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My 'archive' of stories are of the
sexy nature. If you are under age
or don't wish to read erotica, then
please read no further. Thanks!
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Archive-name: geek2.txt
Authous name: (Basehead)
Story Title : "Geek Sex II"
A N O T H E R K A T H Y S T O R Y
Geek Sex 2
--------------------------------------------------------
FINAL WARNING: This story is meant for consenting adults
only. If you are not one, delete this file now please.
------------- -------------------- -------------------
After my glorious two minutes with Kathy, I was
filled with high hopes for the future. Little did I know
what was in store for me. I arrived home that day to
find my Internet account deactivated, just because I
hadn't paid the service provider in the last four
months. I mean, come on, my taxes paid for the Internet
in the first place, I shouldn't have to pay to use it.
Well, OK, if I had a job, or lived in a state with a
sales tax, then my tax money would have paid for it. But
somebody's tax dollars did, so I should be allowed on
free.
At school and on the bus, I tried to approach
Kathy several times and arrange a repeat of our breath-
taking copulation on the floor of the computer lab. She
spurned me, though, called me a dork in front of her
friends and laughed until I bowed my head and walked
away. She soon found someone else to relieve her sexual
frustrations with. He was tall and always clad in lea-
ther and 256-eye Doc Martens. His face had more pierc-
ings then I had fingers. He was the lead singer for a
local techno-industrial-trance-goth-post-punk-with-a-
pop-sensibility group called Penis Crust. He was a
sensitive artist, and he showed it by repeatedly kick-
ing my ass after school until I left Kathy alone.
Desperate lonely, I started calling local bul-
letin board systems to relieve my boredom. A cheap and
incredibly time-consuming hobby. I joined a local ANSi
group called MAKROEZ of DISTRUKSION and weaseled a few
Sysops into letting me be a Remote. I was soon enthral-
led by a world of MAKROEZ and WAR SUBZ and WAREZ, a
world where having no social life was a badge of pride.
That was how I met "George Stark". He ran a BBS
called Digital Underground. I saw an entry for it in a
BBS list and called in the hopes that the "underground"
in the name meant WAREZ in the x-fers. I logged in as a
new user and had just entered my age and gender when the
Sysop (George Stark) broke into chat. We chatted for a
bit, then I broke the big question: "DO U HAVE ANE
WAREZ?" He told me he didn't allow any on the BBS, but
that if I came to his house he'd let me copy some of
his best stuff. I readily agreed. Anything for WAREZ!
George Stark lived in a scuzzy neighborhood in
the city. The next day I hopped a couple of buses and
walked a few blocks to his apartment. It was on the
ground floor. I knocked, and a few seconds later a mid-
dle-aged, balding, somewhat-overweight white male opened
the door. He chuckled. "Psycho Clam, I presume?"
"Ummm, yeah, well, my real name is Pete."
"Heh. Call me George."
His apartment was a sty. It looked a lot like my
room, only spread out over an entire one-bedroom apart-
ment with a kitchen and bath. Soiled clothing was strewn
about the floor. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. On
the kitchen counter, ants battled over a lump of white
sugar. The walls were bare; the only furniture was a TV,
small couch, and a mattress.
We made our way into the bedroom, all the while
gossiping about users and talking shop about BBS soft-
ware. It was obvious that no one slept here. The room
was filled with sparkling computer equipment. Three
'486s, it looked like, each with its own phone line.
The closet was packed with used drives, keyboards, and
cables.
George sat down in front of the middle computer.
I stood behind him, watching the monitor. "I've got a
gig of software on here. What exactly were you interes-
ted in?"
"Ummm...I dunno. WAREZ."
He chuckled. "Well, what kinds of WAREZ?"
"Ummm...any kind, I guess."
"Well...what kinds do you enjoy the most? Or use
the most?"
"Ummm...I usually just save them to floppy and
upload them to improve my ratio."
"Ahhh. I see. " He changed the subject. "Have
you seen the new series of Bunny .GIFs? Quite interest-
ing."
"Well, no. I had the first two series when I
still had my Internet account. No decent porn BBS will
give me access because of my age, but no one cares on
Internet. What's Bunny up to now-a-days?"
"I'll show you." And boy, did he. We watched
Bunny fucking one guy, Bunny fucking two guys, Bunny
fucking herself, Bunny fucking any of a number of other
women, Bunny fucking a horse, Bunny fucking a pregnant
hermaphrodite. In spite of the weird stuff, I found
myself getting aroused. George's breathing was heavy
and ragged.
"Ever seen the...Little Justin series?"
"Ummm, no."
He chuckled again, a low, throaty chuckle that
made me vaguely nervous. "Here we go." Little Justin was
a 12 or 13 year old boy with shaggy brown hair. His
braces were nearly always visible due to his huge, dumb
smile. I dunno how he managed that smile while being
fucked up the ass by hairy, older guys, or giving one
of his patented rim-jobs. But he managed. I was wonder-
ing if Kathy was into this sort of thing when I felt
hands at my zipper.
"Huuuh? What the hell?"
"Shhh." George yanked out my still-hard dick and
deep-throated it in one swift motion. My words of pro-
test were cut off by the feel of his tongue darting
around my ridge of circumcision.
"Oh...ummm...I...'m...not...really into this..."
He ignored me and continued to give me an amaz-
ing blow-job. I moaned, not really wanting to enjoy my-
self, but doing so all the same. His mouth and tongue
were much more pleasurable then Kathy's soppy fishy huge
cunt. Kathy...I started to moan and thrust my hips. I
pictured her in my mind, decked out in flannel, listen-
ing to Offspring in her room, dying her hair and getting
yelled at by her parents for it, piercing her clitoris..
a million Kathy's in a million situations flashed
through my mind. Before I knew it I was yelling, scream-
ing, and cumming. George milked me for every last drop
and left the room for a drink of water.
"Shit...shit...what the hell? What have I done?"
I muttered as I pulled up my pants. I grabbed my coat
and the box of blank floppies I had brought with me.
Suddenly George appeared in the doorway.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with
a playful look in his eyes.
"Ummm...dad'll yell if I come home late."
"Let's pretend I'm your daddy, OK?"
"NO! Look, I really have to go."
He walked towards me. "And I really have to
cum."
"Well...I saw some hand lotion in the bathroom.
Go to it."
He chuckled, and said in a pseudo-sexy voice
that chilled me to the bone, "Your anal cherry is mine,
boy."
That cut it. I freaked and gave him a solid kick
in his crotch. He moaned and dropped to his knees. "I'm
not...into... S&M..." he panted. I ran for my life, out
of the room, out of the apartment, and down to the bus
stop.
*
I walked the streets for hours, thinking. My
emotions ran the spectrum from mind-numbing shame to a
guilty enjoyment of what had happened.
I gave a floppy disk to everyone who asked me
for change, then tossed the empty box away. A group of
Kathy's friends walked by. As I rounded the corner I
faintly heard one of them say "Yeah, that's the dork
who..."
As I boarded the bus for home I took comfort in
the thought that I still had until age 18 to hit my sex-
ual prime.
Basehead (basehead@teleport.com),
\\\//
January 1995 -(@ @)-
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