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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1461465
Rated: XGC · Short Story · Adult · #1461465
This is a story about a one a.m. visitor ~~~
Prompt


We've all seen them, that couple that your first thought is "Huh?" That couple where one is attractive and the other looks... well, geekish. So now is your chance to tell us what happens in the bedroom when the two of them finally get together.


Here is what I would like to read about:

I would like you to spin me a romancerotica tale (with the emphasis on romance) of what it would be like when these two meet for the first time in the bedroom. And just to make it a bit more interesting... write your story from the Geek's point of view.



If you read this piece, please comment and rate. You may do so privately, if you wish.



The Geek’s Tale





I pushed my glasses back onto the crest of my nose. Then I shoveled my hand through what remained of my hair. I was pretty sure it was sticking up in the back. It usually was when I woke up in the morning. But appearance was only half of my worry. The big problem was that this girl I’d never seen before was standing on my doorstep asking me if she could come in.

I know a lot of guys wouldn’t call that a problem. The girl was in her mid twenties with the face of an angel and wearing a shiny, candy apple red dress that quit about halfway up her thighs, like some chick in a strip joint, (I suppose, never having actually been courageous enough to venture inside one.) Her auburn hair was long and wavy. She had curls falling all the way down almost to the short, short length of her dress.

So, what was the problem? Well, it was one o’clock in the morning. I was in my pajamas – the striped blue and red ones, and . . . well, like I said -- I’d never seen the girl before.

I stood there, I’m sure with my mouth dangling open. A fly could have flown in. A bumblebee could have held a party inside. I was that stupefied.

The woman’s eyes scanned my mouth, my well-pronounced Adam’s apple and continued lower – all the way down my striped PJ’s to my feet – big hairy ones, I’m afraid. Then she reversed that glance, and slowly started back up.

That was too much for me. I knew what she’d see. I took a step back, and the girl came in, casual as if she were my sister or something.

“I dddddon’t know yyyyou,” I stuttered, as she turned about to lock the door with the deadbolt, fastened the chain, and then smiled back at me.

“I know,” she said. “But I’m your neighbor, and my boyfriend is acting violent. I didn’t know what else to do, so I came over here. That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean I won’t bother you or anything. You march off to bed. I’ll just lie down on the couch, over there, and you’ll hardly know I’m here. Okay?”

“Uhhhh,” I said. I closed my mouth and blinked a couple of times.

“Don’t worry about me,” she continued, sashaying her way over to my couch to drop down on the brown tweed upholstery. “I really won’t bother you in the least,” she repeated, as she made a move to peel off one of her red patina leather boots.

I blinked and gasped. The girl was sitting with her legs open, and what I was seeing took away most of my innocence. She had no panties on! Her crotch was a matching auburn fire to her hair -- a sweet, little wreath of short curls.

Zzzzzip. The first boot was off. She lay it next to the coffee table. Her dress was bent up in the back. As she leaned over, I saw her tight little bottom. Oh, my! Something in the lower quadrant of my body woke up and demanded attention. I ignored it and looked away. Of course, I looked right back again.

Once more the girl spread her legs apart. She was unzipping her second boot.

“You like to watch?” she asked. “That’s cool. My boyfriend never liked to do that. He said it made him too horny, and since I’m a virgin and won’t go all the way until marriage – well, he just always took off whenever I started undressing.”

I understood why. I felt a pang of sympathy for the boyfriend, but I guess his loss was my gain. Only, I couldn’t draw breath. My tongue felt all thick and swollen. (Of course that wasn’t the only thing swollen, but I was trying to ignore that part of me.)

The girl got up off the couch and turned to place her other boot beside the first. Once more I saw things I shouldn’t be looking at. Her hips were ivory white and shapely as a goddess’ marble statue.

Under my pajama bottoms, my uprising bulged into new dimensions and hardened into something so tight it felt like my skin could no longer contain it.

Again I started to turn around and head off to my room, but a flash of red alerted me that there was much more to watch. As if I were a bull, hypnotized by red, I glanced back and froze -- not moving an inch except in the lower extremities where a major battle was being waged. My PJ’s had begun to pulsate.

The girl was raising up her dress. She slipped it over her head, then draped it carefully across the coffee table. “I suppose I should hang it up, but it’ll be fine just overnight,” the girl told me conversationally.

I nodded up and down like a piece of car décor – a smiling, bobbing head. The girl wasn’t wearing a single piece of clothing from her head clear down to the floor. I couldn't move my feet to the doorway of my bedroom. I couldn't budge.

The girl yawned. Then she lightly fingered a tangle in her head of hair. Her breasts lifted and firmed into perfect spheres. I was dying to touch them, to embrace them, to engulf them within my fingers. I formed fists at my side.

“You like my boobs?” she asked. “They’re all mine. My boyfriend wanted me to enlarge them, but I always refused. Do you think they’re okay? You want to feel them and see?”

“Uhhhh,” I murmured, not able to get out a word. I took two steps forward and then stopped, my eyes fixated, unable to look away. “I ththththink thththey’re ppppperfect,” I managed to say.

“I love a shy man,” she murmured with a smile and then skipped closer. “Here, don’t be afraid to touch them. It’s not like we’re going to do anything. You’re not wicked like that, right?”

I’d once skimmed through a Playboy Magazine where a man’s penis was called a “missile of masculinity.” Funny term, I’d thought then, but I suddenly understood completely. My missile had revved up its engines and was most assuredly ready to launch.

Yet, I said nothing as she brought my hand to her breast. Without thought, my fingers stretched out and squeezed.

“Oh, you’re divine. I can’t believe I never came over here before. You’re everything Raoul isn’t. Here, feel the other one,” she said, as she led us over to the couch.

I didn’t want to sit down beside her. I knew my missile would erupt if I did, yet a moment later, we were sitting side by side, me in my striped pajamas and her without a stitch of clothing.

“Don’t be afraid. You won’t hurt me,” she said, as she moved my hands over her nipples. “Oh, that feels so good. Raoul does that sometimes, but he’s so rough. You’re nothing like Raoul. I feel safe with you.”

I groaned. The pain in my extremity was like a knife striking skin. I needed to relieve it. I needed to get away from the girl, to run to the bathroom, to end this horrible torture.

She heard my moan. “Oh, is that my fault?” she asked. “I suppose it is. Raoul was always trying to explain that sometimes erections hurt. Here let me fix it. He showed me how. I’ll take away all your pain.”

I started to stand up, just to get away from her, but she grabbed me in that missile place. The groan I let out then wasn’t of pain. I was in heaven, and her touch was the angel of mercy.

The angel’s fingers rolled the tip of my penis. I whimpered like a toddler deprived of candy.

“Oh, poor man. Have I done this to you? I’m so sorry.”

She slid off the couch onto the floor. I thought I’d hurt her. I thought she’d be angry. I had no idea what she was intending to do.

But just I was about to apologize, her hand opened wider the slit in my PJ’s, and her lovely red hair fell down over my lap. Then her mouth opened and sucked up the major part of my throbbing organ. Out and in. Out and in. Ah, the pleasure. The sight of it. The sweetness of her apple-scented hair.

She nibbled and licked. She nudged and bit. She stroked my sack with her soft, scented fingers.

“Ah,” I said, lying back against the couch. “Ah.”

And then she stopped as suddenly as she’d begun. “You know it really isn’t fair that you have all the fun. I’ve been saying ‘no’ to my boyfriend for seven months. Not once have I wanted to slip him inside me, but I do now. I mean not him. I mean you. I want you. Do you think that would be okay?”

“Uhhhhh,” I said, not able to speak again. My mouth was so dry I could barely wiggle my tongue.

“I love that you’re so shy. I really do. It’s like you’re letting me go at my own pace. You’re not pushing me or anything. I think I’m falling in love. Is that okay?”

Her dainty nose was nudging my rather elongated nasal fixture. Her eyes, dark green as leaves or grass, were staring deeply into mine. Her lashes filled with tears when I didn’t answer.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes,”

Her eyes sparkled at my response. She threw herself into the process of stripping off my PJ’s. I didn't stop her, of course. I was feeling like I’d just been invited to Paradise. Me, the geek that none of the girls had previously even wanted to talk to. Was it my birthday? Had I won the lottery?

In a moment, I was as naked as she was. I felt her eyes assessing me. I bit my upper lip and shut my eyes, not wanting to see her rejection.

“No hair!” she said. “You don’t have hair on your chest! I love that. That’s so sexy! And you’re skinny. I bet you hardly eat. I’ll fix that. I’ll cook for you. Would you like me to cook? I’m a gourmet chef.”

She was fondling my missile. I’d have agreed to anything right then, but I didn’t have to say a word, for her lips found mine, and we kissed.

That was a lovely experience. I’d never done it like she did it -- not deep and tongue to tongue.

“Ah,” I sighed when she lifted up again.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you’re the one I’ve been waiting for. Take me. Take me. Take me!” she screamed.

I would have made the attempt, but she was already shoving me down. She threw me back against the couch and hopped onto my chest. Then she slowly slid her body backwards, her pussy contacting every pore of my skin. I quivered. My ears were ringing. Trumpets were sounding a salute.

And then she popped on top of my missile and began to rock about. She didn’t have the rhythm she needed. I guided her a little – not that I knew much about such things, but I figured we needed to do a little more than just touch her inner wet skin to my hard, throbbing beast.

Yet now that the moment was about to actually happen, I didn’t want to rush anything too much. Chances are that something like this would never occur again. Not to me, anyway. I was determined to make it last.

The girl’s legs were pressed against my skin. I roamed them freely with my hands, stroking them in tiny circles. Her breasts – those incredibly desirable great balls of sweet-scented loveliness were arched in front of my face. I reached up and sucked them, one at a time. It was nice to hear her doing some groaning, too.

But my lady friend began lifting up and down with more frenetic motions. She was panting, too. In a moment, she was begging me even louder "to take her." What could I do but give in to her desire?

I collapsed the girl a bit, sending her pussy deep down onto my throbbing organ.

“Ouch,” she cried out, but I worked her lower body up and down, up and down a couple of times. Nature took over from there. Once again, my tigress energized and began to thrash and twitch.

At moments, I stopped her, and we kissed. We dallied then to play – she with her fingers teasing my nipples. I returning the favor with great contentment.

But then, too soon, the fever came over us both, and the music escalated in both volume and pitch.

“Ahhhh,” I sang.

“Ahhhh,” she responded.

“Ahhhh.”

“Ahhhh.”

“AHHHH!” we chorused together. Then we slowly slid to a stop, both of us still seeing stars. We clasped each other and kissed even deeper. The after effect of our buzz gave off such a sweet glow. We smiled into each other’s faces, both of us beaming.

~~~~~~~~


When my alarm clock went off at six, I jumped off the couch and went running to knock the thing into silence. I turned back to look at what the doorbell’s ring had brought me.

“I love you,” Jody called, rising from under the blanket I'd thrown over us, her breasts bouncing from side to side as she stretched.

“I love you, too,” I said and smiled at her lovely sweetness.

I called in to the computer firm where I worked. “I can’t come to the office. Got a head cold,” I said. Still on the couch, making lazy circles on my leg, my night visitor giggled.

Jody got up and fixed breakfast. She was right, you know. I am rather skinny, so I ate all the pancakes, eggs, and hash browns she made for me. She was telling no lie about being a proficient cook.

After breakfast I decided to start building up my muscles. I figured they could use some improvement. So, I got on top and did push-ups while Jody moaned and groaned and cried out, “I love you!”

Believe me -- for a geek like me, life sure can't get any better!



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1461465