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ANOTHER REAL EXPERIENCE – Unsuspected Pnp’ers Who knew they partied? A recent series of posts on Breeding Zone, discussing whether or not your friends are aware of your partying activities got me thinking about the times I discovered someone I knew and would never have expected indulged, was instead well-acquainted with enhanced sex. For 16 years, I've managed to keep my party life from interfering with my two careers or other "normal world" day-to-day activities. Some periods I attend pnp parties once or twice a week, some periods a few times a month, sometimes only once a month. In answer to your question, CERTAIN friends know I party (certainly my husband knows I do, though he does not - our open sexual relationship for the past 27+ years and our opposite work schedules mean I do so only during those times he is working which he is cool with). Only one of my straight friends knows I party, and select gay/bi friends. Usually those are friends I've either met "in the scene" who have crossed over into being actual real-world friends that one could rely on, rather than just pnp-buds (who are fine too, so long as one realizes the limitations and true parameters of that kind of interaction). However, every once in a while I'm surprised to discover someone I never expected is a partier, and I always get a kick out of hooking up in a situation like that. When my husband and I lived in Hell’s Kitchen in the 90s, directly across the air-shaft that sank through the center of our apartment building lived two guys who like us were musical theater performers – these guys were both hot and ripped African-American dancers (my hubby and I are Anglo – and like them I had a muscled dancer bod). It got to the point where we would all do 3 ways and 4 ways together… the catch being that either one or both of them would come to our place, or I would go to theirs by climbing across the airshaft 4 stories up! (My hubby, an opera singer, could not do the same). To be fair, the ventilation shaft was shaped like a hexagon <=> and we crawled across where in the angle where the two windows met. Like us, one of them was really kinky and the other pretty vanilla so no enhancements were ever included. They eventually moved out to LA to do music videos. Then, a few years later, after I had started to pnp a bit more, I bumped into Craig, the kinky one, at a buddy’s afternoon chemparty and finally got to play with him in a supercharged way – we did so several times during the time he was back in New York for a show – it was great to finally fuck that beautiful hot ass bareback and get fucked by his fat black cock the same way, along with some major hole play between us. There was a hot but conservative couple I knew that for years were very vocally anti-party - we'd played together, but it took longer for me to get to their place then the un-enhanced sex would actually take, and so I didn't go out often. Then one day out of the blue they had a total switch and my numerous sessions with them since have been very hoT - I've written about them in my true experiences blog on this site. The same for an actor/director I knew only professionally - we'd starred in two productions together and he'd directed me in a third... what a Christmas Present it was when this guy - a married guy with kids who had a TV series in the 80s and is in a ton of movies we've all seen - got me alone at a rehearsal for "A Christmas Carol" and told me he was bisexual and a 'mutual friend' had assured him that I could mentor him in the T-fueled gay sex scene which I gladly said I would... this was made even more ironic in that I was playing Bob Crachit and he was playing Ebenezer Scrooge at the time. Imagine if you will seeing Crachit and Scrooge naked, blowing clouds and booty bumping, with Crachit topping and breeding a leather restrained Scrooge and giving him chem piss... yeah we played that up in our first sex session (even used the British accents...). One of our other first sessions took place in his house one evening, in his office/library room while his soon-to-be ex-wife was out – we swapped pipe hits while fucking on his desk and blowing clouds on the family pics on his desk. When they separated, he took an apartment in Upper Manhattan and we pnp’d there frequently. Another surprise was recent and very, very welcome. During the '90s when I lived in Hell's Kitchen, there were a number of regularly scheduled sex parties in NYC. There was one I attended very frequently where the guys running it would not charge me the entrance fee if I would come early and get the sex started (having no inhibitions). One of the event runners, Bill, was one of the hottest guys I'd ever had sex with and we'd frequently save our last encounter of the night for each other when we'd flip-fuck, both of us having spent the rest of evening topping others. While I would do some bottoming on some nights, he never did at all, except for me and one other guy and only at the end of the party, because the other guys in management didn't want his big cock and butch leather reputation to be sullied among the other customers/guests - apparently, they felt, correctly it seems, that the possibility of being fucked by him brought lots of guys back week after week. Bill and I also very naughtily broke the “always use a condom” pledge that was part of the event rules somewhat frequently… however, it was usually so late that there’d be no one to notice who ever would have complained or reported it, and hell, he was one of the event runners! Anyway, these parties were very much NOT chem-friendly so how would I know he was into it? After 12 years without seeing each other, he read one of my "real experience" blogs on Tumblr, and as he said "I knew immediately that had to be you!" and sent a message. Funny, he was afraid I wouldn't remember, or that I'd not be interested - WRONG!! I nearly fell out of my chair trying to respond immediately - it's nice to know that someone you think was one of the most amazing sex partners EVER thinks the same of you! The first time I saw him after those 12 years, I met him in midtown to introduce him to my candyman. After sitting around with a few other guys and blowing clouds with them, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other – and since nothing was going to be happening where we were for at least a few more hours – we found a nearby hotel room, raced over there, got naked, loaded up our pipes and dove all over each other. We both ate hole for what seemed like hours, since we’re both addicted to rimming and we each do it VERY well. It was a very hot, unexpected surprise (we hadn’t planned on playing until the following week) and though it was only a couple of hours, it was just so much fun to really LET GO with this kindred spirit. Just this past weekend, I introduced him to a hot versatile couple I play with sometimes in the Bronx, and it was the first time I saw him slammed (he’s done so very infrequently)… it was amazing to watch him truly relax and just have FUN while the four of us flip fucked and enjoyed each other all around. So we've now partied together - one on one, which is unusual for me - several times now and the sessions have been awesome. We also relate on a number of other levels including having husbands with physical disabilities, and its great to have someone to talk about that with as well - its been double bonus time for both of us!

I hadn't planned on it, and didn't expect it. Well - I didn't expect it. I was cleaned out, and lubed up. What I planned on, or at least hoped for, was a pleasant encounter with some willing top who might like the look of me and have some fun. You never knew at this campground, but it was a gay campground, so the odds were good, and even if the goods were sometimes odd, I didn't much care. But it was a crapshoot, because I was there alone, and it always seemed like the action happened to the guys who arrived with friends. Groups begat groups, action happened more readily within groups, and action begat... well, begetting. A guy alone found it harder to get noticed, to get selected, to become a focus of, shall we say, attention. Not that I'm ever looking for 'attention'. I don't care if they ever even see my face. For that matter, I don't care if I ever see theirs. One of my greatest memories from that place is the dark night where an unknown guy fucked me deliciously for a good ten minutes before he blew, then handed me over to another who plugged right in. The first guy then paused by my head and said to the first, a stranger to him, "You'll love that. He's got a fantastic ass." He left, and I never saw his face. This time, I wandered around for a while, finding no joy, and at last made my way into a shed where they kept a fucking bench. Two men stood nearby touching each other, and others stood in conversation around the walls. No one particularly noticed me as I stepped over to the unoccupied bench. I pulled down my underwear and bent over with my belly against the leather and my elbows and knees against the rests, not really expecting anyone to take the unasked-for offering. Nobody did for a few minutes. But then the two men touching each other suddenly began touching my ass, and soon, fingering my hole. Without a word, one of them lined his cock up and slid it forcefully inside; it was just the right size to stretch me open without much pain. His vocals turned heads. After a few minutes I felt him fill me, and then his friend swapped out and did the same. By the time he pulled out, I was glowing - two for the price of one! I started to raise up, but suddenly felt two fingers at the small of my back give me a little push back down. Slowly, I resumed my position on the bench. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two guys standing beside me and the bench. They weren't moving to jump back in again, but I couldn't tell what they were doing. I only knew they wanted me to stay there. A few wordless minutes later, a different set of hands spread my ass apart and stroked my taint up and down across my hole, the finger probing inside, smearing cum in and out to lube the opening. Then an larger cock entered, and began fucking. The grunting was more gutteral than before, lower and quieter - a bigger man, who finished more quickly, but filled me just the same. After he pulled out, I started to raise up - but there it was again, a little push. This time, a pair of eager, uncertain hands. Hands that weren't sure quite what to do. Hands that kneaded my globes and my calves, a cock that smacked against my hole repeatedly, a cockhead that jabbed the wrong place a couple of times before getting it right, hips that pushed with a lot of energy. Some barely legal kid, probably. He blew in a few seconds, but it kept on going. He finally pulled out. Men clapped. When I was sure he was done, I raised up - A little push. This time, an older man. You can tell sometimes, because the hands stroke your ass with reverence, with appreciation, with gratitude for the gift they know they are about to receive. Fingers knew what to touch, and where. I know I gasped, and I know my face betrayed the reactions running through my body (it always does - remind me to tell you about the time with the lumi-lights). The fingers (multiple) took the time to visit my prostate and then stroke me to dripping before he mounted me. Viagra or no, he had no problem staying hard or completing the act, which he did with a shuddering sigh and pulses that I felt all through me. When he was done, there was silence in the room, and no one seemed to move. I felt a wave of contentment. I had not anticipated the chance to serve so many, nor the exquisite rush of having a roomful of eyes watch me do it. I pushed my torso up from the bench - A little push. What? A built guy positioned himself in front of me with his cock at mouth level. "Suck it," he said. I couldn't raise my head enough to see his face, and he was insistent enough that as soon as I opened my mouth even a little he jammed his cock into it. I lavished my tongue all around it, let it explore the hollow of my throat, but he quickly pulled it out again. "See this cock?" he said, turning it sideways so I could examine its thick, veiny purple size. "This is going into your ass, and then it's going back in your mouth." He disappeared from in front of me and I quickly felt his strong hands cleave me apart and position his cock to piston into my cunt. He was rough, and he took his time. My head bobbed up and down and my back arched from the brutality of the raw fuck. When he finally burst, he did it with a barking shout and yanked my hips back as hard as his muscled arms could bury him into me. After the pulsing stopped, he circled back around, panting, and said, "This was in your ASS," and thrust it into my mouth, tasting of cum, sweat and ass. I cleaned it off with my tongue. When he left, he smacked me on the ass. I lay there for a few moments, worn out. Not only unexpected, but more than I had had in mind. I gratefully got up - A little push. In all, twelve men fucked me on that bench. I have to assume the first two in some way silently invited the other ten to use what they had appropriated as their free giveaway cumhole. I don't understand the dominant male mind that finds such a thing a turn-on... I'm just glad they do. I wish more did. I wish more men would feel free to give me a little push. That's all it would take, any time. If you're a top who would enjoy doing something like that, can you explain what that feels like for you? Why you would enjoy doing it? I really want to understand. And if you're a top who wants to try it...

In July 2011 I got pneumonia. No big deal; I went to the doctor, got treated. The odd thing was, the next month I got it again. My doctor said, "Nobody gets pneumonia twice." But he treated me anyway and sent me home. Later in August I got a cracking headache, worst I've ever had. My brother had to take me to the emergency room, but they sent me back home. By the next day, I was at the doctor again, and an astute nurse spotted the signs of possible meningitis. Back to the hospital. Long story short, by early September I had been diagnosed with fungal meningitis, and had nearly died from two small strokes related to it. I lay in my hospital bed and one morning a small United Nations of doctors from different nationalities lined up by my bedside and delivered their verdict. "You have AIDS." "What?" "You have AIDS." "Are you saying I have HIV?" "No, AIDS." (The guy didn't pull any punches.) My C4 count stood at 49. My new infectious disease specialist put me on ART immediately. I've been on Atripla, Triumeq, and now Genvoya. I've had shingles, and watched my body shape change as a result of the meds, and have had to change my lifestyle because the meds have given me a case of med-induced diabetes. Many things about all this suck ass, and not in a good way. I tried to figure out how this could have happened - I had gotten tested regularly. My tests had been negative. There had been no indication at all that I had had HIV in my system that could have turned into AIDS. I had been careful. But not careful enough. I knew that. I had no idea who had given me this, and would never have any way of knowing. There had been too many men. The most likely time had been the day I took 34 loads in my ass, probably without a single condom; there was no way of knowing. There had been other times, many other times, but every time I had been tested, the tests had resulted in negatives. Not all of these were over-the-counter tests, either. Two years earlier, my doctor had hospitalized me for a mystery illness that he chalked up to some unnamed virus that came and went. At the time he gave me a full-bore HIV test, which came back negative. Yet I'm now certain that that "mystery illness" was my seroconversion. I quizzed my doctor later: How could this have happened? I had been under his care for years - how could HIV have flown under his radar long enough to have turned into AIDS and nearly kill me without his seeing it? He explained that the problem with modern HIV testing isn't just false positives, but also false negatives. The truth is, the science just isn't good enough yet to give us certainty in diagnosis. I was just unlucky as I could possibly be. On the other hand, I was as lucky as I could possibly be. I survived. I've now been undetectable for over a year, and have not missed a single dose of medication since I began three years ago. My cell count is now at 300, which is not too bad for someone my age, and it may improve. I don't hold any bad feeling toward the man who gave me HIV. I hope he discovered his infection soon enough to be treated before it wrecked his immune system. In honesty, I can't say that I regret the behavior that resulted in this, because the day I took 34 loads was a highlight of my sexual life. I would do it again in a moment. What I will never, ever do again is top anyone. I will put no one at risk. I will not be the one who passes this down the line. This blog is called News From The Front Lines because we are at war with an Enemy, and I am committed to fighting that enemy inside my body, and in the world outside. I will use my words, and I will use my body as the means to fight, and if I can prevent even one person from ending up where I am now, then I will have justified my survival where so many others have died. More dispatches to follow.

"When can I flood your hole with sperm?" That was his first message to me... Well, I was hooked! I showed up at his place a few hours later, got naked immediately and was led into the bedroom and ordered on hands and knees at the edge of the bed. He told me to take a couple of deep hits of poppers, and then it began... He had warned me in advance that he had no interest in fucking a dry hole, so he had been saving up loads in his freezer and they were now thawed out and about to be injected into my hungry ass with a plastic syringe. As he slowly loaded me up he informed me that the syringe held 10 loads, and I was literally moaning with excitement as I felt my hole get wet and ready... He rubbed the last drops around my hole, and then he began pushing his hard cock inside me. He ordered me to be still while he entered me - but I couldn't resist the cock and roughly pushed my ass backwards, taking him all the way to the base of his cock. He didn't seem to mind, though, and began encouraging me to fuck myself on his hard cock. So I did! Pulling slowly away from him and then slamming hard back, giving myself a rough fuck and enjoying the sound of his hard cock in my wet hole. Cum was leaking from my hole, slowly trickling down my balls. I was in heaven! Suddenly he gave me a couple of hard thrusts and then pulled out. Again I felt a syringe at my hole, and this time he told me there was another 8 loads - so that was 18 loads in me and he hadn't even cum yet, so I knew I'd get one more. I was struggling to keep them all inside me, but fortunately he soon plugged my hole with his cock again - and this time HE was in charge of the fucking! A firm grip on my hips, and then he went to town on my ass, slamming into me hard and as deep as he could get! The feeling of a hard cock banging away in a hole soaked in cum is just amazing - and as he kept changing the angle of his thrusts I slowly became not only wet but also sloppy and open, giving very little resistance when he hammered into me. Finally he began groaning as he added a fresh load to the 18 I already had in my ass... So fucking hot! He ordered me down on my stomach so the loads wouldn't leak too much, and to my surprise he forced a medium-sized butt plug inside my hole and then told me to leave and keep the plug in my hole through the night so I wouldn't waste his sperm! So now I'm sitting with a plug and 19 loads in me as I'm typing. Soon I'm off to bed - and he has ordered me to send him a pic tomorrow morning of the plug still in me. Eventually I'm to return the plug to him - and take another fucking and however many loads he happens to have saved up by then...

Sup guys, so I guess I'm making this my introductory post. I'm Dogmeat. I'm a White Trash, Sagger, Drug Whore, who's got a constant craving for cock. I'v discovered I have no real limits, and some interesting fetishes (Melolagnia - check that shit out). I love sagger boys, drugs, consider myself white trash and live the life to some extent. I've done some twisted, fucked up shit and still have lots I want to expereance.