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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 illegal bahis 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 illegal bahis siteleri 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 canlı bahis siteleri (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?”
“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.
“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.
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