The Collector 01


Yeah, I’ve got an obsession. On the outside I look like a normal guy. I’m tall and good looking. I dress well, have good manners and make friends easily. Women tend to notice me in a positive way. I’ve got a solid nine-to-five job, a nice apartment and a new car. But I’ve got this obsession.

I’m obsessed with getting blow jobs. I know, I know. What guy isn’t? But with me it’s not just about getting them, but getting them from different women. Lots of different women. I can’t meet a woman without wondering about if she likes having a cock in her mouth, how good she is at giving head, if she swallows, etc. Again, I’m sure there are guys out there that wonder about women like that, but the difference is, I actually try to find out.

A while back I decided that I should indulge my obsession. I should go out and get as many different women as I could to go down on me. As I mentioned, I’m a good looking guy, I’m in my late twenties and I can be a smooth talker, suave even, when it counts. So I’ve had a pretty successful time of it.

Fact is, I’ve been getting so many women to suck me off that I decided I needed to start this journal to keep track of them all. Each woman and each blow job is unique and I want to be able to remember and relive them all. I don’t usually get more than one or two from any one woman. I figure most women are going to give their best effort the first time anyway. And unless there’s a reason she can’t–like we’re in an unsuitable place or in rushed circumstances or it’s been a while since the last time–I don’t like to go back for seconds. I want to remember a woman at her finest, not after so many that it becomes routine.

Yeah, so I generally don’t see women again after I’ve gotten them to do the deed. Does that make me an asshole? Probably. But I don’t lead them on or give any indication that I’m looking for a relationship. In fact, I usually never sleep with any of them. I generally don’t care if I even see them naked, unless it’s somehow part of the context of the blow job. I don’t mess around with younger women generally, unless they are obviously players. I try to avoid emotionally vulnerable ones too, although they’re not so easy to pick out. I stick to the ones that are old enough and wise enough to see me for the self-serving jerk I am and are willing to blow me anyway.

* * * * *

My first entry, who was in fact the first woman to give me head after I decided to give in to my obsession, is a perfect example of the kind of woman I look for.

Anita (no, that’s not her real name) works at the company I used to work for. I stayed in touch with a lot of people there and go to happy hours with them from time to time. They go out after work on Thursday nights and it’s usually a decent crowd. Most of them are young and single like me, but they include everyone, so there’s a broad mix of people.

Anita was not a regular at these happy hours, but she did make it out once in a while. This particular night was before a Friday holiday, so there were a lot more people than usual. It was also a bit more festive and ran much later than would ordinarily be the case. Long after the happy hour drink specials were over, half of us were still there, talking, drinking, dancing and just generally having a good time.

Anita wasn’t part of the twenty-something crowd that went out every week. She was older, in her mid-forties I’d guess. She was divorced with kids, one in college and another in high school. She didn’t dress or act like anyone’s mother though. Her clothes were tight and often revealing, in a classy way. And her body was one that deserved to be shown off. She was petite, maybe five-one or five-two. It was difficult to say because she always wore high heels. She had C-cup breasts, lusciously curvy hips and terrific legs. Her skirts were usually to her knee or just above. She wore a lot of make-up, but not too much. She certainly didn’t look trashy. She had shoulder length curly brown hair with blonde highlights that was always immaculately styled. She wore a lot of jewelry, none of it cheap or gaudy. Everything about her appearance was designed to make men notice her. And they did.

It wasn’t just her clothes and how they fit her either. She had a wiggle to her walk that could give a man a hard on. She was flirty, bubbly and very touchy feely, at least with men. She was blessed with fine equipment and she knew how to use it. She thrived on getting men’s attention, particularly younger guys like me.

At the bar that night, Anita was messing around with one of my friends, Pete. He obviously wasn’t sure how to take it or what to do. After all, Anita was a good twenty years older than him and had kids almost his age. Anita probably loved making him squirm, knowing that he couldn’t help being turned on by her, and not knowing if he should go for it.

I was watching at one point when Pete sat back, spread his legs apart and gestured toward his crotch. I couldn’t hear their words, but it was kind of obvious what he was saying. Without hesitating, she stood up and reached her hand Escort Sincan toward his fly. He jumped, twisted away from her and closed his legs. She laughed and smiled, her pearly white teeth and full, ruby lips taunting him as he blushed. There was no doubt in my mind that if he hadn’t pulled away, she would have grabbed his cock through his pants.

She wasn’t quite that brazen with me. Probably because she knew I would let her grab me. Not that she wouldn’t want to, but it was a different kind of thrill she was getting with Pete. She wasn’t taking Pete home. He was just a game she was playing. I waited and watched her as our crowd slowly began to thin out.

As I said, this was the time when I first decided that I wanted to indulge my blow job obsession and it was no accident that I was hanging around a bar where Anita was. I had often thought about her beautiful red lips, her ring-encrusted fingers with perfectly manicured nails wrapping around my shaft. I figured she would be a good place to start. I didn’t know if she actually would or not, but she wouldn’t get offended if tried.

When the DJ started playing, Anita got up and started dancing. She pulled a bunch of the guys, mostly the younger ones, onto the dance floor. Most of them went reluctantly and for good reason. There wasn’t a good dancer among them. I waited until she looked like she was about to give up on them and then went out on the floor.

I’m no great dancer, but by comparison I was looking damn good. Anita smiled and said she didn’t think I’d ever come out and dance. I smiled back, winked and told her she was looking too good for me to not dance with her. She said something along the lines of, “yeah, right,” but her smile got a little bigger.

It was too loud on the dance floor to talk much, but I took the opportunity to make lots of eye contact with her and rub up against her ever so lightly. She was the one who raised the bar though, when she turned her back to me and ground her deliciously rounded ass into my crotch. When she turned back to me to gauge my response, I pulled her against me and gyrated my body against hers. She stepped back, but not in any hurry, wagged her finger and gave me her best you-naughty-boy smile. At that point I was pretty sure I had her.

“Let me get you a drink,” I said to her.

“I don’t know if I should,” she told me. “I have to drive.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“I bet you will,” she said with a smirk. “But what will it cost me?”

I shrugged and said, “Tell me when you’re ready to find out.”

I got the drinks, but we hardly touched them. Ten minutes later, we were in my car headed for Anita’s house.

On the way I started caressing her leg. She was wearing a tight red skirt that stopped short of her knees. When she sat down, it rode up a little, exposing the lower part of her thigh to the tickling of my fingers. She was getting into it, so I slid my hand slowly up her skirt. I was nearly to her bush when she pulled my hand away.

“Not so fast,” she said, almost panting. I bet if she had let me, I could have made her cum pretty quickly. I started moving my hand down her thigh again. This time, instead of pushing it away, she reached out and put her hand on my crotch. She started rubbing my cock through my pants and I could feel myself getting hard under her touch. She rubbed and squeezed me for a couple minutes before she unzipped my fly and reached in to pull out my hardened cock. Then she leaned over and put her head down in my lap.

My whole body was tingling with anticipation. I could feel her hot breath on the head of my member. But she was in no hurry, no doubt savoring the excruciating suspense I was experiencing. Finally I felt her tongue run up the underside of my shaft, slowly tracing my pulsing vein. She licked up and down a few times, at the same agonizingly slow pace. I didn’t know if I could wait any longer to feel her perfect red lips close around my cock.

Then it happened. Her mouth came down over the head of my member, her lips sealing around me. She slid them up, almost until I fell out of her mouth. Then she bobbed down again, gently. Once, twice… I could hardly drive. I thought my head would explode from her teasing.

Then she let me fall out of her mouth, tucked my rock hard cock back into my pants and sat up. I didn’t know what to say or do. I so wanted her to keep going. I will say that she knew how to sexually torment a man. At that instant, I would have said or done anything to get her to continue.

A few minutes later I pulled up in front of her house. The lights were all out. Good. No one was home. But Anita didn’t invite me it. She gave me a quick kiss and thanked me for driving her home.

“You aren’t going to invite me in?” I asked. I was surprised and not just a little disappointed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “My kids could be home any time now.”

“You’ve got enough time to finish what you started.”

She glanced at her watch, then over her shoulder at the darkened house. “I don’t Sincan Escort know,” she said.

I knew it was just posturing at this point. Even if she wanted it, she wasn’t going to make it easy. She was toying with me, and loving every minute of it. I leaned across the seat and gave her a deep, passionate kiss. Then I kissed her neck in several places. She threw her head back, surrendering her throat to my kisses. Then she pushed me away again.

“Ok, come on inside,” she said. I guess even if she wasn’t sure what she wanted, she didn’t want to decide in front of her house where her neighbors would be watching. I’ve since found this is an effective strategy. Women are often more worried about being seen making out in their driveways then they are about what happens behind closed doors.

We went inside and she led me to her living room. She told me to have a seat while she went to get some drinks. She came back a few minutes later with a couple glasses of wine. We both took a couple sips and made a few jokes about getting each other drunk. Then we were making out on the sofa like a couple of high school kids. Our hands and lips were all over each other when I started sliding my hand up under her skirt, tracing the inside of her thigh. This time I got as far as caressing the mound between her thighs before she stopped me. Again her method of stopping me was distraction.

She grabbed my swollen shaft through my pants and squeezed it gently. Then she lowered her head into my lap and began rubbing her cheek against me. She was moaning softly as she did. I couldn’t see her face, only the waves of her curly hair in my lap, but I’m guessing her eyes were closed. When she started udoing my pants, it was my turn to put on the brakes.

I pulled away from her and stood up and retreated a step from the sofa. She looked up in surprise. But when I took her hands and guided her toward me, she understood immediately. She slid off of the sofa and got on her knees on the floor before me. She looked up at me as she unzipped my pants and reached her hand inside. This time I didn’t pull away, of course.

I had two reasons for standing up. First, a blow job is, by it’s nature, a submissive act. So a woman who wants to give head properly should, in my opinion, be on her knees with her man standing over her. I find it incredibly sexy to see a woman on her knees in any context, but especially when she’s in front of me unzipping my pants.

The second reason was that I wanted to watch. To see Anita’s beautiful lips on my shaft; to look into her eyes as she pleasured me. On the sofa as we had been, I could see only the back of her head. This was a much better perspective. Especially since I knew I was in for a repeat of the tantalizing she had been driving me crazy with in the car.

I have to say that it started out as a perfect blow job. Anita simply did everything exactly right. I can’t think of anything she could have done to make it more exciting or pleasurable.

First, her form was excellent. She knelt with her knees together, toes pointed straight out behind her and of course she was still wearing her high heels. Her posture was good, her back slightly arched. Her head, tilted back to look up into my eyes, was below the level of my belt, her lips just below where my shaft was pounding in my pants. Her breast were rubbing on the insides of my legs as she arched into me.

As Anita unzipped my pants, she was smiling and joking that she knew she had too much to drink if she was doing this. I doubt alcohol had anything to do with it though. She just wanted it. I could see it in her eyes.

As she had done in the car, she took her time, savoring my agony. My cock was rock hard, screaming to be in her mouth, but she wasn’t going to be rushed. She pulled my pants down, my stiff member almost slapping her in the face. She took it in her hand and rubbed it on her cheek, then on her lips and then the other cheek. She was watching me the whole time, clearly wanting to see what she was doing to me.

She planted a wet kiss on the head of my shaft and ran her fingers lightly along it. She slipped her other hand underneath and gently stroked my balls. She had to see it was killing me, but if anything, that made her go even slower. Finally, she paused with her face a couple inches from the end of my cock and, looking up at me, opened her mouth. Her tongue came out, like she was about to receive communion. She was getting closer, closer… in a few more seconds I’d be inside…

She pulled back abruptly. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this,” she said. My heart skipped a beat, my head spinning. I couldn’t think clearly. Was she really going to stop now? She must have seen the look of panic on my face, because she laughed at me. “What? Like you really want some old lady like me to do you.”

“You’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met in my life.” It just popped out of my mouth before I even realized it. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment either, although I would have said anything. She was an incredibly sexy Sincan Escort Bayan woman.

“Good answer!” she laughed.

“Just don’t stop,” I begged her.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to go home with a smile on your face.” She leaned forward and opened her mouth again. “You want me to put it in my mouth, don’t you?”

I nodded and moaned.

“Mmmm… well, I want you in my mouth.” With that, her lips parted and her mouth slid down my pole. She bobbed slowly a couple of times and looked up at me. “Yeah, just like that,” she said, slipping me back into her warm, wet mouth.

Her form was perfect. She held her body steady and bobbed her head from the neck. She went slow and steady, taking in at least three-quarters of my rod each time. Deep and slow she sucked, her eyes closed one minute, looking up at me the next. To me a woman never looks more beautiful than she does on her knees with my cock in her mouth. Anita was stunningly gorgeous at that moment. Her ruby red lips were stretched around my tool, leaving a trail of shiny saliva on me. Her hands massaged the base of my shaft and caressed my balls.

She continued sucking me that way, not speeding up or stroking me with her hands. She paused from time to time to lick my head or my balls, but each time she resumed at the same leisurely pace. The pressure was building in me. It was so incredibly sensuous, the way her mouth engulfed me and drove me crazy with pleasure.

I was in desperate need of release, but her unhurried pace wasn’t going to make it happen any time soon. Rather, it just built up the pressure, making the pleasure almost too excruciating to bear. When she looked up at me, it was too much to take and I had to look away. I writhed, my insides quivering as she relentlessly sucked my cock.

She continued that way for maybe ten minutes, but it seemed like forever. A couple times I got close to cumming, but she must have sensed it, because she’d stop and lick me gently for a minute, waiting for me to pull back from the brink. Then she would wrap her lips around me and take me deep into her mouth again, over and over and over…

I wanted to run my hands through that gorgeous hair of hers, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t caress her face, run my fingers across the back of her neck or anything that I liked to do to a woman while she was giving me head. I was paralyzed. All I could do was stand there and let Anita torment me with her incredible mouth.

“Had enough yet?” she asked and kissed the base of my shaft.

“Oh, God!” was all I could say. She had me and she knew it. I watched as my member, glistening with her saliva, disappeared into her mouth again. My body shook involuntarily. I had to cum and I had to cum soon! But Anita wasn’t done toying with me yet. She resumed her deep, sensuous sucking, knowing perfectly well she was killing me.

This time when I got close though she didn’t stop. Instead, she added some soft moaning to her steady bobbing. It was enough to bring me to a boil. I felt myself stiffen. I cried out as my body spasmed in orgasm. Just as I came, she pulled me from her mouth, pointed my cock at her breasts and stroked me vigorously with her hand.

It was an incredible orgasm.. I could hardly see straight as I watched my load splatter her chest and blouse. She continued pumping me, eliciting a few smaller spurts until I was completely spent. She grasped me firmly by the base of my member, milking out the last little dribble of sperm and wiped it on the front of her blouse. She held my cock in her hand a moment longer, looking at it and slowly stroking it. Then Anita planted a kiss on the head and tucked it back into my pants.

Sitting back on her heels, she looked down at herself. Splatters of cum were all over the front of her elegant silk blouse. A thick wad of it was running down her chest into her cleavage.

“Wow, somebody really needed to blow their top,” she laughed. “Now you better get out of here and let me get cleaned up before my kids get home.”

* * * * *

All in all, it was a pretty awesome blow job. If I had to write a book on how a woman should give head, I would use Anita as an example. At least for the first three-quarters of her performance. Elegantly dressed, down on her knees, playful, teasing and deliberately tantalizing… My only disappointment was that she didn’t let me cum in her mouth. Big deal, you say. After all, she jerked me off all over her tits. That should be good enough, right? But it isn’t. I’m not entirely sure why. I don’t know that it enhances the actual physical pleasure in the slightest, but I always want to be in the woman’s mouth when I unload.

Anita certainly gave me a spectacular orgasm. But I left slightly disappointed that she hadn’t tasted my cum. And also that she hadn’t swallowed. Again, swallowing has nothing to do with physical aspect, but there is something erotic about it that makes it the perfect ending to a beautifully submissive act. Face it, don’t men (maybe women, too) look at a woman differently when they know she swallows? Why? I’m not sure. Maybe because it’s a tangible measure of how far she’ll go to please a man: she knows you’re going to fill her mouth with hot, sticky, nasty tasting goop and she not only does the deed anyway, but drinks down your seed like it was nectar. What a woman!

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