Leaderboard

19. Steven’s door was closed again when I arrived back upstairs, and Blake wasn’t sitting at his desk. I knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened just a little bit by Blake. Seeing it was me he grinned and opened the door the rest of the way. He was mostly dressed but his shirt was unbuttoned to just above his pants. I slipped in, and was immediately grabbed by Steven. He was completely naked and hard. He kissed me deep on the mouth as Blake closed the door and locked it. Their hands ran all over my body, quickly stripping me down to my underwear. Blake pushed me forward, I felt his hands grab the fabric covering my cheeks and pull. He ripped my underwear apart exposing my ass but leaving the front. I was now in little more than a jock. Blake stripped off all of his clothes then grabbed my hips to push me forward. He quickly worked the plug out of my hole and I felt cool air wash up into my exposed guts. Steven broke our kiss and sat in a chair against the wall. “Come sit on my cock.” I practically ran over and jumped on his cock, straddling his legs and sliding down on his cock in one go. He groaned as I bottomed out, “Fuck, this pussy is adapting so quick. You feel so fucking soft and perfect.” Blake pushed me forward, forcing my chest into Steven’s. He slid forward under me, changing out angle. Blake’s cock was then at my hole next to Steven’s. I took a deep breath and relaxed. Blake groaned, his cock slowly slipping into my hole right next to our boss’s. I gasped as Blake’s pubes pressed into my ass. The fuck that followed was merciless. The two of them pounded into me together, their cocks moving like one massive tool. I felt like Jell-O. My body had gone slack. I was just a rag doll for them to use. My hole felt beautifully stretched. Blake had his hands on my shoulders pushing harder and harder into me. Steven was pushing my hips back down on their cocks, keeping me trapped. They were grunting deep and low, and I was moaning like a whore. My cunt was a gaping mess. “Fuck boy, I’m going to fill you up again,” Steven grunted. “Breed my hole! Please give me another load.” “I’m going to cum too. His hole feels too good.” “You feel so fucking tight with both of these cocks in you.” “It’s the only way I can feel tight right now.” “We’re going to ruin your cunt.” “I think I’m already ruined.” “Oh no, you’re not yet.” “Oh fuck! I’m going to,” Blake roared, and stopped fucking me. His cock pulsed against Steven’s cock and his load pumped into me again. That pushed Steven over the edge and he started to twitch and spray his load into me too. For a long moment we all stayed there. I was practically shaking. Then slowly Blake pulled out. Steven held me in place, his cock still lodged in my cunt. I heard Blake in toy drawer again and then he was back behind me. He pulled Steven’s cock from my hole and I felt the cold wetness of a big toy being pushed into my hole. It felt longer than the plug, and fatter. It certainly had almost no taper to it. It felt like he had just shoved a coke can up my ass. I was panting. Smack! Blake slapped my ass. “Fuck, Steven he just took the 3 inch egg.” “Damn, wow. Ok. On the couch boy.” On unsteady legs I unmounted Steven’s lap and moved over to the couch. The plug pushed even deeper when I sat down and I let out a little gasp. They both stood in front of me, their cocks semi hard and shining with cum and ass juice. “I didn’t expect you to be able to take that today,” Steven said. “Your pussy just wants to be wrecked,” Blake added. “I guess it does, but now I have to think of some other things to do to you. We promised to send you home at the end of work with a completely wrecked pussy.” “Oh, I’ve got some ideas,” a wicked smile flashed across Blake’s face.

Part 6 "Who do you think knocked you up? Jerry can't since he's on meds. I decided if anyone was going to do it, it should be me. I know that sounds kind of selfish, but Dennis said it would bond us even closer" I replied. We talked while his cum soaked into my guts and I explained everything. "Don't blame Dennis, he may have suggested it, but I was the one who made it happen. I wanted to be the one and not some random stranger... or even a friend" I told him. He rolled us on our sides, spooning me with his arms wrapped around me tight, sobbing "Thank you" over and over until we fell asleep. People at work looked concerned when I got there, but my upbeat attitude told most that I was OK, and the few that inquired I told that things were great. They had noticed that I was distracted the previous few weeks after calling in sick for several days, which I had never done in the years I'd worked there. We went in on Saturday to get the numbers and a suggestion for treatment. Tom was told to avoid any sexual encounters and I was told to limit myself to safe sex regardless if the other person was poz. I'm pretty sure that the doctor knew I wasn't going to follow his instructions, much less his treatment plan. "So... what did you tell all those poz tops that wanted to breed you when you were convinced that you were still neg?" I asked, my dick firmly planted in his ass the next day. Tom chuckled. "One wants me to recharge him, two others offered to let me join them with the next chaser they found. The last was actually pissed" he said. "You were pretty intent on pozzing me when you thought I was neg. Are you going to find someone else to gift?" I asked. "No... I think I'm going to be a poz cum dump from now on. I'm not a great top and I like taking dick too much. Do you still want to be open or am I the only one to get your charged loads?" Tom asked. "I still think we should be open. The only time it was a problem was when you were trying not to get infected. That's not an issue any more and I love fucking you when there's a load inside you. What about you?" I asked. "Open, definitely. I promise not to go psycho again, unless I don't get any dick. Yours or someone else's" Tom said. "Good. I will guarantee two things, you'll keep getting my dick and you won't be the last guy I knock up... just the first" I told him. -- The first few weeks after Tom had joined club poz, we only had sex with each other. The vibe was like it was when we first met. Neither of us had realized that we'd slowly fallen into a rut when we fucked and both made comments to each other about how much better it was. When we finally went back at our usual bar we were the most popular guys around. It had been a couple months since we had gone out socially. We didn't need to buy a drink all night and there were guys I'd never talked to coming up telling us "congrats!" Word spread quickly and I know it wasn't from us. Some would dance around the topic until they'd ask if we were still toxic or had gone on meds right away. Most seemed to be happy we'd decided to wait a while. After a few nights at the bar I had almost twenty new contacts in my phone, all wanting to hookup some time and roll the dice. When there was a lull Tom turned to me and asked "Can I change my mind?" I laughed and said "No. There's no going back. Even if you could, I'd just knock you up again." Tom laughed and replied "That would be so fuckin cool, but that's not what I meant. I think I want to top some and not just be a cum dump. The more guys beg for my load, the more I want to do them." "That, you can change your mind about. I've got my first lined up for Monday, so you have at least that night free" I told him. He was so excited when I agreed I think he shot a spurt of cum into his jeans right then. I know there was a wet spot on them. When it got near to closing time, Tom headed to the bathroom to recycle some beer. I got another phone number from a guy who said he'd been chasing for almost a year. "All the poz guys I can find are undetectable" he groused. When Tom came back, there was a drip of cum on his cheek and I said "One guy didn't have very good aim" as I scooped it off his cheek and licked it up. "I'm lubed and ready for when we get home" Tom replied. This was our new sexual freedom. Sometimes we didn't wait to hookup, a quickie in the bathroom was just as good. The chaser on Monday was a fun time. He was a couple years older than me and muscled, but he moaned like a bitch when I rimmed him and squealed like a little pig when I pounded him. He begged for my bug filled load several times while I fucked his muscled ass. He got two loads planted in his hole and swallowed whatever he could lick off my dick after. He even wanted to meet the next day, but Thursday was the soonest I could make it. Tom was waiting for me when I got home, grinning and excited. "I hope yours was as fun as mine. It felt so good to shoot my charged load into his neg hole" Tom said. "Not as good as when I shot mine in yours" I replied. "Maybe. I think mine had second thoughts, though, but my dick stayed hard after I bred him the first time, so I kept going until I gave him a second load. We'll see if he wants to meet up again" Tom said. "The guy I just bred wanted to meet tomorrow, but I pushed him off til Thursday. Tomorrow I'm meeting Dennis to breed his ass for the first time since he knocked me up... Want to join in?" I asked. Tom smiled and replied "That would be fun." "Be sure to save up for the party on Saturday afternoon, but I'll invite him over instead of going to his place tomorrow" I told Tom. -- "Welcome to the club, stud. I wish we'd been the ones to knock you up, but I know Dennis is really happy to have done it. We should all can get together sometime and swap our strains" Tony said. We were sitting around Dennis' place, waiting on a chaser to show up. He flaked and Tom volunteered his ass to take all of the pent up loads. Everyone told him he was being greedy and with some encouragement from Rico and Tony, I ended up on all fours next to him. It was a new experience getting fucked next to my boyfriend, but we both enjoyed it. Tony and Rico were both bigger than Dennis and way bigger than Tom. They were both much better tops too. I knew I'd be hurting for a few days though. I got a load each from Rico and Tony, while Sean, Dennis and his nephew's buddy bred Tom. "You got a sweet ass for a top" Rico told me before adding "I hope that's not the last time I get to tap it." "Only after I get to recharge you and Tony" I replied. When we got home, Tom and I fucked for another couple hours, sucking and fucking until our balls were empty again. I fucked the cum out of him and then licked it off his chest and face. -- It had been a strange couple of months since Tom and I had converted. Our open relationship was working just like it had when we first tried it. We were meeting a lot of guys and having some great encounters with them before having some amazing sex together. Patrick and Dennis had introduced us to a lot of poz guys, some on meds and other that were, like us, not. While my attitude has always been pretty laid back regarding STDs - shit happens and deal with it - this was affecting me differently. Knowing that I was poz and viral had me looking at hookups in a whole new way. I was understanding Dennis' comments about the virus attacking me mentally. It just happened in reverse order than with Tom. The attraction I had to a guy had a new dimension to it based on his status. Negative bottoms not on PrEP were top priority, closely followed by unmedicated poz tops. Unmedicated poz bottoms were in the middle and the protected ones were last. Yeah, I found that I liked to bottom for guys that had a strong viral load to give me. I didn't say anything to Tom about it but one night I found myself bent over the urinal next to him at the bar, getting fucked. It turned him on and when we went home that night, he fucked me for the second time since he found out he had converted. He was much better than the other time he fucked me and I put it down to all the practice he'd been getting breeding chasers. "I take it Dennis isn't the only guy to fuck you lately" Tom said. "No... but since he's undetectable again, I've had to find some alternatives to get my fix" I replied. "If you keep bottoming, I might need to become a top to keep the universe in balance" Tom said, laughing afterwards.

I wanted to push my limits as a boy and try more kinky stuff, so i met a daddy online with loads of chems and a play room to push my limits. He was late 50s tall with a 9 inch cock, we start talking and arrange a meet, i knock his door really nervous i step inside and daddy grabs me and pins me down then slams me with a 1g needle of t, im instantly rushing tingling all over, he drags me to his playroom shuts the door then forcefully strips me naked then makes me snort 3 huge lines of c, then pulls his cock out and facefucks me till its hard. His cock is huge and so hard he pulls out my mouth then ties me up and says. " im gonna fuck ur hole now boy " " im a virgin your cocks to big i mumble" he laugh and pulls out another. 1g needle of t then injects it straight into my hole, im so high and helpless i can barely move, daddy gets on top of me and lines his cock up against my hole and says " boy im poz im gonna fill u withh my toxic load and make u my slave" Dontf i mumble please dont. He rams his cock deep inside me and starts thrusting me hard im moaning so loud he keeps fucking me harder and deeper, he keeps going presses his face against mine " boy im gonna abuse u take my toxic load " then shoots his load deep and floods my hole he pulls his cock out and watchs my hole drip his poz load. " good boy ur daddies boy now how are the chems " " i slurr there good im so high " Part 1

Yes many on one can be boring when you're not in the action. With a versatile orgy there's always loads going on for everyone!

Had a bit of a session at the local sauna the other night …i got myself in to a steam room with hairy ginger bloke …he was naked and his semi hard cock looked well tasty I was sucking him hard and getting my tongue under his foreskin …tasted great. another bloke joined us and I didn’t really take much notice Felt a hand on my bum and new bloke said “nice arse mate” then he’s got his face in my arse and is eating my hole …that was fucking hot and I look round to see a beefy bloke in his 20s/30s grin at me before he goes in for more Ginger says “mate don’t want cum yet” gets up to go After he’s gone the beefy lad said “get on your back on the bench mate” I do and he’s eating my hole ..balls and cock with my knees pushed up to my ears …he lets up to snog me for a bit and get 2 fingers inside me and is flicking his fingers on the right spot. he’s got a nice 6-7 inch cock nice curve to…. “Want me to use a Johnny ?” …”nah just fuck me” I said …”cool” and lines himself up ….he gets slowly balls deep …”oh mate that’s nice” …he fucks me on the bench for a good five min snogging me rubbing his hairy body against me…”oh going to cum in ya”…and he slams his cock hard in…and empties an good load in me” …”fuck mate I was going to wait till later”…he pulls out and leaves me with his jizz running down my arse. I get it together and leave the steam room and wander in to the showers to cool off a bit old bearded bear drying off …he’s bout my hight and twice as broad ..chest and his big round belly covered in white hair …and a serious cock on him soft at the mo with big balls…couple of tats on his chest and arms. Smile at him and he grins back at me..;grabbing his cock …I get on my knees and suck his flaccid dick till is getting hard …”want fucking son?” …I stand and we snog for a bit then he takes me in to one of the rooms and gets me on me back …his cock is a good 9” and thick ..big cock ring …snogging he fingers me “you been loaded already son?” I just nod “dirty fuck” …im grinding against his thigh and practically begging for it…lots me snogging and I'm biting his nip and he’s got a bar through it and a biohazard tat over it that I can make out through the hair …he gets me over his thighs …gently pushing my legs up and his wet cock is rubbing on my hole ….”want daddies dirty cock in you don’t you “ …I just pushed my bum down on his cock…took a deep breath as he went slowly balls deep and fucked me slowly for a good while stopping to snog me (loved the beard) then he went in hard fucking me faster….calling me a dirty boy 🙂 I started to cum and he’s saying “good lad take daddies load” and flooded my hole…grinding me till he started to soften …”clean daddies cock” so I did

Part 2: Will Accepts Dominic's Offer Two days went by before I receive an email from Dominic. During that time, I’d almost forgotten about him and the dream. I’d swung by my office after a late-day workout session at the gym and found the email waiting for me. “Hey, Pastor Ryder, thanks for emailing me back. I’m free to meet Friday after work if that works for you. I can be there around 4. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I feel like we had a good connection on Sunday. Email me back if Friday at 4 works. Thanks, Dom.” As I read the email, I was suddenly aware of how sweaty I was. I sweat easily, and the hair on my chest and in my armpits always collected odor if I wasn’t careful. My roommate in college complained about my laundry smelling. I never took any notice. Now, however, I was suddenly very aware of my own stink. I lifted my arm and turned my head, smelling my armpit. It was a ripe smell. I started to lower my arm when, instead, I lifted it back up and moved my face closer, taking in a big whiff. Ripe had never smelled this good before. It made my head spin. Slowly, I stuck my tongue out and ran it along the sweaty-drenched hairs, tasting myself. It was salty and a bit bitter, but I liked it. It tasted strong, and I wanted more. A knock on the door pulled me from my exploration, causing me to nearly jump out of my chair. I made sure I was collected before I said, “Come in.” It was Pastor Kline. “Hey, Will. Just checking in. How are you?” “I’m good.” “Have you had anymore of those dreams?” I shook my head. “Good. You look like you’ve just run a marathon. You’ll want to light a candle in here.” “I’ll do that.” I couldn’t tell, but, for a moment, I could have sworn I saw Pastor Kline inhale deep, a smile turning his mouth for a second. “Did you email that visitor?” “I did. We’re meeting tomorrow.” “That’s great news, Will. Well, I’m on my way home. My wife is making a meatloaf again. You’re free to join us if you want.” “Thanks, Mark, but I’ve got leftovers I need to take care of tonight. Some other time.” Pastor Kline left, leaving me to respond to the email. “Hey, Dominic. Friday works fine. Meet me at my office. Thanks, Pastor Will Ryder.” I went home and showered, relishing the feeling of the warm water. As I soaped up, I made sure to clean thoroughly around my balls, cock, and butt crack. As I cleaned, reaching my butthole, I found my cock shooting to life, standing at attention. I jumped, surprised by this never-before-felt feeling. I tried again, finding my cock growing and my balls pulling up to my body. Forgetting the bar of soap, I reached my hand back and ran a finger along the hole. A tingling sensation ran throughout my body, making my knees weak. I moved my finger in little circles, falling against the wall as I struggled to breathe from the waves of pleasure. I pressed against my hole, moving in rhythm, my body nearly shaking from the sensation. I increased pressure, pushing harder, until my finger slipped and entered inside. “Ah,” I gasped, removing my finger and wincing at the pain. I looked at my finger and found a small trace of blood near my nail. I must have cut myself. As the water ran down and mixed with the soap, I felt the stinging. There’s no way of putting a bandage down there, I thought, turning off the water once I was rinsed off. Even with the pain, I found my cock still hard. I considered jerking off but decided against it. I was too tired and had work to do. I was preaching Sunday and needed to be as prepared as possible. I’d lost track of time by 4 on Friday. I was nearly finished with my sermon when a knock on the door pulled my attention. “Come in,” I said. The door opened and Dominic stuck his head inside. “Pastor Ryder.” “Dominic Moore,” I said, standing up and reaching out a hand. “Good to see you again.” “You too,” he said, entering my office and shaking. “Please, just call me Dom. Everyone does.” “Alright, Dom. Call me Will.” “Will do, Will,” he said, smiling and taking a seat. He was wearing another black t-shirt, this time with a design on the chest of a skull with gems for eyes and the words “Dark Soul Tattoos” beneath. “I’ve heard of that place,” I said, pointing at his shirt. “I’ve never gone.” “I own the place,” he said. “You’re a tattoo artist.” “Nearly twenty years now,” he said. “Which I’m guessing isn’t too far off from your age.” I smiled. “I’m twenty-nine,” I told him. “Still young,” he said. For a brief moment, there was a look in his eyes which reminded me of the look I had seen in my dream. There was a ferocity, as if whatever was on his mind he wanted and was determined to get. “So, tell me about yourself,” I said. “I know you’re a tattoo artist. What else? Are you married?” “I’m not the married type,” he said. “I’ve had temporary partners, but none that last long. How about you? Are you married?” “I’m not,” I told him, holding up my left hand and showing the lack of a wedding ring. “I thought religious people were supposed to marry young so they could start fucking their brains out and popping out kids.” “Oh,” I said, taken back by his language. “Many do marry young and start families soon after. For myself, I just haven’t found the right person yet.” “I bet you’re close,” Dominic said. “Closer than you think.” I nodded. “I like to think so. So, tell me more about yourself.” "Like what?" "I don't know. Life philosophy?" Dominic laughed. “When I was younger, I tried to make good choices, but I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, destined to fall. After a while, I stopped trying. I found making bad choices felt more freeing. I liked living by my own rules, not worrying about my choices.” “And what about now?” “I’m not sure,” he said. “I think something is bringing me here.” I sat quietly, staring at him. “Really?” “Yeah,” he said. “I think you're meant to help me.” “Oh, right. Yes. Of course. I don’t doubt that for a second.” My eyes searched his arms, taking note of his different tattoos. There was a skull covered in barbed wire on his left arm along with a scorpion and a date. “Are you a Scorpio?” I asked. Dominic looked down at his left arm and smiled. “I am, funny enough.” “That date though, isn’t that in May. May birthdates aren’t Scorpios.” “No,” he said. “That date is for something else. I looked over to his right arm where there were several tattoos I couldn’t make out, except for markings along the inside of his forearm. “Are those tally marks?” He looked to his other arm and smiled, running his left hand along the tattoo. “They are.” “What are they for?” “That’s a bit complicated to explain,” he said. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.” I tried counting them. “How many are there?” “Almost fifty,” he said. “One away, actually.” “Maybe you’ll get fifty soon.” He smiled at me, the same ferocity from before filling his eyes. “Yeah. I think I will.” Sunday came, and as everyone left the sanctuary, I saw Dominic still in his seat, Pastor Kline hovering over him. I felt a concern growing and quickly jumped in. “How is everyone doing?" “Good,” Dominic said. “You’re a good speaker. Most times when I hear people speak, I get headaches after too long. That didn’t happen today.” “Will is a special man,” Pastor Kline said. “I knew that from the first moment I met him. Well, I won't take anymore of your time. I'll talk to you soon.” He shook Dominic’s hand, holding on for several seconds before letting go. Domonic waited until Pastor Kline was out of earshot to say, “Thanks for the save. He was getting a bit chummy.” “He’s a friendly guy,” I told him. “He’s like a second father.” Domonic raised a brow. “Interesting,” he said. “What is?” “Nothing,” he said. “Anyways, I wanted to thank you for speaking to me on Friday.” “It’s no problem,” I told him. “That’s what we’re here for. Anytime you need to talk. Myself, Pastor Kline, or Pastor Matthews are at your disposal.” “Good to know,” he said. “Look, I wanted to thank you for seeing me Friday. I hoped you’d take me up on coming over to my place for dinner tonight.” “Oh,” I said, surprised by the offer. “If you already have plans,” he said, “I’ll understand. I just wanted to talk some more. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have drinks and food. Do you like steak?” “I do,” I said. “So, what do you think?” I glanced out at the lobby and saw Mrs. Peters eyeing me, Rachel standing behind her. I could tell that they weren’t happy to see me talking with someone who looked like Domonic. “That would be great. Thank you.” “Awesome,” he said. “Here, put your number into my phone, and I’ll text you the address.” I typed in my number and started to add my name when he stopped me. “Don’t worry. I’ll add that later. I’ll see you tonight.” “See you then,” I said, watching as he left the sanctuary. I was not the only one watching as he left, but I was sure I was the only one struggling to hide a boner.

I have mentioned before that I am dating a much younger guy long-distance. He's a cute twink with long ginger hair and 8x6 cut. He's planning to move down here in about 6 weeks, so I am very stoked about that. Anyway, he took a week of vacation and came to visit last week. In the seven days he was here, he gave me 30 loads in my ass, 1 in my mouth, and 2 all over my face because he had never tried that before. I am pretty sure he has fucked me harder than any man ever has before.

Part 5 "How's my little bug chaser doing? Feeling ok? We skipped Tuesday's dose... I guess we'll have to start all over again" Jerry said as Tom sucked on his dick. Jerry winked at me when I pulled my shirt up, showing him the last bits of rash on my stomach. Saturday was a repeat of the week before. I was amazed at how much cum my body could shoot. I did some role play on a few fucks, making him beg for my toxic load. I hoped that Saturday marked the day I was no longer shooting blanks and the countdown had begun before Tom was converting like I just had. Jerry moved to a Monday/Wednesday/Friday breeding schedule from Tuesday/Friday. Mine was seven days a week. Our sex had the energy it did back when we first met, but a week later I could tell that Tom was getting restless. "I know that I agreed with you, Patrick and Dennis that I should know who the guy that pozzed me is, but I'm wondering if Jerry is that potent or even poz" Tom said after Sunday morning's fuck. "Give it a little more time. You heard Dennis tell you about his nephew's friend and that it took over two months for him to convert" I said. I prayed that my newly minted bug would get him a lot sooner. Hoping to drag him a little longer, I added "Only a month til our anniversary. Hopefully you'll get a big gift." I watched Tom smile. He kissed me and said "I can't believe you didn't dump me when you found out I wanted to get pozzed. Thanks for being so supportive" Tom said. "You're welcome but you should thank Dennis too. He's the one that explained a lot of stuff to me. He really hated seeing us falling apart and told me I needed to encourage you" I told him. My cock pushed back into his wet hole and I gave him a slow sensuous fuck for the next forty five minutes. "Are you going to keep fucking me bare after I convert? Or are you going to stop until I'm undetectable?" Tom asked as we laid there with another load in his ass. "I doubt I could wait that long. Dennis did say it was really hot fucking a guy that was converting. I'll keep fucking your poz ass just like I have your neg one" I replied. He waited a minute and looked back at me. There was a twinkle in his eye and he asked "I heard some bottom guys get the urge to top once they convert. I'd like to try fucking you when I'm poz. OK?" I chuckled and replied "We'll see." Tom had never topped me in all the years we had been together. I may have swallowed hundreds of his loads, but I don't consider that bottoming. Immediately I knew that he wanted to charge me up so we'd be toxic together. If I had doubted Dennis' plan before, I didn't any more. When Jerry showed up on Monday night I left the two of them in the living room and wandered back to the bedroom to surf. It had gotten boring watching them and Tom said he was doing just enough to get the load. The next two nights when Jerry showed up were the same and I fucked Dennis at his place instead of watching lame sex. The weekend was when it was fun. Tom and I fucked half of Saturday and then hit the stores to replenish the house. I almost dragged him to the bathroom at the grocery store to fuck another load in his ass, but it was busy. The guys that came out were laughing and unfortunately there were a couple more in front of us so instead of waiting for someone else have a quickie, we just finished shopping and went home. Actually, we went home and fucked like rabbits. I'm sure the ice cream had started to melt, since we only got a few things put away before I had him bent over the counter forcing my bare cock back into his hole. Jerry was getting as bored as Tom was. Monday's fuck was quick and he was heading out the door fifteen minutes after he arrived. At least he gave me a nice lubed hole to drop my charged load into. There was so much cum on my bush and running down our legs, I think I forced all of his useless cum out and replaced it with my more potent seed. When I got home from work Wednesday, Tom was laying on the couch. The pained moans coming from his mouth made me grin briefly until I knelt down next to him. I remembered all of the things that I felt when I converted and it appeared he was now experiencing them. Dennis looked after me those first two days and I did the same for Tom. When Jerry showed up at eight, he took one look at Tom and said "My work is done. Be sure to share" and left. Normally, I hate feeling a body next to me in bed radiating enough heat to melt glass, but that night it turned me on. The last thing he needed was sex, yet I wanted to feel my cock plowing into his fevered hole. I wondered if Dennis enjoyed fucking me while I converted as much as I did fucking Tom. I took the next two days off to take care of him. He took longer to recover than I did and I probably didn't help him by fucking him a couple times a day and wearing him out. "Thanks for sticking by me. I guess this isn't gonna scare you away" he said Saturday evening, hugging me tight before he passed out again. I wondered how I was going to tell him that I was the one that pozzed him and that Jerry was just a ruse. Sunday he looked a little better but it took until Tuesday night where he was close to his normal self. "I heard it could be bad or I might never know when I converted, but that royally sucked. I guess I need to go and find out for sure, but from the stories I've heard I'm probably poz now. I'll understand if you want to find a more compatible partner" The sex that night was the most passionate we had ever had. I came three times in him. I showed up after work the next day with two of the drug store HIV tests, knowing they would probably tell us we were negative. He really looked disappointed when they did. We were back at hard, rutting sex that night where I told him "I'm gonna fuck the last neg load out of your dick!" He complimented me on my role play later, but was really depressed. I had hoped that it would spur some more nasty role play, but it did the opposite. The next few days, got him another load or two and he slowly got more involved. Sunday night, after a weekend of mostly sex, he said "I guess I need to find another guy to charge me up. Do you mind if I invite some guys over? I talked with a few online that said that they're so fucking toxic that one load will do it." "No, not at all. I find it really hot to watch you get bred by other guys before I fuck you too. But..." I told him, stopping mid-sentence. He looked back at me, waiting for me to continue. "I think instead we should go to the clinic and get a real test first. I heard the over the counter ones are only accurate a few months after you've converted" I said. He sighed and replied "OK." We hit the clinic in the neighborhood the next day. I'm pretty sure I wanted to fuck every guy there. Patients, nurses, the receptionist and the doctor. We both got poked, prodded, fingered, and drained of a few vials of blood. Everyone was professional and it was about as clinical as it gets and yet my dick was hard the entire time. Even the doctor made a comment about it. "I guess that works fine" he said, chuckling. Tom wasn't as excited and we went home to wait for our next appointment. The next couple days were hard and his libido had cratered. Tom's attitude was very different on our ride back home on Wednesday after we got the results of the more accurate test. He had gotten the news about the same time I did, just in different exam rooms. While I had assumed that the horrible flu was the definitive indication that I was no longer neg, Tom was the pessimist. He had gone through the roller coaster of emotions that almost destroyed our relationship and wasn't going to leap to any conclusions. My trick of giving him the OTC test had backfired and convinced him he was still neg after dealing with almost a month of Jerry's and my loads. He was so engrossed in finding out he really was poz that he never asked me what my results were. The moment we got back to the apartment, he was ripping off his clothes and pushing me towards the bedroom. I had never seen him that aggressive and never wanting to be the top. His prep consisted of four gobs of spit and less than a minute of fingering my once again tight hole. His dick followed almost right away and it hurt. Tom wasn't a good top and he rushed so fast to fuck me, he made it even worse. While I was in pain, I didn't put up any resistance. In less than ten minutes I got his first load. He kept fucking and his dick never got soft. I knew he was planning on trying to poz me that day and it turned me on a lot more than I expected. A second before he pumped his third load in, I cried out "Breed that poz ass!" He thrust in deep, unloaded and then asked "What did you say? You're poz too? How?" I laughed and laid there, feeling his viral cum and cock in my ass.

Notice: The author does not consent to anyone using the characters or plot line of this story for any derived work, whether the author is still active on this site or not. They are not abandoned nor placed in the public domain. Another short one, but since I'm still working on the last chapter it may get longer. The following story is complete fiction. It never happened and any similarity to real life people/situations is a bizarre coincidence. Part 1 Tom and I had been together for six years and had been living together for four. Both of us were in our early thirties (33 for me, 32 for him) and we complemented each other. He was the outgoing, social one and I was close to being an introvert. I stood in the back and observed and then jumped in when I felt comfortable. He was fashionable and kind of fit the smooth gym bunny stereotype and I was the slightly hairy, nerdy guy with glasses and a beard. I was in IT guy, after all. The sex was what made it really work. He was a bottom with a hot ass and some amazing muscle control. We both could get aggressive in bed, or wherever we were fucking, and he liked feeling my thick eight inches pounding into his ass until he got filled with my cum. I liked being on top and while I had bottomed a few times, I didn't really enjoy it. We opened our relationship a year ago after drooling over some other guys at the bar. I think the conversation went something like me asking Tom "You've been staring at that guy for the past hour. Do you want a free pass to go see if he wants your sexy butt?" and him replying "Only if you go find some hole to tap too." He went home with the guy and wandered back home about ten the next morning. I spent the rest of the night plunging my dick into four different guys in the restroom. The last one was our friend Dennis, the city's horniest ginger cub. The last time I fucked Dennis was right before I met Tom and once my dick was back into his ass all those memories came flooding back. "What's the deal? Did you two break up or finally open your relationship?" Dennis asked after we made our way back to the bar to order something to quench our thirst. "I think we're trying to see if we're ok screwing other guys and then going back home together" I replied. "Except he left with the other guy and you stayed here trying to fuck every slut that bent over in the bathroom" he said, winking at me. "I didn't hear you complain when my dick went back in your ass after all these years. How many loads did I sink my dick into? You were pretty fucking sloppy... I would have lasted longer if it didn't feel so good with all those stranger's loads in you" I replied. "Five and then yours for six. I hope that's not the last time that happens" Dennis said before giving me a quick kiss and going home. The next morning when Tom came home, we had some of the most amazing sex. That evening at dinner we both agreed that open was the way to go and that we'd tell each other if we found we were getting too attached to our other partners. Little did I know that wasn't going to be the problem. Getting attached was never a problem for me since, other than Dennis and Tom, I didn't really fuck the same guy more than a couple times. It was a big advantage of being a top around here, since there were so many bottoms. Sometimes we'd tell each other about our hookups and other times we didn't. I think it was the good ones we talked about more, but if one of us had tried something new we'd see if the other one might be into it too. One night Tom came back a lot sooner than I expected. It kind of pissed me off since I was still looking for some hole to drill. "What happened?" I asked. "Dude told me he was poz now, right as he shoved his dick in me. It killed the mood for me and I got dressed and left" Tom said. I shook my head and replied "He should have told you that before you got naked. Were you going to play safe?" I asked. We both preferred to fuck bareback and we did with guys we knew well, but otherwise covered up. Well, he did... I think. Guys like Dennis I knew were poz, but they were undetectable and I never hesitated to fuck him bare. Tom's friend Patrick was the same, undetectable and had filled Tom's ass numerous times. "We had fucked several times before and the last couple were bare, but he was neg then" Tom replied. "Maybe. When was your last hookup with him? Do you know when he converted?" I asked. "About a month ago was our last fuck. I didn't stick around to discuss how and when he got pozzed" Tom replied, sounding a little disgusted that we were even talking about it. "Not much time between your hookups, then. He might have been poz the last time you fucked. It's about time for our regular tests anyway. How about tomorrow?" I asked. Unfortunately, Tom's mood ended any thoughts that I could fuck and fill him with my own load. Worse, I didn't think I could leave him for a hookup that night either, so I went to bed horny as fuck. For the first time, Tom was nervous when we hit the clinic to get our blood tests done. He wasn't much fun to be around and an even worse fuck that night. Dennis was happy to fill in when I decided I didn't want to fuck my boyfriend until his attitude improved. I guessed that would be when he got the test results in a few days. Indeed, when the results came back negative for both of us, he was back to his old self. I wondered how long that was going to last. Six weeks later he was freaked out again. Another negative test result and then two months later there was another freak out. I told him he was being a drama queen, packed some things and walked out with my suitcase full of a weeks worth of clothes. A hundred messages came from him, begging me to come back. After a few days I told him to meet me at a cafe to talk.

Don’t panic, I am here! 😛😈

“How are you this morning, Andrew?” Matt called as he saw Mr. Miller walking down to his mailbox. Matt had been mowing, his face red with sweat dripping down. His shirt was soaked through. “Hot day, isn’t it.” “Very,” Mr. Miller said. “How are things?” Matt rolled his eyes. “Tracy is driving me crazy, just between you and me. Honestly, I’m relieved she’s going to visit her sister next week. I need a break.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mr. Miller said, hiding his desire to smile. He stepped closer to Matt and looked him straight in the eye. “Molotov.” Matt’s face fell, a glazed look taking over. “Master.” Mr. Miller had decided not to keep Matt under his constant control. That would create for him a ton of work and even more things to cover up with Matt’s bitch wife. Instead, his infiltration of Matt’s mind could be set off by the use of “Molotov.” Like a Molotov cocktail thrown into a building, Mr. Miller had entered Matt’s life and was destroying everything from the inside out. It hadn’t been hard to do. A tension already existed between Matt and his wife. All they needed was something to push them over the edge. If all went according to plan, Matt and Tracy would be getting divorced within the year, allowing Matt to become another slave. Ruining their marriage was easy. One night Mr. Miller had invited both Matt and Tracy over for dinner. During their meal, he hypnotized them both. Nothing extreme. He simply instilled in their minds the instruction of not having sex anymore though blaming the other for the lack of fucking. Mr. Miller had already decided he was going to start fucking Matt, but he didn’t want to risk Tracy getting pozzed and starting a fiasco. Everyone would start asking questions. Instead, Tracy was left unaware of Matt’s poz status, that way there was no way for her to suspect Mr. Miller of ruining their lives. Plus, that would cut the risk of them having kids and causing their planned divorce to fall through. Matt had no memories of the fuck sessions he had with Mr. Miller. Matt didn’t even know that he was poz like Mr. Miller, carrying his strain. Sure, there were moments the following day when he wondered why his ass was so sore. When he converted, there was a bit of fear as to why he was so sick. The little details were managed by Mr. Miller, his doctor friend taking care of appointments and tests, but it was all worth it. As Mr. Miller inspected the tranced Matt standing in front of him, he smiled, happy to have had such a wonderful neighbor move in next door. “Matt,” Mr. Miller said, “when your wife leaves, you will come over to my house prepared to be fucked and to fuck. I have a surprise for you.” “Thank you, Master,” Matt said. “Have you been hiding your gym clothes from your wife like I commanded?” “Yes, Master,” Matt said. “Their smell is strong.” “Good,” Mr. Miller said. “I’m excited to smell them. For now, though, I’ll be taking your shirt.” Without hesitating, Matt removed his sweaty shirt, revealing a hairy chest beneath and a slight belly below. Matt had clearly been fit when he was Brian’s age, but now, ten years down the road, he had fallen off the wagon of working out consistently. Mr. Miller had made sure he started again, his weight already having gone down slightly. More than anything, Mr. Miller wanted the man’s sweaty clothing. He didn’t care if he lost weight. A hot fucker is a hot fucker. Mr. Miller hid Matt’s sweaty shirt behind his back and looked deep into Matt’s eyes. “Clover.” Matt’s eyes fluttered, his expression first showing confusion and then a smile. “Sorry, Andrew,” he said. “My head wondered off there. What were you saying?” “I just said congrats on your weight loss,” Mr. Miller said. “You’re looking good.” “Thanks,” Matt said, looking down and noticing he was now shirtless. “I thought I’d worn a shirt out.” “It’s too hot for a shirt,” Mr. Miller said. “Yeah, I guess it is,” Matt said, lifting an arm to wipe his forehead, revealing hairy, sweaty armpits. Mr. Miller had to stop himself from jumping his neighbor and burrowing his face deep. “Well,” Matt continued, “I’d better get back to mowing. See you soon.” Mr. Miller returned inside and shoved his face into Matt’s shirt, inhaling deep the smell of the man’s musk. While he was a top and an alpha, Mr. Miller’s love for the smell of men couldn’t be helped. It had started back when he was a kid and he’d find his dad’s workout clothes in the hamper. He used to take them and cover his face with whatever he could find and jerk off. Some things don’t change. He went to the basement and undid the locks, turning on the light. Walking down, he could see the televisions still playing. Brian was in his cage, curled up, his eyes closed. He approached the cage and looked down at his sleeping slave, admiring his smooth form. After taking in the sight, he pounded his fist down on the top, waking Brian. “It’s morning, slave,” Mr. Miller said. He undid the cage’s lock and opened the door, watching as Brian gathered himself and crawled out. A combination of sleepiness and the trance caused him to faulter slightly, but Mr. Miller found it amusing. “Put this on,” he said, throwing Matt’s shirt to Brian. “Thank you, Master,” Brian said, pulling the shirt on. Seeing his slave wearing his used jockstrap and Matt’s sweaty shirt gave Mr. Miller a raging boner. “It’s time to inspect my work,” he said. “Climb onto the bench and lie on your back.” Brian complied. “Legs up.” Brian lifted his legs, revealing the butt plug which was still firmly inside his ass. Mr. Miller took a hold of the plug and pulled it out, his slave shuddering from the pain of having it so forcefully removed. Mr. Miller slipped his fingers into Brian’s hole and pulled it open, looking inside his pussy. Remnants of his cum could be seen along with blood. He had done a number on Brian’s hole. Damage had been done. “Congrats, slave,” Mr. Miller said. “It looks like we made you bleed. Can’t say for sure, but I think I infect you with my poz cum last night. No chance of staying neg now.” “Thank you, Master,” Brian said. “But to be safe,” Mr. Miller said, “I think we should make another deposit.” He removed his clothing, revealing is rock hard cock. With the butt plug having been removed so recently, Brian’s pussy was slightly open, welcoming Mr. Miller’s cock. He lined up his dick and shoved inside, finding some resistance but nothing like the night before. “Fuck, I love your ass.” He leaned forward and pressed his face into Matt’s sweaty shirt, breathing deep, his head swimming from the smell. He pumped his hips, putting his weight on top of his slave, wrapping his arms around and holding his wrists. Fuck, I love my life, he thought, feeling Brian’s heart racing beneath him. He pulled his dick out and walked over to the trunk in which he had stored his used jockstrap and pulled out a leash. “Turn around on the bench,” he told his slave. “Chest on the bench. Straddle it. I’m fucking doggy style, as it were.” Brian did as he was commanded and turned on his chest, his eyes catching sight of one of the televisions as he did so. His focus stayed on the screen as his master hooked the leash to the collar around his neck. “I’m ready to breed you again,” Mr. Miller said, sliding his dick back inside his slave’s ass. He started his rhythm again, relishing the sound of skin hitting skin. He looked down and saw Brian’s balls resting on the bench, stretched out from his body having slipped out of the jockstrap. He wanted to stomp on them, to see his slave’s body contort from the pain, but he wouldn’t. Not yet, at least. He pulled on the leash, bringing Brian’s head back, arching his back. He wrapped the leash around his wrist, making sure it was tight as he continued fucking hard into his slave’s ass. “Who’s the best fuck you’ve ever had?” Mr. Miller asked. “You, Master.” “Who’s dick do you worship?” “Yours, Master.” “Who’s cum do you live off of?” “Your cum, Master.” “And who will you serve for the rest of your life?” “You, Master,” Brian said, eyes focused on the screen, his mind still diminishing from what he had been before. “Fucking right,” Mr. Miller said, pulling back on the leash as he unleashed a load into his slave’s ass. His body shook with each pulse, a deep growl escaping his mouth. He pulled his dick from Brian’s ass and grabbed the plug, shoving it inside. There was fresh blood on his cock, meaning there were plenty of cuts to allow his virus to take over his slave’s body. “Clean me off,” Mr. Miller said, thrusting his hips out toward his slave. Brian turned around on the bench and swallowed his master’s cock. While he would normally start to gag, deepthroating not being one of his specialties, the trance, along with removing his ability to scream, also controlled his gag reflex. He took his master’s cock down his throat, his tongue licking clean the cum from the night before, the fresh cum now swimming in his ass, and the blood which proved his life was no longer his own. “That’s enough,” Mr. Miller said, pulling his dick out of Brian’s mouth. “Time to start more training.” He went to the trunk and pulled out a chain on which there was a leather clasp attached. “Take off the jockstrap,” Mr. Miller said. Once his slave had removed the jockstrap, he wrapped the leather clasp around Brian’s scrotum as tight as he could, the young man’s testicles stretched out on the other end. “Perfect fit,” Mr. Miller said. “Wait here. I’ll be back.” Mr. Miller returned to the main floor and went to the room he had set aside as his weight room. He took four weights, all ranging in weight, and returned to the basement, waiting only a moment to stare out the window at Matt who was wandering around his yard, still shirtless. “I said I was going to stretch out your balls,” Mr. Miller said, showing Brian the weights. “With the money I’ll be getting from selling your things, I’ll be able to buy some stretchers to really get you going. Fuck, just imaging you crawling on the floor, your balls dragging behind you, so easy for me to step on, it makes me hard. Still, it’ll be a while before we get you there. For now, a little torture is possible in the meantime. On the ground.” Brian complied and crawled down onto the floor. Mr. Miller took the chain which was connected to Brian’s balls and latched it to one of the weights. He dropped it on the floor, watching as it pulled slightly on his slave’s scrotum. “Now,” Mr. Miller said, taking hold of his hardening cock and massaging life back into it, “Crawl around and don’t stop until I tell you to.” “Yes, Master,” Brian said, crawling forward only an inch before the weight pulled back on his balls, stopping him. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” Mr. Miller said. Brian moved forward, his balls pulling back toward the weight which didn’t want to move. Knowing he had to keep moving, Brian crawled forward, causing his balls to strain against the leather clasp. He couldn’t scream, but groans of pain escaped his mouth as he tried to move, but the weight’s hold on his balls wouldn’t let go. Face growing red, tears starting to form in his eyes, Brian leaned forward, mouth opening to scream a silent scream as the weight finally budged. “Keep going,” Mr. Miller said. “Faster.” Brian crawled forward again, the weight slowly moving. His balls were stretched back as much as they could go, the strain causing his scrotum to turn a reddish-purple, his testicles looking as if they would pop from the pressure forced upon them. Slowly, Brian moved three feet across the room, his arms and legs shaking from the pain. “Slave,” Mr. Miller said, his eyes watching as the young man struggled to continue forward, “For this time, I want to hear you scream.” As soon as Brian inched forward again, a painful cry of agony escaped his mouth. He cried again as he moved again, the weight still trying to remain behind as his balls pulled it forward. Mr. Miller closed his eyes and listened as Brian’s cries filled the basement. He could feel another load swelling up in his own balls, knowing that his slave’s balls were being tortured. Brian had almost reached the wall opposite the bench on which he had been fucked, his throat hoarse from screaming, when his master cried out himself. “Fuck,” Mr. Miller shouted, one hand on his dick while the other twisted his nipple. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” Several ropes of cum shot out onto the floor, splattering. He opened his eyes and looked to Brian who was staring at the fresh cum. “Eat up,” Mr. Miller said. He left the weight attached to Brian’s balls and left the basement, listening as Brian’s cries filled the space as he tried to crawl back to where he started, hoping to lick up the cum his master had left behind. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ What else do you want to see? Let me know.

So it's Friday night and I'm still at the sauna. This is what's happened so far... I arrived at about half 7, prepped, showered and started to wander. I went into a cubicle and this very chatty daddy followed me in. I say daddy as his vocabulary was all dad and son stuff, tho truthfully I was probably older than him, but I wasn't going to argue, he was hot! He was virtually hairless and had a nice toned body. Pert arse too. But this daddy was all top. His cock was thin but very long, hit some spots not used to an intrusion. He loved my hairy arse and very hairy body, feeling up my chest and bushy beard as he fucked me senseless. It was awesome. He was very chatty through all this, I initially thought he was on drugs but realised after a while it was just his personality. He groaned loudly as he bred my hole, which was well sloppy when he left. 10 minutes later I bump into him again, still rock hard and keen for round 2. It was a virtual repeat of round 1, only my hole was leaking cum everywhere afterwards. After half an hour or so, I bumped into him downstairs in the "suck a thon" area. His cock shot straight up when he saw me. He wanted to breed me yet again! I leaned over the bench and he went to town, shooting a 3rd load into me, all within an hour. That's a very rare occurance to happen to me. Another rare occurance was to be fucked by a BBC, which belonged to the most handsome lad imaginable. Where I live, African men are a minority so to see this handsome, muscular and hung black lad of maybe 25 was beautiful eye candy, but I didnt expect him to fuck me.. I was in the sling as usual and I felt a hand on my arse and hole. I didn't realise anybody was there as it was so dark. He attracted a bit of a crowd and I was admiring his physique in the dim light. He turned towards me and I felt his cock against my hole! Like wow! He started fucking me, lasting 5 minutes or so before blowing a load into me. He didn't leave tho, he liked to be fucked too. I was in the sauna and there was some attention around a well hung older chap. Alot of stroking was going on. I got into position, my arse out and a squat chap got behind me and started fucking me. The African lad was in the sauna too, he stood beside me and poked his arse out too. Well, it didn't take long before his hole was filled with cock. The top breeding me got a good eyeful and he blew a good load into me, around the same time the Black lad was bred. Totally hot. I've had another couple of loads in the steam room since, not bad for a Friday night. I'll sleep well tonight.

Just got back from swapping loads with this hot 20 something white guy with the most amazing piercing blue eyes. He said he was new to town and hadn't been fucked in a while and was needing it bad. He hadn't even unboxed his stuff, was sweaty from the move, did it on his bare mattress on the floor. We were making out and getting down to it and he said he didn't have condoms and would it be cool to do it without. I said it was and he laughed as he said he was hoping I'd want to do it that way as he really wanted my loads. He had a nice defined body, fair amount of ink and a nice tight ass. Made a lot of noise taking me and was loudly begging for my load. Blasted my first one in him doing him doggy and he rolled over on his back to take the second load, his legs over my shoulders and me pounding his ass hard. Loved looking in those pretty eyes as I popped the second one in him. Straddled his cock and rode him to take his load and he shot a massive one inside me. He needed a breather after that and smoked a cigarette and had me suck him clean while he smoked. I gladly did it and then he fucked another load in me doggy style. After we finished he asked if I wanted to get a pizza or something to eat, but I said I needed to roll...didn't want it to get too clingy or needy but said I'd be up for hooking up again, and so we swapped digits. He said he didn't usually let guys cum inside him (sure...) and I fibbed and said I didn't but he was hot and I wanted it bad, to which he smiled. Left there not showering and not caring, with both his loads still inside me.

This week I was at my favorite video store and took 4 loads within a two hour period. The fifth guy to fuck me was not huge probably 8 or 8.5. He said I was too sloppy and couldn’t cum. That was after only 4 breedings. I can only imagine how sloppy this bottom must be.

Part 3 He was right. I was hard and staring at Dennis' naked body wasn't making it go down. It took me less than a minute to shed my clothes and before I could sit back down, Dennis' mouth engulfed my cock. It was a more vigorous blowjob than he usually gave me. I would have thought that as baked as he was and having just gotten fucked, he'd be more laid back. He bobbed, sucked, and licked my dick for a few minutes before pulling off and looking up at me. He smiled briefly before turning to face the couch. With his chest on the cushions, his hairy ass called to me just like dozens of times before, but this time the call was really strong. I always liked to taste the cum inside a slut's hole and this time was no different. He was clenching his ass tight, trying to keep at least two loads inside. The moment my tongue hit his ring, he relaxed and a blob of cum leaked out. My taste buds were in overdrive, savoring the cream that was coating my tongue. A tongue that was soon poking inside his hole and getting covered in spooge. There was no need to lube up his pussy and my brain knew that, but I stood there a little longer just for the sheer pleasure of tasting the cum and his ass. My little head took over and soon was feeling the cum coat him when I slid my achingly hard cock into the slick chute barely a minute later. I slowly plowed in and out, trying to not force any of the pearly cum out. Dennis was always a verbal bottom, encouraging his tops to enjoy his pussy, fuck deeper, harder or faster. On rare occasions he would become a power bottom, but that was usually when he hadn't been fucked in a while. This time, the his comments emphasized the poz ass I was fucking. When I started to fuck him harder, he asked "Like that toxic swill your dick is plowing into?" and then he said "Rico just converted... his jizz is really potent" and then "Tony's is pretty hot too... only took a couple fucks to tag Rico." I laughed, mostly ignoring what Dennis was saying, since I enjoyed drilling the cum filled chute. "You want my neg seed in that slutty ass?" I asked, feeling him work his ass muscles around my cock as I got closer to orgasm. "Yeah, but for how much longer?" Dennis asked, followed by an evil laugh and a hard squeeze around my cock. That was all my body needed and I immediately began to shoot strong volleys of cum into the sloppy hole. I hadn't fucked in a few days and with work being crazy there wasn't time to even jack off. It made me shoot even harder than normal. "Damn... You needed to unload. Have you fucked anyone since you walked out on Tom?" Dennis asked after the last spurt fired out. "Just the night manager at the hotel. Bred him in the office while the desk clerk watched. Would have done the desk clerk too if some other guest hadn't rung the bell" I said as my breathing slowed. Dennis grabbed a glass butt plug off the table and forced it into his ass. My body felt better than normal after a good fuck but I still wanted to know about the solutions he had mentioned before we had sex. "So... what are your ideas?" I asked. Dennis got comfortable again on the other end of the couch and he reloaded the pipe. He took a long hit and passed it over. I took one too and by then he was exhaling the smoke. "Tom won't be able to forget about his thoughts of wanting to get pozzed. The thoughts are like the virus itself. They dig in deep and won't let go. Trust me, I've been there. I'm not the only one. Ask Patrick or Sean or Donny. Even Eli. They all went through it and fought it off until the virus was inside them too" he said. I nodded, slowly understanding what Tom had said. "You said you didn't like ultimatums or simple choices, but let me give you a suggestion. Get pozzed and be the one to give it to Tom. It will bond you closer than you could ever imagine" Dennis said. "You said a couple ideas. What else?" I asked, shocked that he'd even suggest something that insane. "Set up a conversion party. Get some viral tops to breed him all night. It might take a few tries to get the bug to take, but it's a fun time for all" he said. "Oh... and probably the worst idea is to find one of those [banned word] that will pay to poz up a guy. You take a chance that Tom will get attached to the guy that gave him what he wanted and you two break up anyway" Dennis added. "You don't think it's just a passing phase until he finds some other fantasy to hook on to?" I asked. Dennis shook his head 'no' and then said "As I said, I've been there. No matter what you try, it keeps coming back. Usually stronger and once you make it through all those other fantasies, guess what's still there?" What about PrEP? He can take as many of those viral loads as he wants and not worry about getting infected" I asked. "That will hold him for a little while, but as he gets used to getting bred full of toxic loads, the thoughts are going to come back. He'll either stop taking the meds or 'forget' to take them and end up with some random guy charging him up. I still think the first idea is by far the best. Patrick, Sean and I did the second one. It took us two parties to get charged up. It could have been we just needed that booster shot or the guys were more effective the second time. But... neither of us know who did it and I'd like a connection with that someone" Dennis said. A moment later, Dennis said "Donny went the prep route and it only delayed his pozzing by a year." Through my pot fogged mind what he was saying made a lot of sense. I had never worried too much about catching anything from guys I hooked up with. Six years with Tom as my only sex partner pushed that worry way, way back in my mind. I would never suck a dripping dick or fuck a hole with warts or sores, but otherwise the pleasure of fucking a guy was my priority. I'd caught a few of the regular STDs before I met Tom, but hadn't gotten any since we opened our relationship up. "You seem to really get off when I fuck you with poz loads in you. Why?" I asked. "Every time you've fucked me since you two opened your marriage I've had at least one unmedicated load in me. That's over a dozen times. You know that tops can get pozzed too, right? I was kind of hoping it would happen and you would give Tom the bug and end his chase" Dennis said. The marriage comment grated at me, but I knew that most of our friends considered us de facto married. Apparently gay guys that live together for more than a year are common law married, compared to seven years for straights. "What? How long have you known that's what he wanted?" I asked.

Do you shave? Bleach? Laser? Wax? Furry? Let’s see some holes out there. Love to see fellow bottoms and what they’re working with. Here’s mine, feel free to comment, rate etc…

Part 1: Will meets Dominic I’ve been one of the lead pastors at East Nondenominational Church for two years. I graduated from the seminary at 26, but I found it difficult to find a job at first. I was seen as too young by many. I finally found a church interested, one a few states away, and was possibly too eager when we scheduled a Skype call. “We’re very impressed, Will” Pastor Kline, the head pastor told me. He was in his fifties, short white hair. He reminded me of my father who was a pastor himself. “All your references speak highly of your orator skills. I believe you’d be a great addition to our church.” “Really? That’s great. Thank you.” Pastor Kline’s smile faded somewhat. “There is one thing that myself and Pastor Matthews are concerned about, however.” “What’s that?” “We all know that you’re young. And I’ve already assured you that this isn’t a problem. Our concern is that you aren’t married. Now, we know that not everyone gets married, but, seeing as you are a young man, and, may I say, good looking, it is sometimes awkward for members.” “Why?” “Young women in the congregation often seek out single pastors or they feel as if they’re prey to them. We just like to make this issue known beforehand.” “I understand, Pastor Kline,” I told him, feeling a bit awkward hearing him say that I was good looking. I was fit, spending a few hours at the gym each week, making sure I was healthy but not overly muscular. My brown hair and green eyes were often complimented by those I dated, but I never thought much about my appearance. “I’ve dated before,” I told him. “I had a long-term girlfriend in college. It just didn’t work out.” “I understand. We just want to keep everyone safe. We’d hate to lead anyone into sin.” “I agree,” I told him. “I’d never do anything to cause anyone to stumble.” Pastor Kline turned out to be correct. It didn’t take long before I spent every Sunday morning surrounded by women, dropping hints that they were single and interested in going on a date. Whether it was the clear desperation or not, I didn’t find myself interested. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Sure, I wanted to find someone and get married, have kids, but there was something in the back of my mind that kept me from pursuing this life fully. What it was, I didn’t know. Not yet, at least. A Sunday morning came when I stood out in the lobby greeting our members as they came in. I flashed my smile, shaking hands, avoiding the stares from the women who wanted me to propose. As I shook hands, I noticed a man enter the front doors that I had never seen before. He was a large guy, bald, around forty if I had to guess. He was wearing a short sleeve black shirt which showed off large muscles and hairy forearms, tattoos around his biceps. His black jeans were tight, showing strong legs. It wasn’t like we had never had anyone like him here before, but there was something in the way this man carried himself, something in his essence, that captivated me, causing me to take notice. Without realizing, I found myself drawn to him, seeking him out so that I could shake his hand. “Hello,” I said. “I’m Pastor Ryder. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” “First time,” he said, his voice low, a bit of a rasp. He took my hand and shook it. He had a firm grip. “I’ve driven past here for years. Decided to step inside for a change.” “I’m glad that you did,” I said. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes looking from my face and moving down my suited body to my shoes. The corner of his mouth turned into a grin. “Same here,” he said. “I’m not much of a God person.” “That’s alright,” I told him. “God finds us wherever we are.” “Does he?” I could tell that the man was playing a game, taunting me. I wasn’t easily aggravated, so I knew I could take whatever he gave out. “I don’t think I caught your name,” I said. “Dominic Moore,” he said. “Well, Mr. Moore, we’re glad to have you here. The service is about to start. Pastor Kline is preaching today. I think you’ll love to hear his message. If you have any questions for me, let me know. I’ll be here after the service.” “Is that a promise?” he asked. He passed me and entered the sanctuary, glancing back once and catching my eye. I stood frozen until I lost sight of him. I shook off whatever caused this momentary confusion and darted to my office. I had to sit down for a second, alone. I caught my breath, unable to understand why I was feeling so flustered. I had never felt like this before. I felt as if I had just worked out. My heart was pounding quickly, sweat collecting around my hairline. I checked my armpits and found that I had started to sweat through my dress shirt. While no one would notice, I felt uncomfortable. I had a change of shirt in one of my drawers just in case. I took it out and started to change. As I tucked in the new shirt, my hand grazing my crotch and I nearly collapsed from the sensation. It had been several days since I last jerked off, making me sensitive, but I’d never felt like this before. I tried to push down the need to touch myself, but found it difficult. I closed my eyes and started to breathe deep, calming myself. In my mind, the image of Dominic Moore standing in front of me was clear as day. I could see his chiseled face, his strong, tatted, hairy arms. I could feel his hand in mine. My eyes opened and I found my hand firmly grasping my cock. Shocked and a bit disgusted, I quickly finished dressing myself and returned to the lobby. I was going to pretend that nothing had happened, because nothing had. Everything was fine. Wasn’t it? Dominic was on top of me. His strong body, muscles rippling under sweaty skin, weighed down on me. His chest was covered in hair, his musk collected within the follicles. I could smell him, my head dizzy from the natural smell of man. His eyes were focused on mine. “How does that feel?” “Incredible,” I said. I glanced down and saw my legs wrapped around his waist, my cock and balls rubbing against his abs as he buried his enormous, veiny cock into my butt. I felt myself tearing open, as if every part of myself was opening up to him, allowing him inside me in every way possible. I felt full. I felt as if I couldn’t imagine existing in any other way. His rhythm increased as he started grunting, sweat covering our bodies. His cock brushed against my prostate, sending my cock into overdrive. I wasn’t even touching myself and I could still feel a powerful orgasm surging forward. “Ready, baby?” “Do it. Cum in me. Take me, Dom.” “Here it comes.” My eyes shot open as I started cumming. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My chest was heaving, my heart racing. I fumbled in the dark and turned on the lamp next to my bed. The light hurt my eyes at first until they grew accustomed. Searching the room, I found I was alone. Why was that a surprise? Of course I was alone. Why would someone be there with me? Who would be there with me? I checked the time. 4 a.m. I sat up, finding my sheets sticking to my body. I was sweating profusely. I threw off my covers and looked down, my boxers tented and soaked through. The smell of cum hit me, my head spinning from the sweet smell and the pungent odor of my sweating body. I was getting high off myself, something I had never done before. What was happening? I lifted the waistband and found globs of cum intermixed in my pubes, soaking into the boxer fabric. It had been a while since I had had a wet dream. I tried to climb out of bed to change, but I felt too weak. Collapsing back into bed, I closed my eyes and tried to remember what I had been dreaming about. “Here it comes.” Dominic Moore. I’d dreamt about Dominic Moore. I could see his face. I could feel the weight of his body on mine. I could smell his sweat. I could feel his hairy chest pressed against mine. I could feel his huge cock pumping into— I stopped, looking down at my hand. Without realizing, I’d scooped up some of my cum and brought it to my mouth, a few stray pubic hairs mixed in. I stared down at the mess, the smell of the fresh cum filling my nose. I’d never tasted my cum before. I’d never wanted to. It seemed gross to eat something that came out of your body. Still, something about the smell was intoxicating, sweet and inviting. My mouth slowly opened as I inserted my hand, running my tongue along my cum-soaked fingers. It was a taste unlike anything I had ever had. It was salty but also sweet. The warmth was inviting, as if I was returning it to where it belonged. I swallowed and savored the feeling, licking my lips. Then I realized what I’d done. My hand was shaking, the cum residue sticking to my skin. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, washing my hand and stripping off my boxers. I cleaned myself up as well as I could, but I couldn’t erase the image of Dominic Moore on top of me, inside of me. I couldn’t escape the feeling I had felt, wanting him there, wanting him to take me. I wasn’t gay. I’d never thought of another man like this. Why was I now? What was going on? After my dream about Dominic, I couldn’t get back to sleep. All I could do was see his face. I wandered into my office the next day in a daze. I sat at my computer trying to plan out my next sermon, but instead of God, all I could think about was Dominic. I tried to push past the dream, but my recurring erection kept me returning to the moment when I could see in Dominic’s eyes a sinister lusting unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I was mesmerized. “Will,” Pastor Kline said, knocking on my door. “Is everything alright?” “Yeah, fine,” I said, trying to supply a convincing smile. “Are you sure? I said hello when you walked by my office and you looked like you were in a trance or something.” “Nothing like that,” I told him. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” “You’re too young to be having sleeping problems.” “Nothing like that. It’s just… can I talk to you Mark?” “Sure,” he said, closing the door and sitting down. “What’s up?” “I’ve been feeling… guilty, I guess.” “About what?” “Well, um.” There’s no way I can tell Pastor Kline about my dream. What would he think? How would I even begin to explain? “I’m feeling guilty over a dream I had last night.” “A dream?” he said, staring at me until his eyes grew wide. “Oh, I see. A dream.” “I’ve felt guilty all day. I feel like I did something I shouldn’t have.” “Did you?” “Well, I guess not. Not really. I just had a dream.” “Listen, Will, you’re a young guy. That kind of thing happens to young guys. It still happens to me on occasion. Dreams are outside of our control. I’m guessing you…” I nodded. “Think of it as a freebee,” he said. “You didn’t do it to yourself. Sometimes, our bodies need to release and create a scenario in which it’s possible. You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me.” “Alright. If you’re sure.” “I’m positive.” He stood up and started toward the door, stopping just out in the hall. “By the way, there was a new visitor on Sunday who sent me an email, saying he wanted to stop by sometime this week and meet with you. He said you greeted him at the door and found you personable. He says he’d like to talk with you.” “Did you get a name?” “Dominic Moore, I believe,” Pastor Kline said. “Dominic Moore,” I said, my voice catching. “He wants to meet with me?” Pastor Kline nodded. “He said he enjoyed talking with you. I’ll forward you the email so you can respond.” “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to meet with him instead?” I asked, trying to restrain the worry in my voice. At the same time, I scooted closer to my desk, hiding the boner which was starting to form. “You are the head pastor after all.” “Will, you need to have confidence in yourself. This is a part of our job. When God sends us someone asking for our help, we need to welcome him in. Don’t you agree?” “Of course,” I said, faking a smile. “I’ll email him before I leave.” “I’ll send you his email.” Once Pastor Kline was gone, I slumped down in my chair, reeling as my hard cock smashed against the underside of my desk. How am I supposed to meet with Dominic when I can’t get through a conversation without getting a hard-on? Nothing made sense. I wasn’t gay, and yet here I was unable to think about anyone other than this man who’d I’d met once. I met guys at the gym all the time and never had issues like this before. Why now? And why did Dominic want to talk with me? There was no way I made that good of an impression. My computer alerted me to a new email. I opened it and found the forwarded email from Dominic. Everything Pastor Kline had told me was true. Dominic wanted to meet with me. I started a new email accepting the meeting, telling him to come to my office whenever it suited him best. Before I hit send, I looked at his email name and found “Hazard4U” on the screen. I guess we’ll see, I thought. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ I've got a lot of the story written, though it's not done yet. Not sure where it will end, but there is plenty more to come.

On Tuesday, I got a motel room and waited blindfolded and ass up. I posted on every site and app I use - BBRTS, Grindr, Sniffies, hell even Doublelist and Twitter. I started at lunch time and went until 5:00. Would have stayed later but I had an appointment to get to. What a day! My previous record was 10 loads in one day, but on Tuesday I smashed that with a new total of 15! It was such a rush every time a new, unfamiliar cock slid deep into my hole and released a big load. But the most memorable was #11, a guy who told me afterward that he's been hitting me up on Grindr for months and we just haven't been able to make it work so we could meet. When he first arrived, he didn't say anything. He might have been wearing shorts or sweats because I didn't even hear a zipper. But I knew I was in for a royal fucking when he started slapping his dick on my ass, then sliding the head up and down my slick crack. The head was huge so I took a few big hits from my brown bottle before I felt the tip stop at my well-used hole and begin to push in. It has been a LONG time since my insides were stretched that much. My hole is used enough at this point that most cocks slide in with relative ease, and if I want to give my top an extra thrill I can squeeze tight around his shaft, letting him feel the full luxury of my velvet grip. But with this guy, there was no squeezing. My hole was stretched to its utmost. This guy knew he was big, so he started slowly, inserting and then removing the tip. Slowly he worked it deeper, a little more with each gentle thrust until at last I felt his thighs against mine. He was balls-deep and it felt AMAZING. He rocked his hips back and forth, sliding out and in, gradually increasing the length of his strokes to let me get fully used to that giant piece of pipe. When he was confident that I was ready, he repositioned himself behind me and began an all-out assault on my hole. His hips slapped against my ass as he drove that cock deep into my guts, hitting my prostate with each thrust. I could feel the precum oozing from my own dick as he pounded me relentlessly, and I felt a wetness dripping down my balls as well. The assault on my hole continued for what seemed an eternity. I have never tapped out before but I was on the verge when he finally announced, "I'm gonna cum." I gritted my teeth and steeled myself for a few more thrusts as he gasped and went still, pumping his load deeper inside me than anyone else that day. At last he withdrew. I lay there motionless, recovering from the pounding I had taken. He quietly got dressed, thanked me, and headed for the door. Once it closed behind him I took the blindfold off and felt my ass. It was still gaped open and my balls were slick. Looking down at the sheets on the bed I realized that he dug me out - the other 10 loads I had taken had been forced out, running down my balls and onto the bed (and the carpet below). I had a brief respite, a period of about 15 minutes before anyone else showed up. When they did, I was rested and able to continue taking loads - 4 more before I finished my day. All in all, an epic day that I won't soon forget.

Sixth chapter is out! Part 6: Meeting in person -Ian: Waking up I realized to be alone. I listened to my surroundings but every room was completely silent. "Hunter!" I screamed; but no answer came. My only possibility was to call him, so I turned both my phones on hoping to find his usual goodbyes but what I found was much, much worse: “Ian, last night was hot but gifting is not my thing. Find someone else, it’s better this way. Goodbye. Hunter.” No way to reply, he could have blocked me and his number was not reachable. He even packed all his personal belongings he used to leave here when spending the night at my place! Sad, disappointed, I didn’t really know how to feel about it all so I decided it was time to wash all emotions out; my hole still hurt from the night before, so I took the chance to give it a clean up with some fresh water. After shower I began to feel at least more relaxed and I thought about what my neighbour always said regarding my blindness: “you manage to turn all failures into opportunities”. Maybe this was the case, too? It seemed that destiny decided I had to find a better gifter! But for now I needed some physical pleasure to let every negative sensation flow out of me. I opened my nightstand drawer and got my favourite sex toy; it was shaped as a huge penis, with a switch at the base but turning it on did not cause any vibration: it was remotely controlled through a smartphone, by myself or even a partner running the same application. That was my way of sexting with a guy I met on Internet who claimed he converted 3 chasers out of 3. I laid down naked on my bed fucking myself on the silent dildo; without vibration it really meant nothing to me! Leaving it inserted I took my second phone and went into the usual chat; PozCop was on line! -- BlindChaser: Hi, I’m horny as fuck! Can you help me? Toy already in place. PozCop: Fuck yeah! I’m very close to you now! BlindChaser: What do you mean? Please turn the vibe on! -- Nothing happened for a while, then a message arrived: “Stay there and wait! No toy needed, no cum wasted today.” I had just relaxed trying to reorder my feelings, when someone knocked at the door. Three firm, loud knocks. It couldn't be my neighbour, we agreed that when she needed to enter my house without keys she knocked four times, fast. Another three, four, five knocks: I ignored them and patiently waited: if they're ball-busters they'll go away fast enough. After some minutes, though, I heard some foot steps coming from outside and finally the door being unlocked. “Hunter, what’s the fucking matter with you!” I asked. “You scared me off!” The door remained open and steps were approaching but no one spoke. “Is it you, Sharon?” I hoped it was my neighbour, but those steps were too heavy to be hers. “What the fuck!” I grabbed my phone, ready to call emergency service for help, when I heard the door shutting and a person coming closer and closer to my bedroom. “Finally we’re here. Me and you”, the stranger's voice said. He was currently standing at small distance from my bed! “Ian, don't be afraid. I'm more than a friend for you!” That voice seemed familiar but I was not sure enough, I still felt scared as hell. “Fuck yourself, bastard, get your ass out of here or I call…” “Hey, hey, BlindChaser, calm and cool. Who are you going to call? The cops? Don’t waste your time, a policeman is already here!” Oh, fuck, that voice, the more he talked the more I confirmed my assumption: my gifter of dreams was really close to me! “I had enough of remotely pleasing you with a smartphone”, he said; "now it's time for you to show me your true intentions!" “Who on hell gave you my keys?” I asked, still frightened. “And above all, who are you?” “My name is Adrian, Adri for friends, and...” With no embarrassment, he sat on the bed next to me placing his hand on my back. “I'm PozCop”, he whispered at my ear. “And together with my chasers I'll help you through your conversion journey.” I felt completely vulnerable to that man; I had no courage to touch him or shaking his hand but his voice was sexy, charming and deep! “Hey boy! What's the matter?” he asked, coming even closer; “did you turn into a shy guy? Let me have a look at this hot body of yours!” I blushed a little, as except Hunter I had never heard a man giving me a compliment about my body so I decided to take it easy; “let’s see where this goes”, I thought while his warm hands were exploring my shoulders. “I feel tension here”, he said, “it’s time to relax a bit.” His fingers felt strong and gentle at the same time, it was clear he was experienced with massages… Or seduction! I was starting to get hard and he was clearly noticing it, although I was trying my best to compose myself. “Someone’s hungry”, he teased me, starting to kiss and lick all over my body; That man was really hard to resist! “You taste good”, he said, “but your shower gel’s flavor is too childishly innocent. Let vanilla and honey go to neg drama queens; an insatiable bug chaser like you needs something stronger, at least when I’m around.” “How disgusting!” I protested. “Are you asking me to stink as a dirty pig?” He laughed hard at me and I felt his body completely over me, heavy as he was. “Not at all”, he whispered, his lips closer and closer to mine. “Hunter is a dirty and stinky pig, I am a superior DNA and I want strong flavors on your skin! Mint and ginger should be better, you will discover how your hole and dick feel fresh and seducing with that gel soon enough.” I couldn’t help myself and made my move, breaking the space between us; my arms and legs wrapped around him, our hard dicks touching each others, I kissed him passionately as I never did before; it was so different from Hunter’s lovemaking, this man’s tongue literally invading my mouth was pure dominance and I felt truly complete, for the first time. I would have even paid to feel him naked, but his strong hands exploring my body made me suppose it wasn’t appropriate trying to take his clothes off or asking why he was still dressed. “Good start”, he smiled breaking the kiss. Looking back I did not recognize myself, I had just let a stranger enter my house and lay on the bed where I made love with my boyfriend! “I know what’s your feeling”, he continued while squeezing my ass cheeks with his warm, strong fingers. “Now you have a real gifter replacing your undetectable boyfriend, I can still feel his meaningless scent on your pillow.” “It’s the first time”, I replied blushing. “I have never cheated on him but it’s so thrilling to have a different man in my bed!” “From this moment on, you’re free! No one can judge your sexual life; except me, of course.” Without saying anything else, he grabbed my shoulders and made me roll on my back. “Let me in”, he commanded, “I want to try that hole of yours.” I bent my legs upwards, exposing my ass; it was still sore since the night I spent with Hunter but PozCop seemed not to care. He roughly pushed a finger in me without any spit or anything else and blocked my moves with his free hand when he noticed I was trying to reach the lube bottle above my nightstand. “No artificial fluids, boy”, he ordered. “I’m not here for cheaters. Natural contact, or nothing!” He inserted another two fingers and I pushed, to give him more access; “you’re still bleeding a little”, he warned me; “at least Hunter wrecked you good! But you need to be stretched open for my superior organ to enter, I don’t want you to feel pain when I’m all the way in.” A fourth finger in my hole made me actually yelp in pain so he withdrew them all; “no, no, boy. You are not yet ready for my virus!” Weird comment, as far as I could know: every bug chaser story I read on the Internet described tops wrecking holes even with toothbrushes to make they bleed, and now PozCop is scared by some droplets? “I notice you take care of your fuck hole and keep it always clean. This is a good start to be a chaser of mine but you’re still far from ready.” “I told you”, I replied. “There’s lube! Now make me touch your supposed superior organ, at least, please. I’m curious!” He stepped backwards and took his hands off me: “Fuck tool is mine and I decide when, and if, give it to someone. I said, you’re not yet ready and not authorized to make sexual requests to me!” “Listen, PozCop or whatever. If you beave like this it means your dick is not that great as you pretend. So, as far as I’m concerned, you can go fuck yourself.” “Tell me, is this what you want?” He asked standing up next to the bed. “I take your answer as a final rejection for me and my gift and, if so, there is no turning back!” He dropped a set of keys on my nightstand, then guided my hand on it: “I got these keys from a person you perfectly know, so I give you two options.” “These are Hunter’s”, I protested; “you should give them back.” “Now they’re mine because I am in control”, he said holding my wrist tight. “Look at me… Oops, sorry, listen to me: first option, you send me away and stay here on your own with your negative life forgetting PozCop, I’ll block you from every network and your keys are yours. And in this case, you’ll lose your friend Sharon too.” Why was he mentioning my neighbour? Had Sharon truly something to do with this man? I gasped, but he held my wrist even more firmly; it was really not the case to protest or ask questions! “I am very sorry sir… No, I don’t want to stay neg much longer! Tell me option two!” “Good boy”, he smiled. “Second option is that you can become a family member, but first I have to prove you’re worthy of my strain!” “I want to poz up”, I almost sobbed, “but my boyfriend and future gifter just dumped me with a cold farewell message.” “Yeah”, PozCop laughed. “I forced him to do that, you deserve something better than a hybrid HIV strain like Hunter’s. A smart guy as you are, must carry a smart virus!” My parents had tried to decide every aspect of my life, and now this man was doing the same! No one had the right to destroy my relationships or friendships in that way! “Ian, little chaser, open your eyes. And ears, if needed. If you two actually matched, Hunter should have already converted you good. But if he’s undetectable and especially if you didn’t tell him about your desire till yesterday, it means you’re not made to develop the sacred bond of team poz together. Accept it, you have me now and I’m all yours.” “Your voice, your touch”, I whispered to him. “I feel so right in your arms… I would like to call you Gifter!” “Of course you can”, he assured me and surrounded my naked body with his arms again. “But from now on, I am the only poz person who can touch you; then, one more thing…” I was fed up of talking and I pushed my hips back towards him, wondering why he didn’t make the first move for something sexual; “you are afraid of fucking a blind guy?” I took all my courage to ask that unpleasant question. “My eyes don’t work, but you can count on what’s left! My body is fully functional and horny as fuck!” “No, no, no, chaser Ian. You got it all wrong! I’m super excited too, but I keep it under control as my role is to guide you through this journey preventing the possibility of any regrets when it’s too late. You want to call me Gifter? So, I must be sure I’m the one who converts you.” “I respect conditions given to me”, I told him holding out my hand towards him. “And I am a Scout, so I am aware about the importance of promises.” He gripped my hand vigorously, there was no doubt about who was controlling the situation. “Words are nothing”, he said. “Now make your choice: you stay with me and let me ensure you abstain from sex till I decide otherwise, or you keep your sexual freedom but go on PrEP and stay neg till I want you to. Anyway, I’m going to teach you how to control your horniness. Ready, my chaser?” I could only answer yes, sir! “Perfect”, he grinned at me holding my shoulders. “Get dressed, then I help you packing your things. You’re going to leave this horrible house. Follow me, life is long!”

top here I much prefer watching and being part of an orgy with lots of cocks fucking ass and lots of different combinations of guys. Gang bangs tend to be boring for me. One guy getting dick and loads. Seems like that is all they show when its a porn "orgy" these days. love watching a train of guys fucking and breeding asses.

I'm a total top--haven't been fucked since I was young and first coming out. Now that I'm getting old and live in rural Wyoming it's much harder to find willing and capable bottoms. Of course the pandemic didn't help any. And the closing of the baths in Denver really hurt. And now with the high fuel prices traveling will become harder for many. I have run into bottoms who say they used to be tops but as they got older they began having ED issues. I have no prob getting it up and hard as a rock when by myself but sometimes the fucker just won't rise when I'm socially stressed (like meeting someone for the first time or walking around in the baths). In that case I have a rx for trimix which gets me up and hard for hours. I have also had a problem with losing my hard when using poppers so I stopped using them but wonder if maybe that might be why there aren't as many tops these days. And with so many men using meth and the associated limp dicks further limit the number of tops. Thank gawd for good porn!!!

I would love that too.

They’re certainly not in Manchester… To pinch and corrupt an old sitcom line, a top arriving at Manchester Piccadilly station is seized on like a Snickers bar thrown over the wall of a fat camp.

Best thread in ages , as a total top I love amateur porn , these are the asses I will be fucking in Saunas , restrooms and remote car parks , attainable asses , not some remote porn actor. Hot , hot , hot

I need to shave lol

Moderator's Note: This thread seems out of control. If people want to discuss this concept civilly and without name calling, start a new thread.

I am 58 this year. In my mid-30's I discovered that I'm multiorgasmic. Before that I thought I was a bad top who prematurely ejaculated, so I was much more of a bottom than I was a top. (For those of a certain age in the US, this revision of the Tootsie Pop commercial perfectly sums up my top experiences before that - "How many fucks until you reach the center of a Tootsie Pop? One. Two. Three. Cum!) Once I discovered I was multiorgasmic, I likened my orgasms to going out to dinner. The first one is like the Appetizer, which arrives quickly. The second is like the Main Course in that it takes longer to arrive and is hopefully worth the wait. The third is like Dessert - sometimes you get it, sometimes you don't. (Dessert has required a 3+ hour session since my mid-30s.) So, in the last decade, my sexual position hasn't really changed. I much prefer to top than to bottom. YES, there is a limit to how many times I can top where there isn't a limit to how many times I can bottom. But there is WAY more prep involved in bottoming than there is in topping! (And let me shout out all those bottoms who are diligent about their prep!) So, under precise circumstances, I would consider bottoming. Otherwise, I'm quite content to top!

last night I went back to club O and in the dark room someone slipped their dick in me. It was clear that he was going from hole to hole. I was lucky enough to get the load and after he said enjoy the gift.

I must be living right because yesterday I had a guy come out to seal my driveway. It was hot and he took off his shirt which was a nice treat but when he took off his I saw a biohazard tattoo around his navel and a scorpion tat on his peck. My cock about literally burst out of my shorts. When he finished his help went to the truck to eat lunch and I invited my new shirtless Mexican friend inside to square up the invoice. As soon as he came In I told him I liked his tattoos and asked if he was gay in a really polite way. Then I took a huge risk and flat out asked if I could suck his cock. He eagerly responded “hell yes” so I dropped down right there and got his cock out and started to wake it up. His cock was uncut, really hairy, and had an amazing sweaty musty smell that really turned me on. It was very dark skinned and probably like 5” but it was pretty fat. I started working his dick hard. We moved into the bathroom so we could smoke and we both got nude. I sucked hime for another minute while we both smoked. He started fingering my asshole so it was obvious he wanted more so I laid on my belly, he lubed up and he mounted me from behind. He pounded me hard for a couple minutes before he popped. He pumped in me like half a dozen time and when he pulled out he was still pumping and I could feel his seed hit my lower back and my ass crack. I sat up and asked if he was poz and he of course said yes. I asked if he was on medication and he said yes but he doesn’t take it all the time because of side effects. He said it was probably 6-8 weeks ago that he last was on his medication. He seemed really upset like he did something wrong but I assured him it was fine. He air dropped the pics he took and took my money and left. Probably in all about 20 minutes of play.

Good boy *tussles hair*

There you go guys...

My only suggestion, which doesn't seem to be very welcome, is to try exploring your versatile side too. I am truly versatile, but wind up topping 2x3 times as many guys as I get to fuck me. Because so few guys are willing to even consider topping 80-90% of my time and effort goes into looking for guys willing to top, too. I've also pointed out, to many total bottoms disgust, that if I'm at an orgy my load will likely get squirted into a guy who is willing to give me one in return. I think I've heard all of the arguments, about why guys want to be total bottoms, but the fact is the very nature of having gay tendencies means there are very few gay or bi men that don't want to bottom at least occasionally. I can understand that maybe you prefer bottoming, but you also need to consider that if no one is even willing to consider topping, no one can get fucked no matter how much they like to bottom.

"MJ, let's grab our legs under our knees and open our asses!" TJ said and they both did just that. "Dads, on the count of three, bury your faces in our asses and bite three times! One! Two! Three!" Matt and Ty did as they were told and 3 bites was enough to draw blood. Ty and Matt withdrew from their son's asses and sure enough there were droplets of blood on their tongues. "Blood of our blood. Kiss us!" They kissed their sons with passion and eagerness. "Suck on our cocks while we rim you!" He exclaimed as the 4 of them shifted into position. Matt and Ty feasted on their son's virgin holes while MJ and TJ slobbered on the cocks that made them. It truly was a bonding experience. Pulling his face away, Matt gently jabbed Ty's arm with his elbow. "We should all be sufficiently spit lubed. I think we should go in a bit roughly, making some tears for your asses to take our virus. Once we're balls deep, we can make love to you. This blessed event is beyond fucking, it's the height of intimacy, enhanced by passionate kissing!" To be continued

2 years ago I would have reacted with horror and disgust if somebody told me they were turned on by sex between father and son - but then Covid and lock-downs happened and a chain of events were set in motion in our little household that made my world spin out of control! I became a father at 24 when my fiancé at the time told me she was pregnant. The relationship didn’t last - basically because I was more into men than women - and I ended up moving to Copenhagen and she and our son stayed in Jutland. I paid child support and that was about the only connection I had with my son through the years. My ex married another man and he became the de facto father for my son. Fast forward to 2019 - my son, who was now 19, was supposed to start studies at Copenhagen university and finding a place to live in Copenhagen for a student with close to no income proved impossible. My ex contacted me and asked if I had a spare room and as I live in a rather large house in the suburbs of Copenhagen this was definitely an option. In the end my son reached out to me and everything was settled and he moved in by the end of the summer of 2019. He is a really good looking guy - muscular, strawberry blond hair, blue eyes and a very nice and friendly disposition. I myself am not too bad looking either and pride myself on staying in good shape etc. From the beginning I was very honest with him about the reason why I left his mother and why we agreed that growing up with her would probably be the best solution for all. He was fine with everything and didn’t hold any grudges so right from the onset all was fine. We settled into a daily routine - I going to work and attending to the chores around the house, he attending his studies at university, I did the shopping and if he was home for dinner we would prepare something together. He would be hanging out with his friends from university and I would hang out with my friends so we got along really well. I have to admit there were occasions where I couldn’t help noticing how incredibly sexy he looks and that would also make my trousers feel a little tight in the front! But I quickly stopped myself and reminded myself that he is my biological son for crying out load!! The Corona hid in March 2020 and Denmark basically closed down overnight and he and I were suddenly confined to the house 24/7. Again we found a good routine with regard to my work and his studies - and since both he and I had been regulars at the local gym we also started to come up with some exercises and workout routines that we could do in our home. We would normally get up around 6-6.30 and start out with our exercises, then jump in the shower, eat breakfast and be ready for work and studies around 8 o’clock. The exercises would take place in the dining room where there is a lot of open floor space and we quickly started helping each other during various repetitions and routines due to the lack of gym equipment. As we started the days with exercising right after having jumped out of bed, we would both be in our underwear and nothing else and I very soon became painfully aware of the effect his young body had on me. To sit real close to him, smelling the scent of young male coming off of his body. Seing the sweat form patches between his legs and above his ass crack, the scent from his armpits … I was completely turned on! And was horrified by the fact! And of course he noticed my discomfort - and quickly guessed the reason. And he turned out to be much more relaxed about it than me. One morning, three weeks into the lockdown, we were on the floor in the dining room in our underwear when he suggested we try a new routine. Basically either he og I should lie flat on the floor on our backs and the other would then place his knees on the shoulders on the one lying down. The one lying down should then raise his legs into upright position only using his abs and thigh muscles. And he wanted me to go first which I agreed to without really realizing what this routine would mean in terms of proximity. I got down on my back and suddenly he crouched down at my head placing his knees on my shoulders thereby placing my face right between his thighs and I could clearly feel his packages touching the top of my head. When I started lifting my legs he would raise himself slightly as if to make sure I couldn’t move my upper body off the floor. But this movement meant that his package and crotch were now placed squarely over and partly on my face - and I’m pretty sure no straight gym buddies have ever done this routine!! The scent from his crotch was intoxicating and the view and feel of his package as it graced lightly against my nose and mouth, just separated by the fabric of his underwear, was too much for me and I began getting hard. Which obviously made me panic completely. I tried to get up but he had anticipated this and in one fluid, quick move he dove down over my upperbody, slid his hands under the waistband of my underwear and pushed them down releasing my cock which sprang up and slapped back against my stomach. The next I felt was his warm mouth engulfing my cockhead and by then I was too far gone to care about anything. I pushed him sideways until we were in the 69 position and ripped off his underwear revealing his rockhard cock and tight, full balls and I just went to town. We sucked each other like madmen and soon - within seconds of each other - we shot our loads into each other’s mouths. Afterwards we lay exhausted next to each other but eventually I sat up and looked down on my beautiful son who had drops of my cum down his chin. He smiled broadly up at me and said 'You probably have a trillion things to say about how wrong this is but I have never been so turned on before in my life and by the look of things neither have you and since nobody can get pregnant why don't we just go for round two?' and with that he pulled med down on top of him and started kissing me with a fire and passion that got me going in no time. It marked the beginning of a fantastic relationship that is still ongoing. Both he and I know this is completely wrong but for now we just enjoy each other in all ways possible and then we just wait and see what lies ahead. My son has always been into older men and as we were never together when he grew up he doesn’t see me as his father but more as a mature man he can have sex with in safe surroundings and experiment with. I’ve always had a healthy appetite for sex so sharing my house with a horny young man who gets an erection if a door slams too hard is a dream.

Part 4 "Tom has never told me anything and all I know is from comments and questions he's made to Patrick. The moment he asked Patrick the first poz related question, Patrick knew where it was going" Dennis said and paused before continuing "We've always been really close, so Patrick told me, asking me not to say anything to anyone, especially you. At least now that the cat's out of the bag, I don't have to hold it in." "You know how hard it was not saying anything while I watch your relationship implode when I knew how to fix it? If I said anything it would mean I broke my promise to my closest friend. So... I didn't and watched you two tear each other apart" Dennis said, a tear running down his face. "Damn. I'm sorry you got stuck in the middle. You did the right thing though. Breaking Patrick's trust would have been the worst choice" I told him. I took a long breath and continued "There were a hundred ways for me to find out what Tom was thinking. I just wish he would have told me sooner" I said. In the end I decided that Dennis was right, and if anyone was to poz Tom it should be me. It wasn't like I was avoiding it or following my own advice to get protected from getting myself infected. "How do you want it to go? Know who did it or a group thing?" Dennis asked. The sinister smile on his face told me he had a preference, but when he didn't say anything more, I knew it was all up to me. "I'd like to know. Who do you know that can charge me up?" I asked Dennis. "Hmm, there's three that I know of off hand that are really toxic and would be into it... Rico, Tony and... me. From the text message I got earlier, both of them are very willing" Dennis said. "You? I thought you were a bottom and undetectable" I asked after giving him a long stare. Dennis chuckled. "I top sometimes when the mood strikes. My nephew's buddy was chasing, so I went off meds to tag him. The little fucker put up a fight too and it took two months of breeding to finally knock him up. You know that young guy that was staying with me a couple months back? Him" Dennis said. "Fuck... was he even legal?" I asked. "Yeah, he just turned twenty. He met his goal of being pozzed while he was still a teenager, but just by a month. We were getting worried. That last sex party I held was supposed to do it if I had failed. You, Tom and Luke were the only neg guys there. Anyway, do you want one of us three to do it? I can ask around if none of us are good enough" Dennis said, grinning. I was tight and Dennis is thick, making my first fuck as a bottom in well over a year painful. The second round hurt almost as much and I went back to the hotel with Dennis' smallest plug in my ass. The next morning, I met Dennis before work and let the bug filled cum stew in my guts all morning while I tried to work. I pulled the plug out at lunch and nothing dripped out. I was much more comfortable sitting at my desk that afternoon with the plug in my backpack, not my ass. Dennis was even more brutal that evening after work and had to find a larger plug to stuff in me. It was strange having our roles reversed and I know Dennis was enjoying every second of it. I wanted to fuck him after he bred me again, but I was told that he wasn't taking any more of my neg seed. Thankfully, the hotel desk clerk gladly took my load. I noticed a small scorpion tattoo behind his ear as I emptied my balls in him. He confirmed his status, making my dick hard enough to give him a second load. The next morning I checked out and after work I headed back to our apartment. Tom and I talked all night. While we had texted and chatted over the phone after he told me his secret, there was a lot more that came out when we were face to face. As I had discussed with Dennis, we were going to hook Tom up with a guy Dennis knew who loved poz dialog during sex. He was undetectable, knew our plan and thought it was hot. I collected my morning load from Dennis on my way to work and picked up a second one on my way back to the apartment that evening. A few hours later, Dennis' buddy Jerry showed up for his first fuck with Tom. I watched and occasionally cheered them on while I stroked. Tom was rarely hard when he got fucked, but his dick was totally rigid the whole time Jerry fucked him the first time. It even stayed hard after he got bred. "Now... let my little baby makers get you pregnant" Jerry said, rubbing over Tom's stomach after he had roughly shoved a plug into Tom's ass. I pulled mine out shortly before we went to bed and once again, Dennis' DNA had absorbed into my gut. I hoped that it didn't take a couple months before my body fell victim to Dennis' bug like his last chaser. Jerry showed up on Friday and bred Tom while I stopped over and was getting loaded by Dennis. Tom and I fucked too, spending our first Saturday back together in bed. I first had to remove the plug that Tom inserted the night before. All of Jerry's load had soaked in but by six AM, mine was taking it's place. Another fuck at nine AM added more and a third time at one PM topped him up. "Can we do a little role play?" Tom asked mid-afternoon. "Sure. What do you want to do?" I asked. It was good to see him talk about new things he wanted to try, regardless if he thought I might find them too weird. "Can you pretend you're pozzing me? I know Jerry is doing it, but I find it really hot when he tells me he's giving me the bug" Tom asked. "I'm not sure what to say, but I'll try" I told him. His dick was hard and jabbing into my abs, coating them with precum when I fucked him on his back an hour later. I had heard enough comments from Dennis to give me a good set of things to say. "You like feelin that poz dick diggin into your fertile cunt?" and "beg for my poz load... show me how bad you want to become my toxic bitch" and "Gonna be so fuckin hot to watch as my bug takes over your body" I growled out has I fucked Tom. A moment before I came, I asked "Is this gonna be the magic load?" Twelve days after Dennis had fucked his first charged load into my ass I woke up feeling rough. My throat was sore, the glands in my neck were swollen and my body ached. I left for work and instead checked into the motel. The desk clerk was the same one I'd fucked during my earlier stay and had a huge smile on his face. "Looks like an all nighter. The fire suppression system in the Spokane data center went off for no reason and we have to get everything back online" I told Tom after I'd gotten to the room. "Fuck... you're burnin up. You're the one that needs a fire extinguisher. Let me give you another big load of jizz to put out the fire" Dennis said. The sinister grin on his face showed me how proud he was to knock me up so quickly. I went home after a night away and collapsed on the bed. "Babe... you look like shit. You ran yourself down. Did you get any sleep last night?" Tom asked, looking over my sweaty, sore body. "About thirty minutes. It sucked. And there was this vent blowing ice cold air at me when I sat at the console" I whined, trying to put on a good show. Tom even canceled the meeting that night with Jerry to take care of me. By Friday, I was feeling better and watched Jerry give his own performance.

Quinn I've just had the most intense orgasm ever and feel as if I'm floating. I've never had my cock in anything other then my hand since all the guys with whom my mom made me sleep had with just wanted to fuck me. A couple of them would fondle my cock, but like I said before they'd just do or say anything to appease their conscientious. None of them actually cared if I felt good, they just wanted to unload inside me, but at this moment there was an amazing man sitting on my cock which was shoved all the way inside his ass. I would never have believed that anyone could get that much dick in his ass. For fucks sake. If I lined-up along his stomach it would be past his navel. I looked-up and he was grinning ear to ear, still swiveling his hips and obviously enjoying himself. At that moment I remembered something Jason had done to me that felt awesome, so I decided to give it a try. I pulled down on his hips and make my cock jump inside him. This had the effect I intended: Jason took a sudden intake of breath, his head fell forward, followed by a very loud "Oh Fuck! You're a fast learner young man. Remember that for later." Jason starts to rise up off my dick but I hold onto his hips and lifted my hips with his motion I stayed lodged all the way in, asking "What, can't wait to get away from me now that you've taken my virginity?" "You learn way to fast and you ARE EVIL." With that, Jason leaned forward, planting a deep kiss on my lips. Then before I knew what he had in mind, he pulled off of my dick, which, with a loud thump, smacked against my stomach. "Damn, and you said I was evil!" "Yep. Guess we're two peas in a pod and deserve each other." He grinned down at me and then stood-up, stepping off the bed and offered me his hand. I grabbed his hand and he helped pull me out of bed. Once I was on my feet he pulled me into his embrace and held me. "I'm glad your here. I've been worried about you since I saw those welts on your back. I don't know what I would have done is someone and taken things to far and seriously hurt you," and with that he tightened his arms around me. I felt safe and comfortable. We rocked back and forth for a few seconds, but my ornery streak came out again. "Well, if all we're going to do is stand around, we should of stayed in bed with my dick inside your ass." Jason chuckled and responded, "Yep. You're evil alright. Guess I'll have to keep you around to protect the rest of the world from your wickedness." "Ok, I can live with that." Again I hugged him and Jason returned my hug with the suggestion "Why don't you jump in the shower while I make the bed. I'll join you in just a second." "Sounds good to me." Once in the shower with the water running through my hair everything starts to sink in. I was in love with a man who was HIV+ and who had 13 years on me, and that he had probably infected me or at least started to. I knew I could still get to the clinic and get medicine to stop it. Do I want to? I hollered "Hey Jason, can I use your shampoo?" "Sure." Do I have to get HIV to stay with him? I poured shampoo into my hand and start to lather up. Couldn't we just use protection? And I think about how it felt last night. How he was so patient and how incredible it felt to have him bare inside me. Was that because I loved him or does the condom deaden sensation, or was it both? I rinsed my hair, and again called-out "Can I use your body wash?" Again, "Sure." I wondered if there was a medication I could take so I could stay negative, even if we didn't use condoms. "Where are the wash cloths or can I...." I jumped as Jason opens the shower door, pointing to the loofah. "See that? That's ours." He points to the shampoo "and that? Yeah that's OURS too, as is the conditioner and ever other product in this bathroom." With that, he slapped my ass adding "This, now this, is mine as is this" he announced, wrapping his hand around my dick, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hmm, well, that works both ways right?" "It certainly does. Both your ass and mine belong to me, as does your dick and my dick." "OH that's just wrong," and we both laughed. I soaped-up as Jason washed his hair. A million thoughts were racing through my mind as I tried to organize them. We danced around the shower stall, alternating between getting wet and rinsing off. Finally I was done and made to step out of the shower, but Jason reached-out and lightly grasps my elbow, and, as I turned to see what he wanted, he leaned forward and kissed me. Then he leaned his forehead against mine, looked me in the eyes saying "Somebody thinks you're special." There was absolutely no doubt in my mind who that somebody was. "You know I think that same somebody thinks you're special too. OH wait. I mean I think your special or somebody ... oh damn, I totally blew that didn't I?" Jason was downright laughing his ass off, saying "Actually, baby that was just perfect. Okay, more immediate, I put your clothes in the dryer but that's going to take some time so I laid out a pair of sweats on the bed for you. The bottoms will be long but the top should be just fine. There's also underwear in the dresser across from the bed. You might want to wear some with the sweats," winking at me, then with a final peck he turned back into the spray to finish his shower. Once in the bedroom I headed for the dresser, where in the first drawer, I found socks so I closed it and went on to the next one, which, as it turned-out, contained more different kinds of underwear than I had ever seen. Looks like someone has a thing for underwear, I thought. I couldn't help but grin as I looked through boxers, jocks, g-strings, and ass-less shorts. Now that looks like it could be fun, I thought to myself. Choosing a pair, I quickly put them on and I was dressed by the time Jason came in from the bathroom. "You find everything ok?" "Yep but took me forever to wade through all the underwear. I swear a couple of them tried to grab me and drag me into the drawer." Jason turns beet red "Yeah I kind of have an underwear thing." "Kind of? That's way more then kind of." "So which ones did you get?" He reached around me began to slide his hands down the back of the sweat pants. "Oh no." I push him back "if your a good boy I'll show you later." "What if I'm bad?" "Then I'll let you touch them." "You know I'm going to be VERY bad?" "Yup. I kind of planned on it when I picked them." Jason raised an eye brow "Oh really??" as he stepped towards me. "Ah ahh aha. NO touchy till later," I admonished, grinning ear to ear. "Fine," Jason replied, turning towards the dresser. "Hold on one sec mister," I said as I reached past him into the drawer with all the underwear, grabbing probably the sexiest jock I had ever seen, suggesting "You get to wear that." "Oh really, picking out my clothing for me now. Soon people will be accusing us of being an old married couple." His words raced through my head. A married couple? All I could do was stand there. "Hey, hey. It's just a saying, okay? I kind of thought that was a good thing." I could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. Looking right into his face I stated "It is love. You just caught me by surprise. I just never expected anyone would want..." It was hard for me to finish, but I spit out the obvious words "...the whore's son." "Love, I very much want you and I'm tired of this self-description as the whore's son. You are now my man and that takes precedence. Even as we speak my DNA is combining with yours. So can we drop that awful phrase, and can you just be content to be my Quinn?" Jason reached for me and this time I let my body fold against his chest. "Yeah, I think I can do that." But as I leaned against him, I couldn't stop thinking about his reference to DNA, and how our DNA was now combining in my body. I wanted to be Jason's and the idea of part of him being inside me was strangely reassuring, but then the question remained, did I really want to be HIV positive, and as a follow-up, couldn't I have everything else but that? Then, aware, perhaps, that I needed time to think, Jason got back to the mundane, saying "Ok, let's go get your stuff, and we can grab some breakfast on the way there. 'kay?" With that we moved apart and I nodded in agreement. Heading out the door, however, Jason grabbed a jacket for each of us, remarking "I checked, your jacket is still soaked, so you might want to wear one of mine." "Thank you." "My pleasure. I plan on taking it off of you later" giving me a broad smile. "Mmmm, well, that depends on just how bad you are," and we gave a chuckle, and left it there. The trip to my house, no, to my mother's trailer, was quiet. Between eating my croissant, chasing thoughts of HIV and DNA, and worrying about dealing with my mother, I was preoccupied. Arriving at the entrance of the trailer park where I had lived most my life, I got my first real look at the grounds, and found myself thinking 'It's pretty amazing how we can live some place and never really see it'. The rusty trailers, some of them missing skirting panels, old cars sitting on blocks in the driveway, automobile parts and toys scattered all around the various yards, weeds being about the only plant that grew strongly, and, truth be told, they were sprouting up everywhere. I wanted to slide under the seat. I was so embarrassed. I never really cared. Never before had I cared about where I lived, or, for that matter, had I really registered where I lived, until I brought Jason to the dump, and not surprisingly I found myself wishing he had never seen the place. Perhaps I should have just made some excuse to come alone but it was too late and he was here. Still I couldn't stand the idea that he would see the unvarnished truth of how I lived. Rounding the corner, we were facing my mom's trailer, and to be honest, it was one of the worst. Panels were missing, rusted or beaten, the steps were broken, cracks in the windows were sealed with tape. The whole mess should have be in a scrap yard. I glanced over at Jason. Revulsion was plainly written on his face. I'm so ashamed and just bowed my head, staring at my feet. "Hey, love, look at me, please." I look up at Jason as he continued "Do you remember when I said I was proud of you, and you asked me how I could be proud of you, but then didn't let me answer?" "Yeah. I remember." "THIS is why I'm proud of you." I was completely confused and I am sure it showed in my face, but Jason continued, and his remarks put everything in perspective. "How many of the kids who grow-up here finish school? How many of the guys your age are healthy and drug free? How many of the girls who grow-up here aren't already pregnant, or have kids, or are selling themselves - and not looking for a way to break out of this place?" With that he stopped the car in the middle of the road and pulled me over to him, saying, with great earnestness, "You've fought to keep going to school, you've kept yourself in great shape, you don't do drugs and you don't go out and sell yourself." "But I do. My mother has guys over for me all the time," I sobbed. "Baby, what your mother does doesn't count. YOU don't sell yourself out, your mother does. What have you been doing when you're not with your mother's 'John''? You've been going to school, doing homework and keeping your body in shape. Right? How many of the other guys you grew up with here do that? Now place, however horrible, is why I'm so proud of you. Got that? You're so much better then this world." His words gave me the strength to realize and accept the truth of his declaration. "Thank you." "Baby, you don't need to thank me for saying what's true." I smiled, saying "Just park right here. I'll run in and get my things. it shouldn't take me long." "You sure? I'll go in with you." "No it's ok. It will be faster if I just run in. With any luck mom will be out of it, and I'll be able to grab my stuff and get out." "Ok, baby. Your call, but if you're too long I'm coming in to get you, and Lord help anyone who gets in my way." "You just want your clothing back." "Nah. Just the underwear." We both giggled. "Okay. Be right back." I took a deep breath, opened the car door and walked to my mom's trailer. I glanced back at Jason, seated in his car, and knew he was worried for me. I waved and headed up the four steps to the sliding door, through which I could see Mom smiling, seated on the couch, her hand on some guy's thigh. I slid open the door and Mom turned to look at me. Her eyes had a glassy look so I knew she was on something. "Well, there you are" she said, asking "Where have you been, honey?" "Around, I'm just going to grab some stuff and I wont be in your way and you can finish visiting." "Oh Honey, John's not here to visit with me. He wants to visit with you." John was a pudgy man, probably around 35 or so, about 5' 10' and around 250 pounds, and even when standing at the door I could tell he smelled. I had never really cared before as it had never before mattered what I thought, but this time I felt like I was going to be sick. 'Fuck it', I thought, and unbidden, the words came out "No, mom I can't." "Of course you can, Honey. John has paid very good money to visit with you." "No mom I can't, I....don't have any condoms." John spoke-up saying "That's ok, young'un. I don't need em. I'm clean." My mother, however, spoke-up: "No. No one does my boy without a condom. But that's ok. I've got plenty in my room. I'll just get you boys a couple and leave you alone to have some fun." But I took the bull by the horns and announced "No mom, I don't need condoms. I got infected last night. I'm not clean." "WHAT!" she screeched "How could you, after everything I've taught you? Well you just take care of John here, and we'll get you right to the clinic and they can give you them pills to stop it." "No mom I'm not visiting with John or any other John any more. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. I'm only here to get my stuff." And with that I headed off to my room where I grabbed my backpack with my school books, and a duffle bag into which I shoved what little clothing I owned that was decent. In the background I heard the sliding door open and close. 'Good. At least 'John' is gone', I thought. As I rooted through the drawers in my bureau, I heard Mom come to my bedroom door, but I cut her off before she could begin, saying "I'm not going to talk about this, Mom. I'm just leaving." The voice that sounded was not Mom's, it was John "Well, I'm not much for small talk anyway, but you're not going anywhere for a while. You're mom changed her mind and said that I could leave a few marks 'cause you're being such a bad child" and with that the back of his hand, he smashed me across the check. He chuckled as I stood there, utterly stunned, and 'John' continued saying "She did say not to break anything, but you know she's not around and if you fight too much, well let's just say 'accidents happen'." John then grabbed me and yanked me around, punched me in the back of the head and then pushed my head down, forcing me to bend over. Then with his other hand he grabbed my pants and yanked them down. "My what do we have here. Such cute little fuck-me panties. You must have worn them just for me boy. Did your mamma tell you 'Daddy' was coming and to dress up so purty for him?" I heard him unzip his pants. Understanding what he intended, I struggled to extract myself from his grip, but John, who was surprisingly strong for an over-weight man, clobbered me hard above the ear. "No, please don't, don't do this, I plead." "That's right boy just keep begging, love it when they beg. Gonna have you begging for more here in just a sec." I hear him spit and then he's shoving his hard dick side me. I try to tighten up so he can't get in and he slaps my ass hard and shoves my head into the wall. "You let me in first boy then you can squeeze" and with that he viciously shoves his cock into me. "NO, NO, DON'T! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME, YOU BASTARD!" "Oh yeah, boy, I'm going to get off in you. Don't worry about that none," and with another cruel thrust he shoved harder into my ass, again slapping me in the back of my skull. I was dizzy from his last slap and my ears were ringing, so I just stood there, bent over, my head against the wall as he fucked me hard. As he did so, I remember thinking 'How can this be happening to me?' Suddenly John's cock was jerked out of my ass and his weight fell off me. For a second I stood there, trying to get my balance, when I felt the trailer shaking. Looking around, I saw Jason had one hand around John's cock and my mom's cutting knife in his other hand. The cutting blade was resting under John's balls. "You like it rough?" Jason seethed, hissing through his clenched teeth, "well, this knife is a bit too sharp for me to make it rough for you, but I'm ok with that." A small smear of blood trickled across the knife blade, and down 'John's' thigh. "Fuck, no, DON'T! Please! Don't!" "You know, I believe I just heard my LOVER say the same thing to you and how did you respond? I believe you told him to keep on begging." Jason was face is crimson with rage, and he was practically spitting in the other man's face. I notice that the blood was running a bit more quickly, and I could tell Jason was close to killing this piece-of-shit-of-a-man, and I knew I'd loose him if that happened. "Love, please," I gasped, "I need your help, please," I begged him. "Just let him go, and let's get the fuck out of here." Jason looked at me, and then back at John. "If I ever see you again, I'll fuckin' kill you, and if I ever see you near my lover I'll kill you slowly. Do I make myself clear?" The terrified man nodded. "Now get the fuck out of here," and with that Jason shoves the bastard down the hall. I could hear 'John' scrambling to get out the sliding door and then he was gone. In turn, I dropped to the floor, not believing what had transpired, shaking and sobbing. I couldn't control myself. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the tremors. Then Jason was there. holding me tightly. "Oh my god, love, I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner. I saw your mother leave and thought she was upset and letting you pack. Fuck! Your own mother left you with him! No never mind that. I never want you to have to come back here. Helping me to my feet, he herded me to the exit. "Wait, I need my backpack." "I will get you new clothing. There is NOTHING in this fucking hell hole you need!" "Jason, I need my backpack." "I'll get you new clothing." "Jason, its my school books I need. My math book." "I'll get you a new math book." "Jason, I need that specific book." "Why?" "'Cause that's the one I had when I met you. That's the first problem you helped me solve. I need that book." Jason stood there staring at me, then clutched me tighter to his chest, sobbing and shaking as much as was I. "Lover, you have no idea how proud I am of you, and how much you mean to me." With that Jason grabbed my back pack and we were gone.

Last time I went to the sauna I douched for just under an hour and I stayed pretty much squeaky clean for hours. Today I douched for a similar time and I noticed it wasn't quite right after the first fuck. It was OK, but when I checked there was "something. I recognised the guy (he fucked me last time and fuck he is hot) when he dashed off to get some lube (lots of which I'd fingered up me anyway) and he fucked me senseless. Three or four fucks later (those seemed fine, including one massive load from a hot guy with a lovely big fat cock), another guy fucked me hard and things were definitely not "OK." I figure I know what NOT to eat the day before or in the morning (i.e. I'm doing a trial and error exercise on my body). Once I know I have it spot on, I'll get back out to sex clubs where there aren't showers. That's when the load count will skyrocket!

@DudeLiquor and @ErosWired that poopers are a problem. I think in many cases they are used as a defense mechanism for guys who don't really want to fuck. I've been with too many poppers dudes that as soon as they are hard enough that you asked them to fuck will take a big huff wilt, so they can ask you to suck them hard again and keep repeated it until they either cum from he oral or even more likely completely lose the ability to get an erection. If that happens every time they hookup, they really don't want to fuck. Personally I hate poppers the only thing they ever do for me is give me a headache. I will fuck a guy who is using them, but you are not taking a big huff and then getting my dick in your mouth, those fumes you are exhaling can feel like you are burning the skin on my dick.

Since I figured out I was gay in my teens I have only ever been a bottom. I can literally count on one hand the number of times I have Topped. I'm not even slightly versatile. I'm not wired that way, it just doesn't work for me. Everything works as it should but it just doesn't feel good for me unless I'm being filled. Both physically and psychologically I only feel that connection when I bottom. Despite what some have said there isn't some switch that can be flicked and make me swap things up. That may be true for others but I am what I am. Therefore I put the work in to be as good a bottom as I can be.

Chapter 6 Love and Blackmail Tommy came home later than usual on Tuesday, and found Rich sitting in the twilight, no lights on, nothing done about dinner, nothing but an empty glass by his side on the table. He was asleep. Tommy sighed, picked up the glass, and headed for the kitchen to pull together an easy and quick dinner for them. He was no fool. He could tell that the “work issues” that were besetting Rich were big, complex, and troubling for him. He also guessed, rightly as it turned out, that the retirement of Benita Caladesa had triggered this latest round of unrest. Tommy wished he could do something to help Rich sort it all out, but he knew that Rich had to resolve his own demons and was struggling with them through his writing. He also knew, and acknowledged with sadness, that whatever was troubling Rich was something he would likely never know about, unless it somehow got leaked to the press. When he had the food ready, he gently woke Rich up. Rich looked around, baffled at first, then quickly remembered his last chapter of his memoir and the unnerving phone call. He pulled himself up, went to wash his hands, and sat down to eat. Tommy did make an effort to probe gently. He wasn’t at all surprised at the answer. “I’m sorry, Tommy – work issues. I can tell you, though, I’m trying to figure out how to clear it up quickly and painlessly so you can give an answer to the University about the Dean’s position. Two more days, maximum. I don’t want to hang you out to dry with the offer, but that’s the best I can do.” “Thanks for this. At least, I can give them a timeline, let them know when my answer is coming. You know, they won’t find it any harder than I do to guess that Benita’s announcement is at the root of the problem.” Rich smiled. “Deep in, but not right at the root. And it’s terrible trying to figure this one out, because it’s only the second time in my life that I’ve been completely at a loss about my next move. I’m sorry, that’s all I can say.” Tommy nodded, smiled, and put it aside while they finished their meal. After dinner, Rich returned to his computer. He sat there and pondered. The second time, he’d said to Tommy. What was the first time? He opened a new chapter file and began. ******************** Fortunately, I didn’t have a lot of time to brood over Hiroshi’s departure because my mother had decided that she wanted to sell the house and downsize into a condominium. I didn’t blame her one bit, but it added another onerous task to the will itself. On the other hand, having the cash in hand for the house would make resolving the estate a bit simpler. Chloe came down from her home in Ottawa where she was now attending university. With both of us there to speed the process, my mother went through the house reasonably quickly, picking out the things she wanted to save. These were mostly small items, keepsakes, and other treasures. The furniture mostly dated from when I was two or three years old, and thus could reasonably be disposed of for possible refurbishment and resale by other hands. Chloe and I also picked out such things as we wished to keep, mostly paintings from the walls. While all this was going on, I began to realize another truth. I had to move back to Toronto. My mother was left with no other family close at hand, and I certainly owed her my support after the way she had backed me at the time I had come out. I was pretty sure I owed my generous treatment in the will to her efforts at bringing my father to understand why I had become the man I had. All the same, I surprised her a bit when we set out to do some condo shopping, and I told her we were shopping for a building where we could find two good units – one for her, and one for me. She was, however, both happy and grateful that I had decided to come back to Toronto. In the end, we found two good units in one of the new buildings that were starting to spring up along the waterfront, overlooking the lake. She took one lower down, on the eighth floor, but I went all the way up to the twenty-third floor, loving the view out over the lake, the harbour, and the islands. Her only comment, unusually tart for her was, “Be sure you keep one or two chairs well away from the windows at that height, for me when I come to visit.” The rest of the business went smoothly – arranging to transfer my credits from Mainland U. in Vancouver to one of the leading law schools in Toronto, clearing out and giving sixty days’ notice on my apartment in Vancouver, and saying goodbye to my numerous friends there. One night, a few of us were out pubbing together. As we sat, talking and drinking, the door opened and a distinguished gentleman whose face I knew from the business pages walked in, with a younger man following him. As they sat down, the younger guy was facing me, and I recognized him. Carlo. His face went a bit white as he saw and recognized me too. I said to my friend Chris, who was sitting across the corner of the table from me, “I’m going to get up and go to the john. When I do, I want you to slide over and take my seat, then talk to Zane. When I come back, I’ll just sit in your chair.” “What the…?” “Be a good guy, and just do it.” That way, at least I wasn’t facing Carlo when I sat down again. After one drink, Carlo and the man I was quite sure was a client got up and left. I never saw him again. I have to be honest with myself. It wasn’t the memory of his casual abuse of my trust that upset me. It was the way the sight of him reminded me of how, in some very uncomfortable ways, I wasn’t at all different from him. And I wanted to be someone different, better, more trustworthy. Back in Toronto, I quickly settled into new routines, making use of regularly scheduled daily open swimming times at the university’s beautiful 50-metre pool, and resuming my workouts until I was better than eighty percent of the way back to the kind of lap times I’d enjoyed in my club days. I also had a couple of hot dates with guys I met at the pool, and guys I met at bars. Nothing more secure, though. I’d given my mother a quick, condensed version of my experience with Hiroshi and she, sensing that the way it ended had been very unhappy for me, asked no more. Fast forward. I finally completed law school, a year late, but with my usual top grades. With those numbers, I had no trouble lining up a law firm at which to complete my articling and prepare for the bar exam. My mentor was a distinguished senior lawyer, a partner in the firm, and (a warning sign of future trouble?) later disbarred for various shady dealings. Another student, Franklin “Frank” Abernathy, was articling with another senior partner who later also got disbarred as part of the same scandal. We became friends quite easily, having so much in common (he’d also lost his father). We also shared common convictions along the lines of making life more equitable for more people in society, an attitude which put us at polar odds with many of our co-professionals. As our articling time came to an end, and we both successfully passed the bar exams, Frank had an interesting proposition to make. We were both highly successful students, we’d both had some intriguing hands-on life experiences, and we both came from well-to-do, mixed-marriage families involving what we now call “persons of colour.” Why didn’t we set up shop in our own office, becoming founding partners of the firm? I was the one who contributed the idea that we place ourselves in one of the under-serviced neighbourhoods full of recent immigrants. Long story short: within less than a year, we’d gotten ourselves organized and “Dunnatore and Abernathy, Law Office” was in business with a staff of two lawyers, one clerk, and one secretary, all in a walk-up office above a family drugstore in the city’s northwest quadrant. The choice of location above a drugstore was inspired. People quickly got to see and know where our office was. And we made a point of being seen and being approachable, out and about in the neighbourhood. We ate lunch in different neighbourhood spots every day, and we met all kinds of local residents that way. I wasn’t at all surprised that my skin colour made many people feel more comfortable approaching me, at first anyway – but they quickly found out that both of us were approachable and trustworthy. We quickly learned how to turn a request for free advice in a café into a request for an appointment in the office. Before long, we had a good slate of clients, and found ourselves doing just what we would have done in a small town – a little of everything. We had real estate files, wills to prepare, traffic charges, divorce and custody cases to handle, along with a smattering of minor criminal matters and the odd civil lawsuit. We quickly developed a track record of success in court, and the word spread that we were both dependable and successful at getting results. In time, we had become so successful that we also had to rent the office next to ours, and then we each had our own office, with two secretaries and two clerks – and all six of us were busy as bees, day in and day out. Somewhere along the way, I can’t recall exactly how or when, I gradually clued into the reality that Frank was also gay. We were both so immersed in our professional lives that our relationship had proceeded entirely on work lines, and was all about our lives as lawyers, not our lives after hours. I’d been open about being gay from the start, but Frank had not. It was less a case of his being nervous or shy, and more a case in which, while he may have preferred men, he was too busy to want or care about sex. His profession was all-consuming for him. None of that reality stopped me from admiring him more and more, and finally from coming to love him, but as a friend. It seemed that, in law, there was nothing he couldn’t do, and I was continually awed by his ability to sense and dig out of his clients the key points that I might very well never have found. But, as always in my life, I was learning quickly by absorbing what I saw, heard, and read. My own sex life was at a standstill. This was largely due to the fact that I was keeping longer hours again, added to the commute time from my condo downtown to the office. At least, as Frank pointed out to me, I was running against the main flow of traffic. This was before Toronto had grown to the point where rush hour became a 16-hour-long, all-directions-at-once madhouse. Running our own office was exhilarating, rewarding, and exhausting all at once. I savoured the excitement of it all, but let the tiredness pass me by. After all, I was keeping up my workouts in the decent-sized pool of the condo building, even though I was having to do some of my swimming at rather odd times (I had asked for and, more surprisingly, received permission to use the pool for my workouts outside of normal hours as long as I didn’t admit anyone else). That gave me the energy to keep myself running at top speed during working hours. I did notice that the fatigue was getting to Frank, though. Once or twice, I urged him to lighten up a bit, but he just laughed it off. I was thirty-one years old, a success in my profession by my own slightly eccentric standards, and looking forward to more of the same, when my life took another one of those wild swerves. I came into the office one morning in 1998 to be greeted by Madge, Frank’s secretary, who asked to speak to me privately. I could tell she was crying. She said she had gotten a call from the hospital. Frank had been admitted in the early hours, and they were seeking his next of kin to contact. She had said she would ask me. I called the hospital, identified myself as Frank’s business partner, explained that we had no information of any next-of-kin, and asked to speak to him. The receptionist on the phone asked me to come in and speak with the doctor in person, and I smelled trouble right away. I told Madge, and Lily, my secretary, to cancel all appointments for the day. I made my way to the hospital, a drive of several rush-hour miles. Asking my way through to Doctor Idris, I learned that Frank had died at 3:45 am of a massive heart attack. He was the same age as me. I don’t need to go through all the shock waves that followed, the need to take charge of his estate until a trustee could be appointed, since no next of kin could be located at all, and the unpleasant yet morbidly amusing discovery that Frank, the consummate lawyer, had become the butt of the worst law school jokes by dying without a will. That meant that I had to dismantle our entire office, with all the complications that this entailed, in order to pay the share of his half-ownership to the estate, which would then revert to the government. What a mess. Paying off our loyal staff and saying goodbye to them on the last day was painful. They had all worked just as hard as we had to make our office function efficiently and were true friends as well as exemplary supporters. Add to that the fresh dose of pain at the loss of a valued colleague and personal friend, a man who had more in common with me than any other lawyer I had ever met -- or would ever meet in the years to come. It took me a couple of years to untangle myself from all of that, and to find, interview for, and secure, a position as partner in a larger law firm. I’d enjoyed my time as a self-employed legal entrepreneur, but I was ready to get into a less tiring, less unpredictable position. It worked out well. Indeed, it did more than that, for one of my first clients was the government of Alcantara, of all places, which required representation in a legal case before the Canadian courts involving the large, Canadian-owned (at that time) diamond mine which was wildly transforming the rural tropical paradise that I remembered. And that was how I first met Benita Caladesa. She was a staff lawyer for the Alcantaran government, in the Ministry of Resources and Environment, and she immediately impressed me as resourceful, committed, and more than competent. They’d engaged our firm because they would save endless hours of hassle by having a lawyer expert in Canadian law and procedures to advise them as well as to officially represent the country in court. It was pure chance that they approached a firm which happened to have a half-Alcantaran lawyer on the staff, but that turned out to be a huge benefit because I was so familiar with the country already and knew so many things about Alcantara that any of my colleagues would have needed to have tediously explained to them. Benita and I worked tirelessly together on preparing the case, and we succeeded in arguing rings around the mining company when the case came to trial. We also won the inevitable appeal, two years later. The upshot of the whole experience was that, quite naturally, she and I became lifetime friends. But there was more to it. She informed me of a recent change to the citizenship laws and urged me to apply for Alcantaran citizenship, as my mother had retained hers. Since Alcantara was on the very short list of countries whose citizenship was recognized by Canada for dual nationality, I leaped at the chance and within a couple of months got my first Alcantaran passport. I’ve never regretted it. After the final appeal verdict was handed down, in April 2000, Benita invited me to come to a celebration cocktail party at the Alcantaran Embassy in Ottawa the following night, and I extended my stay in the capital one more day. At the party, I met the ambassador and his wife, the embassy staff, and a number of other guests. Aside from the court victory, the event was also a chance to find out more about Alcantara for a number of academics who were shortlisted for positions at the new University of Alcantara, opening that year in Portavedra. One of these candidates was a young Asian man who was considering accepting a term appointment to teach first-year courses in history and international relations. I had to ask him his to pronounce his name very slowly so that I could get it. He smiled, obviously used to this request by now, and carefully sounded it out. “Tomoyoshi Takahashi.” I tried -- and stumbled over the syllables while he laughed delightedly. After I asked him a second, and then a third, time to pronounce it again, he just chuckled and said, “Call me Tommy. Everyone does anyway.” I noted his cultivated and entirely idiomatic English, and my eyebrows must have arched a trifle – the typical lawyerly response which I had absorbed from my articling mentor. He laughed again. “I was born and raised in Canada, as were my parents. Just the traditional ancestral name, everything else about me is thoroughly westernized.” It was the ready and joyous laugh that won me over – you might even say it captivated me. Besides Hiroshi, I had met a number of East Asian men, and one and all had been relatively quiet and solemn fellows until called upon to speak. Tommy was a totally different character right from the get-go. We chatted for a couple of minutes longer, and I wished him luck on his upcoming appointment to the new university in Portavedra, which he had decided to accept. “I may even bump into you the next time I am down there,” I said in closing. “I certainly hope so,” Tommy responded heartily, with a smile and a wink – and suddenly I was seeing our entire conversation in a different light. As life continued in Toronto, as I built my reputation in the profession, as I worked through a steadily increasing line of high-profile cases with successful results, the memory of that conversation at the cocktail party would crop back up at odd moments. Funny how something as simple as a smile and a wink can ingrain itself into your mind. The following December, I took my mother for a winter visit to my grandmother in Alcantara. Grandmother had sold the beach property, where the old family home had stood, to a developer, and was living in a new apartment building in the booming hillside neighbourhoods of Portavedra. The whole country’s appearance was dramatically changing due to the massive developments coming in the wake of the successful diamond mine on the island of Isabella. Most telling change of all was the opening of the airport. We were able to fly in on a nonstop flight, four hours from Toronto versus the former all-day trip of two flights and a ferry. Our fellow passengers were nearly all tourists, bound for the new and hugely popular resorts on Serafina, and one or two looked askance when I told them we were spending our holidays right in Portavedra. My mother opted to stay for a couple of months, while I flew home again after a two-week vacation. That beach break did me a world of good, though, after all the activity of the last months. The next year, I flew down with her again, and this time she decided she wanted to sell her condo in Toronto and live in Alcantara, full time. I agreed to handle the sale for her and said that I could pack up anything she wanted me to send down. She gave me a list of things, and then arranged herself an apartment in the same building as her mother. One day in early December, during that trip, I was lounging on the beach, thinking my thoughts while working on my tan in my usual speedo. A voice cut across my reverie. “Excuse me. Haven’t we met before?” I couldn’t see his face very well because of the hat and sunglasses. “I’m not sure, I can’t see your face.” “Well, then, you take your sunglasses off too.” This was followed by a musical laugh – and I knew right away who it was. As soon as I pulled off my sunglasses, he laughed again. “Ah, yes, the man who can’t pronounce my perfectly straightforward Japanese name.” I laughed myself, and said, “Well, feel free to pull up a chunk of sand and sit down.” Passing lightly over the conversation that followed, it’s enough to say that the day progressed from there via swimming in the ocean – he was every bit as competent a swimmer as I was – to drinks in my hotel, then to a spectacular dinner in the hotel restaurant, and from there to a nightcap in my room. Somewhere along the line, Tommy had given me a new name. “I can’t call you Rick, or Ricky. I can’t and I won’t. Too teenage boyish. And I won’t call you Richard, that’s for formal business meetings and embassy receptions. You’re Rich.” “Well, yes, I am, but what does that have to do with it?” He silenced me with a playful little slap, actually more than half a caress, across my hand. “I’m calling you Rich. It suits you perfectly, because you’re rich in so many things, not just money.” Okay, I’m Rich – and that became my preferred name with him and with friends from then on. I not only couldn’t argue with Tommy, I didn’t want to. Everything about Tommy captivated me, not just the laugh. A fascinating conversationalist, a light-hearted jokester who brought the same out in me (legal practice had a way of suppressing that part of my personality), a balancing serious and thoughtful side, a kind and caring heart, a gourmet cook, a wine and whisky aficionado, and a taut, lean body which cut through the water like a knife, with a noticeable bulge in the front of his speedo – I mean, really, what’s not to like? It was easy to follow his example when he put down his glass, turned, and began to kiss me deeply as we sat together on the sofa in my hotel room. Things moved on from there, about as you might expect. Before long we were undressing each other, and his expert fingers were doing things to my body that no one before had ever managed, finding new touch points all over me to wake me up and make my erection bigger and harder with each passing second. I realized he was having similar thoughts about me when he pulled down my briefs and said, “Wow! All this and well-hung too!” With that he dropped to his knees and swallowed my meat all the way down. If I’d thought his fingers were magical, then the sensations his talented mouth and throat were giving me were beyond miraculous. I was struggling to hold on, not wanting to cum too soon, because I wanted to get a really thorough look in at that firm, slim Asian ass. At last, I urged him up and off, then stood, took his hand, and walked him over to the bed, turning down the covers before he lay down and urged me to join him. And that’s when he asked the Big Question that now preceded pretty much any and every trip to the bedroom. “Status?” “Negative. Tested regularly.” “Same here. Rubbers?” “Only if you want to.” He laughed and shook his head. I moved fast then, grabbing his legs and rolling him over, so that his muscled back tapered down temptingly towards that perfect ass. I had my face buried between those cheeks almost before he knew what hit him, judging by the surprised gasp and moans of joy. I ate his butt for a good fifteen minutes until I had my own cock rock-hard and dripping, and he had become a quivering mass of ecstatic jelly. It was time. I placed my cockhead against his hole and felt it already beginning to open up, needing it, wanting it, avid to be fucked. As I began to slide into him, Tommy moaned “Yeaaahhhh,” in a long, sustained purr. His ass opened right up and ate my cock, all the way down, until it was completely hidden from view. Then I lay down, full length, on top of him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and kissing his cheek repeatedly. As I did that, I slowly squirmed around, making my tool stir his guts into a froth of excitement. He turned his head to the side and thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. That was my signal to start humping. Moving slowly at first, I gradually accelerated, shifting gears until I was going at full highway speed, in overdrive, hips smacking out a rapid tattoo against his tight butt cheeks. As I did, I slowly lifted up off his body until I was leaning over him at an angle, driving and thrusting into him like a mad thing. At that speed, I couldn’t hold off long, and he knew it as well as I did. He heard my harsh, irregular breathing, almost gasping for air, and started squeezing down as hard as he could with his ass muscles. I was seconds away from cumming, and he growled, in a sexy animal voice, “Come on stud, cum inside me! Fill me up with your seed!” And I did. I exploded deep inside him, my cock pouring out a tidal wave of sperm into his body. As the intense spasms died down, my arms lost their strength and I collapsed on top of him again, once more exchanging tongue kisses as our breathing returned slowly to normal. At last I asked him, “Did you cum?” “No. I saved it for you.” With that, Tommy suddenly reared up, throwing me clear off his body and over onto my back beside him. In the time it took me to think how can such a slim beanpole of a guy be so damn strong? he had my legs in the air and was prodding his rigid cock at my hole. I felt a momentary panic. “Wait! I haven’t been fucked for years and you’re going to need some lube.” “This will do.” He reached back, swiped his hand up his ass crack and came up with a palmful of my cum which apparently was pouring out of him. He slapped some on my hole, wiped the rest on his crack, and said, “There! Self-lubed!” Then he proceeded to push into my hole. I let out a cry of protest, but Tommy muffled it by planting his mouth firmly on mine and kissing me passionately. To my amazement, it worked. Between the passion and the impromptu lube, and what I later recognized was a strong desire to be fucked again, my hole opened up and let him in. Somehow, I’ve never forgotten my astonishment on that first night that such a slim man, inches shorter than me, could somehow swell his decent-sized but not giant cock large enough to fill and stretch me all the way. But that magical trick was what he did and then, pushing my legs back over my head, he proceeded to fuck me. And boy, did he ever fuck me! I’d never had such a ride in my life, combining all the strength of some of the huge tops of my past like Andre with all the subtlety that only an artist of sex could bring to it. Tommy was an artist of sex, in no uncertain terms, and he gave me such a spectacularly varied ride that I felt ashamed of myself for my own relatively poor showing. He also lasted a lot longer than I did, changing positions, and fucking me six ways from Sunday at every angle you could think of. Every time he changed it up, he would grab my body and flip me into the new position as if I were a rag doll or his stuffed bear. At last, though, he returned to missionary and proceeded to pound me fast and straight and hard until his load erupted volcanically inside me. As he did, my cock, now hard again, started screaming for release. I grabbed it, jerked it violently seven or eight times, and blew another load across my chest and abs while he was still pumping his into me. Afterwards, as we calmed down again, we fell back onto the bed side by side, and slowly rolled together. Arms around each other, we kissed until we got sleepy and then we let ourselves go, sleeping deeply and peacefully in our lovers’ embrace. The next night saw a tremendously varied return engagement, so to speak. My mother and grandmother certainly noticed that they were suddenly not seeing as much of me. When they did see me, it was my mother who asked why. I invited them to guess, and my grandmother hit the nail right on the head. “Ricky’s met somebody, and he’s fallen in love, that’s why.” I smiled sheepishly. My mother pounced on that right away. “When a man smiles like a sheep, you know he’s been shot through the heart by Cupid. Is it serious, Ricky?” “I think so.” For the rest of the week, we spent hours together every day, whenever Tommy’s schedule allowed. We sunned on the beach and swam in the ocean. We talked for hours about our lives, our pasts, our hopes, our dreams. We got around to a good selection of the new restaurants popping up in Portavedra, including a memorable dinner of local fish at Aquarius, which undoubtedly became – and remains – our go-to favourite. As I look back on that week, I realize now that we were laying the groundwork for a lifetime spent together, not that I quite saw it that way at the time. On the last night before I was to fly home, I went to Tommy’s apartment. He’d cooked up a wonderful dinner of fresh local shellfish with a spicy fruit salsa, far better than any of the restaurants in town could offer. The wine was an impressive vintage from a small Austrian winery. The coffee was just as delicious. After dinner, we sat and chatted for a few minutes, but then Tommy stood up decisively, reached out for my hand to draw me to my feet, and said, “We have so little time, and we’re wasting it.” In the bedroom, though, we really took our sweet time making out, kissing and swapping tongues, and slowly, seductively undressing each other. He had such sensitive hands and fingers and could give me the shivers by stroking any part of my body with his gentle, magical touch. But I also loved the way his arms would slide slowly around my torso and then suddenly tighten, crushing my body against his as he roughened up his kisses, forcing his hot, demanding mouth hard against mine. Eventually, we got right down to our briefs, and it was my turn to peel his off first. I had to pull his waistband a long way out to clear his cock which was already tenting the material, but eventually I got it clear and began to carefully tongue his tool. Before long he was holding the sides of my head and forcefully fucking my face, driving his hard meat down into my throat over and over. But then he started to pull back, saying, “I’ve got to stop before you make me cum.” “Like hell you’re stopping. I’m going to drink your load right now.” I plunged back down, sucking harder than ever, and in moments his cock quivered, contracted, and expelled his sperm forcefully into my throat. I pulled back a bit to get it all in my mouth. Then I stood up and kissed him again, swapping his cum with him in an ecstatic snowball. My own cock was now dripping wet and ready for action, but I held off to let him recover. Instead of attacking him instantly, I swept him up in my arms, and strode to the bed while Tommy giggled joyfully like any blushing bride in a 1950s romantic comedy. After I dropped him on the bed, I climbed on top and lay down full length. Over the next hour I fucked two loads of cum into his ass, and in between he returned the favour by loading me up again too. Afterwards, as we lay curled up together, cuddling and caressing, I knew that this was it. I just knew. This was love – no, more than that, this was the great love of my life. This man was my perfect partner and counterweight, and I wanted to spend my life with him and no one else. And just as I was thinking that, Tommy spoke. “I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.” “So do I, Tommy.” “Rich, maybe this is crazy, and it’s certainly too soon, but I can’t help myself. Because when you know, you know. Rich, I love you.” “It’s not crazy, and it’s not too soon. I love you, Tommy. I love you and I want to be with you forever.” That was it – the moment we committed to each other for life. We never questioned, never doubted, never turned aside from that purpose, from that night on. He sighed, a sigh full of bliss and contentment and, laying his head down on my chest, he fell asleep. I followed right after him into dreamland. I dreamed of being with him, of living together in a beautiful house, high up on the hills, overlooking Portavedra. When I thought about those dreams afterwards, on my flight back to Canada, that’s when I realized what I should have known all along, that Alcantara was really my natural home and the place where I belonged – but it was because Tommy was there. When I awoke in the morning, he was propped up on one elbow beside me, kissing me awake. He then backed off and looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Welcome back to real life, Sleeping Beauty.” I reached for him, pulled him down into my arms, and began kissing him intensely and deeply. But he pushed me away again, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Uh-uh. You need to get down to the airport ferry terminal and check in for your flight before the ten o’clock ferry to the airport, and I have to clean up the mess you’ve left here before my one o’clock lecture. Up and at ‘em, lover boy!” What else could I do but laugh with him? But I got up, showered, dressed, and downed a delicious cup of coffee and two homemade hot croissants before it was time to say goodbye. I’d already said goodbye to my mother and grandmother the afternoon before, telling them that I would go directly to the airport in the morning. I’d also checked out of the hotel a day early. And I didn’t want to go. But I knew it was only for a short while, just long enough to finish off my cases in Toronto and clear out my condominium and my mother’s condominium for resale. However, the senior partners of the firm had different ideas. When they got wind of my plans to leave the firm and move out, they called me in to offer me a different approach. Thanks to the case for the Alcantaran government, we’d gotten several other requests for representation from Alcantara. The partners were aware of, and entirely sympathetic to, my desire to be with the man I loved. They had also done their research and determined that there was a dire shortage of general law offices in the country. Their idea was that we would expand our reach by opening an office in Portavedra, using several lawyers and extending service across the entire country. And they would add me to the senior partners of the firm, putting me in sole charge of the new office. I was up for that challenge. Within a month, I had completed the task of wrapping up my life in Toronto and had moved in with Tommy in Portavedra. His apartment was all right for one but a bit crowded for two, and it would soon be time to go shopping for something bigger and better. At the same time, I was going through the bureaucratic procedures involved in recertifying myself to practise law in Alcantara. This was less of an ordeal than I had feared, since Alcantara (like most of Canada) used a legal system based on the British common law tradition, which had been adopted wholesale after independence in the 1820s. Within a few months, I was cleared to go to work, and proceeded to establish my firm’s office in a bright new building downtown, near the waterfront, as well as hiring two young local lawyers to work for us. One of the first people I connected with upon settling in Alcantara was Benita. I promptly invited her for dinner and Tommy just as promptly charmed her with his easy-going welcome to our home. She, and her husband Grigor, became frequent and welcome guests. We also invited my mother and grandmother to visit with us, and they too succumbed quickly to Tommy’s polite deference and kindness as much as to his bubbling good humour. At the time, gay life in Alcantara was rather thin on the ground, but I saw no reason to conceal myself after having lived openly for so many years. When we held a reception to celebrate the opening of the office, I introduced Tommy to all and sundry as my life partner. By this time, too, I had finally – finally – mastered the trick of pronouncing his name. That made it easy for him to add on the usual, “but just call me Tommy” every time I introduced him. The event was written up in the local media and, just like that, Tommy and I became the Number One gay power couple and flag bearers in Alcantara (the term “power couple” hadn’t become common currency yet, but that’s definitely who and what we were). He took it in his stride, as he did most things that came his way. I was the one who found all the publicity a bit hard to get used to. Once the office was up and running, it was time to go house-hunting. I don’t know much about the various theories of prevision, but I know that we went to visit one house high up on the west side of the harbour, and as soon as we walked in I recognized it as the house I’d seen in my dream the year before. We bought it the next day. We then set to work on renovations, of which the largest was the major expansion of the relatively small deck and tiny little plunge pool out the back. That simply wasn’t good enough for two dedicated swimmers, and within a year we had a huge, paved terrace, partly covered by a projecting roof, a generously-sized pool, and an eight-person hot tub that together made outdoor living in all seasons a pleasure. Of course, being tropical, Alcantara had only two seasons: Wet and Dry. But even the wet season wasn’t bad at all, since the rain usually came on later in the afternoon and we were both born early risers. Within a couple of years, we had become fixtures on the local scene. People waved and called out greetings on the streets, which was not actually that uncommon in Alcantara, but it still surprised me how many people knew exactly who we were. Tommy had been offered a permanent position on the tenure track, which he would not likely have gotten at any established school at such a young age. The University of Alcantara, being brand-new, was anxious to build up a competent faculty. The condition was that he had to finish his PhD before he could be tenured. We had a long talk about that, and the long and the short of it was that he would have to return to his school in Toronto for a while, finish off some additional research, complete the writing of his thesis, and then defend the thesis. He was likely going to be away for half a year at least. Neither of us were very happy about that, but it was a job that had to be done. Before he left, we had a long talk about what we would do while we were apart, and especially about what we would do if we had the opportunity to have sex with other guys while we were separated. We finally agreed that it was likely to happen, and that we should go ahead with no guilt feelings – but that using condoms was an absolute must in each case. We parted reluctantly, with some of the longest kisses on record as we said goodbye, and then he was off and on his way to the airport, and I was returning home to – yet again – a depressingly empty house. We talked on the phone several times weekly, and I was still hoping to be able to get away for a few days to go up and visit – but the office was so damned busy that trying to escape seemed harder than ever. And then, one night at around the three-month mark of Tommy’s absence, it happened. A handsome young guy with a mass of curly blond hair perched on a bar stool near me at Aquarius and struck up a conversation. His name was Mikael, and he was here for a job interview with the government. He didn’t specify what job he was being interviewed for but hinted that it could make his career. He was a nice guy, with a friendly manner and (as I could see through his clothes) a good body, and I was enjoying the company. At last, though, I called for his bill and mine, and paid them both off. As we walked out together, he thanked me, and then asked, in a sultry voice, if there was anything he could do to make it up to me. From there, it was only a minute before I had agreed to go to his hotel room. Mikael was a total bottom, and that suited my mood. We made out for some time, undressing each other with a little haste, and then I went to work on his pretty, round ass with tongue and fingers. Before long, I mounted him from behind, pressing my way inside his ass and fucking him with a good deal of energy. My itch needed to be scratched in the worst way. It wasn’t until after I’d given him a deep, vigorous pounding and cum inside him that I withdrew – and found that the condom had burst so that I’d filled him up without meaning or wanting to do so. It was two months later that I met him again, and then in a very unexpected way. As part of another case I was working on for the government, I was called to a meeting with the then Premier and the Minister of Transportation and Communications at the office of the newly-elected President, Desmond Flowers. I gave my name to the receptionist when I arrived, and she said, “The President’s Executive Assistant will be here in a minute to take you back.” When the assistant arrived, it was Mikael. I recovered from the surprise quickly and greeted him conventionally and we walked down the hall, through the suite of offices to the President’s conference room. After the meeting, when the receptionist was out of earshot, he quietly invited me to meet him at his apartment and slipped me a card with his address. I agreed to go that night at 8:00 pm. Before we did anything else, I told him that this would be the last time I would meet him as my partner would be returning in a week. I also told him what Tommy and I had agreed on, so he would know it was all above board. Once again, I gave him a really thorough fucking. This time, though, when I felt the condom pop, I pulled out at once and finished off by hand, squirting across his back. That was when I realized that Mikael had probably tampered with the condoms in some way. No question about one thing, though. He was a good fuck, a good bottom, with a nice body and a good tight hole – but the magic which I always felt without fail with Tommy just wasn’t there at all. I didn’t need to tell Mikael that and maybe hurt his feelings. It’s just a pity that I hadn’t been a bit more observant in his bedroom. Tommy and I had a joyous reunion. He flew in on Friday afternoon, arriving at the house at 7:00 pm to find that I had a dinner all prepared, in the crock pot. I had every intention of having my way with him as soon as possible. I’d gone to the doctor for a test, “just in case,” after the first time I’d fucked Mikael, and it was all clear. I had repeated the test before Tommy came home, and again all was well. Best of all, Tommy had eaten on the flight and was perfectly agreeable to having our dinner later than usual. We got through half a glass of wine each before we locked mouths, moved sideways into the bedroom, still kissing, and proceeded to undress ourselves without bothering to stop kissing. The first wild round of sex saw each of us blowing a load inside the other’s ass, and it happened far faster than usual. We were so turned on to be together again that we got through two fucks and two enormous cum loads in barely twenty minutes. I don’t think I’d ever been that fast, even as a horny-beyond-belief teenager. By that time it was all but full dark outside, so we dashed out and leaped into the pool with nothing on, frolicking happily in the water, splashing each other, kissing each other, and quite a bit of groping each other. Both of us were still fully erect – at least, until the flashlight played over us and a voice with the full Majestic Authority of the Law demanded, “All right, what’s going on here?” I gave him my name, and explained that my life partner, Tommy, had just come home after a prolonged absence, and we were making up for lost time. He chuckled, and said, “We had a phone call of complaint from a neighbour down the road. How they could see anything this time of night, I don’t know. Probably got one of those infrared scopes. Just cover yourselves when you get out, and don’t try it again without suits on.” I thanked him, he withdrew, and Tommy and I scrambled out, holding a hand each over our now-shrunken cocks as we dashed into the house. As we went I glanced to the left and saw Mrs. Ironwood, three houses away, looking at us disgustedly. Inside, I told Tommy what I’d seen and we dissolved into helpless laughter. We then threw on some clothes and poured some more wine before finally sitting down to the Caribbean hotpot which I had cooked up. After all that energetic activity, it definitely hit the spot. Once we’d cleaned up from dinner, we headed right back to bed, making love less energetically but no less passionately until nearly midnight, when we drifted off to sleep, safely in each other’s arms once again. With Tommy back home, officially placing the letters “PhD” after his name, and taking up his full-time tenured position, we both felt completely established. One other step was needed, and that came when Tommy announced that, like me, he wished to acquire Alcantaran citizenship. On the strength of his relationship with me, he was granted an unusual exemption to be allowed to retain his Canadian citizenship as well. We had definitely put down roots in our new homeland. About six months after Tommy’s citizenship ceremony, I got a call from Benita asking to speak to both of us on a business matter. We invited her for dinner, and Grigor too, but she came without him, which surprised me. After we’d savoured Tommy’s lightly spiced chicken a la king (in homemade puff pastry shells, no less), she came to the point of the visit. “I’ve decided that I’m going to run for the Assembly, for the Social Democrats. My work has given me a unique perspective on the challenges that Alcantara faces with all this massive growth going on. I think I can bring some much-needed wisdom to the table, especially as we will certainly have to re-arrange the seat distribution in the Assembly soon, and then create a number of new seats to make it all work. Rich, I wanted to ask you if you would take on the management of my campaign. And Tommy, I needed to make sure you were also on board if he chooses to do so.” My instinctive reaction was that I would like nothing better than to help Benita realize her ambition, but I knew that I couldn’t do it. I knew she would have to resign her government job to run. My firm had just taken on two big cases for the government, and I couldn’t help her on the election without creating a massive conflict of interest. “I’m sorry, Benita. I’d really love to help you, but I can’t.” I explained the situation to her, and she nodded her understanding. I was truly sorry to let her down and said so. Benita, though, never remained down for long. It was her style to always keep moving forward, through all the twists and turns in the road, and my inability to help certainly would cause no harm to our friendship. I wasn’t at all surprised, but truly delighted when she won her seat by a landslide, winning more votes than her three opponents together (Progressive Labour, People’s Party, and Conservadores). She was one of a group of four new, younger members who were elected by the Social Democrats, and experts all felt it was a forecast of the larger results at the next election, since the incumbent Progressive Labour government was getting too cozy in the seats of power. As it turned out, things didn’t quite pan out that way. The next election came unexpectedly quickly, after less than two years, when a major financial scandal caused a mass exodus from the Progressive Labour caucus, the defeat of the government, and the resignation of the Premier. However, the governing party managed to nominate new candidates in all seats, select a new leader, and eked out another slim majority win at the polls. The demoralized leader of the Social Democrats, now a 3-time loser, resigned in his concession speech on election night. And Benita came calling again. This time, she’d decided to run for the party leadership. I might still have government cases on my docket, but this was a job I could do. I plunged wholeheartedly into organizing her campaign, and Tommy (somewhat to my surprise) contributed hours of his time as well. We lined up a small but tight staff group, produced position papers and speech outlines (just outlines, heaven help the backroom boy who tried to give the supremely articulate Benita a pre-written speech!), and lobbied endlessly and intensively. When the leadership votes were counted, Benita won a decisive victory on the first ballot, shocking the old-line party greybeards. Through the next four years in opposition, Benita made a habit of running rings around the leader and members of the governing party, repeatedly skewering the weaknesses in their policies as decisively as she had speared the corporate arguments in that case in Canada when I first met her. Tommy said to me once, as we watched her in action on the news, “You know she’s going to be the next Premier.” I nodded. “And when she runs again, she’s going to ask you to run as well so she can put you into her Cabinet.” “You think?” I replied ironically. But Tommy, for once, was dead serious. “Yes. She is. And you’ll do it. And I’ll have to be a politician’s wife.” We both laughed at that, but by now I had a healthy respect for Tommy’s ability to read me. And sure enough, it all panned out exactly as he had predicted. During her years in opposition, the government had undertaken the necessary changes to the composition of the Assembly. The legwork of actually doing it had been handed to a non-partisan commission, with professional statisticians and surveyors to make sure it was done properly and clearly. When the time came for the election, I successfully secured the party’s nomination for the Greenhills seat, one of six new seats created on the island of Alcantara. It included the street where we lived. Two new seats were added on Serafina, and two on Isabella, reflecting the larger permanent populations on those islands. Tommy became my campaign manager. I had taken a year’s leave of absence from my job to avoid any suspicion of conflict of interest. When asked in an all-candidates meeting, I immediately declared that if I won the seat, I would instantly resign outright from the law firm. I had very clear ideas about the importance of well-planned development, especially in the semi-rurals area outside the centre of Portavedra, and about the need for clearer legislation on a number of the social issues which development brought in its wake. When the votes were counted on election night, 2009, I won my seat by a clear majority, while the Social Democrats under Benita swept the board, winning all but 4 of the 31 assembly seats. My partners at law, and the staff in Alcantara, accepted my resignation with genuine regret. And, exactly as Tommy predicted, Benita called me the next day. After I had offered her my congratulations, she immediately said, “Now, Rich, congratulations right back at you. Not just for winning Greenhills. I would like to invite you to serve in my Cabinet as Minister of Justice.” “I would be honoured.” “Hey, Rich, let me finish, will you?” Benita was never one to stand overlong on her dignity. “As I was going to say when somebody interrupted me, Minister of Justice -- and Deputy Premier.” “Thank you, Benita. As I said, I would be honoured. But, and I’m sure you’ll understand, I need to talk to Tommy before I can give you a decision.” “Of course, Rich. Can you let me know by, let’s say, Thursday?” It was Tuesday. “Of course, I’ll talk about it with him tonight.” Tommy didn’t waste any time beating around the bush. When he walked in the door from work, his first words (in a very arch tone) were, “Get any interesting calls from any lady friends today?” Of course I laughed. And then I filled him in on the situation. His reply was absolutely typical. “Rich, I know this is what you want to do. And I knew it would happen when I agreed to run your campaign. No need for you to worry, I’m behind you 110% of the way.” I took some time out to kiss him happily, to run through the day’s events over dinner, and to enjoy a relaxing evening in bed, watching a movie on TV. Okay, we didn’t spend much time actually watching the movie, because the live action there in the bedroom was so much more interesting than a synthetic love scene between a couple of disinterested actors mouthing formulaic lines. The new Premier and Cabinet were sworn in by President Flowers the next Monday morning, followed by the traditional formal photograph and luncheon at the official Presidential mansion. The President was at his benign, patriarchal best that day. He’d been a leading figure in Alcantaran electoral politics for two decades, rising to become a successful premier for two terms. After he’d retired from the legislative sphere, he had won election as the President, the ceremonial figurehead of government. Since that time, his party – the Conservadores – had been steadily dropping in popularity, but his own personal popularity as an elder statesman ensured that he had continued to win re-election to this dignified post. Two days after the swearing-in, I got a call from his secretary to set an appointment for the Friday morning. At that meeting, he was a different man altogether. The gloves were off. “Sit down, Mr. Dunnatore. I have something here which I think will be of interest to you.” He switched off the lights and powered up the TV and the DVD player. What appeared on the screen was a hot gay fuck scene. At least, it was hot until I heard the voices and realized it was a clear-as-day video of me fucking Mikael. Faces, voices, everything about it was totally exposed to the all-seeing eyes of the universe. My instant reaction was fury at that goof Mikael for filming us without telling me. Then I went through equal anger at myself for not being alert to the presence of a camera, and – as a side thought – wondering what Carlo would say if he saw this. Of course, Flowers was watching me closely and saw all those emotions playing across my face. There was no point in denying the validity of the recording. I had confessed as clearly as if I had said the words aloud. He switched off the TV and turned the lights back on. “I’ll spare you any further embarrassment – for now. The question is, what are you going to do about it? I’m sure you wouldn’t want your boyfriend (he spat the word out) to have to see this.” “He might enjoy it. I already told him all about me and Mikael.” Flowers drummed his fingers on the desk. “That’s not my major concern, and it shouldn’t be yours either. He might not care, but a large percentage of voters probably would. Not having lived in this country as long as I have, you might not realize entirely just how many of the votes the Social Dems received were what might be classified as ‘protest votes’ – in other words, votes that you can’t necessarily count on winning again. Also, there’s the question of how many old-time Alcantarans might find your lifestyle, ah, objectionable.” He was wrong. I was aware of these fine distinctions. Unlike him, I had campaigned extensively door to door. “Now, Mr. Dunnatore, if you are a wise man, and I think you are, here is what you are going to do. With some help from you and Mikael, we are going to set up a new interviewing process. I have several retirements coming up in my staff over the next few years, and those vacancies are mine to fill. I’ve already spoken to Mikael about his role in this process. “Mikael’s role is to conduct preliminary screening interviews with all candidates. He will then take selected candidates through a further interview process, similar to the one you just saw on the screen. If they pass his approval, they will then be referred to you. You will likewise interview them, and in exactly the same manner as you did with Mikael. Once you have interviewed and approved them, they will be sent on to me for my final approval, and then appointed to specific positions on my staff with certain, ah, added responsibilities. All interviews are to take place in your office, and on scheduled office time.” I was almost in shock at his audacity. But I quickly rallied – or tried to. “And if I refuse to participate in this flagrantly illegal scheme?” He smiled benignly. “I think you would shortly get a call from the Premier, demanding your resignation after she’d seen a certain video recording making the rounds on the internet – with names.” I knew that I was trapped. “I’ll have to think about this.” “Don’t take too long to think. Mikael will be conducting his first interviews next week. He already knows exactly what the expectations are, and what will happen to him if he doesn’t proceed according to plan. I’ll expect your answer no later than Monday morning.” He stood up and nodded in dismissal.

Part 2 Tom looked like shit which was rare for him. "Look, I'm not going to live like this. You have a few options" I said. I had rehearsed this because I really didn't want to leave him. I came up with a few good options and one crazy one, which I told him calmly while he softly sobbed. In hindsight, it was one good option, one bad option, one selfish option and one crazy one. "One, we can walk away and give up on almost seven great years. Two, we can close our relationship back up. Or at least you can, since I like hooking up with other guys and haven't had any issues other than a few mediocre fucks. Three, you can go on PrEP so you can let anyone fuck you and not have to worry about getting infected with HIV. I think we can deal with the other curable ones and they come with having lots of partners. Or four, you can go get yourself pozzed up, go on meds and not have to worry about catching it again, like Dennis" I said. I took one more sip of the crappy Malbec and stood up, adding "Let me know what you decide" before I walked back to my hotel. "You told him what?!?!" Dennis exclaimed when I talked to him the next day. "Well, I could only come up with the one good idea and I don't like to give ultimatums. I don't want to leave him and only allowing me to play on the side is a selfish choice since I'm not going to give it up and he's proven he can't do it well. So... I basically told him to get on PrEP or we were done" I told Dennis. "Uh... you gave him a choice and based on how scared he is of losing you, he might take the easy way out. You told him it was ok, too, since it was one of the options you told him. I do know a couple guys that would pay good money to charge up a hot neg guy like him" Dennis said. The chuckle he made after his comment was a little disconcerting. "Nah, he wouldn't do that. But, you're doin ok, right?" I asked, just in case Tom did something crazy and chose my fourth option. "I'm fine. It's fun collecting as much toxic seed as I can and then have a neg guy stuff his dick in it. Uh... want to meet up Saturday at the Watering Hole?" he asked. "Yeah, sure. Nine ok?" I asked and he replied "Sounds good." A few of Dennis' comments had rattled me and I was thinking about them all night. -- "Got a minute" came the text the next afternoon. He called when I said "ok" and his attitude was very different. Tom was calm and serious. "I've been thinking about our meeting and your options. I think I can rule out number one, since I want to make this work. All of my freakouts have been because I'm scared of losing you. This past week has made it painfully clear that I need you in my life" Tom said. "I want to make it work too, but I'm not interested in the emotional rollercoaster we've been on" I replied. "Can I be honest with you? I mean, brutally honest?" Tom asked. "Of course" I replied. "I'm kind of turned on taking poz loads. The undetectable ones like Patrick and Dennis have don't do it for me any more. The thought of taking unmedicated ones with high viral loads just turns me on so much. I'm just afraid that if I get pozzed, you'll dump me" Tom said. "So you'd rather become a psycho bitch every couple months and make me dump you for that?" I asked. "I don't want to lose you for any reason" Tom told me. "Well, think about this. If you go through with it, it's a life long commitment. You shouldn't do it just for a wild fuck or ten, or just to make a hookup seem hotter. Talk to Patrick and find out what its really like, long term. PrEP is a much more sensible option" I said. Tom's bombshell wasn't nearly as much of a shock after the discussion I'd had with Dennis. Looking back, it kind of made sense, which meant he wasn't just making shit up to get back together or to shock me. A few hours later I was on my way over to Dennis' place. I needed to talk this whole thing out with him but I was also horny as fuck. When I got there, two guys were just leaving. I had seen both of them at the gym over the past few years. The black guy was thick and muscled and the Latino was about fifty pounds lighter with big arms, a classic vee leading down to an eight-pack. Both reeked of pot and giggled as they walked by, winking at me. Dennis was inside the doorway, wearing only a huge grin. The skunky aroma barely covered up the smell of fresh cum. He handed me a pipe and lighter and I took a hit of some really strong weed. The second hit was even longer and was exactly what I needed. The third I shotgunned into Dennis' mouth after letting my lungs soak up as much as they could. We ended up on the couch and I told him what Tom had said. I wasn't sure if he was just letting me talk through it or if he was too stoned to even hear my words. A ding came from his phone and he glanced at it to read the notification. He looked back at me, smiling, and said "I got a couple ideas, but first you're gonna have to give me what's trying to escape your jeans. That bulge is fuckin huge."

Would luv to get my hole more gaped...

You raise a good point. In my experience, fucking a preloaded hole gets me off in different way. If a guy hasn't taken any loads before mine, I like to use the bare minimum amount of spit, and add only a tiny bit of lube if he insists. I have been known to pull out, dry my dick, and repeat a few times, if the guy gets too wet. When a guy has already taken loads, I can cum in just a few minutes, regardless of the reduced friction. The smell of cum, the silky texture of the guy's cummy hole, the realization that he's a slut who collects sperm from random men, my fantasies about the other men who came before me, my fantasy that my sperm will win the "sperm war" and knock the guy up, and the forbidden nature of the whole situation (I wish more people were into collecting loads from multiple guys in the same session) all serve to heighten my arousal. Some bottom guys who like collecting loads rely on the boyfriend's or the husband's not noticing. I don't know how people could fail to notice, but maybe some partners don't want to know.

All right, you asked for it, lol. Here's the final instalment. Epilogue Several months later… I left the crowd behind me as I stepped on to the back porch of the fetish bar, not caring about the almost negative wind chill, and winter’s hateful snowfall. Thank goodness that whole nonsense with the Covid is over, and people are out enjoying themselves again. And the boys are as hungry as ever, making up for lost time, and plundering holes and nutsacks as much as they can. A lot of earlier limits don’t matter so much now - barely legal, geriatric, pretty, overweight, meth heads, toxic - they are all practically foaming at the mouth for sex. The best part is they don’t even ask status anymore. I’ve put a significant number of notches in my bedpost since my summer visit with Rick as a result. I pulled the Asylum from my motorcycle jacket’s front pocket, clicked open the torch, and a blaze erupted before my face. I turned the thick stick in my mouth, puffed hard, and when the cherry was fully lighted, off went the torch. Rick was right - I *am* a cigar pig, and while my bank account isn’t too happy with the new deduction (nor are my lungs or my doctor), I don’t give a fuck. I’m connected to this, and it’s a great memory of a man I no longer see. As the smoke curled upward, I began to reflect on how I got here. Rick’s bugs did the trick. I went home and back to my normal life, though by the end of the weekend, I bought a full box of fat cigars, a guillotine, and a torch. My house is now powerfully impregnated with their odor. When my sister came to visit, she said, “It smells like a humidor in here.” And every time I fire up, I remember her saying that and how Rick gave me what I wanted. Then the seroconversion came twelve days later. I awoke in the night, frying and freezing at the same time. The bedsheets were already quite soaked with sweat, and it didn’t take me two seconds to realize that Rick actually did it. All it took was one dose of his toxic poz seed, and my destroyed hole, and we were there. I actually had my doubts prior to this night, and talked myself into believing that Rick refused to break character until I was out the door. Ten bucks says he went straight to his chest of drugs and resumed his medication. Then I got only silence from him. No contact whatsoever. No follow-up, no text saying “Hey, how’s your hole doing?”. Just … nothing. The first morning after the conversion, I texted him briefly. “Yo, Rick. It’s happening. I feel like I’m dying. Congratulations, you’re a poz dad! And thank you.” A few minutes passed, then I got back a single emoji as a reply: 😈 No other words accompanied it. Didn’t hear from him again. I think he’s mad at me. It was entirely his decision to come off the meds, but I think maybe he hates himself for it, and doesn’t want to deal with me. I broke his perfect healthy world with my request, and maybe he couldn’t take the stress of it. I really don’t know what happened. His friends say he’s fine, just “super busy”, but no real details of anything about him or his life. But I choose to not cling to people that don’t want to talk to me, so I let it go after a few weeks. And I was unbelievably horny after I was able to walk again. The sickness lasted only a couple days, and it was no worse than the usual flu, though I did have diarrhea rather badly at the start. And then it was over. But the horn - it never fucking stopped! As soon as I felt like myself again, I got on my hookup sites, changed my status on my profiles, and let the world know I was poz. An avalanche of messages and winks and woofs suddenly popped into my message centers, and I was a very busy boy! My hookups went from me just being a bottom ho to a full-on top poz breeder. After the first three days of constant sex, I had to give myself rest. My dick was rubbed so raw that I was getting a scab on the shaft, and my balls were shooting out less and less cum from being emptied so often. They couldn’t turn it out fast enough! So far, I’ve had eleven confirmed conversions, but most of the others are unknown. They didn’t report any change, so I didn’t ask. I fuck them, I dumped a hot charged load in them, and leave them. On to the next one, and I seldom see the same guy twice. It’s about quantity while I’m still super infectious. Guess I’m making up for lost time, too. Eventually it caught up to me when I nailed a prissy bear, and when I told him, “I’m going to infect you now,” he screamed the walls down until his neighbor came, and seeing the bear in restraints - which was his fantasy - and me naked over him… Well, let’s just say I lost a tooth that day. It’ll be a long time before I go back into that part of the city. But I have no regrets. I would have liked to have more control over when it happened, but as it was my inevitable destiny, I may as well embrace it. And I did. My toxic seeds are being spread by others, some known, others not. And it’s fucking empowering. I’m like a nasty poz god, corrupting countless men’s holes without ever leaving my street. It made me chuckle. While lost in these memories, I realized I’d smoked nearly half the cigar, and have been out here almost twenty minutes. I silently stared at the night sky. So many stars. And for some reason, I said aloud, “The seeds that go out from my body. Look at the stars. I cannot count them, but so shall my seed be.” It was a perverted quote and I found it hilarious. As my mind wallowed in the humor of the situation, I flicked my ash over the wooden balcony. “I never took you to be a biblical scholar,” a voice suddenly said next to me. My head quickly turned to the left to face the voice, but I couldn’t make out the face. The alley back here was too damn dark to see distinctly if it wasn’t directly in front of you, plus this space was quite smoky. The person came closer. My eyes widened. It was him. He gave me the once-over at my new look. “Looks like my work was more thorough than I thought.” I was stunned. “Rick! Shit the bed, how have you been?” I was overjoyed at this unexpected reunion. I hugged him tightly and released him quickly. “I’ve been asking around about you since the summer, and no one could give me a straight answer, but fuck! It’s good to see you!” “Easy, bro,” he said, raising his gloved hand. “After we fucked, I needed to get away, so I took a long trip around America. I needed to be away from people, and Covid, and politics, and just took a long extended vacation. I’m back on the meds, and healthy again.” “That’s good.” “Are you happy with the life you’ve chosen?” His usually musical tone was suddenly monotone and discordant. I looked away for a second. I put the Asylum back in my jaw, and pulled up my leather pants by grabbing the belt buckle with both fists. I posed seductively as if for a motorcycle calendar. My Muir cap tipped slightly, and I said, “What do YOU think?” with a big grin on my face. He gave several small nods of the head in approval. “Very good, you look like a genuine leatherman. But what have you done with my… gifts?” He said that last word rather knowingly. I turned my head away ever so slightly. “Oh, you know, the usual. Seedin’ and breedin’. Staying off the meds as long as I can take it. Life is for the living, and I am doing it on my terms.” Non-committal responses? “Steve, you’re an asshole,” I thought to myself. Rick’s face contorted to incredulity. “You’re still not on them? Dude. Fuck.” He shook his head, blinked once or twice, and sighed. “It’s your life. Do what you want. Also, do this.” He pulled his right hand forward, and for the first time, I saw a chain in his hand as a smaller body came forward from behind him. It was a human pup, completely dressed in his fetish gear. A few extra pounds, but his color was definitely blue, and he didn’t speak unless spoken to. The chain in Rick’s hand ended around the pup’s neck. “Dog. I picked this one up in Florida. MONSTER COCK and deadly as fuck.” Rick said proudly. “I’m showing him a good time while I still can. AND he has a greeting present for you. Dog?” The pup cocked his head, listening. “Give him a Cuban Delight,” Rick said to Dog in an evil voice, followed by a grin to match. “Ruff!” He did his best imitation of dog panting. “You’re gonna die tonight.” I could see a fire behind Dog’s eyes. He was also charged, like Rick and me, but with… something different. Curious. 🤔 I stubbed out my cigar, smiling wickedly. I knew I was about to get another upgrade. “This oughta be good.” THE END