Nerd or Not

By Iain Robertson

Published on Apr 21, 2002

Gay

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Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com.

Nerd or Not

Iainlthr@hotmail.com

For some reason that had escaped me, I seemed to be the `golden-haired boy' at the firm where I worked.

Sure, I had been blessed with good looks, which I maintained by working out at the gym regularly, and modesty aside, I did seem to have the kind of personality that allowed me to mix easily in almost any crowd. But I still had difficulty understanding why I seemed to be the most popular guy at work. I could chat easily with secretaries and managers alike, and did more than my share of flirting or being flirted with. Still, who was I to question my good fortune? I had a job I enjoyed and which paid well, and being in my late 20's and single, there was no shortage of offers of a more intimate nature, from female colleagues, and even a few of my male co-workers. I made no secret of the fact that I was gay, but many of the younger women seemed to consider my lack of sexual interest in them merely a challenge to be overcome.

Don't get me wrong! I worked hard as well, and earned my salary. I simply liked my job and the people I worked with, which made the working week something to look forward to rather than dread.

The one exception to my ability to be friends with everyone was the guy who occupied the work station next to mine. Leon. To the vast majority of our co-workers he was `The Nerd". I had always hated that expression and refused to use it, but I had to confess that he never seemed to fit in at all. His clothes seemed too big for him, yet he was hardly a small man. About 30 I guessed (I had never been able to confirm his exact age), he was around 6 feet tall, but tended to stoop when he walked or sat so that he appeared shorter. He wasn't skinny, as far as I could tell, but he wore coats and pants that were oversized, and always not quite in style. The glasses permanently perched on his nose appeared to me to be anything but the thick bottle-bottoms you expect a nerd to wear, but the frames were all wrong for him, made him look almost lost behind them. He had a full head of black hair, which was never quite tidy or fashionable. He refused to join in the gossip and small talk of the office -- not that I could blame him for that -- and rarely spoke at all unless it was necessary for work purposes.

I had, at different times, tried to draw him into conversation, or to get him to join some of us for after-work drinks, but always in vain. It wasn't that I particularly wanted to get to know him, just that I disliked seeing anyone isolated, and I guess subconsciously I felt sorry for him.

Sally, one of the more boisterous of my colleagues, would often berate me when I tried to get Leon to join in. "Oh John, what do you want to talk to him for? He's boring, just a nerd. No one wants to socialize with him."

"Maybe they would if they got to know him." Was my standard reply, but I couldn't convince the others, and Leon would refuse, politely but firmly, every time I offered.

Outside of working hours, I enjoyed myself. I was young, single and gay and there were plenty of opportunities for partying and no shortage of potential partners, although `Mr Right' hadn't put in an appearance yet. Not that I was looking -- life was fun, and it was only on rare occasions that I felt the need for someone special to share my life with.

It was Friday afternoon, and time was obviously weighing on the minds of a few people around me. I was trying to finish off a set of figures so that I could leave with a clear conscience for the weekend, when Sally sashayed past my workstation. Throwing herself across my desk with a greatly exaggerated flourish, she was impossible to ignore. I looked up at her in exasperation.

"What is it, Sally?"

"Are you coming out for drinks and dinner after work tonight, John?" she asked, trying to look innocent.

"I'll come for a couple of drinks, but not dinner. I have other plans for later this evening. And I won't be going for drinks if I don't get these figures finished either!" I added, to make the point that she was interrupting me.

"What other plans?" She demanded, not taking the hint.

"I'm just going out and about. You never know, I may just find the love of my life!" I smiled at her.

"Oh yeah, and who would that be?"

"I don't know ... six foot something, tall, dark and handsome, ... and GREAT in bed!" I got the shock value I was hoping for, and the pseudo indignant look I expected, before she took off to chat with one of the others. As I re-tidied my desk and set about finishing what I was working on, I looked up, catching Leon's eye as I did. "I honestly don't know how she manages to get her work done," I whispered conspiratorially to him. He simply shrugged and went back to his task.

I managed to complete the figures (there wasn't that much more to do anyway), and as 5.00 o'clock rolled around I could see Sally and a few of the others preparing to go. I leaned over to Leon as I started packing up. "Why don't you join us Leon? Have a drink, relax after the week."

"No, thank you." his usual response.

"C'mon. Unless you have other plans, of course. You'd be very welcome with us, you know. Get to know people away from the office and all."

He actually looked up then. "That's very nice of you, but I doubt the others would agree."

"Oh, they're just talk, that's all. Once they get to know you, I'm sure they'll be good friends."

"Yet you don't know me any better than they, and you treat me far better anyway. No, thank you for the offer, but not this evening." He said with a finality. I puzzled over the comment about the way I treated him for a second, then dismissed it. As the crowd descended I told them I'd catch them up, and left my things on my desk, making for the bathroom quickly.

When I returned to my desk a few minutes later, Leon had gone, and the place was all but deserted. I grabbed my coat and case, then noticed a piece of paper on my chair. In careful rounded hand printing I read `if you want a really good night try this place around 11.30', and an address I didn't recognise in Surry Hills. I looked at it puzzled, then looked around. No one was near, and there was no indication as to who had left it. One of the girls, I guessed, some kind of a joke. But rather than throwing it away, I folded it and put it into my pocket, before racing out to meet the crowd at a bar across the street.

My inquiries with the colleagues who had stayed for drinks about the note met with blank faces. All denied any knowledge, and from their reaction I honestly believed it had not come from any of them. Who then? I pushed it to the back of my mind, but checked that the note itself was safely tucked away.

I finally managed to extricate myself from the crowd and head home about 7.00. Grabbing a quick bite to eat, I quickly shucked off my work clothes and dived under the shower to wash away the grime of the working week. As I folded my pants to put them away, the note slipped from my pocket. I read it again and again, trying to find more meaning in the few words. I dressed as I thought about it, pulling on a pair of tight, faded denim jeans, my favourite black T-shirt, and a leather jacket. I looked good and I knew it. Glancing at my watch I realised it was almost 8.30. Still early! I headed for one of my usual watering holes, hoping to catch up with a few acquaintances and have a drink or two. I shoved the note into my pocket as I left.

Over the next couple of hours my night went pretty well as expected. A few drinks, a dance or two, a quick flirt which was never going to result in anything. As 11.00 pm rolled around, my mind kept going back to the note. Who wrote it?, and why leave it for me? If I left right now I could make the given address in time. My curiosity, combined with a bit of alcohol, took over. What the hell? I thought, and headed off.

When I found the place it appeared from outside to be a small club, but one I'd never heard of. There was music, subdued but audible, from inside, and a sign advertising beer, but no name board. I pushed the door open and stepped through. Dim light and the throbbing beat of the music. Quite a few people there and then I realised they were all men, and the overwhelming majority of them were wearing leather. Shining, tight, body gripping, black leather. I wasn't concerned as such, but had never been into the full leather scene. Don't get me wrong, I liked -- no, loved -- the look of leather on a hot bod. I had just not been drawn to the sub-culture that leather men seemed to weave around themselves.

Slowly, I made my way to the bar, ordered a drink, and stood there surveying the crowd, wondering what I should do next. I was at the place on the note, and it was just on 11.30. Who had written the message, and would he (I assumed it was a `he' in this place) explain why he had left it for me?

As I sipped my drink, I took my time to look around. The feeling of discomfort at being in a new place dissipated as I began to enjoy the sights around me. I happily ogled the bodies of the men who were there, perched and geared out in leather, obviously intending to be admired. I found myself becoming quite turned on by the sight of men in leather pants that fit snugly around them, hugging arses and groins. The sight of well built guys in polished black leather chaps, some with harnesses of leather straps encasing their upper bodies, had my cock throbbing and beginning to swell. I realised with a touch of surprise that instead of finding the scene' intimidating, I was thoroughly enjoying the hot raw barely hidden sexuality of the place. It was so ... so masculine'. And it was turning me on.

I finished my drink, and then another, and was well onto a third when it occurred to me that I had been there for over an hour. The note had obviously been a hoax, someone's idea of a prank, but I wasn't upset. I was having a great time admiring the hot men and their hotter leather in this new place. I might even have to look into getting some leather gear of my own and making this a regular stop. With the alcohol helping to reduce some of my inhibitions, I began to actively cruise a couple of the patrons nearby. Striking up a conversation with one particular guy in a pair of black chaps over denim jeans, and a leather vest worn over his bare chest, I was really into the place by now. Standing so close to him, I could smell the leather he wore, mixing with the musky aroma of men. I was about to suggest that we leave together when he suddenly looked away from me toward the door.

I turned to follow his glance, and saw the most incredible sight. A tall, powerful man had entered the bar. He was in full leather regalia and few patrons could keep their eyes from him. His broad square shoulders were bare save that they supported the straps of a leather harness which enveloped his perfectly defined pecs and wrapped around the narrowing six pack of his abdomen. He wore a cap on his head with the visor shining and pulled low over his eyes, which were hidden behind mirrored glasses, partly concealing a square jaw and ruggedly handsome face. A silver ring pierced each nipple and his forearms were adorned with leather gauntlets set with metal studs. From an impossibly narrow waist muscled legs stretched to the floor, encased in the tightest shining black leather chaps that ended in square toed black boots with silver chains and rings. But attention centred naturally on his crotch. Beneath the chaps he wore no jeans or pants, but the tightest pouch of polished black leather. It appeared to have been sprayed onto him, and the outline of his long penis and large rounded testicles was clearly visible as the leather clung to them like paint. The semi circles of his arse cheeks were round and firm, tanned nicely to the same shade as the rest of his skin, and framed to perfection by the chaps.

"Wow!" I breathed out. My new companion smiled and agreed with me.

"Oh yeah! He comes in here every so often, and gets the same reaction every time. Hardly speaks though, and I don't remember ever seeing him leave with anyone. The regulars call him `Jay', although I have no idea if that's his name or not."

As we stared, along with the rest of the bar, Jay stood with his arms crossed and his legs apart, checking out the place. Standing like that emphasised his incredible body and showed off his assets even better. He could have had anyone in the place with the beckoning of his little finger, and there were more than a few hardening bulging groins around the room. I turned to the bar to pick up my drink, and my new friend hissed quickly, "hey, he's coming this way."

When I looked back he was indeed walking in our direction. Purposefully, with an air of authority to him which I found incredibly erotic. As he got closer to us, Tim, my new friend, looked to him anxiously. "Hi, how's it goin'?" he said to Jay's face. Jay said nothing, simply nodded his head at Tim and sidled up to the bar, ordering a drink for himself quietly.

I tried to get Tim's attention again, to resume where we had left off, but his concentration was focussed on Jay, and nothing I could say or do helped. So much for that possibility, I thought to myself. Backing off a little, I retreated further down the bar and settled myself down to admire Jay's stunning body and beautiful leather which was contributing to the discomfort in my jeans, but well worth it for the view. Tim continued to try to engage Jay in conversation, although I couldn't hear what was said. Eventually Jay leaned to Tim and made some reply, but the result was that Tim turned away with a disappointed look on his face and made for the other side of the room. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy, I thought wryly. I looked away for a second, registering that my glass was empty, and beckoned to the barman to get his attention.

As he took my order and went to get the drink, Jay motioned to the barman and spoke quietly to him. The barman looked up, apparently surprised, and then looked at me before moving to the serving area. When he returned with my drink, he refused my money, leaning across the bar and saying quietly "The gentlemen up there has paid for your drink, and asks if you would like to join him." He motioned towards the leather clad hunk I had been staring at for some time. I swallowed my amazement, turned to Jay and nodded my thanks, took a sip of my drink and casually as I could manage (with my stomach churning and my cock throbbing) sauntered in his direction.

As I approached him, I smiled and nodded again. "Thank you" I said, conscious that most of the eyes in the bar were watching me.

The vision in shining black nodded back. "You're welcome." A deep, resonant voice, full of strength and power yet somehow vaguely familiar. "First time in this place?" I nodded. His speech was quiet but assured, masculine. "You look a little out of your depth, but some decent leathers could fix that I'm sure."

I looked him up and down. From this proximity he was even more handsome, a real stunner. I couldn't make out his features because of the glasses he wore, but the rest of him was pure hunk. And that sense that I had heard the voice somewhere before returned. Finally I managed to make my tongue work. "Thanks. I was just thinking a while ago that I might need to buy myself some gear. Never been in here before, but I like it."

"I have some stuff that would fit you perfectly. Would you like to come with me and try it?"

My heart skipped a beat. Would I what? Oh yeah, but I didn't know this guy, and you always have to be careful. He must have read my thoughts.

"Check with Garry behind the bar if you like -- he knows me." I blushed at being so easily read, and threw caution to the wind.

"Okay, you're on. I'd love to try some hot leather gear on, and if you're the one offering, then I'm flattered as well." He smiled at that, a small lifting of his mouth, before his serious face returned. He asked if I had transport and when I said no, he offered to pillion me on his bike. As we left I saw envious faces watch our departure, and a thrill ran through me. And once again, that feeling that I knew his voice from somewhere, but I was sure that I would never have forgotten a man like this if we had ever met.

It was only a short ride to his home, but I enjoyed it immensely, with my arms wrapped around his torso, using the excuse of holding on to feel the strength of his body. He lived in a quiet street and the house was beautifully decorated with tasteful furniture. It spoke of quiet confidence and a certain degree of wealth. Inside, he remained dressed as he was, and his mirrored glasses and low visored cap continued to obscure his face. Yet he chatted easily enough, answering my questions. He lived alone, worked out at a local gym, rarely took men he met at the bars back to his home. It occurred to me that he didn't seem at all curious about me, not asking any questions other than offers of a drink etc.

After about half an hour, he stood again and faced me squarely, adopting the stance I had marvelled at in the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, his legs apart. The vision of him in the tight, shining leather was so horny my cock jumped to attention within my jeans despite all attempts to contain myself. "Now, do you want to try that gear?" he asked quietly.

My voice deserted me again, and I just nodded eagerly. He ushered me into a small room and threw the light switch, and I gasped. The room was black. Black, and warm, and incredible. A sling hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room. Shelves around the walls displayed toys of all kinds -- dildos, butt plugs, balls. An open clothes rack bent under the weight of seven or eight full outfits of leather, chaps, harnesses, vests, jackets, caps, while below the rack half a dozen pairs of boots were lined up neatly. Jay led me into the room, and selected several things for me. "These should fit perfectly!" he stated, handing them to me. I looked around for somewhere to change, and he actually laughed. "If you're shy, I'll wait outside ..." he said, and I realised the foolishness of my thoughts. Quickly I stripped, and of course my erection sprang into full view, giving away my true feelings. Jay nodded approvingly. "Nice!" was all he said, but it made my cock jump and swell even further.

With his help I `leathered up'. A soft pouch of clinging black leather over my genitals which did nothing but increase my excitement, it felt so good. Then a pair of shimmering polished chaps, so tight that I had to struggle to do them up, but which gripped at my legs and held me wonderfully. Wide bands of leather forming a full harness wrapped around my upper body. They draped over my shoulders and around my waist, they skirted my ribs and pushed up under my chest, the texture of the leather, and the smell it gave off sending shivers of anticipation through me. Leather arm bands around my biceps and a pair of solid but comfortable boots, polished to a sheen, completed my makeover.

Jay stood back and appraised my new look. He whistled softly, approving. Turning the light up a little, he swung me around to face a full length mirror on one wall. When I saw my reflection I was stunned. I had been totally transformed. The image in the glass was that of a hot, horny leather man, strong and confident, the dark hide shining against the light colour of my skin. I swore I could actually feel the self confidence flowing into me as I stared at myself fully outfitted in the fantastic gear. I looked from my own reflection to that of Jay, and smiled a huge grin. "Thank you, thank you so much. This looks, feels, so hot. I have to get some of my own."

I turned to face him directly, and his arms reached out for me. He found absolutely no resistance as he pulled me to him, our bodies grinding together. I felt the solidity of his cock press against my own through the layers of leather, smelled the heady scent of leather between us. The squeaking noise as our leathers rubbed was sweet music. I surrendered to his touch, let his hands explore my body, as I did the same to him. My fingers ran across his back and down around his butt, feeling the lines of his chaps. I traced my touch back to his chest, pulling gently on the piercings in his tits before sliding down the leather harness straps to squeeze tentatively at the tube of man meat throbbing and pushing against the leather pouch he wore. My breathing grew short, and I heard him moan softly with pleasure at my touch.

"Jay ..." I whispered. He stopped at that, and stepped back. I looked at him, concerned. "What's wrong?" I asked softly.

"My name isn't Jay." He said simply.

"I'm sorry. Truly I am. That was what the guy in the bar said you were called. I ..." I stopped, unsure of what else I could say.

"Do you like this ..." he waved his hand around to include the room, the gear, and himself.

"Oh yes! Very much indeed." I said, my enthusiasm obvious. "Can I ask, why me? I got the impression at the bar that you didn't take people home."

"I like to know people first. Like to be sure of their real intentions."

I started to protest that he had made his offer to me after a matter of minutes, and with no discussion at all, but he cut me off, and I looked at him again.

"John, you are one of the few really decent people I have ever met. You try to find something good in everyone, even when others oppose you."

I began to smile, wondering how he could think he knew that of me, when I realised I had not told him my name. He hadn't asked, and I hadn't thought to say. Suddenly I became concerned. "How do you know me that well? How do you know my name? Have we met before? Your voice sounds familiar."

"So you really don't recognise me?" he asked, seeming surprised.

"No."

For the first time he removed his glasses and then his cap, so that I saw his face and head. Still, there was no flash of recognition, but he was remarkably familiar. I looked at him closely, carefully, but shook my head. "Your face is familiar, but I just can't place you."

He laughed out loud at that, and left the room, as I stood there trying to place the face and the voice. He was back quickly, and wearing a pair of large, ungainly spectacles. He stooped over and said simply "Hi, John".

My mouth opened, but no words would come. My eyes wide with amazement told him I knew, and he removed the glasses and stood up straight again. I gasped, spluttered, felt as though I had lost control. Finally I hissed out -- "Leon?"

"Uh huh"

"But it can't be. I mean, you're so completely different. So ... so ..." I was truly lost for words.

"I hate the usual crap and pretense that goes on in offices. I have no reason to want to mix with those people, so I make myself the Nerd. Yes, I know that's what they call me. But I'm happy about that. If I'm a nerd they won't keep trying to pry into my life. But you're different. You didn't want to pry, but you wanted to make me feel comfortable, happy. That's why I left you the note."

The note! Of course. I'd forgotten about it, but now it all made sense. "If I'd have known you, seen you, like this before, I would have done a lot more work at getting you to join in." I told him, honestly.

"Yes, but now I know that you can be friendly and helpful even to someone you don't find attractive. That means a lot to me."

"Leon ..." I started, then stopped again. "I really would like to take this ... (I indicated the room, the clothing, us) ... a lot further. I just have trouble reconciling the work `you' with the gorgeous man standing in front of me."

He laughed again. "Easy enough. I'll be Jay here, and Leon at work. How does that sound?"

"Perfect!" I said, laughing with him. As our mirth subsided, we looked again into each other's face, and a more serious feeling resumed. Leon, no Jay (I reminded myself) looked at me and spoke quietly.

"John, you really look so hot in that leather. You have a fantastic body, and I would very much like to `get to know you' a lot better."

"Me?" I smiled at him. "You're the hunk of my dreams. A fantasy come to life, and one I didn't even know I had until your note made me go to that bar."

We crashed against each other again, holding and feeling, and this time our mouths met, and we kissed, long and passionate as I enjoyed this beautiful man I was with, and felt my animal passions rise in his arms. "Jay, " I said, breaking our kiss. "put the mirrored glasses and cap back on. They make you look so hot."

He happily obliged, posing for my admiring gaze. I looked past him, to the sling hanging in the centre of the room. Pointing to it I began softly "You know, I've never been in one of those ..."

"Your wish is my command!" he grinned mischievously, and led me to the platform of leather supported by chains at each corner. Backing up to it, I lay back as he helped, letting the sling mold itself to my body. Jay lifted my feet, placing the boots into the stirrups suspended from the supports, and stood back to look at me. I tingled under his gaze, felt the surge of anticipation rise. He leaned into me, his hands covering my body and sending electric shocks of pleasure through me.

Without speaking, I swung back at him, and he knew what I wanted. Freeing his massive cock from the pouch which held it, he slipped the leather of my thong away from my arse. He smeared a generous helping of lubricant over himself before applying more to my waiting, puckering hole, and pressed against me, the tip of his prick nudging against my sphincter. "Yes" I said. Just the one word but that was all he needed. I willed myself to relax as he inched forward, and his long powerful weapon began its invasion. The sensation as he entered me was incredible, and the initial pain quickly disappeared, replaced by unimaginable pleasure as the full length of his masculinity was swallowed up by my body.

He began to fuck me slowly, taking his time, trying to be careful, but I urged him on. I begged him for more and gripped at him with my arse as he thrust forward. Soon he was pumping himself into me, pounding his body against mine and ramming his fleshy sword deeper and deeper into me. With every shove shockwaves of delight ripped through me and my entire body tingled with the thrill of being fucked by the leather god at my rear. I hissed, gasped and rutted against him, and he shook with urgency as he fought to fill my arse with his maleness. As the tide of passion grew we sweated and swore together, and crashed over the edge in a blinding rocking climax as I pumped wad after wad of cum into the space between us, and he emptied load upon load of his essence into my waiting cavern.

We collapsed against each other. It had been the most intense, incredible orgasm I had ever known.

"Jay, I want to repeat that, often" I grinned.

He smiled back. "Well you'll have to, especially if you're going to leave your leathers here, so we can dress together." His eyes sparkled, and my heart melted. I had found my man.

The next week at work, Sally grilled me. "So where did you get to? Who did you meet?"

I grinned at her, and said "I've found the perfect man, his name is Jay, and I am so happy I can't begin to tell you, so I won't!" As she stormed off, I saw Leon smile for the first time ever in that office.

The End

Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com

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