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O man, I love to play with another bottom. Licking the cum out of his open hole and drinking his piss and talk about filthy porn and fantasys which have to be fulfilled. No you are not the only one

Two things: When THEY recognize you as a cumdump, it is an acknowledgement that you are on another level than your average bottom. When YOU recognize it, it means you've accepted your tastes/skills/hunger are on another level.

Hot as fuck! Wish he would have throat fucked him longer at the start, really make that bottom squirm

If you like daddies taking their pleasure at any cost ... [think before following links] https://thisvid.com/videos/rough-raw-fucking2/

It used to be fetish in gay porn back when condoms were common. Now bareback porn is ubiquitous because of better testing and PrEP. So bareback is more of a sexual practice or preference among performers.

Mu first hookup through m4m, I spontaneously decided to be bb only because I'd seen that in some ads. As I nearly exploded when he pulled me all the way back on his cock, I decided the decision was good.

Chapter 7: Darkness Unbound Helixion Genetics, North Hallway, Building 3, Ground Floor. REDACTED LOCATION. 22:00 MST. 30-OCT-20XX “That….. That’s his sock…” Lockjaw said, pointing down at the ground as Elias and Gravestone came up beside him. “He had them on this morning and… Why is his sock here?” Elias and Gravestone looked around, hoping to possibly find any other signs of the missing soldier around before Elias finally noticed the large puddle of clear liquid shining in the dim light of the hallway. Lockjaw picked up the sock, and found it sopping wet, covered in the same slimy residue that the team found earlier. His head was filled with new, confused questions. “Commander, over there,” he said, pointing at the end of the hall. “There’s another puddle of that liquid.” Suddenly, Lockjaw broke out into a sprint, running down the hall. “Sticks, are you down here?!” he frantically yelled, giving just a passive glance into the various rooms. “Please, just call out so I know you’re here!” “Shit, Lockjaw, get back here, we still need to clear the rest of the floor!” Gravestone yelled, as the two broke out into a run, trying to take off after him. “Lockjaw, stop man, we will find him, just hold on,” Elias yelled, holding his gun loosely at the ready, unnerved at the lack of response. Lockjaw rounded the corner, quickly vanishing from their sight. His boots echoed ominously down the hall. “God damn it, this is turning into a real problem fast,” Gravestone said, keeping pace with Elias as they both tried to follow, unable to close the distance as Lockjaw frantically continued his search. “I’m going to have to address this as soon as we finish the mission.” “I’d say give the guy a break, but yeah… this is totally against protocol,” Elias said. “He’s starting to lose it, sir.” They continued their chase, rounding the next corner. To their horror, more and more puddles of clear liquid dotted the floor. Suddenly, they both watched as Lockjaw’s step faltered, slipping in one of the puddles and sending him careening into the wall in front of him. Crashing to a stop, his hand accidentally slammed down on the large red fire alarm, catching the pull in the process. Immediately, a large metal shutter slammed down between the two men and Lockjaw, and the lights flickered off, the only light coming from the now flashing red lights over the doors. The dim light was occasionally pierced with a regular strobe of light. The hallway was suddenly flooded with the sound of the fire alarm blaring, three short chirping klaxons repeating over and over. Finally making it to the metal rolling door, Elias began trying to pull up on it, frustrated when he was unable to make it budge. “Lockjaw, can you hear me?” Gravestone yelled, pounding his fist on the metal door. “Are you okay?” Finally, they saw the door getting banged on in return. “Shit… sorry Commander, I-I didn’t mean to slip,” Lockjaw replied, his voice muffled behind the door. “I can’t get the door to open.” “Just… stay there while we figure out how to get it open for you,” Gravestone replied, his voice louder than usual as he tried to raise it above the alarm. Looking around, he scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration. “Kade… any ideas?” “Um… I think maybe the security office might have an override?” Elias replied in a near yell, putting his hands on his hips as he looked around. “Good idea. Lockjaw!” Gravestone yelled, putting one of his fingers in his ears from the loud noise. “We’re going to reset the alarm and see how we get you out of there. Stay put!” Quickly the two men pulled out their flashlights, cutting into the darkness. They slowly backtracked to the lobby as they spoke, the sound of the fire alarm dimming the further distance they walked. “Damn it, this day just keeps getting worse,” Gravestone sighed, looking at the map on the wall. “First the survivor and Sticks, now Lockjaw, and we’re walking around in the darkness.” “I’m sorry sir, I should have anticip-” Elias began to apologize before being cut off short. “Don’t. It’s nobody’s fault,” Gravestone said, shaking his head. “You had no way of knowing how everything would turn out. Although I feel like the further we go, the more it seems we weren’t given anywhere near all the information. You know what I mean?” “I…. yeah…” Elias replied, seeing the commander’s point. “Nothing is really making sense so far tonight. The mission brief was pretty clear that this was just a simple in and out, information and survivor extraction.” “Exactly, and knowing General Krell, the fucker has decided to keep up out of the loop for his own benefit,” Gravestone said, slamming his fist on the wall before waling down the hall. “Just like Berlin all over again.” “What exactly happened in Berlin?” Elias said, looking over at Gravestone briefly as they walked down the hall towards the stairwell. “I’ve heard bits and pieces, but everyone seems pretty tight-lipped.” “Krell was the one who approved the lab to make the virus that almost wiped out the city,” Gravestone explained as they walked. “He sold it to the upper brass as a global safety concern, found a way to protect the general public from the Marburg-Lyssa variant, and hired a genetics lab there to help develop a vaccine. Got billions to spend towards it after that outbreak a few years ago down in Uganda.” Opening the door to the stairwell, Elias entered, holding the door behind him to let Gravestone through as he continued speaking. “Turns out, the lab they were using wasn’t anywhere near equipped to handle working with the virus, and instead of creating a vaccine, they made it airborne. A sample got out and was infecting people like wildfire. Krell ordered a part of the city to be firebombed in an effort to sweep it all under the rug. Actually tried to blame our team for the bombing, saying we went rogue. Congress found out, and in an effort to save face, decided to force him into retirement instead of the backlash of the US losing total control of the situation.” “Jesus… that was him?” Elias said, opening the door to the lobby as he continued. “I thought that was just a random outbreak.” “That’s the story the general public got. Personally, I think Krell might have been pocketing some of the funds. Guy always seems to have his hand in these company’s pockets. But never got anything concrete,” Gravestone continued, looking again at the map. “This way to security. Needless to say, I don’t trust Krell in the slightest. And neither should you.” —----------------- Helixion Genetics, Corporate Office Building, Temporary Security Room, Fourth Floor. REDACTED LOCATION. 22:02 MST. 30-OCT-20XX An alert popped up on the General’s laptop. “Fire alarm triggered, building 3, corridor 7, basement level 1.” General Krell sat up straight in his chair, startled by the pop-up. He tried to listen closely, but the alarm couldn’t be heard from his secure room. He instantly rose, and went to the window, expecting to see the entire facility going up in flames. What met his gaze was the silence of night, and no burning buildings in sight. Apart from the blinking lights that could be seen inside a well-placed window with a view, nothing about Building 3 seemed out of the ordinary. “Dammit,” the General swore. “What are they doing over there? This was supposed to be a covert operation!” His fist came down on the windowsill, producing a dull thud that hardly did justice to his frustration. He instantly pulled out his mobile phone, selected a number from the speed dial, and held the device to his ear. “Yeah, it’s the General,” he said hurriedly. “The fire alarm in Building Three has been set off. Intercept the emergency response call, and tell them not to come.” Pause. “Yes, understood. There is no visible fire from outside, but the built-in containment system should be able to handle it.” Another pause while he listened. Then he moved back to his computer, and sat down. “I’ve got it here.” The person on the other end gave him instructions, and he began to type with both hands while holding the phone between his left shoulder and his ear. “I don’t have eyes inside yet, but heat sensors show absolutely nothing. So there probably is no fire.” Taking the phone back in his right hand, he continued to listen. “That’s right. See to it.” He closed the phone, and exhaled loudly through his nose. “Black Sigma, don’t fuck this up. I will not be disgraced again.” —------------ Helixion Genetics, North Hallway, Building 3, Basement Level 1. Opposite side of the metal shutter. REDACTED LOCATION. 22:00 MST. 30-OCT-20XX. Lockjaw began to panic. Try as he might, the door wouldn’t go back up. In his mind, he envisioned coming out the other side through another room, and wouldn’t Reaper and Gravestone be surprised? Then they could resume looking for Sticks, and all would be well again. He put his back against a wall, and slid down in defeat. He began to imagine the worst: that other metal doors came down in other parts of the facility and Sticks had been unlucky enough to be pinned beneath one of them; that he would be trapped in this strange place for days without food or sight of any soul; that he would search endlessly for Sticks and never find him. Then came the self-reproach. “I never should have left his side, not for an instant,” he whimpered. “I was so stupid to go off in a panic. Sticks, you idiot, why couldn’t you have waited for backup? Why did I let him put me on point like that?” Then he spoke aloud in a mocking voice, trying to imitate Gravestone. “Uh, no sense in taking risks! Lockjaw, you’re on point! Go fetch your stick! Ha!” Then in a normal voice, “Shit, I gotta get out of here. Sorry, commander, I can’t wait for you.” Lockjaw stood to his feet, brushed his pants with his hands, and wiped his face. He looked at the door accusingly, then down the rest of the hall. The blinking lights and the alarm were annoying, and he was grateful when they suddenly stopped. But the absence of the lights plunged the hall into near darkness, and his eyes could see little spots where the lights had previously been flashing. It was disorienting, so he waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He felt in his utility belt for his field light when he discovered the slot where it ought to be was empty. “Shit!” Then he remembered it flying out of his hand when he fell, and skittering across the floor away from him as the metal door came down. In the near darkness, he was able to make out movement some distance away. It crossed the hall from the left side to the right and disappeared. Might be two rooms over, possibly three or more. But it was enough to make Lockjaw curious. “Sticks? Is that you? It’s me.” He slowly moved down the corridor toward where he saw the movement, listening intently, and moving almost noiselessly, fearing that any sound he made would cause him to miss what he longed to hear. —---------------- Helixion Genetics, East Hallway, Building 3, Ground Floor. Security Room. REDACTED LOCATION. 22:04 MST. 30-OCT-20XX Tex recoiled from the monitor in abject horror. “Oh…. oh god…” he said above a whisper. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” He moved to a nearby trash can, and proceeded to dry heave over it. “Pussy. You ain’t got the stomach for this,” Stag said. He turned back to the monitor. The room they were viewing was now emptied of its occupants, save for the figure that slowly descended from the ceiling. Stag could tell by the figure’s movements that it was Zero. He didn’t have to see Zero’s face to know he was probably traumatized by what they just witnessed. It was then that Stag noticed he had a massive hard-on. He smirked at the realization that he just watched something truly fucked up, and he adjusted himself from outside his pants. Better than any of the wildest porn I’ve got at home! Fuck, that was wicked. Whatever those things were… they were beautiful. Then a new thought sparked in his head, and went into full bloom almost at once. I want to join in the fun. Stag suddenly had butterflies in his stomach while Tex continued to try to empty his to no avail. Stag had an instant to decide: stick to the mission, or go have a little fun. But to do the latter, he’d have to ditch Tex, and now was the best opportunity to do so. Then, for no reason at all, a jingle appeared in his head: In the army or the navy, ‘tis the same, you know, You must either take your chances, or away they go. It was part of a song in some goofy musical that he was dragged to on a date, and he was never able to forget it. Taking this as inspiration, he removed his service revolver from its holster, and turned it over in his hand. He held the gun backwards, the handle protruding. He took a couple steps over toward Tex, who was still bent over the trash can, much like an undergrad who drank too much on spring break would be found perched over a toilet bowl. Frustratingly, Tex lifted his head, coming almost face to face with Stag’s still hard and throbbing cock. “What the hell, man?” Tex backing away slightly. “Are you fucking hard right now?! You’re fucking sick…” “Sorry, buddy, but I can’t have you stopping me,” Stag said with a very slight twinge of fear for what he was about to do. Before Tex could react, Stag struck him over the back of the head with the revolver, and knocked him out cold. Tex fell face first into the can, which then fell over with a metallic clatter. Stag let out a sigh, surprised that he got it on the first try. Before he decided on senseless violence just for kicks, he holstered his weapon, and turned back to the monitors. After a minute of inspection, he found what he wanted, and swiftly let himself out of the security room, leaving an unconscious Tex lying on the floor with his head in a wastebasket. Upon exiting the security office, the alarm abruptly ceased, and the lights stopped flashing. Stag took out his flashlight, and proceeded back up the stairs. He silently prayed that he wouldn’t be spotted by any of his comrades in his flight. Absent-mindedly, he began to whistle the tune he remembered in the security room as continued his ascent. —------------- Helixion Genetics, North Hallway, Building 3, Ground Floor. Accounts receivable. REDACTED LOCATION. 22:15 MST. 30-OCT-20XX. Lockjaw had been resuming his search for his missing partner for only ten or so minutes, but it felt like an eternity. As the minutes passed, several agonizingly slow minutes, his concern began to increase. Sticks had just vanished without a trace. As wild scenarios began to form in his head, he kept reminding himself that it was just his imagination. But where was the thing he saw earlier? Could it have been his mind playing tricks? That he saw something only because he wanted to see it? Reaper told him to stay put, but if Sticks were down here after all, Lockjaw thought it better to find him now. At the very least, it would pass the time, and if he were successful, then he could relax and resume the mission. This was the only thing that kept him going as he continued to check every cubicle, under every desk, and in every room. “Damn, this place is huge,” he muttered. “And it’s just one of the buildings on campus!” He heard a distant, unidentifiable sound, and spun around toward where he thought it came from. “Hello? Sticks?” No answer. “Gravestone? Reaper?” He listened again, and got no reply. He may as well have asked the moon a question. Proceeding a few more stops, something new came into his vision. A boot, size 8. The exact same size as Sticks’s. Lockjaw quickly rushed forward to retrieve it, holding it in both of his hands like a valued treasure. Looking around, he tried to find the source of where it came from, sure that he’d finally found his absent lover. Holding it close to his body, he cradled it for a half a second before holding it away in near disgust. The smell coming from it wasn’t just that of a normal boot, but reeked, making his eyes water. “Jesus… how can it smell so bad?” Lockjaw asked himself out loud, jumping as a giggle in the corner of the room broke the silence. It caused him to drop and completely forget the boot. “Eric? Is that you?” Lockjaw called out, feeling around in the near darkness. “Hiiiiiii Adrian,” Sticks’s voice said, his voice sounding somewhat strange in Lockjaw’s ears. “I got pretty lost, but guess what….” “Where the hell… what happened?” Lockjaw said, finally finding him in the darkness, laying his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh my god, you have no idea how glad I am that I found you!” Relief washed over him, followed by hope, then confusion, and finally, a resurgence of relief as his heart soared. Yet, questions still plagued him. “I missed you too, Adrian,” the smaller man rubbing his face around on his shirt. “I got sooooo lost. But guess what? I found a way out. Wanna see?” Lockjaw slowly pulled him away from his chest, his brain registering how wet it now felt. Touching one of his hands, he could just make out the shiny slickness on his fingers. Repulsed, he quickly wiped his hands on his pants in disgust. Grabbing his lover’s hand, Lockjaw slowly led him down the hall, stopping finally in front of the dull red glow of the exit sign. Looking down at Sticks, he slowly began to assess the smaller man. In the red glow of the sign, Lockjaw could just barely make out Sticks’s face, grinning almost like a loon, saliva dripping down his face, his pupils almost like two dark pools, sucking in the small amount of light. The smaller man’s flesh, fully exposed as he could now see, was almost feverish to the touch, a slight sheen of sweat covering it. His normally pale skin somehow seemed darker, and his veins seemed almost to stand out harshly. “Did you come in contact with something, baby?” Lockjaw said, running his hands gingerly across his skin, no longer concerned about his own safety from an infection, but instead wanting to find some sort of break in the skin. “Follow me, I want to show you the way out I found…” Sticks said, still grinning profusely, shaking out of the man’s grasp before gripping one of his hands, tugging him down the hall further. “Come with meeee, I want to show you.” At first, Lockjaw followed, unsure what to do as they almost seemed to go deeper into the facility. The two reached a stairwell, going down the stairs as Sticks began to hum a tune that Lockjaw couldn’t identify. Lockjaw began to get unnerved, unsure how Sticks could be so sure of where to go in the near darkness, at how they were going deeper into the building and not up and out. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore and stopped as they finally reached the bottom of the stairs. “Eric… I don’t think this is the right way… I think we need to go back up and have Patch or Tex take a look at you,” Lockjaw said, feeling more and more concerned that something was wrong, something that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. “NO!” Sticks said, the sudden change in mood causing Lockjaw to try and pull away, shocked at how strong of a grip Sticks had on his hand. Just as suddenly, Sticks’s mood was softer again, smiling and pulling Lockjaw in on a tight hug. “No, baby, I… I’m naked, and I want to show you the way out so I don’t get lost again,” Sticks almost sobbed, the wetness growing again on Lockjaw’s shirt as he spoke. “You don’t want me to get lost again, right?” “Um… Eric… why are you naked?” Lockjaw asked, his head feeling slightly fuzzy as an odd smell began to come off of Sticks. “What happened to you?” Suddenly, Sticks released him and went running through the door, giggling again as he ran. Lockjaw, worried, immediately ran after, trying to keep up. “Wait, stop running. Where are you –” Lockjaw called after, suddenly slipping in a large pool of liquid, the smell coming off Sticks being much stronger in the room they were now in, looking like a long maintenance hallway. Lockjaw fell onto his back, slightly dazed as the wind was knocked out of him. The smell of the hallway was making his head swim as he involuntarily gasped in a deep breath in pain. Suddenly, Sticks was sitting on top of him, almost straddling him as he finally got a good look at his face, the light in the hallway being just a touch lighter than the rest of the basement floors. Sticks’s skin had taken on a sickly shade of grey, his pupils blown wide with an almost orange tinge to his normally green iris. The veins in his skin stuck out, looking almost black under his pasty white skin. It was when Lockjaw looked at Sticks’s teeth that he realized just how odd and wrong everything was. The teeth themselves looked too sharp, like someone had taken a file to his teeth. Foul-smelling drool was dripping profusely out of his mouth, threatening to drip on his face. “Oh my god… Eric, what happened to you…” Lockjaw said in disbelief, unsure what to do as the much smaller man on top of him held him in place with almost an inhuman amount of strength. “Don’t worry, baby,” Sticks said, smiling almost evilly as he cocked his head to the side. “I’m going to make you feel soooo good. Just give in to everything. I have an amazing… gift for you.” The way Sticks said ‘gift’ just now gave Adrian pause. He slightly raised an eyebrow in response. Lockjaw’s attention briefly turned to the scream growl coming down the hall, echoing on the concrete walls. Panicked, he looked back towards Sticks when his face was suddenly covered in a clear sheet of saliva, getting into his eyes and mouth as he accidentally gasped in shock. The entire world was covered in a blur as he felt the spit seeping into his eyes, making them water as his brain began to feel numb. “Shhh…. Just relax and let it take over, baby…” Sticks said, lovingly stroking his hand through Lockjaw’s hair, his face in a harsh grin. “You’re going to feel so good in a few minutes. My new friends are going to be here, and then the reeeeal fun will begin.”

So I got a gum swab test that arrived yesterday 8/14, and it says it's not accurate untill 90 days after exposure. It's only been 37. There were two tests so I did one and it was negative, but as I said , it says don't use until 90 days! lol, I couldn't not take it!

I've taken so many bb loads that I'm sore. Everyone is too healthy. Looking for a breeding. DM, please. I can host.

FUCK YEAH! We could play Fox and Hound.

Ive I can usually take a guy for an hour and have with multiple guys but most guys dont last that long.

Never seen this site. Will have to take some time (a long time) and check this place out.

More specifically, if your vial load is under 200 you are "undetectable". The reality is that while testing can see finer numbers, "undetectable" was established when we could only see above 200.

Yes, to be poz is to be untouchable, no matter the u=u ads on TV. I'm certain if I erased my status on my online profiles I would be back to hookups once or twice a week. Poz seems to have made me automagically off limits for just about all of my former fuck buds. Other STI's have always been on the "what's out there" list. In the 20 years since TasP (now u=u) started the risk of HIV is consistently thought to be hugely higher than it is. Read the fantasy stories and you would think one hot fuck is gonna do it. It rarely does. And we seem to have forgotten how to talk with each other. Sex is hopefully not one specific act done one specific way or we just aren't happy.... Yeah for some, but I think for most it are the variations in sexual pleasure that is a turn on. Cripes if conversation is difficult sex must be impossible! 🙂