I love geeks. I have a real thing for them. By “geeks” I mean intelligent, usually socially awkward, techno-fetishists.
I like smart people. People who can talk about something other than their kids or TV shows. People who actually have informed opinions on things because they think. There is something about a man or woman whose brain lights up like a Christmas Village in winter that really turns me on. And I like the social awkwardness because it means I’m not constantly putting the macho-types who can’t keep their eyes-hands-mouths to themselves in their places. Sure, like most men they roll over and show me their bellies, but they never assume I’m going to check out their packages and be impressed. And often, they are kinky as hell.
There is the geek who loves to fuck with hentai anime up on the three TVs on the walls of his bedroom and Rachmaninov playing loud enough to tickle your skin. And another geek with a greek god’s cock who brings me a paddle and panties and begs for over-the-knee spankings. And of course there is the one who has OCD and is such a cleanliness freak he can only have sex in a bathroom, with water running over him and his partner. There is one mathematician I dated who had a thing for women’s backs. I once made him write mathematical equations down both sides of my spine and read them aloud while stroking himself off between the cheeks of my ass. He’s been mine ever since. And then there is the multi-millionaire geek with the cuckold fetish who brought me home to his wife. He sat at his computer stroking a massive erection and watched me I fuck her with a strap-on while we both verbally humiliated him for his inability leave his computer long enough to satisfy her sexually.
Mostly, though, I love geeks because they are good company. Geeks are sweet, genuine, and earnest. They know who they are, they accept themselves, and they accept others as they are. And from there, anything is possible.
