Date: Fri, 9 Jan 2015 20:18:10 +0000 From: Mr Skinny Subject: Geeks Get Hot - 16-Anthony Disclaimer: The following piece of fiction contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adult males aged over the age of 18. Please do not read further if the subject matter might offend you. If you are aged under 18 (or 21 if that is the law in your state or country) please leave this site without reading further. Patronising things you should read: Fictional characters cannot catch STDs. Real people can and do. The author does not in any way condone or support risky sexual practices or unprotected casual sex, and recommends that all readers respect their bodies and wear a condom in the real world. Note from Author: This part of the story is told by Anthony. To read other chapters from this story, go back to the main `Geeks Get Hot' folder. For updates on this, and other, stories, see my blog: http://skinnysstories.blogspot.co.uk/ Geeks Get Hot (part 16) - Anthony We walked four abreast on the pavement (or "sidewalk", as my American friends would say!), having just got out of the taxi, me, Brad, Charlie and Curtis, on the way to Barbara-Ann's party. It had been a hectic week filled with exams and revision, and this Friday night house party was just what I needed to relax for a night before the cramming and revising began again in readiness for my final two exams. Curtis and Charlie were both dressed in their standard summer dress of shorts and open necked short sleeved shirt. Brad had also opted for shorts on this occasion, a dark blue pair which he had teamed with a grey-blue v-neck tshirt, while I was in my usual tshirt and jeans as I hated exposing my skinny legs to the world. There had been a bit of an embarrassing incident with Brad and I getting cat-called by some arseholes through the window of the car they were driving, but I was determined not to let it spoil my enjoyment of the night. The evening was warm and the smell of barbeques drifted in the air. We arrived at Barbara-Ann's and I suppressed a smile to myself as I noticed a rainbow flag hanging from one of the upstairs windows and fluttering in the breeze. Barbara-Ann answered the door and threw her arms around me. "You came! I am so glad!" She air-kissed my cheeks and then did the same to the other guys. Curtis seemed a little surprised by her eccentricities (he hadn't socialised much with her before). "Come in, come in and help yourselves to a drink." We walked through the hallway and into the kitchen which was loud with the chatter of voices. "Um guys," Curtis said in an undertone. "Do you get the impression the four of us are the only straight people here?" "Certainly looks that way," Charlie replied as we watched two guys leaning against the fridge press against each other flirtatiously. "Not that it's a problem," he added hastily, realising Barbara-Ann was in earshot. She grinned. "I should think not! We don't judge in this house, and everyone is equal regardless of sexuality. You never know Curtis, you may find your dream guy here and switch allegiance!" "I think that's unlikely!" he laughed, knowing she was taking the piss and not serious. "So Anthony said this was a party for one of your friends from back home," Charlie said to Barbara-Ann. "Is it a birthday party?" "No, more a coming-out party. I will introduce you later, but at the moment he is still upstairs. He's shy, apparently." Barbara-Ann rolled her eyes. "Speaking of which, I'd better go check he's alright. Catch you guys later." We said goodbye and, clutching our drinks, walked into the garden where people were standing or sitting on the lawn in small groups talking. "Anthony!" I heard a female voice call, and turning I saw my friends Alice, Christine and Davy from my maths study group sitting together. Davy and Christine were going out together and were sitting next to each other with Christine leaning her head on Davy's shoulder. Evidently I wasn't the only person Barbara-Ann had invited from our Advanced Calculus classes. "Hi guys," I said, going over to them. "I didn't realise you would be here." "We never turn down a good party!" joked Davy, as he bumped fists with me. I introduced everybody to one another and then Brad and I went and got some more drinks and some slices of pizza from the kitchen for everyone while Charlie and Curtis sat down with Alice, Christine and Davy and began to talk. "So how do you know Barbara-Ann?" Davy was saying as we returned with the provisions. "We live on the same floor as Anthony," Curtis replied. "He is more her friend than we are, but we all got invited." "Are you all freshmen then?" Alice asked Curtis. "Mm-hmm," he mumbled in reply, his mouth full of pizza. "Yeah, we're all freshmen. Well, me, Charlie and Brad are anyways. Only for another couple days though. I can't believe this year of school is almost over!" We continued talking and laughing. Although it was growing late, the temperature was still warm. It was nice to be sitting outside in the fresh air with a good group of people. It dawned on me that this evening might be the last one I spent in the States with so many of my friends around me, and I began to feel a little sad about going back to the UK. Not because I didn't want to go home, I loved my home, but because I had made some good friends here, and, realistically, I probably wouldn't ever see some of them again. And that would be a shame, as I really liked all of them, as well as Chris who wasn't here this evening. Brad leaned over towards me. "What are you thinking about?" He asked softly. "You look as if you're daydreaming about something." "Oh nothing," I mumbled, not wanting to seem soft or soppy in front of the group. "Um I just need to nip to the loo." I added, suddenly becoming painfully aware of having a full bladder, the beers I had drunk so far taking their toll. I stood up and walked through the kitchen to the hallway where the downstairs toilet was. The door was locked, and I stood waiting for the person inside to finish, transferring my weight from one leg to the other and trying not to make it too obvious to any onlookers that I was absolutely bursting to go. I heard the toilet flushing and then the running of water. The door eventually unlocked and a thin guy with very blonde hair and copious amounts of freckles across his nose emerged. He smiled shyly at me as he walked past. If I hadn't been so desperate for a piss I would have maybe plucked up the guts to smile back or say hello, but as it was, I just entered the bathroom, locking the door behind me and unzipped, my stream of urine starting almost immediately. I sighed deeply in relief as my bladder emptied. After a good half-minute, my steady stream faded to a trickle. I milked the last few drops of urine from my cock by rolling my foreskin back and forward twice, and then shook off and put myself away, making sure to remember to zip my flies back up. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, drying them on a bright yellow towel that hung next to the sink. There was nobody waiting to use the toilet after me when I unlocked the door, just a couple of people talking in the hallway, leaning against the wall. One of them, tall and thin with short spiky jet black hair turned from speaking to his mate, as if to walk down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, and jostled me with his shoulder as he did so. "Oh, sorry," I said, immediately, English manners taking over and demanding that I offer an instant apology even though it was him who had walked into me. "No problem," he replied, slurring his words ever so slightly. "It was my fault dude! Too many beers I guess!" "Either that or they need to build a wider hallway!" I joked. "Yeah!" he laughed. "Hey, are you English?" "Yes I am." "I thought so," he said moving closer to me. "Cute accent. You know, if you drew a scar just here you could earn a lot of money as a Harry Potter look-a-like," and he brushed back my fringe and ran his finger lightly over my forehead. I shivered inwardly at his touch. I looked up at his face and he was staring back. His eyes were some of the brightest green I'd ever seen and a small jewel sparkled at his right eyebrow. His cheeks and chin were dark with stubble, and now that I looked closer at his hair I noticed it wasn't jet black exactly, but had a navy blue tinge to it when the light was in the right direction. Everything about him screamed "bad boy", you know, the kind of person a mother warns her daughter against dating, but who you automatically feel drawn to because of how wild they seem. And now he was coming on to me! Subtly (well, actually, not that subtly if I could recognise what he was doing!) he was shuffling closer and closer to me as we spoke, his body language flirty, touching me lightly on the shoulder, face, hip, brushing against me accidentally on purpose as he leaned in to hear what I was saying, all the classic signs of interest. But why would he be interested in me?! I was no one special. "You want another beer?" He asked me. "Um okay," I replied, nervously. "Wait here," he instructed, and he walked into the kitchen, returning quickly with two bottles of Budweiser. He passed one to me, his hand brushing against mine and lingering a little too long to have been an accident. He raised his own bottle to his lips and took a long swallow, licking the condensation from around the rim of the bottle once he'd finished and smiling seductively at me as he did so. I could feel my cock twitching in my boxers. I couldn't help it. There was just a sexual vibe about him. "So, what's your name? Or do I just call you Harry, like in the films?!" "A-A-Anthony," I stuttered. "Anthony," he repeated. "Cute name, especially when you pronounce it in your English accent. I'm Dylan." "Nice to meet you." "And it is a real pleasure to meet you Anthony. I find English accents really hot, so you just keep talking." I could feel myself blushing. "Um..." He laughed at my discomfort. Then he leaned in closer. "So, Anthony, I have to ask, are you gay?" I swallowed awkwardly, looking around to check nobody I knew was in earshot, especially not Charlie or Curtis. Seeing no one, I nodded affirmation. "Excellent!" he said, slowly. "Well, given that this is a party Barbara-Ann is hosting, the chances were pretty high that you were, but I had to check." He looked me up and down as he took another deep drink from his beer bottle. I had another sip of my own drink. "So, Anthony, tell me, do you like to fuck?" I involuntarily spluttered, almost choking on my mouthful of beer, and ended up coughing and unable to speak for several seconds. Attractive. (Not). "That's a little forward," I said, eventually. He shrugged. "Well, let's face it, usually fucking some guy afterward is the best bit of most parties!" I laughed, I couldn't help myself. I was also starting to grow hard just from hearing him say "fuck". My horniness levels were off the scale what with the sunny weather, and lack of time to do much wanking what with all the exam revision I was doing. Plus I kept replaying the incredibly hot fuck I'd had with Brad earlier that week in my head and it had me hungry for sex. "So," he continued, "why don't we skip to the fun part of the party and take these drinks upstairs somewhere?" He leaned right in close to me and whispered into my ear. "I never fucked an English guy before and I'd love to try!" I felt conflicted somewhat. My friends were all sitting outside, they would wonder where I had gone. And I had been enjoying myself talking to them. But how often did I get offered this sort of opportunity?! And he was hot, hypnotically so in a dangerous sort of way. The sort of person you looked at and just knew would be amazing in bed. And I was sooo horny! As I hesitated, he frowned. "You don't want to?" he questioned. He moved his hand to the crotch of my jeans and squeezed, my hardening cock responding by growing even more. I think it was fairly obvious to him that I was well on the way to sporting a full erection. "Oh, it feels as if you *do* want to!" he murmured. I chuckled self-consciously and pushed my glasses further up my nose with my index finger. "What are you nervous of then? You have had sex before?" "Yes, yes," I replied hastily. "I'm not a virgin." He gave me an extra squeeze and then reached round and squeezed my arse for good measure. I looked around, panicking slightly. "Relax, nobody's watching," he said. "Why don't we take this somewhere quieter though?" He turned and walked slowly to the bottom of the stairs. He turned and looked at me. I finally made my mind up. My friends wouldn't know where I was or what I was doing. I didn't get the offer of sex often enough to turn one down. Especially with someone I could tell was going to be an amazing fuck. I met his eyes and he turned, confident I would follow. I swallowed the last dregs of my beer and did, climbing the stairs behind him. He had a nice arse himself from this angle, encased in faded black denim jeans. At the top of the stairs he waited, smiling slightly arrogantly. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist," he said. He took my by the hand and led me into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs. It was Barbara-Ann's bedroom, I could tell because the Eva Longoria calendar I'd bought her for Christmas was hanging on the wall just inside the doorway. I stood and surveyed the room. There was a chest of drawers, the top of which was crammed full of make-up and toiletries, colourful clothes screwed up in small piles on the floor around the edge of the room, and a desk with all sorts of books and sheets of paper on it. A big chair sat next to the desk with a large canvas bag on top of it with a white tshirt hanging out of it. A pair of men's jeans was folded neatly over the back of the chair with a black pair of briefs sitting on top. I guessed they probably didn't belong to Barbara-Ann! There was a small cough behind me and I turned to see my new friend lying on the bed. He had kicked his shoes off and discarded his checked shirt, dressed now in just a white sleeveless tshirt (a "wife-beater" I think they called them here!) and his faded black jeans. He lay on his back with one hand tucked behind his head, the black hair beneath his armpit exposed. He rubbed suggestively at his crotch with his other hand. "Are you going to join me then, or are you just going to stare at the decor like some interior designer?!" I sat on the corner of the bed and pulled off my trainers and socks. He moved to sit behind me and ran his hands up the inside of my tshirt, rucking it up around my neck. I turned to face him and he pulled it over my head, dropping it onto the floor, then quickly peeled off his own tshirt too so we were facing each other both topless. His torso was toned with black hair dusted over his pecs and a thick black treasure trail snaking down over his stomach. An inch of underwear bordered the top of his jeans. A thin gold metal bar decorated his right nipple. I looked hungrily at his body and tentatively reached my hands out. He let out a little groan of appreciation as I let my hands explore his chest and stomach, running them through the hair, feeling the tautness of the flesh beneath it. His own hands ran over my thin hairless chest, his thumbs pausing at my nipples and rubbing back and forth, teasing them erect. I mirrored his actions, feeling the cold metal of his nipple piercing underneath my thumb. He grinned at me, "You like it?" I nodded affirmation and leaned in close to use my tongue rather than my thumb. "Mmm, that's it!" He murmured. "I fucking love having my nipples licked!" I ran my hands up and down his slender arms as I flicked my tongue forwards and backwards over his erect nipple. He ran his hand through my short dark brown hair, and then continued its downward journey, tracing down the centre of my back, down the contours of my spine, until it reached the top of my jeans. He shifted his body closer to mine on the bed, his legs going either side of me, our crotches almost touching. His hand pulled my body towards him, and I leaned forwards as he leaned backwards, ending up half-lying on top of him. I could feel the hardness of his cock through his jeans pressing into the side of my leg. I reached down with trembling fingers and began to unbutton him, reaching my hands down into his flies to stroke at the pole in his underwear. He groaned softly at my touch. I gently tickled at the outline of his shaft with my fingertips, feeling his cock respond, moving and twitching in his boxershorts. I withdrew my hand and he pulled his jeans down his legs. He was wearing baggy boxers, the front completely tented out by his cock. I unzipped my own jeans and took them off, feeling a little self-conscious as I sat there in just my tight boxerbriefs. They were one of the pairs Brad had bought me for my Christmas present, black Calvin Kleins with a red waistband. He rested his hand in my lap and my hard dick twitched of its own accord. He leaned in closer to me, his mouth opening, and I jerked my head away, a reflex action. "Oh, you don't want to make out?" He asked me. I shook my head, feeling bashful. His body was so much hotter than mine was. "You seem a little nervous Anthony," he commented. "Why don't you lie down and I'll help relax you." He gestured to the bed and I lay on my stomach. He immediately straddled my legs, sitting just above my knees, and began to massage my shoulders and the top of my back. I felt my nerves disappearing thanks to the rhythm of his hands. "Mmm, you're good at that," I murmured. "Yes, I will probably train to be a sports masseuse when I'm through with college. You're feeling a little more relaxed now?" "Mm-hmm." He shifted his position so he was kneeling right at the base of my legs and began massaging my legs, running his hands up and down my calves and then the backs of my thighs. His hands roamed higher and higher up my legs until he was massaging up and down the top of my inner thigh. Every now and then one of his fingers would accidentally brush the base of my balls through my underwear, sending a shivering tingle running through me. Then, as the brushes against my balls became more frequent, I realised they weren't accidental touches at all. I felt him kneel up and then he began to massage the base of my back again, leaning over me. As he did so, I felt the weighty firmness of his dick brushing gently against the top of my leg. I shivered inwardly, and started gently grinding my own rock hardness into the mattress beneath me. Not big movements, in fact barely moving at all, just enjoying the feeling of pressing against the bed. As if sensing my arousal, he repositioned himself, so his erection was more definitely rubbing against the crease of my arsecheeks as he massaged me. I felt so turned on. I let out a little moan and he chuckled softly. "You like that?!" "Oh yes," I whispered. His hands ran up my back to my shoulders, and then with one hand on either side of my body, he was rolling me over onto my back, my hardon presenting a very noticeable bulge in my boxerbriefs. He grinned hungrily, his own baggy boxer shorts tented right out. He bent his knees, lowering his hips towards my body and causing the bulge of his boxers to rest against my own. I let out a little gasp. His hands went to my chest, and began to gently massage me there, his palms resting over my nipples, his fingers working the sensitive area right next to my armpits. My cock jumped and I could feel myself dripping pre. His hands slowly, seductively, traced their way down my thin body, over my flat stomach, the thumbs running through my treasure trail, to the red waistband of my Calvin Kleins boxerbriefs. He brushed his fingertips lightly up and down the contours of my bulge a few times, making it twitch and push impatiently against its cotton confines, before hooking his thumbs underneath the red waistband and tugging the front of my underwear down. My boner immediately sprang out and his eyes opened wider, his grin also widening in appreciation. "Mmm, uncut," he remarked, giving my cock a few experimental strokes, pulling the foreskin backwards and forwards. I moaned, lying back and enjoying the sensations for a few seconds, before sitting up as far as I could manage, reaching for the tent in his boxers and clutching my hand round the shape of his hard shaft. I squeezed him tightly, making him gasp and let go of my dick. He tugged down his boxers, and I began to wank his hard cut cock immediately as it became exposed to the air. "Oh fuck yes, that's it!" He exclaimed, licking his lips and throwing his head back. "We could use some lube though," he continued a few moments later. "I think I saw some on the dresser when we came in. Hold on." He got off the bed, his hardon bouncing. I discarded both pairs of our boxers on the floor beside the bed and seconds later he was back, holding a bottle of lube in his hand. I held out my palm and he pumped a little into it, dropping the bottle on the bed beside him afterwards. I recommenced wanking him off and he stroked me too, our hands moving franticly. I'm amazed I managed not to cum straight away, he was wanking me so hard and fast. "You'd better slow down," I gasped out eventually. He laughed throatily. "Perhaps you should do something to take my mind off your dick!" I clutched his cock hard in my hand and lowered my head to it, licking around the bellend before going down on him. He groaned. "Mmmm!" He lay back on his back on the bed, bending his knees. I continued sucking him, moving my mouth up and down, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could manage. His cock was about two inches shorter than Brad's, and quite a bit thinner, but no less appealing. The head was long and thin rather than plump, round and juicy like my own and Brad's. I began to deepthroat him and he moaned his appreciation of my skills. "Oh fuck yeah, Anthony! Suck that dick!" I looked up at him over the tops of my glasses and he had half sat up, his hands resting in the small of his back, propped up on his elbows, his eyes closed, obviously enjoying the blowjob I was giving him. My neck was beginning to ache in the position I was in, so I lifted off him, letting my hand take over pleasuring him, no need for lube for the time being as my saliva had made him all nice and slippery. "Mmm," he moaned. Then he reached for my own dick, stroked it a few more times, and then began to suck me, expertly taking me into his warm wet mouth a little at a time, until I felt his nose at my pubes, and the head of my cock being massaged by his throat. "Fuck!" I breathed. "That feels so good!" He slowly raised his mouth off me, leaving his tongue tip resting on my bellend, his warm breath falling on my dickhead each time he exhaled. He licked down my shaft with his talented tongue, then down my taint, and then his tongue tip was snaking its way between my arsecheeks. I felt his hands pulling my cheeks apart, and his breath warm on my pucker seconds before the warmth and wetness of his tongue was licking against my arsehole. I breathed deeply, loving the feeling. He bent my legs at the knees and lifted them up, and began attacking my arse with his mouth, his tongue darting all over and around my hole, finding every sensitive nerve I had and activating them so I tingled with ecstasy. I moaned loudly. "You like that?" He asked me. "Fuck yes, it feels amazing!" I gasped. He grinned hungrily at me, and rolled me over onto my hands and knees. He prised my arsecheeks apart with his hands, and continued to rim me. I lowered my head to the bed, my breathing fast and ragged, and then I felt his tongue penetrate me, and I cried out, it felt so good. He reached round and started wanking me off as he rimmed me. That had me moaning even louder. The taut muscle of his tongue pushed in and out of me, his breath warm on my arsecheeks, his hand squeezing my rock hard cock tightly, moving the foreskin back and forward expertly over my plump leaking head. Just as I thought it could feel no better, he began rotating the palm of his hand around my head as he wanked me, my precum acting as a lubricant and making every movement on my ultra-sensitive head twice as pleasurable. I buried my face in the bedclothes, muffling the squeals I was making, hoping that the noise wasn't reaching the party going on downstairs. "Fuck yeah Anthony, you like that?!" He asked, lifting his mouth off my arse. "Yes! I fucking love it!" I gasped, breathlessly. "Don't stop!" He chuckled throatily, hungrily. I felt his finger tip stroking over my pucker and felt my hole twitching uncontrollably at every movement. I heard a squelching slurping sound like shower gel being squeezed out of an almost empty container, and then I felt his lubed-up dick replacing his finger tip, rubbing between my arsecheeks, his head slicked wet with lube teasing at my hole. I groaned softly feeling his juicy flesh brushing against me, and he echoed my moaning as he wiped the head of his cock first one way and then the other, forwards, backwards, forwards again, teasing himself against my opening and getting me hornier and hornier until I felt I could stand it no longer, I had to have his cock inside me! Evidently he had reached the limits of his own will-power too, as I felt him slowly but definitely begin to add pressure to his movements, his cock going from brushing lightly against me to tickling, to prodding more definitely, to beginning to slip inside. Despite my horned up state, I had enough of my wits about me to realise he hadn't yet put a condom on, and wriggled forwards away from him just as he was about to slide right inside me. "What about protection?" I asked, turning my head to look at him. "What about it?" He shrugged, hunger and lust in his eyes. He positioned himself back at my entrance and I felt the tip of his dick brushing against me again. Oh fuck it felt good! I shook my head, clearing my brain of its lusty thoughts and moved forward again causing his erection to slide down the side of my arsecheek instead of penetrating me. "Hold still Anthony," he commanded, "or don't you want me to fuck you now?" "Oh I do, I really do," I replied. "Just...I want you to wear a condom." He laughed scornfully. "What for? I can't make you pregnant can I?!" He gripped at my hips, turning my body to position me correctly. I remembered how amazing it had felt having Brad inside me bare, and the feeling of him blasting his cum up inside me. It had felt so so good. For a second I almost considered letting him have his way and just slide into me raw. But this wasn't Brad. This was...um...um...? Well, he wasn't Brad. I shook my head and wriggled out of his grip. "If you want to fuck me you have to wear a condom." "Jeez, are you serious?" He asked. "It feels so much better without one. Not just for me either, for both of us..." he wheedled. "With a condom or you don't get to fuck me at all." I resolved, sticking to my guns. "Alright already," he complained. "Well do you have one then?" "Um..." I realised that although I usually carried one in my wallet I had used that one that time when I had fucked Brad and hadn't replaced it. "Actually, no, I don't." "Me either. So it looks like it's bareback, or no fuck at all." He made to penetrate me again and I moved away once more. "No fuck at all then. Sorry mate." "Jeez! Seriously?! Alright, stay there, I think there was a box of rubbers sitting next to the lube on the dresser." I felt him get off the bed and next minute he was back. I heard him scrabbling to open the cardboard box, then the crinkling sound of foil. I looked back and he was rolling a condom down his erection, a scowl on his face. "You had better have a tight ass," he muttered. I ignored his bad mood and pumped some of the lube into my hand, smearing it down the latex covering of his cock. He dropped the box of condoms on the floor beside the bed and I knelt back on all fours in front of him, spreading my cheeks apart with my hands. He guided his erection into me and I gasped out. He immediately started thrusting hard and deep, his hands grasping my hips. "Oh fuck yeah," he moaned. "Fuck yeah. You like that?!" "Mmmmm!" I groaned back. It really did feel amazing having him pounding my arse. His hard cock was working its magic, sending shivers running through me. There was a hungry desperation in his fucking, a speed of thrust that took my breath away. He pulled completely out of me and flipped me onto my back on the bed, plunging back in right to the root of his cock and continued fucking me, holding my ankles, my legs in the air. I moaned and arched my back and moaned some more. Fuck it felt good! I circled my cock with my hand and began wanking myself off but very quickly found myself getting close and had to stop so I didn't cum embarrassingly early. We moaned and groaned together as he fucked me, changing the depth and power of his thrusting every now and again, keeping the feelings fresh and ever-changing, the hungry lust remaining in his eyes. I tensed my arse muscles round him, crying out my approval with every change of speed, clutching at his arse with my hands and pulling him even further into me as he thrusted. "Oh fuck!" I panted. "Fuck yes! Oh fuck! OHHH! FUCK!" We had been fucking for ages now, I had no idea how long for, but every last second had been pleasure-filled. I knew when I first saw him he'd be an awesome shag, and I had been proved right. He pushed deeper and deeper into me, his thrusting becoming frenzied. I sensed he was building up to his orgasm and set back to work wanking my own cock, feeling my balls tightening and my arse squeezing tighter around him. I screamed as my cock erupted, covering my torso in cum, and two shots hitting him in the chest as he leaned over me fucking me harder and deeper than I had ever imagined possible. He gave an extra-loud moan and pushed into me, pausing slightly, his thrusting halted, his body shuddering as he came. I felt the root of his cock spasming as it pumped out his load. He closed his eyes and rocked gently back and forth in me, gasping, almost unable to catch his breath, letting my tight arse milk his dick dry. "FUCK! YEAH!" He exclaimed finally. I felt his whole body relaxing, and then he pulled out of me, a suctioning pop being emitted as the end of the condom came out. "That was amazing!" I gasped, still basking in the afterglow of my own orgasm. "Yeah," he agreed, noncommittally. He threw me over a blue towel that was hanging over the back of the desk chair to mop the cum off my body while he disposed of the condom. "Who's Brad?" He asked me casually as he stepped into his boxers and pulled them up. "What?" I replied quickly, my heart beating a little faster. "Who's Brad?" "Um...why?" "When you came, you called me Brad. I just was curious to know who he was." He continued to get dressed, picking his clothes up off the floor. I sat in silence wondering what to say. He buttoned his shirt up. "You don't have to say dude, could be an ex, a crush, your boyfriend back in England, it's none of my business really. No need to get embarrassed. In the heat of the moment we can't control what we say sometimes, and I guess you don't remember my name?" I thought hard, and to my shame, I couldn't. "No sweat dude," he laughed reading on my face that I couldn't, "it was just a hookup, nothing serious. And it was a good one," he continued, "even if you did make me wear a rubber. I don't know whether you are still in the closet or not, but if you are, you ought to get out of it and fuck around a bit more. Depriving the gay community of that juicy ass of yours could be considered a crime!" He reached over, slid his hand beneath me and squeezed it. "Yes, it was a pleasant surprise you were such a good fuck," he added, "I wasn't expecting you to be if I'm honest, you don't look as if you are going to be." Well that's a back-handed compliment if ever I heard one! "To tell the truth, I only wanted to fuck you because I had never fucked a geek before. Or an English guy. Now, thanks to you, I've fucked both! Well, I had better get back to my crew now. Thanks for the fuck Anthony. See, I remember your name even if you don't remember mine!" And with a last flirty grin, he was gone. I sat on the bed a while longer, feeling slightly ashamed. Who was I turning into?! The sort of guy who goes to bed with a complete stranger within five minutes of meeting them?! I smoothed the bedclothes on the bed back into place and carefully put the tube of lube back on the corner of the desk where um...he had got it from. Then sat back on the bed, my brain still whirring. But then, I don't get the chance to have sex very often. This time last year I was sitting on my bed at uni berating myself for not having had enough (well, ok, any) sex yet, now I was having sex I was beating myself up because it was of the causal one-night stand variety. Well what was wrong with that?! Sex is fun, I had learned that for sure. Sex is fun and I liked it. And I wanted more of it, much more of it. As long as I was careful and insisted on using protection every time, did it really matter who I was having sex with as long as I enjoyed it?! Why was I feeling ashamed? I had nothing to be ashamed about! I'm male, men enjoy sex. My friends were always talking about sex, who they had been with, who they'd like to shag if they ever got the chance, how many one-night stands they'd had. They wouldn't begrudge me a little fun at a party for fuck's sake. Especially not in my final week in the States right at the end of all my exams. It was like celebrating the end of the year and the end of my time here. I had been fucked by a real bad-boy hottie and enjoyed it. Full stop. The end. Period (as my American friends would say). Even so, I didn't want to do the walk of shame just yet.