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.