In college, I made a point of maintaining my status as a campus-wide slut, but that didn’t dominate all of my time. I, of course, still managed to be a good student (it’s hard to be the campus slut after you’ve flunked out, after all), but primarily, I was still as big a geek as I was in high school, and I had a small group of friends that helped me indulge that lifestyle. They were about what you’d expect from a bunch of college geeks, they weren’t in the best shape, they were socially awkward, they turned a special shade of red whenever I’d make a passing reference to my slutty reputation, but they were all too socially awkward to make a pass at me. They’d all steal glances, but to hear them talking about me, I sounded like one of the guys. I was very proud about my ability to keep my geeky life separated from my slutty life.

Usually​.

The de facto “leader” of the group was a guy by the name of Charles. Much to his chagrin, the group called him Charlie. I always called him Chuck. I don’t think I could have gotten away with it if he hadn’t had a huge unspoken crush on me. I had done my best to leave it unspoken, and he was, typically for a guy of his social ability, excellent at hiding it. That was how it stayed for a while, and I was happy to leave it that way. I’d go out on the weekends, fuck other guys, then, once or twice a week, meet up with the guys for some D&D or Magic (don’t worry if you’re uninitiated, this story won’t be a deep, indecipherable dive into geek culture that you’ll need a translator to understand what the hell is going on). It was a great setup.

Senior year complicated things, though. As the end of the year drew closer, our futures were mapping out ahead of us, and they were taking us in drastically different directions, so while we would remain friends on Facebook, we’d text, we might even try to schedule an online session to keep the games running, the odds of us all ending up in the same room together on a regular basis was sitting somewhere between slim and nil. Adding fuel, Chuck’s birthday hit about a month before the end of the school year. I always got him a little something, a book I thought he’d like, a special set of dice, a couple booster packs, but for what was likely to be our last birthday together for quite some time, maybe ever, I had to do something special, and I knew exactly what he wanted.​

His birthday was on a Wednesday. We were scheduled to meet up at 8 in the basement of his dorm for some games, maybe throw around some cards, bring character sheets just in case he decided to run something. It was set to be an easygoing evening. I knocked on his door at 6, wearing an old, comfortable maroon hoodie, a black, knee length skirt and some simple shoes. I did my makeup a bit more than I normally would for an evening with the guys, but not to an outrageous degree. I was not all slutted up, but I had my red lipstick on, I did up my eyeliner, both of which popped against my pale skin, with some lightly applied rouge giving me a little bit of a subtle effect. Enough for Chuck to notice without realizing he was noticing it.. My deep auburn hair was pulled back into a simple pony tail. Fancy dos would have set off alarm bells immediately. I wanted to keep this casual, comfortable. I took a purse with a simple change of clothes in it. I would need it.

I knocked on his door, slightly nervous. Odd, the idea of me being nervous before a sexual encounter, but unlike the vast majority of my experiences to that point, I had a feeling this was going to mean something. Not that sex doesn’t generally have some kind of impact, but something as simple as sex can complicate things so quickly, especially when feelings are already involved. Still, we were a month away from being flung thousands of miles apart, so complications would hopefully be minimal. He answered the door, phone pressed to his ear. When he saw it was me, he casually waved me in, not knowing what I had planned. ​ His room was small. As a senior, he’d gotten first dibs on the limited single rooms on campus, and so he had been given free reign to make his perfect college geek den. Posters were plastered all over the wall, everything from Pink Floyd to Rush, from Magic to Star Wars, he had statues of video game and anime characters scattered around. On the TV, one of the Guitar Hero games was on the pause menu (2008 was a different time, if you were there, you know), waiting for Chuck to come back to it after his phone call. The room, being a typical dorm room, was stuffy and dim, with the only light at the time coming from the TV, with blackout curtains pulled over the windows. Everything about the room screamed “virgin”, and I didn’t know anything that proved to the contrary. Then again, we didn’t make a habit in the group of discussing our romantic or sexual lives. He may very well have had a sex life more legendary than mine.

His phone call didn’t last long, after which he was apologizing profusely, like I wasn’t the one who had interrupted him. I assured him it was alright, with my heart beating out of my chest. I was suddenly very aware that, under the hoodie and skirt, I was absolutely naked. No panties, no bra, no shirt under that zipper, and I was starting to wonder how he was going to react. So I bit the bullet. I sat him down on his bed, stood in front of him and explained the situation.

I liked him. I didn’t LIKE like him, but I liked him. I’d seen him staring at me, I knew how he felt, and I wanted to do something for him for his birthday. With that, I unzipped my hoodie and let it fall open. I didn’t open it wide, I wasn’t on full display, but enough pale white flesh was visible between the deep red fabric to make it abundantly clear that I was naked underneath. Chuck stared at me. The room was deathly quiet. The two loudest sounds in the room were the ticking of his clock and the fan on his Playstation 2. ​ He didn’t make a move. My mind started racing to salvage the situation. The only thing that kept me from blurting out some half assed explanation was the way he kept staring at the stretch of bare skin through the zipper. I stepped forward and took his hand, placing it on my stomach. His skin was cool and clammy against my oven-like skin. I softly asked if I had misread him, if he’d rather I go pick something else to get him for his birthday, and he slowly, sluggishly shook his head, moving his hand of his own free will over my soft skin, first just moving in circles, almost like he couldn’t believe it was real.

Slowly, he moved up, gently brushing up against the underside of my 36C tits, gasping, almost like he’d done something wrong. I didn’t say anything, I just arched my back to silently communicate that I was fine. I was here for his pleasure. Timidly, he cupped my tit, squeezing it gently, experimentally. His fingers were still a bit cool, and drew an involuntary gasp as they brushed against my nipple.

He jerked his hand back, wide eyed, like he’d hurt me. My eyes fluttered a bit, coming back from my brief lapse of awareness. He looked shocked, like he was retreating back into his shell. So, to give him his confidence back, I shrugged off my hoodie, giving him full view of my chest. His eyes glazed over, and I grabbed his hand and returned it to my tit. Almost subconsciously, he started gently squeezing rhythmically. I softly whispered his name, snapping him back to reality.

I quietly told him that we didn’t have to do anything else if he didn’t want to, but I was prepared to do whatever he wanted. I spared a glance down at the crotch of his grey sweatpants, which were showing clear signs of his arousal. He blushed deep red, but leaned back, letting his length strain against the simple fabric. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes locked with him. I grabbed the waist of his pants, and he lifted his ass to let me pull them down, letting his dick wobble in the air. It was on the upper end of average, maybe 6 and a half or 7 inches, with a slight curve in it. He wasn’t incredibly thick, but it was certainly something I could work with.

Throughout college, I’d gained a reputation for, among other things, being a master cock sucker, but I wasn’t about to bring the full brunt of my abilities on this poor guy. I wanted him to have time to enjoy himself. It still wasn’t even 6:30, and no one else would be showing up until 8. I was under no illusions of his ability to hold off for an hour and a half, but I didn’t want him going off in my mouth after 30 seconds, so I settled into a slow pace, a simple up and down action, no hands. I wasn’t trying to get him off, just prime him for action. As I sucked, I unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Chuck didn’t even notice. After a couple minutes of simple, leisurely dick sucking, I let it fall from my mouth with a pop.

Chuck, who had been laying flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling and letting me work, lifted his head to see what caused the interruption as I climbed on the bed, straddling his pelvis. With one hand, I positioned him and stared him in the eye. Whispering, I asked if he was ready. He nodded. I leaned forward, my mouth as close to his ear as I could get it without losing my positioning. I wished him a happy birthday, and impaled myself on his cock, moaning out his intrusion into his ear.

With that sound, I could already feel his cock jump inside me, ready to pop off, so I slowed my movements. When our pelvises met, I settled in and let him get used to the sensation for a bit. I was so focused on letting him have his time that I’d almost blanked out my own sensations after that initial blast of pleasure when he first penetrated me, but as we sat, him buried to the hilt in me, the gradually receding twitches started to stir in me.

I propped myself up. Still pelvis to pelvis, I began to grind easily, slowly stoking the fire inside me and sending a series of heavenly sensations his way, as his face contorted with every move. I giggled and gently kissed his forehead. He seized his opportunity and planted a hand on the back of my head, pulling me in for a full fledged lip lock. As his tongue clumsily probed my mouth, his hips started moving in time with my grinding. I groaned into our kiss as his other hand found my tits, squeezing down as he picked up his pace. His stamina wasn’t limitless, though, and before long, his kisses got stiffer as he was straining with everything he had to not let loose.

I leaned back down to his ear and whispered, pleading for him to cum in me, to fill me up with his hot jizz. That was all it took. It felt like his whole body relaxed under me all at once as his cock spasmed inside of me, sending off shot after shot of wonderfully warm spunk. I moaned out my approval into his ear, causing another delightful twitch as he was dribbling out the last of his load inside me. With that, he was done.

We laid like that for a while. Every time I tried to move, he would wrap his arms around me and grumble. Eventually, though, I had to insist. If my lipstick on his face was any indication, I had a lot of work to do to be presentable by 8 o’clock. I set about cleaning myself up and fixing my makeup and hair in his mirror, all while naked, the last bit of my birthday present to Chuck. He never took his eyes off of me.

Finally, I had to get dressed, taking out the change of clothes that I had brought with me, including a desperately needed bra and pair of panties. He clearly hated to see my nakedness disappear from view, but I convinced him that he needed to do the same. After we had eliminated all sign of what we had just done, Chuck and I sat on his bed. He timidly asked if I wanted to play Guitar Hero. I, of course, accepted, and told him that if he could beat me, I’d give him another kiss.

I may have lost on purpose. It was his birthday, after all.