk in and then followed behind, enjoying her amazed reaction again. The room was about the same size as the kitchen, and resembled quite closely a large patient examination room. Along the walls were a large variety of medical instruments, most made before the twentieth century, a few quite a bit older than that. They, however, were not the first thing that Denise noticed. Rather, her attention was immediately drawn to the center of the room. On a pedestal, very similar to the one in the kitchen, was displayed another kneeling statue, this one of a female doctor. As with the chef statue, this one was also dressed in a rather skimpy doctor's smock, a thermometer in one hand, a tongue depressor in the other, and a stethoscope around her neck, with the end nestled perfectly in the statue's ample cleavage. Chris smiled as he watched Denise's eyes taking in every inch of the statue as she kneeled down in front of it to read the plaque below. It read "Dr. Anita Adams, Created 1/31/1971." And once again it had a list of accomplishments of its subject. Denise also couldn't help but notice that the statue had an interesting expression, almost a combination of wonderment and surprise. "My artist has a real gift for capturing his subjects." Chris stated as he watched Denise get up and walk around the room, sipping her drink and glancing at the other items, but her eyes bouncing back towards the statue, amazed again at how lifelike it was done. "I heard him say once that he likes to display them as he feels they should naturally be..." "I wonder..." Denise started to say as she walked back by the statue. "Yes? What is it you wonder about, Denise? Please, do tell me." Chris looked upon her rather impishly as he surreptitiously refilled her glass and waited for her response. "I wonder....what she was thinking just then..." Denise answered as she gazed again upon the statue's face. "Oh, I imagine she was truly amazed at how the artist captured her so easily... after all, she was able to watch his process... can you imagine it? I'm sure you can... I mean, what woman wouldn't want to see her beauty captured forever in such an amazing way?" Denise nodded as she absorbed his words and took a few sips of her drink. "Uh huh..." she agreed as he led her out of the room and to the next one. "This is the Police Station," Chris said as he opened the door. And as they walked in, Denise wasn't quite as surprised by what she saw...it looked like a typical old-timey police station, with antiquities around the sides, and in the center, a pretty policewoman statue, displayed much like the first two, on her knees, looking slightly upwards, in a sexy police-girl getup, a pair of cuffs in one hand, a gun in the other, and a small billy club dangling from the collar around her neck. As Denise sipped and looked, she realized that all three statues had had something around their neck, she just hadn't paid any attention to it before. She didn't give it any more thought than that, though, nor did she think that all three were in pretty much the exact same pose, and looked to be about the same age, and had natural curves and beauty, not that fake 'model' beauty that society seems to want everyone to have. Or that they were all female, for that matter. "He certainly has...a distinctive style..." she sighed, feeling a bit relaxed from the champagne as she sat the glass down in the foyer. "Yes he certainly does. It seems only natural to be displayed in such a way, doesn't it, Denise?" Chris asked as he started to lead her to another room. She nodded in agreement. There were several more similarly 'themed' rooms that he showed to her. A courtroom, with a sexy woman judge in the center; a building site, with a woman dressed as a construction worker on a hot day; a laboratory with a barely-dressed lady scientist adorning the middle of the room. All of the statues were similar to the ones Denise had seen in the previous rooms. Chris could tell that all the walking, as well as the champagne, had made Denise quite a bit tired. "We're almost done..." he said, just one more room to show you, Denise. I think you'll find this one especially interesting and definitely worth the wait!" And he opened the door as she walked into... 'The Classroom.' The lights came on a bit slowly, first illuminating the walls of the room, as Denise noticed all of the ancient tools of education, quite a number she had seen before in books, but never close up like this! She was positively glowing as the lights finally came on in the rest of the room, and she turned her attention to the center of the room, to the pedestal. It was empty. Denise turned quickly to Chris in surprise. "No statue for this one?" she asked. "Oh yes. Do you remember back at the school, I mentioned I had a new acquisition I needed to display?" She nodded yes. "That's what I needed your help with. I seriously doubt I could properly display it without your help." Denise beamed happily. "Then I'm so glad I was able to come! Of course I'll help you put it on display!" The two or three glasses of champagne had given the thirty-something schoolteacher a slight buzz, enough that she wasn't really putting a lot of thought into what she was saying. "Well then. Right this way, please." Chris led Denise back out of the room and into another one, one that was quite simply decorated and furnished like an antique living room. He gestured to Denise to have a seat on a low-back couch in the center. "I know you're tired, Denise, have a seat for a minute and relax, I'll be right back." Denise yawned as she made herself comfortable on the couch. Her mind was swimming at this point, overwhelmed by the amazing collection she had seen so far. And what was this latest acquisition? Her curiosity was at its peak. As she thought about this, she felt a pair of hands settle down onto her shoulders, rubbing gently. "I apologize for the wait...I know you're tired...it must be so stressful for you, having to try and teach all those smart young people...maybe you'd feel better if you just RELAX a bit..." he leaned down to whisper the last three words directly into her ear, watching in delight as she shuddered. The Collector "You always appreciate a student who does their homework, don't you Denise?" She gasped softly and nodded as he continued to whisper directly into her ear. "I always do my homework on all my acquisitions..." he whispered... "just like I did my homework on... YOU..." he added as he gave a soft blow into her ear, watching excitedly as her breathing sped up. Denise's eyes began to flutter as Chris continued to whisper, blow, and lick at her ear. His hands moved down to slowly unbutton her blouse. "This really turnsssss you on, doesn't it...Denisssse...." the sibilant syllables driving her crazy as she helplessly let out a whimper. "Ohh God..." Denise moaned as she shifted about on the couch, feeling dizzy and weak as he pulled her shirt free from her skirt and opened it completely, exposing her tummy to his caressing fingers. "What's....h-h-happening..." "Shhh..." he whispered into her other ear, eliciting another gasp from the dazed teacher. "Jussst relaxxxx... don't think... not something you're very good at anyhow, issss it, you sssstupid little teacher..." Denise tried her best to think of something to say, but the tingling sensations between her legs were getting too strong. All she could do was moan as he gently laid her down on the couch and slid her skirt up around her waist, grinning as the teacher's bare pussy lips had swelled and pushed against the fabric of her panties leaving a very wet impression there. Chris grinned from ear to ear as his fingertips grazed he lower lips through her panties, causing her to gasp and pant even harder. "So easy... just let go for me Denise...as if you could stop me now anyway..." He watched as her eyes glazed over and her panting got faster. His fingers continued to tease her labia, keeping Denise in a dazed and pleasurable state as he continued to taunt her. "I just love capturing women like you..." his other hand caressing along her bare legs, then her stomach, her breasts through her bra, and then up her neck and along her cheek. "You make it so easy, once I gain control of this..." and he squeezed her pussy through the fabric, causing Denise to whimper uncontrollably, her eyes closing in ecstasy. "Such a dumb, silly girl to think you could ever teach my son anything...I mean look how easily you got caught?" He squeezed again and chuckled at her gasp. "I mean what kind of girl falls for a line like 'I'd like to show you my collection' and then gets in his car and lets him take her God knows where, and lets him get her all tipsy besides? A brainless bimbo like you, Denise..." and he squeezed once more, putting her on the throes of orgasm, and then released completely, standing up over her. Denise moaned, and then as he released her, her eyes slid back open... "Huh...ohh...please...don't stop...ohh...." "Oh, are you begging for me to touch you again? Well I don't think lying there on the couch is a proper pose for begging, now is it, my little mutton-brained slave?" Denise gasped at these last words as they burned into her sex-starved mind. She felt her pussy leading her, pulling her off the couch and onto her knees in front of him. She looked up at him as he got to one knee in front of her and smiled. "Please...please..." she moaned. "Ohh please..." "Are you ready to accept your destiny, Denise? To be mine forever?" "Yess...oh yes...anything...please..." Chris smiled victoriously as he reached under her skirt, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and pressing something small inside her, against her clitoris...something that began to pulse with a constant rhythm. "Ohhhh...ohhhh..." Denise's expression changed to an expression of wonder and shock as the pulses started, pushing her right back to the edge and holding her there as Chris slowly removed all of her clothing, except her heels. As he did so, another, unseen pair of hands reached around the captured teacher's neck and clicked a collar around it. At that moment everything in Denise's world went dark... She had no idea how long it had been when the lights finally came on. Things were a bit blurry at first, but after a minute she could see something, it was slightly askew but it looked like a kneeling, submissive woman, with shoulder length brown hair, wearing a very slight denim jumper with an apple embroidered on the front...in her left hand was a History textbook and in her right was a red pen...and dangling from a collar around her neck, nestled between her breasts, was a golden apple... It all finally dawned on the pretty teacher. It was her. Under glass. Forever. Chris and Brian watched from the side as her outward transformation completed. To anyone who walked in now, Denise was simply another statue, a pretty object in their collection. Chris smiled as he looked down on the plaque in his hand, beginning to engrave her name and birthdate...