Animated by Anime

First time I saw him, in theory of artificial intelligence 101, he was wearing a hoody with an anime style girl that said "I only care about anime and about 3 people." It made me laugh and I had to compliment him on the sweater. He asked if I like anime too and I nodded. His accent made it clear English was his second language but his English was quite good if he didn't talk too fast. He noted my reaction to his accent and explained he was here from Japan to study.

I told him he looked a little young to be in college and he shrugged and said he had learned all he could in his high school, which given Japanese educational system meant to me he was some kind of genius. Not knowing what else to say I told him welcome and offered the seat next to me in the lecture hall.

That turned out to be smart since he was a top student and helped me with the harder equations, but that was later when we became buddies. Akira was maybe 5'2", which is average for Japan. He seemed tiny to me. His straight black hair was parted in the middle and reached a little below his jaw line. Of course, his almond eyes were very dark and seemed over sized for his small face and narrow chin. He could have been a refugee from an anime series himself.

Over the next few weeks, we had some time to get to know each other when walking to and from the one class we shared. Occasionally we would eat lunch together. Then one day he rushed up all excited. He bowed, something he did that made me a bit uncomfortable, then blurted out excitedly, "ko-su-pray,"

I gave him a blank look. He continued in a more formal and less excitable working hard to get control of his R's, "Cosplay party Friday night. We will go?"

As much as I like anime harem videos, I had never done any cosplay and was a bit taken aback by the idea. I protested that I didn't do cosplay and didn't have a costume of any sort. He countered that costume was not required. The players always appreciated an audience. I agreed I could be a good audience for babes in spandex. He was a bit nervous about going on his own. So, it was agreed I would meet him at his dorm and walk him over to the party in the student center.

The appointed time arrived, I knocked on his door. He lived in a campus dorm along with other students from around the world and kids who came in from out of state. It was not plush accommodation but cheaper than my own miniature studio off campus.

When the door opened, I had a moment of cognitive dissonance. Standing framed in the threshold was Rem, a character from the well-regarded anime Zero. I was rendered speechless because the Rem character is a blue haired maid; maid as in girl, in a short maid's dress. The figure that stood before me was every inch a faithful emulation of that character. Black and white maid's out fit with swallow tail back, thigh high white stockings, black Mary Jane heels and a little lace tiara.

I gawped for several moments before he took me by the wrist and pulled in into the small room, closing the door. "What is the matter, Mathew San?"

I mumbled for a moment before I said, "You are dressed like Rem from Zero."

He beamed and did a spin to flare out his skirt. "I did good?" The spin revealed slim legs with white hose topped by small pink bow and pink accented, white panties.

"Very good," I admitted. That was not the point of course. At least not to me. The point was that he was dressed as a girl anime. I had expected some hero with a sword or gun. To cover my confusion, I asked an innocent question.

"Why chose Rem?" I asked.

"She is very loyal and supportive. And she follows Subaru even though he will never love her."

I suppose I was hoping the answer was that it was the only costume he could get at short notice. Whatever I was expecting, hearing him explain in detail his reason for the costume didn't set my mind at ease. "You like dressing like a girl?" I heard myself ask.

"Oh yes, I feel so real when I am doing cosplay. I also like to be Taiga Aisaka, Toradora! I like the pleated skirt, but that outfit is still in Japan. I couldn't leave my maid costume home. One should always have a maid costume."

The light was beginning to dawn on me. My friend Akira might be a real life Japanese femboy. Since I had never been in the same zip code as a femboy, let alone the same room, I felt I needed to explain. I announced, "I am not gay."

Akira/Rem giggled with hilarity. Doing a little happy dance and clapper hands in mirth. "Of course, you are not gay. I am not gay either."

I started to breath again and then Akira continued, "I am a Pangalactic sexual. I think all sentient lifeforms deserve to enjoy sex. Maybe even AI someday."

My mind was a bit sluggish due to the avalanche of recent revelations and it took me a moment to parse the meaning of his confession. Akira would have sex with just about anybody, maybe anything. This was not what I wanted to hear because I was having a hard time reminding myself that the diminutive Asian in the maid's outfit was a guy.

Lascivious memories of watching anime and lusting after the girls only conjured similar feelings upon seeing one in the flesh. I told myself that Rem was just an illusion, but the self below the belt was not convinced.

"What's wrong Mathew San?" he asked, seeing the strange expression on my face. I was trying hard to sort through what I was learning, seeing, and feeling so maybe it looked like I was having a stroke. Rem flounced over to me and looked up into my face with deep brown eyes, crimson lips, and obvious concern. "Are you unwell?" he asked, touching the back of his small hand to my forehead.

Being touched so softly galvanized me and I seized his wrist and pulled it away with a frown. His eyes widened, lashes fluttering in concern. Stepping even closer, not attempting to pull his hand away from my hard grip he asked, "Did I do something wrong?" I found it hard to explain what he had done but since he was close enough for my chubby to dent his abdomen, I figure he guessed.

His eyes locked with mine and he offered a smile that showed white teeth and moist parted lips. His face was too close and too closely resembling a hot anime for my mind to accept, but my body had other ideas. When he rose on tip toe and pressed his lips to mine, my brain wanted to scream and run, but my mouth covered his and we shared a kiss that was anything but platonic.

Akira squirmed against me while slender arms reached up to hold my broad shoulders. My hands, in need of occupation, found their way to his round taut bottom. Warm cheeks were just right for squeezing. The muscle tone was good yet yielding and the size was perfect fit for my broad hands. I don't remember making the decision, but I suddenly had my hands up under his dress and inside his panties. The flesh was smooth, soft, and pleasantly warm. "Oh god," I thought, "I'm feeling up my friend's ass."

My friend liked it and writhed delightedly as I fondled him. We kissed a bit more and I fondled a bit longer than we came up for air. We looked at each other. Akira sensed my mind was balanced on a razor. "I like men who like women. I like being good woman for strong man like you Mathew San."

It was a sales pitch to make me forget he was a boy. I wish I could say I had enough moral fiber not to fall for that ploy. He slid down my chest, went to his knees and began to defeat my belt. I replayed his words in my mind and they seemed the most logical argument I had ever heard.

By that point in my life, I had some experience with getting head. I soon learned there was no real comparison between what I though a blow job was and what it could be. Akira as Rem, was gentle, attentive, and voracious.

Vigorous when needed yet playful enough to do loving poses with my dick cuddled to his cheek while offering rapturous giggling. It was an eye batting, tongue licking, throat sucking tour de force that made me think of the old joke about sucking a golf ball through fifty foot of garden hose. If anyone could do that Akira could.

As good as his mouth and slender fingers felt, I was being teased to within an inch of my life. Akira was not driving toward any conclusion, but appeared content to amuse himself at my nut sack's expense. Not sure how he managed to keep me below the edge but I suppose it is something they teach in femboy school. Anyway, I finally had to demand he get serious before my balls turned blue and fell off.

"You want to come in my mouth," he cooed.

"Mouth, face, hair, I don't care I'm in pain here," I whined.

"I want you to come in me, but not my mouth," he said, putting a finger in his mouth suggestively. Before I could reply to the hint, he stood up, turned around and lifted the back of his skirt so he could rub his white panties on my raging cock.

As if it was life vest tossed for a drowning man I grabbed at the waistband of his cotton undies. I used more force than I realized and my action ripped them right off, exposing a nice round bottom. I took smooth hips in a death grip and pulled that beautiful ass toward me.

I was slick with Akira's spit and pre-cum. I began to press against his yielding pucker. He came up on tip toe and pushed back against me. He warbled a string of high-pitched Japanese, which I assumed meant don't' stop. I didn't.

I was inexperienced in anal sex and expected it to be harder to defeat his tight back door. I was surprised that my ridged dick pried his pucker open with relative ease. Ease for me at least, but the way he danced on tip toe and squirmed I think I was a bit bigger than he was accustomed to.

It was the tightest thing I had ever shoved my dick in. I can only imagine what he felt as Akira engulfed my dick up to my curly pubes. He leaned back against me with his slender arms twined around my neck to keep his balance on tip toe. He rested his head back on my shoulder and whispered something in Japanese that sounded very cute.

The process of entry had diminished the rhythm my dick demanded. I risked deflation and defeat. I solved that by pulling back and shoving in swiftly, too swiftly and too hard. Akira stumbled forward and my dick dislodged. The maid staggered forward but the room was small so rather than hit the floor Akira landed on his narrow bed.

I hobbled after him with my jeans around my knees. He pulled himself up to rest on knee on the bed and the other foot on the floor. I moved swiftly manhandling his bare thighs and held him firm as I pushed again. It was even easier this time and I managed to get so deep the crown of my dick encountered another tight aperture deep inside. When I bounced up against that second muscle Akira went all wriggling, whimpering and began clawing at his bed.

I eased off thinking I was killing him, "Did I hurt you?"

He gave me a pained smile over his shoulder and said, "Yes, it hurts so good. You will make me come Mathew San." To make clear his position on the subject he wriggled his ass on my deep dick.

I gave a mental shrug and began again, this time managing to pierced that second obstacle with my thumping vigor. Energetically engaged in popping in and out of that tighter inner door made my dick's head very happy. I wasn't the only one it made happy. Akira began squealing, convulsing, and his pucker began squeezing me with profound power. "I am coming," he announced to the world as if his dramatic display could be missed.

Dimpling his ass with my thick fingers, I ravaged him with deep thrusts. It was so hot and exciting I was moments from climax. I can not say that it was better than fucking a pussy, but the entire drama was magical. Akira's body language, verbal mewing and dramatic release certainly made it one of the most memorable sexual events I had yet had. So hot, so fun that I had to keep repeating to myself, "I am not gay."

I kept up that mantra until I unloaded into him several months of stored spunk. It certainly seemed like the hardest orgasm I had experienced. More detonation than ejaculation and as the spurt of hot spunk and jerk of cock began Akira pushed back against me, reached between his legs to hold, and fondle my balls least I pull away before I was empty.

Giving oohs and aww as if watching fireworks, Akira quivered on my dick with splendid delight. It was as if feeling my seed fill him was transcendental. Feeling him take my load with such obvious joy and trembling hunger was so dam exciting I kept my dick in him until I began to subside.

Once I pulled free, he let himself fall forward onto the bed. I panted with exhaustion. I staggered back and sat heavily on a chair by his small desk.

He rolled to his side and curled up on the bed so he could see me. He smoothed his dress down and hid from view the bare ass that had so recently occupied my full attention. In a conciliatory tone he said, "I didn't plan to trap you. Honest."

"It wasn't a trap. Not exactly," I said.

Akira sat at the edge of the bed, feet dangling back and forth. "Mathew San not mad?"

I thought about the question for a moment while I sorted through the answers floating around in my cranium. I was mad as hell at myself for having so little control. I was mad at Akira for being so cute and such an awesome fuck. I was mad at the world for conspiring to drop me into this situation.

The more I contemplated Akira's question the more I began to realized that my anger was because I had enjoyed poking my seed deep into him. Enjoyed seeing him squirm on my dick with rapture. Worst of all, I thrilled at the idea of doing it again.

"I am a little mad. I was looking forward to the party, but we are going to miss it," I said. I stood up, pulled my shirt off, kicked my sneakers off, and peeled my jeans off. I stepped out of them and Akira smiled at me with a look that was both submissive and ravenous.

He scooted to lay back on the bed, finger in mouth, toes pointing together. I climbed between his white stocking clad legs while he pulled his dress up. My cock, already beginning to swell, rubbed his petite pecker deliciously while he giggled.

I pushed him back into the bed with the weight of my body and we kissed and writhed until my dick grew demanding. With our chubby junk mingling Akira's slender legs came up to cradle my hips and hook his heel at my back. I stuffed a pillow under his lush tush and we shared another long kiss as I eased into him again. I gave a mental shrugged of admission that I might be a tiny bit gay for Akira.