Of Geeks and Girlsbyadam applebiter©
[Author's Note: All characters in this story are OVER 18.]
Andy hadn't slept well. The timpani of rain on the skylight wasn't entirely to blame. When he had dozed fitfully, he dreamed of the girl downstairs, on his sofa. Every time a particularly heavy flurry of rain woke him, he found his hand full of hard dick. Hadn't slept well? Make that hadn't slept at all.
It wasn't even as if she was that sexy. Her older sister had all the curves and the Shirley Temple curls gone south and grown into a heavy golden mane. Kelsey, his impromptu houseguest, was – had always been - the boyish one. But while her sister got all the attention, Kelsey had quietly grown up. Her figure was still... Well Andy reckoned you couldn't call that a figure. She had no tits to speak of and hips that wouldn't look out of place on a python but Andy didn't care.
His bedroom was opposite hers and, for over a year, surreptitiously watching her undress had been his only sexual release. Now she was actually in his house, his dick was working overtime. He'd jerked off twice in the night but still had a woody at 6AM so he gave up on sleeping, pulled on some sweatpants and a T-shirt and went downstairs.
Andy's computer was in the living room so he had to be quiet. He managed to boot the PC without too much noise. Kelsey, less than twenty feet away, barely stirred as the Microsoft chimes rang out. Andy took the precaution of turning off the speakers and opened his email.
He kept glancing at the sleeping girl and, consequently, kept absently brushing the tent pole woody in his pants. Fuck! She was so his speed. And here she was, in her undies, sleeping on his sofa. She'd turned up about eight last night, locked out because her parents had rushed off somewhere and hadn't expected her home until tomorrow – today now. She'd only wanted to use the phone to call them and find out where the hell they were but, as Andy listened to Kelsey's half of the conversation, it became clear she needed somewhere to crash and in a moment of uncharacteristic forwardness, he'd suggested she could stay with him. So here she was – the object of all his fantasies – on his sofa.
He was just finishing the last of his replies when Kelsey sighed and rolled over, the blanket he'd given her lifting clear of her backside, exposing her tiny, firm butt wrapped in thin white cotton. Andy's dick throbbed.
He couldn't resist loosening the cord on his pants and fishing out his rod. As Kelsey settled back into deep sleep, facing away from him, he stroked his dick and gazed at her almost bare ass, thinking how much he wanted those undies not to be there. Still, even obscured by cotton, it was worth a hand-job. The pervy prospect of jerking off in the same room as her made him even harder. He leaned back in his chair and stroked himself with greater urgency. It didn't take long. In less than five minutes, he tensed and unloaded a half-hearted squirt of jism, diminished by his two earlier orgasms.
Fuck yeah. He thought, relaxing and enjoying the post climax fugue for a minute before stealthily getting up, limp dick still out of his pants, and went into the kitchen for Kleenex. He wiped the sticky mess off his fingers and his dick then went back to his computer and tried to get on with some work. He was a technical author so worked from home, writing boring manuals for engineering software: meaning he had no work life just as he had no social life to speak of, most of his contact with people being via MSN these days. When he thought about this – not often – he was honest enough to admit that solitary geekdom wasn't what he'd planned for his life. He just never seemed to have the courage or time to do anything about it. Jerking off just now, with his dream girl blissfully unaware of his lust, was not just the perviest thing he'd ever done: it was also the bravest.
Kelsey moved, drawing his attention again. Her long, skinny legs curled up, accentuating the curve of her ass. He reached for his digital camera, currently hooked up as a webcam, and snapped a few pics of her tight white undies moulded over her rounded butt cheeks. They'd do for his next wank or six. He felt a little ashamed of his voyeurism, but only a little. He'd been spying on her for long enough to rationalize most of his guilty feelings.
Kelsey woke an hour later – an hour Andy had spent most of burning the image of her bottom into his brain. She stretched and moaned a little, her arms, long and pale, reaching past the arm of the sofa as if to grasp an invisible bar. The blanket stayed behind as her flat chest rose past the edge of it, two pink nipples, small as a boy's, briefly on show. Andy felt the trouser snake stir. As she relaxed again, the tiny buds nestled back out of sight. He should have thought to offer her a T-shirt or something last night – He was glad he hadn't though. Kelsey blinked open her eyes.
"Morning K-Kelsey...D-Did you sleep w-well." There was the other reason for Andy's lack of social life – his stammer. It wasn't a real stammer but he was so nervous around girls he couldn't talk to one he fancied without developing the speech impediment.
"Yes..." She stretched out her legs, wiggling her toes – they were like bait on a hook to Andy's hungry eyes. His staring didn't go unnoticed. "Got any coffee?"
"Sure. In the K-Kitchen... H-Help yourself."
Kelsey looked at him meaningfully. "Be a dear and fix it for me. Black. No sugar."
Andy realized what she really wanted: Privacy to get out of the blanket and into her clothes. "Oh... S-sorry...B-Black...N-No Sugar." He looked sheepish as he hurried into the kitchen and filled the kettle with enough noise to assure Kelsey that he was by the sink and, consequently, she had her privacy.
Waiting for the water to boil, Andy could have kicked himself. Why hadn't he set his camera on video mode? Too late now. He heard quiet movement around the living room then the sound of bare feet on the stairs and the click of the bathroom door. He spooned Nescafe into two mugs, whitener and sugar into one and heard the flush of the toilet, the noisy refilling of its cistern drowned out by the whistling of his kettle. When he heard bare feet padding back down the stairs, he carried the two steaming mugs through to his computer.
"C-Coffee?" Andy offered Kelsey a mug as she settled into an old armchair next to his desk, folding her feet under her.
"Thank you, Andy." She smiled reassurance at the clearly shy man as she took the mug, her fingers briefly touching his. She was wearing combat trousers: not the fashionable fakes in khaki nylon or psychedelic camouflage patterns. Kelsey's were the real deal army surplus, baggy on her skinny legs and cinched at the waist – in as much as Kelsey had a waist – with a canvas belt, it's brass buckle dull and in need of polishing. Her t-shirt was definitely not army surplus though. It was plain white but expensive looking, having a satin sheen of man-made fibres and a much more tailored fit than the standard K-mart cotton shirts.
It struck Andy that the whole tomboy thing was Kelsey's way of avoiding comparison with her gorgeous sister. Instead of being always second best "girlie", she was so completely different that you just couldn't compare them – chalk and cheese.
"S-Sorry." He realized he was staring at her and looked away.
"Sorry for what?"
"S-sorry I was s-staring at you. I'm not used to h-having..."
"Girls in the house?" Kelsey finished the sentence for him. He nodded mutely. "Is that why you stutter? Mom says you only do it with girls – stutter I mean."
"Y-yes." He blushed furiously.
"You really need to work on that Andy. Shy guys never get any – except in the movies. You don't want to spend the rest of your life just jacking off by the window do you?" Her tone was sweetly conversational. You'd think she's just asked whether he preferred smooth or crunchy peanut butter.
"I-I..." He was mortified. She knew? Clearly, yes, she knew. She'd just said so.
"You can get arrested for that you know." She still sounded sweet but her eyes had steel in them. She wanted to twist the knife now. "I almost called the cops when I first noticed you peeking in at me."
"Why didn't I call them? Because I wasn't scared of you: Most sex-perverts are scary but you, Andy, you're just pathetic. I figured, why should the cops and all those faggots in prison have all the fun when I could punish you myself. I've spent a lot of time thinking about how to punish you, Andy. Wanna hear some of my ideas?"
Andy had covered his face with his hands. He was panic-stricken. If only she were angry instead of this calm, conversational voice. He couldn't think – couldn't make sense of it.
"First I thought I'd make you jack off in public, at gun point. Would you get off on that though? All those strangers watching you for a change - laughing at your tiny prick? Is it tiny?"
Andy couldn't answer.
"Cat got your tongue? Oh well, I hope it is a tiny one: You don't deserve a proper one. Anyway, that was only my first idea. Then I found out about this gay fetish club downtown and I thought it might be fun to make you my gimp. I'd take you down there every Friday to get your ass reamed. Only thing is, that'd probably be worse than prison so how'd I force you to do it? Problems, problems." She reached forward to put her empty mug on the corner of Andy's desk and took the opportunity to pat his knee reassuringly. "Relax Andy. All this was when I was really mad at you for perving at me. I'm not going to do either of those things for real."
Andy allowed himself to hope. "Y-You're not mad at me anym-more?"
"I didn't say that. I was kinda getting used to ignoring you at the window. I'll be honest with you: I even got a bit of a buzz out of it from time to time. But that was before last night." She looked at him cryptically.
"When I woke up, this room smelled just like our bathroom after my kid brother's been in there too long. D'you know what it means when teenage boys spend too long in the bathroom? It means they're jacking off – probably to porno mags. I could smell it when I woke up: You were jacking off, weren't you?"
Andy couldn't hide his guilt. He was so scared now that tears welled in his eyes. All the remorse and guilt he'd rationalized and suppressed was clamouring to reassert itself.
"Thought so. That's really gross you know? Not to mention disrespectful. What was it that turned you on so much? Tell me." Her tone became imperious, demanding.
"Y-your blanket m-moved... and I c-could see y-your..." Andy's confession stalled. He covered his face again.
"Tell me. You could see what?"
"My ass you mean? Is that what you fantasize about? My ass? Maybe I should make you go to that club after all. See how you like being on the receiving end of a butt fucking. It hurts you know? It's dirty, it's humiliating and it hurts. And you want to do that to me? Man! You need a boyfriend!"
"N-no... I d-didn't mean... I didn't f-fantasize about..."
"Not about butt fucking me?"
Andy nodded mutely.
"Your p-p..." He couldn't say it.
Kelsey stood quickly and paced around the room, thinking. She paused by her hold-all, squatting to rummage in its shadowy interior. Standing with one hand clenched tight, she walked back to where Andy sat by his PC. Christ! She thought he was going to wet himself: he looked so scared.
"Here then." Kelsey thrust a balled up pair of recently worn panties into his hand. "Put them on."
"W-What?" Andy fidgeted with the panties, still warm from her body, desperate to press them to his nose – to inhale the scent of Kelsey's intimate parts. He didn't dare. He was so lost in his own perverse thoughts that he wasn't sure he'd heard right.
"Take off your clothes and put those on. You've been spying on me naked – I want to watch you for a change." Kelsey sat in the armchair making a show of settling herself comfortably for the impending floorshow.
"I-I can't. I d-don't want to." Andy found some small reserves of defiance.
"I didn't want to be spied on. It's not a nice feeling is it? But you don't have any more choice than I had. You'll do it or I'll phone the cops and tell them you tried to rape me. Wanna bet I can convince them?" Kelsey's sweet smile was entirely at odds with her threat.
Andy stood slowly, reaching for the buttons on his polo shirt. He was shaking so much he could barely unfasten them to peel the shirt over his head. His eyes looked pleadingly to Kelsey for pity but found none. He fumbled with his belt and dropped his trousers, forgetting to take off his sneakers first. He was about to sit down again to remove them so he could get his trousers off but Kelsey stopped him.
"Drop those shorts too."
Mutely, hesitantly, he hooked thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and eased them down, doing his best to hide his dick by stooping over to lower his underwear to where his trousers were bunched around his ankles. As he straightened up, his hands covered his crotch.
"Take your hands away. I'll tell you when you can touch yourself and right now I want to see this itsy-bitsy little prick of yours." Kelsey paused a moment, waiting for Andy to obey, then "I said, move those hands, Bitch!" She practically barked at him, pleased with the way he flinched at the pejorative.
Andy dropped his tremulous hands to his sides so fast you'd think his balls had burned him but it was his face, and halfway down his hairless chest, that burned crimson with shame. It was a small dick, shrivelled, limp and small. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to watch his own humiliation but he couldn't close his ears to Kelsey's laughter.
"Oh dear! God was really unkind to you, wasn't he, Andy?... No wonder you've never got laid... You haven't, have you?"
"Poor little Andy with his prick like a cherry stalk and balls like the last two shrivelled cherries in the fruit bowl." Her voice dripped with malicious glee. "Well at least my panties will hold all that in... Put them on... No, wait!" Kelsey spotted the digital camera on his desk and reached for it. Andy made a grab for the camera but too late: Kelsey got there first. Suspicions aroused by Andy's desperate lunge for the desk, Kelsey switched the camera on in review mode. The last picture in the memory appeared. She looked at the image of her cotton-clad ass in close-up then at Andy, naked and trying to cover the fact. "Oh man! You are so going to regret this!" She waved the camera at him, clearly livid with rage. "Get your goddamn hands away from your prick and put those panties on!"
"K-Kelsey. Please!" Andy found his voice, begging her to stop tormenting him. He felt miserable, humiliated and ashamed of himself.
Kelsey didn't appear to hear him. She waited patiently, camera poised, for Andy to put on the panties.
Slowly, realizing he had no choice, Andy stepped into the cotton briefs and drew them on. They were constrictively tight on him and, despite Kelsey's assertion that his below average genitals would fit easily, it proved impossible to decently cover his shame.
Kelsey snapped away with the camera, zooming in and out for close-ups and full – fully identifiable – body shots. Christ! He was pathetic. She ordered him to stroke himself through the fabric like girls do in porno mags. She hoped He'd start to get hard so she could make him jack off for the camera but he was so scared by her threat to cry rape, and by his uncertainty where this was going to end, that instead of getting stiff, his bladder cut loose.
The camera's memory card was full after only two shots of piss running down his leg and soaking into the carpet but two was more than enough. Kelsey flipped open the cover and extracted the memory card.
"Christ! You really are pathetic." Kelsey was scornful. "You can keep the panties." She put down the camera, picked up her bag and walked towards the door. "Keep an eye on the internet, Andy. I'm gonna make you a star!" She waved the memory card to make damned sure he got the message, then left.
Andy collapsed to his knees on the warm, wet carpet and finally burst into tears.
Kelsey went straight to the local internet cafe to email her girlfriend, tell her all about this little adventure and to send her the pictures. Later, on the phone, they laughed about the pathetic needle-dick before getting down to some much needed phone-sex, well away from men's prying eyes.