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The first time was with a guy I met at the Baths. I saw he had one when we prepared for each other and I expressed some hesitation He said I could go as slow and take as long as I need. He was really kind and patient and probably the best one to meet for my first PA experience. That was the first, and last, time to experience it on the best level. I just did not like it. Despite his reassurances, I always had a fear in my mind while doing it. I never relaxed. I never did it, or will do it, again.

I am a faggit and need constant reminders and verbal degrading for it. I love being inferior to real men and just a place for them to put their cock and cum

Hit me up lots of cum to give

Want to go home to the wife , my breath smelling like dick and my hole and my belly full of cum😵

I love reading your stories. If only I bumped into you at an ABS, it would be a dream come true.

Wishing you good luck with the dude …. And definitely looking forward reading your reports….

What's the story of the first time you used poppers? I knew what they were from porn and stuff but thought they just helped your muscles relax, especially your hole. First time I went to someone's house that I met online, he taught me how to use them. Holy shit! I was so fucking horny. I was moaning and begging for dick in ways I'd never done before.

Oh my goodness, it’s a beautiful description of slamming. I had to jerk off and fuck, I shot a huge load.

I love old troll cock cumming down my throat while another old grandpa breeds me. In montreal there are still 2 small theatres and 1 big one. Mostly old men there. It's fucking really hot. I give myself to anyone there to use me.

I’m gonna fucking spun out on Adderall. I really wish I knew a big black guy fuck.

That randomizer is so funny. Sometimes I increase it but it moves right on top of me.

Such a good story... hope we can read the next steps too... Love pozz group fun

Author’s note: This chapter is a departure from the others because the character “Brian” is a mixture of guys I ran into during my time in Southern California who had similar qualities and behaviors. This chapter was difficult to write and for better or worse, I decided to take this road. LaLa Land Los Angeles in the late 1980s was never a place I imagined myself living in, but here I was. It was not so much an escape from the East Coast as it was a change of scenery, perhaps the turning of the page to a new chapter. Emotionally, I felt bruised and bloodied, but not defeated. I was born stubborn. But at that time, I thought new people, new job, new scene, agreeable weather, with an occasional shake to keep things interesting. You know, "shaken, not stirred." Dan’s death was the final impetus for that change I’d been contemplating. When he told me he was ill, he never spelled it out, nor did he need to. His partner Kieran followed him with “cancer” shortly before his 30th birthday. About a year prior, my doctor insisted that I finally submit to an HIV test. He began to require that all his gay patients be tested. He was tired of seeing his patients dropping like flies, and he wanted to see the day that this was no longer the case. He treated all the STDs I regularly picked up through random sex, so it was a surprise to no-one when the test showed that I was indeed positive. He remarked that my vital signs continued to be extremely strong, and I commented that I felt normal and healthy, and I hadn’t ever been truly sick. He told me that there were some promising medications to treat HIV/AIDS that were hopefully coming in the very near future. He counseled me that the experimental drugs current being tested on people were toxic to many (all) patients. Like all other gay city guys, I knew men who tried to choke down handfuls of pills to buy another day of life. My doctor recommended that I delay starting any meds and that my vitals continue to be monitored. He urged that I use condoms with each and every sexual encounter, blah, blah, blah. In my short life as a gay man, I’d dated some guys exclusively, others casually, and I’d had both anonymous sex with strangers as well as with friends and guys I knew quite well. I started to look at sex as “living for the moment” with good reason. But I intended to be responsible and do my part to avoid spreading further disease. I had no idea how long I had been HIV positive, who I contracted it from, whom I had given it to. Fast forward about a year and I was still the picture of health as I started a new chapter in LA. There are so many exceptionally beautiful people in LA trying to get into “the industry” as Angelenos call it. Of course, LA throughout its history has always been crawling with gays. Where I lived at the time, the Mid-Wilshire district was no exception. One morning I was running late for a meeting, and I drove into the garage of the office building. As I walked to the elevator lobby, a very handsome guy my age held the door open for me. Our eyes locked as I said thanks. He was about 6 feet tall to my 5 feet 10 inches, he had brown puppy-dog eyes and somewhat long brown hair to my blue eyes and short dirty blond hair. Of course he was as fit as fuck. The next day at lunch time, I went to one of the sandwich shops in the lobby of the building and I saw him again. As he walked toward the outdoor patio to have his lunch, he looked up and I smiled at him. “May I join you?” I asked. His name was Brian, and he worked a few floors away from me for a talent agency. He lived in West Hollywood (WeHo), but his father was in the military and so he’d grown-up all over. We exchanged numbers and I asked him out for a drink that Saturday night. We met at a WeHo bar and chatted about our experiences since moving to LA, our jobs, and of course sex. Later on, we walked on to another bar for a change of scenery. Brian held the door for me, and we walked into one of the seedier gay bars I could remember. I don't remember the name of the place, which probably closed long ago and has since been gentrified. Brian led me to the back room of the bar which was especially dark because my eyes hadn’t adjusted. We entered a kind of privacy stall with a door, and he started kissing me passionately. He unzipped my jeans and pulled out my rock-hard cock and started sucking me. I hadn’t realized that this was going to be that kind of date, but my cock and Brian’s mouth were in control now. I’d just shaved my ball-sack and manscaped before our date. Brian was able to take both my large hairless nuts into his mouth simultaneously and he looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes. I pulled my sack from his mouth and pointed my cock to his lips, and he parted them and took my cockhead all the way to the very back of his throat. After a time, I groaned, “Brian, you’re getting me very close.” He started mouth-fucking my cock fast and furiously. I felt my nuts contract as I started feeding my load to him. He swallowed, licked his lips and smiled at me. He stood up and we kissed for quite a long time: two queer men alone together in the middle of a crowded gay bar dark room. Finally, I turned Brian around so his back was against my chest. I pushed up his shirt and licked from his neck down his bare skin along his spine which made him shudder. I savored the saltiness of the slight sweatiness of his spine. I got down to the waist of his jeans, but before I could do anything, he dropped his jeans from his muscular ass and down to his knees. He was wearing a jockstrap, the slut! I buried my face between his lightly hairy ass cheeks. I breathed in his essence as my tongue began to explore his tight pucker. As I pushed my tongue up into him, I heard Brian huffing a brown bottle he must have grabbed from his jeans before he dropped them. His hole relaxed and opened up for me like an Easter flower. He reached back and pulled my face deeper between his glorious ass cheeks and at that moment, I never wanted to be anywhere else. He was moaning as I rimmed him and he finally gasped, “I want you inside, Dave.” I stood up and rubbed my cock so it was lodged lengthwise along his hairy crack. He bent over to give me easy access, and I teased his hole. I reached down to my jeans pocket and grabbed a condom and a little packet of lube. “Put it on me,” I instructed Brian as I handed it to him. He tossed the rubber on the floor as he opened the lube packet with his teeth and then spread some on his hole and fingered some inside. Then he reached back and placed my cock head at his pucker and he pushed back. My cock slid into him, and I eventually bottomed out in him with my balls against his taint. A choice had been made. I fucked him hard, and our sex noises blended with those of all the other guys who were fucking in similar cubicles or just out in the open in the darkroom. Finally, I came in him and I rested my body on top of his. Eventually, my softening cock plopped out of his hole along with some of my babies that dripped onto the floor. We went back to my place and jumped into bed. Brian road my cock cowboy style as I reached around and pinched his nipples and then let another load loose in him as he shot all over his abs. The next morning with the sun coming over the horizon, I looked down into his eyes as he looked up at me with his ankles on my shoulders. I really came to love Brian and we tried to have a real relationship, but it just didn’t seem to work for us. We were better off as fuck friends than boyfriends. That was a dynamic that followed me with all the guys I met in LA. Was it them or was it me?

Yes would love to be raped and bred and told about what dirty seeds are being bred with 💞💞

The air in the apartment was thick with sweat and the musky scent of sex, the low hum of moans and laughter blending with the muffled sounds of poz-themed porn playing on a loop across the far wall. Doug stood near the entrance, his bare skin prickling under the weight of so many eyes—some curious, some hungry. Piet, ever the gracious host, draped an arm around his waist, fingers tracing idle circles on his hip. "Relax, man," he murmured, his breath warm against Doug’s ear. "Everyone here’s been where you are. Just breathe." Arthur, already half-hard again, gestured toward a cluster of men lounging on a massive sectional, their cocks either stroking lazily or already buried in someone’s mouth. "Doug, meet the regulars," he said, his voice a smooth purr. "That’s Marco with the sleeve tattoos—he’s a fucking animal when he bottoms. And the silver fox over there? That’s Richard. He’s got a thing for breeding fresh meat." Doug’s pulse jumped as Richard’s gaze locked onto him, slow and assessing, like he was already imagining how Doug’s hole would clench around his cock. Doug swallowed hard, his mind spinning. Names blurred together—Liam, the twink with the prince albert; Javier, the stocky dom who liked to spit in your mouth before kissing you—and he gave up trying to memorize them. The room was a kaleidoscope of flesh: hairy chests, smooth backs, cocks of every size and shape, some leaking precum, others already glistening with lube. The energy was electric, a current of need and permission that made Doug’s own dick twitch despite his nerves. Before he could overthink it, a couple—tall, lanky Tom and his burly boyfriend Derek—closed in on him. Tom’s fingers trailed down Doug’s chest, nails scraping lightly over his nipples. "First time at a party like this, huh?" he murmured, voice rough with amusement. Doug nodded, his throat dry. Derek didn’t bother with small talk; he just dropped to his knees, tongue already out, and lapped a slow stripe up the underside of Doug’s cock. The wet heat made him gasp. "Fuck, you’re big," Derek groaned, wrapping a hand around the base. "Bet you’ve got a tight little hole too, don’t you?" Tom chuckled, pressing against Doug’s back, his own hard length grinding between his ass cheeks. "Oh, he does. Arthur’s been bragging." His teeth grazed Doug’s earlobe. "You gonna let us find out?" The question wasn’t really a question. Doug’s body answered for him, his hips rocking forward, seeking more of Derek’s mouth. The first suck was obscene, Derek’s throat fluttering around the head of his cock, and Doug moaned, his hands tangling in Derek’s short dark hair. They moved him to a nest of cushions near the wall, where the porn’s moans mixed with their own. Tom pushed Doug onto his back, spreading his thighs wide. "Look at you, already dripping," he murmured, rubbing a thumb over Doug’s slit. Derek didn’t waste time; he spat into his palm, slicked up, and pressed the fat head of his cock against Doug’s prelubed entrance. The stretch burned, delicious and sharp, and Doug arched into it with a broken sound. "That’s it, take it," Tom crooned, stroking himself as he watched. "You’re gonna take both of us tonight, aren’t you?" Derek bottomed out with a groan, his hips rolling in deep, punishing thrusts. Doug’s fingers clawed at the cushions, his own cock leaking onto his stomach. When Derek pulled out, Tom took his place, his cock thinner but longer, hitting spots that made Doug’s vision white out. They traded off like that, fucking him in turns, their rhythm syncing until Doug was nothing but a trembling, overstimulated mess between them. "Gonna fill you up, baby," Derek growled, his balls drawing tight—but then he pulled out at the last second, stroking himself, "later though, after this POZ cock has plowed a few more of the asses here." Doug licked them both clean instinctively, tasting salt and musk, his own cock aching with need. But they didn’t let him come. Tom smirked, pinching the base of Doug’s dick. "Not yet. You’ve got more to give." Doug whimpered, his body thrumming with denied pleasure. Next was Rafael, a wiry power bottom with a smirk and a tattoo of a scorpion on his thigh. He crooked a finger at Doug, his ass already slick and gaping from someone else’s cock. "C’mere, papi," he purred. "I wanna feel that big dick split me open." Doug didn’t need to be told twice. He knelt behind Rafael, gripping his hips, and pushed inside with a groan. The man was talented, his inner muscles milking Doug’s cock like he was trying to pull the cum out of him. "Fuck, yes," Rafael hissed, reaching back to spread himself wider. "Breed my POZ pussy, puta." Doug’s balls tightened, his orgasm coiling low—but Rafael must’ve sensed it. He clenched down hard, and Doug gasped, his release stuttering, denied again. The room was a blur of flesh and filthy promises. Poz talk swirled around him—"Recharge me fucker"—"Knocked up three guys when I was off my meds"—"You ever take it raw from a guy who’s really sick? Nothing like it." Doug’s head spun, his body thrumming with denied release, his hole loose and aching from use. Then he appeared. Chris. Younger than Doug by at least a decade, with a messy mullet and a lip ring that glinted under the dim lights. His uncut cock was average but thick, veiny, the head already weeping. He didn’t ask. He just grabbed Doug by the hair, yanked him up, and shoved him against the wall. "Heard you like it raw," Chris growled, his breath hot and beer-scented. Doug barely had time to nod before Chris spun him around, bent him over, and slammed home in one brutal thrust. "Fuck—!" Doug cried out, his nails scraping the wall. Chris wasn’t gentle. He fucked like he had something to prove, his hips snapping against Doug’s ass, his balls slapping loud enough to echo. "Gonna knock you up," he snarled, his fingers digging into Doug’s hips hard enough to bruise. "Gonna fill this used hole with my POZ cum, make you mine." Doug’s cock, still desperate, leaked against the wall, his body caught between pain and pleasure so intense it bordered on religious. Chris didn’t hold back. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and roared, his cock pulsing deep inside Doug as he emptied himself. Doug could feel it—the heat, the weight of it, filling him in a way none of the others had. His own orgasm crashed over him, his cock spurting against the wall as Chris’s cum dripped out of him, thick and obscene. He was still trembling when Arthur’s hands found his waist. "My turn," Arthur murmured, his voice dark with promise. He didn’t pull Doug away from the wall—just pressed against him, his cock, sporting a bigger P.A. than usual sliding easily into the mess Chris had left behind. Doug moaned, his sensitive hole clenching around the intrusion. Arthur’s thrusts were slower, deeper, his breath hot against Doug’s neck. "Look," he commanded, nodding toward the other side of the room. Doug’s gaze followed. Chris was on his knees now, his ass lips stretched around the cock of an older man—Richard, the silver fox—who had a hand fisted in his hair, fucking him with slow, deliberate strokes. Chris’s eyes were watering, his lips slick with spit and precum, but he was obviously loving it, Chris' own cock hard again despite having just come. Arthur chuckled, his hips rolling in a rhythm that made Doug’s toes curl, his P.A. dragging against Doug's rectum wall. "See that? That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be a proper POZ pig." Doug couldn’t deny it. His cock, already spent, twitched back to life at the sight. They didn’t last much longer. Arthur came with a groan, his release mixing with Chris’s inside Doug, marking him in a way that felt permanent. Doug’s legs shook as Arthur pulled out, cum dripping down his thighs. He needed a break. Doug collapsed onto a free couch, his body humming, his mind foggy. Chris plopped down beside him a moment later, his chest still heaving. He grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "First time at one of these?" he asked, nudging Doug’s knee with his own. Doug exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. You?" Chris’s smirk faltered for half a second. "Nah. But first time since…" He tapped his temple. "Since I converted." Doug’s stomach twisted. Converted. The word hit him like a punch. Before he could ask, Arthur appeared, a fresh beer in hand. He dropped onto the armrest, his thigh pressing against Doug’s. "Chris here’s got a gift for you, Doug," he said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. "His viral load’s sky-high. Off the charts." He leaned in, his lips brushing Doug’s ear. "That’s why I brought you here. Surprise." Doug’s breath caught. Chris’s grin turned sharp, hungry. "Yeah. Arthur said you’d love that. Fucking hot for me too." The room tilted. Doug’s hole ached, still full of their cum—his cum. The realization settled over him, heavy and intoxicating. He’d taken it. He’d wanted it. And now— Arthur’s fingers traced the cum drying on Doug’s thigh. "How’s it feel, knowing you may be one of us now?" Doug’s pulse roared in his ears. He didn’t have an answer. Not yet.

Not "going to"?

it has to be raw for me. and it seems like all bottoms are in the same frame of mind. A top I saw a couple of times a few years insisted on using a condom. I went along with it cos I was desperate for some cock but it didn't leave me satisfied. He might have just been using a dildo on me it was soulless. No, I have to feel bare cock in me only. I'm nit on prep. Don't know what it is or how to get it. I've never knowingly been fucked by a poz top, detectable or not. I want to be though. I love the thought of poz men and their poz cocks going in me. i want it to happen. I want do much to suck on poz cock and swallow poz cum.

There's no need to pay for an escort. You'll good some really good BBC in Atlanta. You're in for a treat!

I would love to let you breed and use my hole.