The Nerd

This is my first story on literotica and this will be one that will have a slow build to the sex. It's much more for the story than the sex. I will be publishing other stories soon that will be more sex oriented and will contain lots of kinky fetishes that showcase the kind of pervert I really am. But this story isn't for that. Also, I would like to state that I am not completely familiar with pride marches or the map of United States or the United States Education system and a lot of info regarding those in this story is what I got from Google, so it may not be 100% accurate. That said, please let me know how you felt about this story in the comment section. Thank You.

EDIT: Grammar and sentence corrections made.

~~~~~

The sound of the doorbell brought me out of my gaming trance. I typed out a quick 'AFK' to my teammates and rushed over to the door, eager to scare off whoever the annoying visitor was so I could get back to my DOTA 2. The bell rang once again before I could reach the door, irritating me once again. Finally, I reached the door, and swung it open to find my best friend staring at me with a playful smirk on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?"

I didn't bother responding with anything more than a grunt of displeasure.

"You should see the look on your face when I catch you in between one of your games. What is it now, that doat thing again, or is it that sky thing?"

"It's called DOTA 2, and you should know their names by now. We've been friends since we were kids and I've been playing these games for at least a year. Besides, you knew I'd be playing. You know when I start and when I finish, so why do you always show up right in the middle?"

"Because, I love you."

No, don't get the wrong idea. I am a lesbian, but she's not. She's my bestie and she loves me in that way, just as I do her. And while we're here let me lay down the base of this cake, paint the background sky, build the framework, whatever you'd like to call it.

I'm Cathy, short for Catherine Meyers, a senior in high school studying computers, and I'm what all of you lot call a nerd. I like to play a lot of games, don't go out on dates, keep my grades up (enough to hopefully get into MIT), blah, blah, blah stereotype. I even own thick nerdy glasses and used to wear braces (my teeth look perfect now though). Now with that out of the way, let's get to my appearance. I'm about five foot four inches tall with wavy chocolate brown hair that I usually keep up in a ponytail. I have rather small barely B-cups that just refuse to grow no matter how hard I try massaging them or drinking milk or whatever else that is supposed to work, but evidently doesn't.

I also have a rather skinny stature, owing to the previously mentioned gaming trance that I fall into every time I have a controller in my hand. Gaming has also caused my skin to end up rather pale, since I don't really get out in the sun too much. I'm also an 'out' lesbian. I say out like that because even though I came out officially, very few people actually know about it. The important people do know, like my parents, my bestie, her parents and a few others, but I didn't really want the hassle that comes with being a lesbian, as I'm already dealing with the problems of being a nerd. I do want to participate in pride marches, etc. and actually, that's where this story really starts out, but I digress.

Moving on, the girl who walked in earlier was my bestie and roommate, Sanjana 'Sanju' Krishnan. She's of Indian origin, but her parents moved to the states when she was very young. The two of us got to know each other very young because they were, and still are, our neighbors back at home. We've been together through elementary school, middle school, her convincing her parents to let her study Liberal Arts, my coming out, and a lot more. And now, we moved to Boston, Massachusetts together for high school, hoping we both could get admission in our preferred Ivy League Universities, me into MIT or Harvard and her into Williams or Amherst.

She, like all Indians, has jet black hair and chocolate brown skin, and never tell her that I actually admit it, she's just a tiny bit taller than me. The real thing that bugs me is her gracious C-cups that just pop out at anyone trying to read her shirt. And she gets a lot of guys, even though she is as much of a nerd as I am. She's a real slut, but only to other nerds and geeks. She hates going out with jocks and all those players. According to her, they need to be able to hold a conversation with her as well. Though I don't see the point because she never dates any of them, only sleeps with them.

Up until last December, we lived with Sanju's aunt and uncle who lived in Massachusetts. But when they had to move back to India, we had to move out and get a place of our own for these last few months. We found an apartment very close to our high school for the time being. Right now it's March, we've submitted our applications for various universities and are currently awaiting the result of our efforts.

Now, getting back to current time and our living room.

"Who was today's lucky guy?"

"There's this cute guy called Joshua in my History class who I've had my eye on for a week."

"So, what happened?"

"Gave him a handjob."

"That's it? You guys were all alone, in one of your secret spots, you've had your eye on this guy for a week and all you did was give him a handjob."

"Who said we were in one of my spots?"

"Then where... Wait! History is the last class you have today, and you came straight home, that means... No... No way... You gave him a handjob, IN CLASS!" Her smirk said everything that needed to be said. I couldn't believe her, was she trying to get expelled, just as she was about to graduate.

"Oh come on Cathy, we've already applied to the colleges, the professor wasn't even in class and everyone was either asleep or doing the same thing I was. We're done with high school."

"But still..."

"You worry yourself too much. I'm a little adventurous, but I'm not stupid. Besides, I don't think that guy is worth sleeping with. He's a quick shot, everything was over in a few minutes, barely enough to satisfy me."

"You go for the nerds, and yet you expect them to know how to have sex. That guy would probably blow his load at just the thought of some hand touching his penis, which isn't his own. It's actually surprising he lasted a few minutes. He was clearly holding back for you."

"Yeah, well he doesn't have to any more. I'm telling him the first thing I see him tomorrow that it meant nothing and he shouldn't trouble himself anymore about it."

"Seriously, why do you go for the nerds? You may be a nerd yourself but you're pretty hot. You could go for someone else. It's not like you have to settle for these guys."

"Guys are usually either players or nerds who know nothing about sex, there's a third category and that's the one I've been looking for, the ones that know how to have sex and look pretty hot, but are also nice, unlike the players. But those are really few in number, and they all already have girlfriends or are in love with Elizabeth." Ah, Elizabeth Baker. The bane of Sanju's love life. Almost every guy that Sanju was actually interested in for the past two years left her because they fell in love with Elizabeth. She was rated as the best looking chick in the entire high school two years in a row. A fact I, a lesbian, can attest to. There's no doubt she's hot enough to be a model. With her flowing blonde locks, long legs, thin frame, ample bosom, and tight ass, she's definitely a looker. But what surprises me the most about her is that she rarely dates anyone. And even if she does, it never lasts more than a week. In the past year, not one of the five relationships she's been in lasted more than three days. It's baffling to me, and evidently frustrating to my bestie, as she's started her rant about why Elizabeth is such a stupid bitch.

"Sanju, we've been through this already just last week. Lay off on the ranting, please. I need to get back to the game."

"Ugh, you're no help at all. I wonder why I even became your roommate."

"Yeah, love you too."

"Fine, whatever. Are you going to the pride march this weekend?"

"Yeah, I most definitely will. I have to see if anyone else came out of the closet this year."

"You never date any of them. What's the point?"

"I will this time. I finished applying for college and we're free until high school is over."

"Yeah, we'll see."

I stick my tongue out at her. She turns around with a huff and walks off into her room as I return to my game.

~~~~~

On Sunday afternoon, I gather all of the rainbow colored clothing, badges, flags, and all the colors of paint necessary. Stuffing them in the trunk of my car, I hop in and drive to the Cambridge St., where the march is going to start. Even though I've been 'out' for about two years now, I've never been to a pride march in Boston. Last year, I had gone home for the weekend when the march happened. But this year, I made sure to talk my parents out of going home this weekend.

If you ask me, I think they deliberately invite me home during the pride marches. Even though they accepted me for who I am, they've always been scared that my way of life would lead to people bullying or raping me like the stories they come across every day in the news. And while I understand their fears, they also have to understand that this is something I have to go through, and it's inevitable, considering who I am.

After an hour long trudge through Boston midday traffic, I finally reach the starting point. Immediately as I step out the car, I'm assaulted by rainbow colors on all sides. People all around me dancing to pro-LGBTQ+ music by artists who have supported us through. Men with rainbow face paint and flashy dresses. A drag queen dancing on top of a multicolored car. Two lovely ladies entwined in a heated kiss by the wall. A little girl, about fourteen years of age walks up to me and hands me a small 'We are Human, Too!' flag. I smile back at her and open up the trunk of my car to reveal a similar flag. She gives me a gracious smile and runs off to find someone else.

I pick up my stuff and head towards the crowd. Hopefully I'll have a date by the end of the evening.

~~~~~

I woke up holding my head, trying desperately but failing to dull hangover that I have right now. Honestly I don't remember much from the night before. I was at the pride march, there was a lot of alcohol being passed around as the evening sun set, and I might have had some.

I accidentally knocked something off my bed, which landed with a huge crash. At least, that's what it felt like. As I observed what I dropped, it was a phone, though curiously it wasn't mine. I had a lot to drink last night.

I reached down and picked it up as quietly as I could and examined it. There wasn't much I could do because it was locked. I set it down on the bedside table, picked up my glasses lying next to the phone and surveyed the room for its owner.

I was in what looked like a hotel. There were clothes all over the place, some of them mine, and some of them I couldn't recognize. I found my multicolor panties by the bathroom door, my jeans were crumpled in a ball by the bed and my matching bra and shirt were nowhere to be found. Beside me, I finally came across a body completely wrapped up in the bed sheets. The only indication that it was a human was the foot the poked out from the bottom.

The foot looked quite feminine, with bright pink nail polish and a soft feel. I sighed in relief. At the very least, I wasn't stupid enough to go to a pride march as a lesbian and end up in bed with a dude. But I was also quite disappointed that my very first lay as a lesbian was a drunken one night stand. Oh well, at least I know that there's someone out there who would sleep with me. I really missed out on this last year.

Getting up from my place on the bed, I gathered my panties and my jeans and head to the counter. I pulled them on and then made myself and my paramour some coffee. If she got herself as drunk as I did last night, she'll definitely need some.

Just as the coffee finished brewing, the body on the bed stirred back to life. She sat up and let the sheets fall from her upper body, only to reveal the sexy, naked torso of one Elizabeth Baker. What. The. Fuck!

"Elizabeth!"

"Ugh, a little softer. Please."

Oh right, hangover. I quickly poured another cup of coffee and walked over to her.

"And why do you sound like a girl?"

"Umm... Because I am one."

Her head snapped over to find mine. Slowly, realization creeped up into her eyes. Oh great, she slept with me because she thought I was a guy. What a way to kick a lesbian when she's hungover. Irritation seeped into my brain as I realized this.

"So what... do you regret last night now, just because I don't have a live penis? Is that it? Was last night suddenly not good enough because I'm a chick? Tell me."

"No, no, nothing like that. I was at the pride march, what did I expect? I'm sorry. I am a lesbian, but I'm still... what do they call it... ah, I'm still in the closet. But I do go to parties and sometimes I have too much and end up in some douchebag's bed, so I just assumed... I'm really sorry, I didn't mean..." Oh, so that was it. Be ashamed of yourself, Cathy. You've always hated people judging you too quickly and now look what you've done.

"Nah, it's alright. I assumed as well. I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault for..."

"As I said... it's alright..."

"So..."

"Right..."

We fell into a rather awkward silence. She doesn't seem to have realized who I was yet, or the fact that I said her name earlier. Makes sense, I'm not the most popular in my high school. I'm just a figure in the background.

"Wait, you said you were in the closet. What were you doing at the march then?"

"I... I thought I wouldn't be recognized in all that crowd. Also, I had a little rainbow face paint on."

"Not anymore."

She rubbed her cheek for the paint. "Oh... must have washed it off sometime in the evening." For a girl who had face paint on last night, she seemed pretty clean. Come to think of it, I also feel pretty clean and not at all like I fell asleep after a sweaty drunken day at what can only be called as a moving party/celebration/protest amalgamation. Wait, does that mean we...

"I... I think we had sex in the shower last night."

"You don't... remember?"

I held up my cup of coffee. "I was pretty drunk myself."

"That means we actually may not have slept together."

Irritation sparked in me once again. I tried my best to calm down and not judge her too quickly once again. Gritting my teeth, I answered sharply.

"It's a possibility, but it doesn't seem likely."

She gulped down the last of her coffee and then set her cup down beside her, pushing the sheets off as she got up. My jaw dropped at the sight in front of me. If I had any doubts about the opinions of all the perverted guys in my year, they were quelled almost immediately. Elizabeth Baker was indeed stunning.

She was very tall, seemingly five foot ten inches, and her creamy skin unblemished by any of the skin problems us mortals have to deal with. Her definitely D-cup breasts held themselves up without sagging even a little bit, defying Newton and all his laws of gravity. She had small pink nipples that looked really cute on her creamy skin. Her breasts swayed with her body as she searched for her clothes. She turned around and bent down to pick up her bra, giving me a perfect view of her tight ass and the secret in between her thighs.

Was she trying to kill me with her looks for sleeping with her? I'm sure she's trying to kill me.

Well, she could take my life if she wanted to, because I've clearly been to lesbian heaven last night.

"I hope it isn't though."

"Hmm... I'm sorry, what?"

"A possibility. I really don't want to have gone through all that trouble for the pride march, wake up in a bed with another lesbian and not have had sex with her. Especially someone as beautiful as you."

Yep, she's trying to kill me.

She quickly scoured the place and found her belongings as I drooled at every inch of the goddess in front of me. As she made her way over to my befuddled self, she brought a pen and a strip of paper out from her purse. She scribbled something on the paper and held it up to me.

"Nobody knows about me this way and I'd appreciate it if you keep it that way. But you know of the real me, and I want to get to know you better without the influence of that dreaded drink. So here's my name and number. Call me."

And with a smile, she was out of the hotel room.

For the next few minutes, I sat down in the hotel room trying to process just what the fuck happened. Elizabeth Baker just gave me her number and told me to call her. Was this an elaborate prank? Did the world just end? I have no fucking clue.

After a while, I picked up my phone and saw my notifications.

5 missed calls. 1 message.

I opened up the call records to find that one of them was from my mum and the others were from Sanju. I shook my head and opened up the message.

From: Sanju

20^th March 2017, 23:08

I called you a few times and you didn't pick up.

Looks like someone got lucky last night.

Details in the morning.

Love.

I shook my head at her message with a smile. She's incorrigible. I proceeded to gather the rest of my clothes. The last thing I found was my soaking wet bra in the shower. I desperately need to remember what last night felt like. Even if it's the last thing I do on this earth.

~~~~~

I stumbled up the stairs to our apartment and slowly pushed the door open. Almost immediately, I was ambushed by a soft mass with black hair.

"Yep, you definitely look like you've had sex. Now get in here and Tell. Me. Everything."

I didn't really have a choice in the matter and was forced into the couch. Sanju sat to my opposite with her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands and this bright, expectant look on her face.

"What?"

"Didn't you get my message?"

"Yes..."

"So?"

"So..."

"Details. Who was it? Do I know her? Was she any good? What did she look like? Was she a butch or a femme? How many times? On a scale of-"

"Stop, Sanju! Do you really have to barrage me with questions like this? I-"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Why exactly do you have to, again?"

"Because you've finally gotten laid and I've been waiting for years for this moment, so don't take this away from me. You've had your moment back when we were in freshmen, it's not my fault you blew it."

"I didn't want to know about your sex life."

"As I said, your loss. Now don't run away. I. Want. Details."

"Fine..." I huffed. "I never knew her personally, but she is from our high school. And you definitely know her, that's one thing I'm sure of. But she didn't recognize me, though. About the sex, I don't really remember much and neither did she. We were both too drunk last night."

"Who is she?"

I briefly contemplated not telling Sanju, but I knew she would coax it out of me anyway.

"Listen, about tha-"

"Are you telling me or-"

"Yes, yes I am telling you. But this girl, she's... still in the closet, so she told me not to tell anyone. So I'll tell you, but you should promise me you won't spill."

"Alright, I promise."

"The girl I slept with... It's Elizabeth Baker."

It was a pleasure to watch the myriad of emotions run through my best friend's face. I wish I had the sense to film it. It was hard to tell which emotion she was feeling because it all seemed like a mix of shock, happiness, sadness, anger and a bunch of others that I couldn't recognize.