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I woke up the next morning and did some stuff around the house. I washed clothes, cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed and even cleaned the pool. I met my friends for early drinks and then came home kind of drunk around 9:30 pm. I was feeling horny. I went on BBRT and started to look up profiles again. I looked up the following. 60+yrs old Muscular, average, slim builds Top only Give load in ass, No taking load in ass Give load in mouth, Take load in mouth HIV+ Into kissing, BDSM I hit search. 22 profiles popped up in a 25 mile radius 15 were online I looked them over. There was hot dudes and some old trolls. Several caught my eye. One stood out. TOP 4 Fun and More Older top here. Looking for young guys to play with. I am into connections first then sex. Chemistry is important. Looking for LTR with bottom not one-night stands. I want our passion and pleasure to endure. I am open to convert those bottoms who are worthy. My cock got hard as I read his profile. I opened up his pics and he was handsome, tall and had a nice slim build. When I opened his cock pic my jaw dropped. It was 10" and thick. He had a PA in some pics and none in others. He had what looked like a young slim bottom taking his whole cock. And then the next pic with a huge puddle of cum leaking out of his ass. I grabbed the dildo, lubed it and then shoved it in my ass. I slammed it home looking at this guys pic. It didn't take long for me to cum hard and shoot all over my stomach and bed. I hungrily licked it all up. I kept looking at other profiles and also found another hot one. Daddy looking for Boy Dominant Daddy Top POZ looking for sub boy for LTR. NO minors. Must be 19-28 yrs of age ideal. Must be willing to submit and serve my needs. Only those who are worthy get to be bred and marked by me. Live in situation possible and expected for a committed sub. His pics were hot too. He had a strong face with a beard. He had a daddy bear build to him and a good 8" thick cock with a large PA ring. He had pics of him in leather and a sub in same. I got the dildo again but put it on the cushion and road hit hard. I was so horny. I rode it till I shot again all over the floor. I licked up and cleaned off the dildo. I read more profiles and just go horny again. I didn't know why I was so horny and I couldn't stop reading the profiles and looking at the photos. They all made me so horny. This time I jacked off my cock with lube and squeezed it hard. I was so desperate to cum again even though I had just cum 10 minutes ago but I didn't care. Finally I came with a dribble but it felt good. I was spent and tired and fell asleep.

**This is a work of fantasy and fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Nothing in this work should be construed as medical advice in any way** “Ric” “Mateo” and “Miguel” appear in several of @chi4loads’ stories, including “Ric’s Freshman Year,” and,” and “Ric's 2nd Year At University,” with gracious permission from @chi4loads. You should all read them, they are smokin’ hot stories! [think before following links] https://breeding.zone/topic/71582-rics-freshman-year/ [think before following links] https://breeding.zone/topic/75558-rics-2nd-year-at-university/ CHAPTER 6: As arranged, Matthew Hill met them at the shopping mall, which was bustling with activity – groups of teenagers running and shouting and making mischief, Moms with kids in strollers, elderly people doing a mall-walk circuit, sullen mall employees shuffling around with brooms or maybe store workers on a break, sneaking cigarettes just outside the entrance or eating a quick lunch in the food court. He arranged to meet them here, as it was a central place to all three men. Ric and Mateo lived not three miles away in a affluent suburb while Matthew’s medical practice was a few miles in the other direction. Matthew hadn’t seen them since college graduation ceremonies 10 years ago – and even then, it was just a quick shake of hands and a whispered message, from Mateo into Matthew’s ear: “Anytime you want some pure toxic seed, Ric and I are available…we’re never going on meds, so whenever you’re ready, Matty.” “Matty.” They were the only people who ever had called him that, and the sound of it coming from Ric or Mateo’s lips always got Matthew’s cock stirring, just a bit. He had worked so hard to become “Dr Hill,” that them calling him “Matty” was almost thrilling, in a sneaky, almost forbidden way. He couldn’t fully explain it, all he knew was it made his cock stir. Maybe it was the way they both fascinated and frightened him in college, with their unabashed celebration of their shared HIV status. “Hey, Matty,” he heard behind him, as they approached him on the 2nd floor by the escalators, the place they all agreed to meet. “You look great, Matty,” Mateo said “being a rich doctor certainly agrees with you.” “Oh, I don’t know about rich,” the young doctor replied, “my student loans say otherwise.” “Well, whatever it is,” Ric answered “it agrees with you….except for that one thing missing, right,” he said smiling and running his hands over his stomach and down to his crotch. Motioning ahead of them and off to the right, Ric points the way and says “It’s over here, cmon, boys, let’s get pozzing.” They led him through the throngs of people and stopped in front of what was soon to be a new store at this location: Mattress Universe, or so said the just-installed sign above the entrance, which was closed with a steel cage and a solid steel door behind that. Ric pulled out from his pocket a large ring of keys and finding the right one, unlocked the gate and pulled it upwards so the other 2 men and he could get to the galvanized steel door that came down from above. Unlocking and lifting that up, Ric and Mateo and Matthew stepped inside the empty store and slammed the heavy door closed behind them, although Ric left about a foot of space at the bottom of the metal door, meaning someone on their hands and knees could peer into this place if they wanted. “You leave that opened a bit like that,” Matthew asked, pointing to the space between the metal gate and the floor. “What if someone sees?” “Then they see,” Mateo calmly answered as he moved towards a row of mattress. It pays to advertise. Anyone gets offended they keep moving. Anyone gets excited, they might come back sometime to see what’s going on.” “And anyway,” Ric said, shaking the ring of keys “We’re the mall managers, we got every right to be here. We’re just lucky this store won’t be open for another 2 months…prime pozzing space!” “Now, Matty, get out of those clothes, or do we have to do that for you?” Mateo asked, unbuttoning his shirt and moving towards Matthew. The two men, poz predators that they are, circled around Matthew, who for the first time in his quest for poz status, looked wary of these alpha poz hunters as they sized up their prey. Matthew slowly undressed, undoing the buttons on his Oxford shirt and stripping off the white undershirt, exposing his lean and muscular frame. Ric and Mateo both were in no mood to wait for they were out of their clothes with Ric in front of the young doctor and Mateo in back, pressing his hardening poz, unmedicated, full-blown cock up against the negative flesh of Matthew’s bubble butt. Spitting in his hand and lubing up his AIDS-pole, Mateo quickly pushed Matthew down and drove his cock up the young doctor’s furry little hole, with Matthew letting out a sharp yelp. Mateo withdrew the invading toxic weapon “Nah, we wouldn’t do that to you, would we, Ric,” he assured Matthew, laughing at it. “No, we’ll go easy on you, Matty,” Ric reassured him, with a conspiratorial glance at his husband Mateo. They then led the idealistic young doctor over to a plastic-covered king-sized mattress, Ric telling his partner in depravity “I wanted to pierce his bubble butt first,” half-scolding his hubby Mateo, adding “been waiting 10 years to get up that pussy!” “But first, let’s get this plastic off of this thing,” he said, ripping up the covering from the mattress. Let’s christen this motherfucker right. We don’t ever fuck with a barrier.” They pushed Matthew down on the bed and lifted up his legs for easy access to the negative fuckhole they were about to violate. Mateo, deferring to Ric this time, lubed up his husband’s high-viral cock and Ric responded with beads of viral pre-cum from his pierced cockhead. Mateo gathered some of the seminal fluid on his fingertips and brought them to Matthew’s waiting mouth. “That’s the taste of HIV…enjoy it.” “OK, Matty, here we go, and once we’re in, we’re finishing this job and bringing you into the brotherhood,” Ric announced, plunging the slicked-up pole deep up the young doctor’s cunt. “Yeah, right to the hilt, you’ve got it Matty,” he told the doctor who was squirming at the anal assault, but Mateo lent his hubby a hand by holding down the young doctor and gripping him tightly. Was it a warm, loving embrace or a controlling hold to keep him from getting away, Matthew wondered as Ric drove his cock deeply in and out, while Mateo made sure he couldn’t move too much. Ric’s poz pre-cum was already infiltrating his system, marking him as one of the hundreds of men Ric and Mateo have added to their collection. How ever many further conversions those hundreds of men completed would never be known. Ric was clearly relishing the long-awaited opportunity to breed and seed the one from college “that got away,” for Matthew was literally the only guy who rebuffed Ric and Mateo’s advances and offers to join them in the brotherhood that is HIV/AIDS. But now, at last, his unmedicated cum is going to release its venom on this young doctor’s tight little hole. But as per his arrangement with his loving husband Mateo, his initial fuck of Matthew would now give way to Mateo’s rock hard 9-inch viral cock, and Ric withdrew from Matthew’s mancunt and made way for his husband. Mateo shifted around and without so much as a word to their victim, he drove the AIDS-stick deep up Matthew’s neg hole and let out a string of utterances highlighting his pleasure at the carnal and debauched infection of this young physician. “Oh, yeah, that’s the way, Matty, hold that ass open for me and my toxic cock…it’s working you over right now, Ric and my mutual strain bringing you right into Club Poz.” Mateo, fucking fast and furiously, couldn’t hold out much longer and intensifying his pounding of the doctor’s butthole, he unleashed a torrent of AIDS-cum inside Matthew’s cunt. Even for the multi-cumming Mateo of the legendary poz cum shots, this felt like the most HIV he had ever deposited up a guy’s ass and the deep fulfilment of a successful breeding showed on his face as he beamed a smile at his husband Ric, furiously stroking his own fat, pierced pozzing stick. Mateo finally finished shooting his strains deep up Matthew’s cunt and withdrew for his husband’s turn back up Matthew’s hole to upgrade the young doctor and in just a few strokes of his poz pole deep up Matthew’s ass, Ric followed up his husband’s cum-gusher with a poz fountain of his own HIV inside Matthew’s hole. Matthew, his head buried in the mattress just repeated “breed me, poz me” mantra he repeated every few seconds of the anal assault by the two toxic alpha breeders. Finally, when it was over and both men had done their best to impregnate him with HIV, Matthew turned and saw the two breeding bulls behind him, still stroking their still-hard poz cocks, but Mateo was motioning for another person from the back of the empty store to join them. Matthew wondered what was going on and as he raised his head to see who was approaching, he saw not one, but two men advancing, one a familiar face and one he did not know. “Matthew,” his nurse Keith announced, greeting his employer with a slap on Matthew’s butt. “These guys invited us here to watch but now I think I need to fuck as well. Keith free-swinging poz member, the one that fucked Matthew all those years ago at the glory hole, the one that sent Matthew into a panic at the very thought it might have been a pozfuck and that sent him to the Student Health Center for post-exposure meds, was now poised to enter and drill more poz seed into Matthew’s cunt. His thoughts about who the other man was went out of his head, and Matthew lay back down on the bare mattress and braced himself for another rough poz fuck from his own nurse, the hot hairy nurse Keith. If he had time to think, he’d consider how each man’s fuckgame was a bit different. Ric was fond of deep driving strokes and long and slow pullouts only to drive it back up hard and rough. Mateo, on the other hand, was more of a jackrabbit fuck, with short, staccato rhythms and several pauses to view his handiwork on a man’s pussy. This new fuck from Keith was different still, combining both Ric’s deep “to-the-hilt” technique with Mateo’s short stabbing technique every few minutes. All three men and their varying pozfucks sent Matthew over the edge and his own negative cock, which he hadn’t so much as touched since the all-out anal poz assault began, was streaming a steady stream of jizz onto the mattress. Keith was nearly finished with his handiwork inside Matthew’s cunt and let out a roar, saying “Finally I get the one hole I’ve wanted for years!” and then leaning down to Matthew, pulling him close and whispering in his ear, “since that night at the glory-hole, am I right,” followed by a torrent of HIV transferring from hunky nurse Keith into the warm wet insides of Dr. Matthew. Once Keith’s thrusting and pulsations of hot viral seed were fully deposited inside Matthew’s cunt, Mateo called over the 4th man, an older guy, tanned and ripped, Matthew surmised, from years of working outdoors. “This is Miguel,” Mateo explained. “My Dad. He’s high-viral poz, too, thanks to my husband Ric here,” Mateo continued, looking at his beaming husband and father. Matthew for a moment, through his fuckhaze, looked confused and Ric stepped up to say “It’s a long story,” laughing with his fellow poz buddies, as Miguel stripped off his T-shirt to reveal 2 huge bio-tats and 4 dark Xs across his hairy belly. He then undid his jeans and unleashed his own poz monster, the next one to go up the silky smooth, cum-filled pussy of Dr. Matthew. Miguel’s own fuck strokes were a lot like his son’s – fast, sharp and stabbing, but also with intervals of deep, slow pozfucking as well, and Miguel, being a man who likes to take his time, savored the young doctor’s cummy hole for all it was worth, peppering his fuckdrives with a string of Spanish words. He banged that poz weapon into Matthew’s ass for a full 10 minutes and then exploded with a cum-gusher full of toxic, poz, unmedicated seed, ready to bloom inside the young doctor’s hole. Dr. Matthew felt full of poz cum and yet wanted still more. “More,” he chanted. “Give me more,” he repeated. “More poz, More and More…Must join the Brotherhood, Must join The Ten,” he went on, fidgeting and squirming. “Sir,” came a voice. Again, “Sir,” followed by a tap on his shoulder. “Sir, we’re about to land in Los Angeles. Please return your seat to its upright position and fasten your seat belt for landing.” His eyes bolted open…he was still on the plane from Boston, about to arrive home in L.A. There was no Ric or Mateo in a mattress store, no Keith, and where had he heard of Mateo’s Dad Miguel? Keith must’ve mentioned it at some point. That mall where it all went down – that went out of business 5 years ago! Furiously adjusting himself under the airline blanket to try to make his rock hard cock go down, Matthew said “It was all a dream,” he said to himself, only it was loud enough for the flight attendant to hear. “Yes, sir, I think you were dreaming. Was it a good one?” the flight attendant asked with a smile. His nametag said ‘Calvin.’ “Yes, Calvin,” young Dr. Matthew replied, “it was a really nice dream.” “I should think so, you were saying some special things, Sir,” Calvin answered with a smile and a wink and a further pat on Dr. Matthew’s shoulder, then he began to turn away, and as he turned, Calvin lifted up his button down shirt at the waist to reveal 3 dark X’s tattooed across his mid-section. Pointing at them, he said to Matthew, “I know just what you mean, Sir,” he said with a devilish smile, before resuming his duties with the other passengers in business class. Matthew remained in a poz-desiring stupor as he deplaned, passing by Calvin who slipped him a note with his number on it, all the way to the baggage claim, where he was met by none other than one of the alpha bull poz predators from his dream, his hot hunky nurse Keith, who greeted him with a hug. Matthew then and there said to his nurse,” I need it from you, today and always. Poz me up, Keith.” END OF CHAPTER 6

Part 1 It all started at the nightclub The bass was a physical force, a deep, primal thrum that vibrated up from the soles of their feet and into their chests. Inside the packed club, the air was thick with heat, sweat, and the sweet, cloying scent of spilled drinks. Strobe lights sliced through the darkness, illuminating a sea of moving bodies. Jake stands at 5’11’’, brown hair, boyish food looks. Clean shaven. Average build. He’s wearing tight jeans and a sweat soaked black tank top. At 42, Jake moved with a comfortable confidence, his arm often finding its way around the waist of his partner, Chad. At 21, Chad was a vision of youthful energy. His lean, sweaty and hairless torso glistened under the lights, his brown hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Every few minutes, his blue eyes would find Jake's, a silent, loving check-in in the chaotic environment. They were with another couple, longtime friends of Jake's. Asha, a sexy Arabic man, was impossible to miss. At 47, he was a towering, muscular presence with a thick, dark beard and a body covered in a dense mat of hair that was visible even in the dim light. His partner Andrew was a man of similar age, moved with a quieter grace beside him. It was the first time Chad and Asha had met, and an immediate, electric current sparked between them. It wasn't anything overt, just a series of lingering glances across the dance floor. When they found themselves near each other, Asha's hands would "accidentally" brush against Chad's side, and Chad would lean into the touch, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. The flirting was a secret language spoken only between them, hidden in the chaos of the club. During a break, Chad slipped away to the restroom. The line was long, but a muscular, tattooed guy with dilated pupils and a wide grin leaned in close. “You’re fucking adorable. First time?" he'd asked, not waiting for an answer before pressing 2 small pills into Chad's palm. "For a better time." Chad didn't hesitate. He popped one in his mouth and swallowed it with a sip of water. He found Asha near the bar and, under the guise of pointing something out, pressed the pill into his hand. Asha's fingers closed around it, his dark eyes meeting Chad's with a flash of understanding and raw hunger. Asha popped it into his mouth without a second thought, swallowing it dry. The next hour was a blur. The music seemed to melt into a single, continuous wave of euphoria. Chad felt a profound connection to everyone, to the music, to the lights. He danced with Jake, but his eyes kept finding Asha, who was now moving with an uninhibited, primal energy, his body a force of nature on the dance floor. Finally, the lights came up, signaling the end of the night. The spell was broken. The four men, sweaty and exhausted, piled into a taxi back to the hotel. In the quiet of the car, the energy shifted. Chad rested his head on Jake's shoulder, the secret of the pill and the stolen glances with Asha buzzing under his skin. The hotel suite was cool and quiet after the club's sensory overload. It had two bedrooms, linked by a single, large master bathroom. Jake and Chad headed for one room, Asha and his partner for the other. Doors closed, and the suite fell silent. Jake was already half-asleep, but Chad was wide awake, the ecstasy still humming through his veins. He needed to piss. He slipped out of bed, padding silently across the carpet and pushing open the door to the shared bathroom. The light was on. Asha was there, standing in front of the toilet, his muscular frame tense. He was fully naked, his hairy body on display. He seemed to be struggling, his brow furrowed in concentration. A common, frustrating side effect of ecstasy. Chad didn't say a word. He walked by the sink, catching Asha's gaze in the mirror. A slow, confident smile spread across Chad's face. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slid them down his lean legs. His cock, soft and perfect, sprang free. He pulled back the foreskin, exposing the pink head, and aimed at the toilet right next to Asha. Asha watched, transfixed, his own forgotten frustration melting away. Chad let out a soft sigh of relief as a long, powerful stream of piss shot from him, hitting the water with a loud, satisfying hiss. He held Asha's gaze the entire time, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure on his face. He was pleased with himself, with the effect he was having on this powerful, older man. As his stream began to slow, Chad's free hand moved. He reached over and wrapped his fingers around Asha's thick, hairy cock. It was already hardening in his grasp, hot and heavy. Asha let out a low groan, his head falling back. Chad shook off the last drops, then turned to face Asha fully. There was no need for words. The secret flirting, the shared pill, the charged silence in the bathroom—it all led here. Chad sank to his knees, his blue eyes looking up at Asha's bearded face. He took the thick cock into his mouth, tasting the salt of his skin. Asha's hands tangled in Chad's brown hair, his hips thrusting forward gently. The blowjob was wet and hungry, but it was only the beginning. After a few minutes, Asha pulled Chad to his feet and spun him around, bending him over the cool marble of the bathroom counter. He spat into his hand and worked the saliva into Chad's tight, hairless hole. Chad pushed back, eager for it. Asha positioned himself behind him, the thick head of his cock pressing against Chad's entrance. He pushed in slowly, a deep guttural moan escaping his lips as he sank into the younger man's heat. Chad bit his lip to keep from crying out, his hands braced against the counter. The sex was quiet but fierce. A frantic, desperate coupling. Asha's hips pistoned, driving his bare cock deep into Chad's ass. The only sounds were their ragged breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the low, muffled groans they tried to suppress. Asha's hairy chest pressed against Chad's smooth back, his beard scratching at Chad's neck. It was raw, primal, and utterly intoxicating. Chad could feel his own orgasm building, his cock trapped between his body and the counter. Asha reached around, his rough hand wrapping around Chad's shaft and stroking him in time with his thrusts. “That’s it baby, let go. Cum for me”. That was all it took. Chad's body tensed, and he came hard, his cum spilling onto the marble floor and cabinet doors below. The clenching of Chad's ass pushed Asha over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and unloaded deep inside Chad, his body shuddering with the force of his release. For a moment, they stayed like that, panting, their bodies slick with sweat. Then, slowly, Asha pulled out. They cleaned themselves up in silence, the air thick with what they'd just done. Not a word was spoken. Chad slipped back into his bedroom. Jake was still sound asleep. Chad slid into bed, his body thrumming with a post-sex, post-ecstasy glow. He could feel Asha's cum leaking out of him, a warm, sticky reminder of the secret encounter in the bathroom. He closed his eyes, the image of Asha's powerful, hairy body burned into his mind, and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. Stay tuned for part 2.

(continued) As we reached the top of the stairs on the third floor, uncle leaned against the wall in the hall and I knelt down and started sucking his cock. Others began to gather around as he placed his hands on the back of my head and began to work my throat. Grabbing my arm pits he lifted me up and guided me around the corner to a dark room. In the room was a fuck bench and sling. I leaned back into the sling and he moved my feet into the straps. Soon the room was full of men of various ages and builds. As my uncle began to work my hole a man, probably in his early 30s, approach my left side. He was hung, lean with great definition, lightly furry and his cock was pressed against my lips. I bead of cum was dripping off the tip so I took my tongue and lapped up the warm salty protein. With that he began to work his cock down my throat as my uncle continued to drill my hole. The crowd watched as my young stud body was getting used at both ends. Not wanting to cum, I motioned for the action to stop and climbed out of the sling. Looking towards the door I noticed a man, probably in his later 20s, muscled, dark hair and smooth with a bio tat below his naval. He slowly moved into the crowd and soon had replaced me in the sling. The next thing I knew, my uncle was positioned at his hole and slowly began to slide into his hole. Not wanting to miss a minute, I leaned up against the wall as another man knelt down and began to suck my rock hard cock. As I worked his throat I watched my uncle continue to work the hole of the dude with the bio tat in the sling. I watched as the man in the sling reached and was tweaking my uncle’s large dark nipples on his perfect chest. As his ass was moving back and forth it began to thrust harder and harder into the dude in the sling. With a grunt my uncle dropped his load in the poz hole and with that, I erupted in the mouth of the guy sucking me off. My uncle turned towards me and motioned with his head that we head out of the room and back into the hall. I maneuvered through the men in the room and out the door. Once in the hall, without our towels, we walked up and down the halls peering into the rooms with open doors. As we walked a crowd began to follow.

Our dealer had been after me for a while to let him use my chemhole. I let the game go one because not only did he want to fuck me my partner wanted him too. You see my partner loved seeing black cock sliding into my ass. He also said that I was in my natural state when other men were fucking me. That I was being the whore that I was meant to be. I finally told our guy that he could have my ass for an eight ball. Doing that made me feel even more like the meth whore that I am. He had the perfect lean rock hard body to go with a cock that he knew how to use. My partner would always leave me with the guy/guys fucking me and listen from the next room. He always said I was a bigger whore when he wasn’t in the room and the tricks also were a little freer without him there. That black meth man cock felt so fucking good and especially when he came deep inside me. He went to shower and when he came back I was stroking my cock and he getting the cum out of my hole and eating it. He watched me and said fuck I can’t just watch you I need to eat that cum out of your chemhole. He said tell me am I eating just my cum or did you get some before I got here. I said you know my husband he had cock over here to fuck me and yes one of them dumped a huge load of poz cum in me. He went down on my hole and got deep inside. When he was finished he said I needed recharging. He was getting dressed and said your payment is on the table. When he left I looked over and there were two eight balls on the table. I felt like the best meth whore ever. This became a regular thing. I started going with him on his drop offs and he would have me suck his clients off and sometimes give up my hole after slamming with his client. Soon my partner found out that I was getting fucked without him getting to see it. He wanted us to use a new guy and I said no way. He started joining us or the clients came to us. The three of us were together for a while until my guy and pimp decided that the two of us would be better off without my partner. We both knew that there was so much for the two of us to have together that we were not able to then. I always was with him on drop offs and usually by the end of the night had my hole pretty used. He would fuck me when we got home and always eat my hole out so he got recharged from any toxic loafs I had taken. We have had a third in our relationship a few times but we always want more and we know how to get it. He is a salesman and I am just a nasty slut willing to improve what he has to offer. I have always been thankful of the night we made our trade.

I can suggest it for everyone this is me in black socks with my regular FFRIEND

There it was again. I was cruising through Craigslist, jacking-off to the pictures of bodies and cocks as I read the posts, and there it was: two big cock dads looking to share a twink. I grunted in pleasure. I loved this post. Every time I read it, it got me so hard I could barely contain myself. In the advertisement were two photographs of enormous cocks. Although the advertisement didn't contain a photograph of either guy, the size of their cocks was enough to get me excited. I had recently turned 22 and had minimal experience. I'd only ever bottomed for one guy who I had dated, but after he left for grad school, my needs were largely unmet and my sexual frustration increased as time when on, becoming almost too much to control. I'm 5'4', 150 pounds, half Puerto Rican, half white, good looking, with good definition and nice arms, and oh, I'm a total masculine pig bottom in the sheets. Finding dates and sex was never hard, but it seemed as if I was generally more masculine than the guys who wanted me, and I was not inclined to let such guys fuck me, so needless to say, in the year since my boyfriend left, I had only given three or four blow jobs. I never really trusted Craigslist but the attitude of the guys in the ad seemed so hot, I answered it. A few minutes later I received a reply asking for my age and phone number. I know I looked a little young but answered back any way asking to for some body pics of the guys. I received a text a few minutes later directing me to come to a certain address, adding that if I didn't like what they were offering, I could leave, but I would like it, (which I would), and if I stayed, (which I would), I would have to please the Daddies - however they wanted. Fuck, I thought, this is so fuckin' hot! So, just as instructed, I drove over to the address and approached the back door, which I found open. and texted that I had arrived. I immediately received a reply instructing me to enter the building and lock the door behind myself. Doing so, I entering into a dark room where two guys were sitting on a couch, drinking beer and, watching what I understood to be porn on a television. From what I could see, the first guy was at least 6 feet tall, was in his late 30s, was generally smooth, although he sported some large tribal tatts on his arms, and that he had a head of black hair and had a goatee. His chest and arms were frankly amazing, but I could see where he was getting a little soft on the sides. Even more enticing, however, was the cock that hung between his legs. It was one of the cocks that had been posted in the Craigslist advertisement. It was eight long (while soft) and looked as thick as my Gillette shaving cream can. Sitting next to him was the second Daddy. He was shorter than the first Daddy and, with a thick beard and hairy chest and abdomen, he was a bit of a wolf. He wasn't insanely hairy, but he came across as very manly - with a bit of a thick body. His cock, however, seemed as long as that of the other guy, however, as I stood in the doorway watching him pull on it, and as my eyes continued adjusted to the darkness, I saw it was thicker than a coke can. Both men looked like they were smoking joints, but the smell was stronger and different from any weed I'd ever smelled before. Wolf Daddy raised his hand in my direction and gestured me into the room. I walked in, somewhat tentative, as the smell of the thick white smoke they were enjoying was making me a little bit dizzy. "So, you like what you see?" Wolf Dad asked, smiling evilly at me. I nodded slowly. With that, Tattoo Dad stood up, lording his power me, and said one word: "Strip." I'd never given a strip tease in my life except for the occasional time I'd slowly take off my shirt when I was entering the community pool. I slid my jeans off, kicking my shoes off at the same time. The dizziness I experience, however, with the white smoke that permeated the room, got to me and I ended-up stumbling down to the floor on one knee. When I looked-up, Tatt Dad's enormous and soft cock head was in my face. I looked up at him and it, and he stared at me, his expression flat and emotionless. A large bead of precum had begun to form on the uncut tip of his cock and I thought to myself 'I might as well get started' so I opened my mouth as widely as I could, and took the head of his cock into my mouth and began to suck. FUCK! His cock tasted amazing and his pre-cum was thick and salty. As I pleasured his tool, Tatt Dad's head rolled back to look at the ceiling as I worked more of his soft cock into my mouth. As I did my best to satisfy him, I finished kicking off my shoes and jeans and was glad I was wearing some sexy underwear, some baby blue aussie bum briefs. Tatt Dad's cock was swelling-up, and in so doing, its thickness gradually increased. When I originally took it into my mouth, even soft I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do it justice. Now erect, yet another inch was added to the challenge, with the result that when I went down on him as far as I could, and had effectively reached rock-bottom, there were still another two inches of prime cock meat separating his balls from my chin. Tatt Dad, however, knew how to train me. When I went down on him, he positioned his arm around the back of my head, and he would hold me there for a few seconds before letting me come back up for air. Then he sat down and I did my damnedest to worship his cock, but couldn't seem to push my mouth any further down his cock, but once again, Tatt Dad knew how to get what he wanted, because when I went down, his grip on my head tightened and he pushed me further down his cock, forcing it past the stopping point. I could feel it curve down into my throat stretching to reach new levels of cock-sucking competence. Tatt Dad pumped his cock again and again past this point, my eyes widened as I was utterly amazed at what I was achieving in swallowing his cock, without the usual gagging. Each time we went through this cycle, he would pull me off his cock at the last second, until after about ten such cycles, he withdrew and let go of my head. I collapsed to the floor as the oxygen poured into my lungs. Wolf Dad chuckled and I saw his fully erect 8.5 inch, vein-covered cock, thicker than a can of beer. He called me over and when I knelt between his knees, he grabbed the collar of my shirt and unceremoniously ripped it off with his bare hands, tearing it down the back and throwing it aside. He grabbed my head as he slapped my face with his thick dick. I remember thinking his cock-slaps probably resembled the experience of being hit with a two by four - or so I imagined - his thick, hard wood slapping me about the face until finally he pushed his way into my mouth. I choked. He pulled me off and slapped me hard on the face before pushing me back on it. I choked again and he slapped me and threw my head away from him. 'Fuck', I thought, 'these guys are fucking rough'. Tatt Dad stood up and wagged his long dick in my face. I couldn't help but grunt in approval and take it in my mouth. About then I felt Wolf Dad climb behind me, grab my underwear, and before I could protest, he tore a hole in the ass end and slapped my ass hard. I yelped more in surprise than from pain as, simultaneously, Tatt Dad again forced his cock down my throat, again past the point of no return. Fortunately I was ready, and didn't gag, even finding a way to breath around his cock as he flexed his muscle deep inside my throat. I grunted with pleasure when I felt him flex his dick again and again, and then felt Wolf Dad pour what I assumed to be lube on my hole. I could tell the stuff was somewhat sticky, still it did a decent job in readying me to accommodate Wolf Dad's thick fingers that he was determined to push into my hole. DAMMMN! The stretching of my ass lips was a shock, but Wolf Dad was relentless. I tried to focus on deep-throating, but the finger fucking my hole was hard and rough. Then I felt something small and hard being forced into my hole, and instantly my hole was burning. I tried to pull off check-out the new assault, but Tatt Dad held me in place as Wolf Dad finger-fucked me with whenever was now deep in my hole. It burned and stung but slowly I could feel my heart start to race. My head swam and I could focus on the finger in my hole, stuffing me and stretching me, as the cock in my throat pushed its way further down my throat. I looked up and felt like things were moving in slow motion. I was now watching Tatt Dad's cock pull-out of my mouth and stab himself back-in, ball-deep. I could feel the pressure as my nose met the base of his body over and over. I moaned with him. My hips began to gyrate without control. Wolf Dad I know now had three fingers in my hole. I felt him add each one and the sensation was incredible. My hole felt for lack of a better word hungry. It was resistant to the stretching but the feeling was amazing. I felt the fingers push into me inch for inch and finally I felt him rubbing the head of his cock against my hole. His wet hands wrapped around my hips and he slammed himself in. The first sensation was a shock. My eyes went wide. I knew there was pain excruciating pain happening, but I looked up and watched Tatt Dad's head throw back again and again he thrust into my mouth. As I felt the enormous cock push into me from behind at the same time, I felt my knees and legs begin to shake, it seemed as if I was being ripped in two by the cock in my ass. The stretching sensation and pain were beyond anything I had ever dreamt. I know I was screaming, but I was pretty much deaf to the sound of my own cries. Eventually I felt two heavy large balls resting on my ass. Tatt Dad pulled out of my throat and my head and shoulders hit the floor as Wolf Dad pushed me down and I felt him flex his huge cock in my hole. He was growling as he flexed it and I felt my ass cheeks being manipulated. I swear I could hear my insides moving to accommodate him. Then Wolf Dad began to fuck me. 'OHHH! GODDD!' I screamed, as I felt the cock begin to pull out of me. Because my ass had never before experienced his girth, not surprisingly I was hugging his cock, and with each withdraw of his cock, it felt as though he was gonna pull out my insides as he pulled back. 'OOOOH MY FUCKING GOD!' I again yelled as he pumped back in, balls-deep. I felt his large hand grab my hair and pull up forcing my back to arch as I looked up to the cieling seeing a giant mirror. I watched as beer can thick dick pulled out and slammed back into me from my reflection above. My mouth was wide open. I heard my self moaning and yelling, but it was surreal watching myself getting fucked so damn good. Then the lights came on. Tatt Dad was holding a video camera recording and smiling. I looked directly into the camera yelling and moaning as my life was being fucked out of me. His mouth moved but all I could hear was the sound of my own grunting and the pounding of balls slapping my ass. "You like that cum slut," I finally heard Tatt Dad say. I looked straight at the camera, shook my head 'no', and bit my lip, then forced myself back on the cock behind me let out a loud moan 'FUCK YES!' Both Tatt Dad and Wolf Dad exploded with a "Yeaaaah!!" as I pushed myself back on the cock that was assaulting me. I grunted and fucked myself again and again as Wolf Dad began slapping my ass cheeks with firm slaps with every time I made it, balls deep. Naturally I continued fucking myself hard on Wolf Dad's incredible cock. Finally Wolf Dad pulled out completely, and rolled me over onto my back, as Tatt Dad handed him the camera. I noticed Tatt Dad's wagging dick was covered in streaks of pink and red. "I FUCKING LOVE A GOOD FRESHLY LOOSE BOY HOLE!" Tatt Dad grunted as he kicked open my legs and pushed himself into me, looking into my eyes as his dick stretched my hole again, this time deeper, rather than wider. I felt him hit a stopping point in me and I shook my head, moaning in pain, but no, but he just slammed himself in and I felt a hard 'pop' as he pounded into my second hole. My head flew back and hit the floor as my back arched upward and he began fucking my second hole with the same roughness that broke down the integrity of my first hole. I grabbed the back of my knees and pulled my legs up and open, figuring doing so would open-up my ass even wider to accommodate the two fuck monsters. "YOU LIKE THAT DADDY DICK, YOU FUCKING SLUT!" Tatt Dad growled as he fucked me, to which I grunted my reply "OH, FUCK DADDY! FUCK DADDY, FUCK, OH DADDY, FUCK!" "YEAH, TAKE THAT DADDY DICK, BOY, TAKE IT! FUUUCK!" I was lost, my head swimming in the experience. Finally Tatt Dad pulled out, and I lay there shaking, as Wolf Dad climbed back on top of me, slid in, and resumed where he had left off. "YOU READY FOR YOUR FIRST LOAD, YOU SLUT?" Wolf Dad exclaimed. "FUCK...YE..YESS!" I moaned in assent between his thrusts. Finally Wolf Dad pulled out and I felt streams of cum shoot over my hole and balls. He wiped his cock in his own cum load, and shoved himself back in. The camera came in close to my face and I heard Tatt Dad ask "You like that daddy cum inside you, boy?" "Yes fuck yes sir" I whimpered softly. Tatt Dad then lifted me up, and sitting on the the couch, encouraging me to sit on his cock. My hole was so hungry. I climbed onto the couch, positioning myself over his cock, and leaning forward and holding onto his shoulders, I slid down on his pole in one smooth movement, gyrating my hips to maximize our pleasure. My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I concentrated on milking a load out of him. After a minute or so, Tatt Dad grabbed me by the neck and pulled me against his chest, just as I felt Wolf Dad's hard cock pushing up against my hole. I screamed in protest, but they would have none of that, and were apparently prepared for my reaction, as Tatt Dad shoved a cloth on my face as I gasped in pain, and breathing in the fumes of the substance with which the cloth was soaked, my head swam and my hole relaxed, but not enough for what was coming. Wolf Dad forced his cock into me and I felt myself tearing inside. I tried to scream, but only inhaled more of the strange, dense aroma from the cloth, which made me dizzy and distracted me from the pain. At some point I realized Tatt Dad was video taping this encounter, including the culmination of the double-dicking when I felt their cum blowing inside me. Then I passed out. When I woke up I was laying on a bed which was shaking because there was someone on me. I didn't recognize the guy between my legs. He was older and bald, but not in horrible shape, but smelled like musk. I felt him push deep inside and could feel his cum shooting into me. I looked around as he climbed off me and saw a room full of guys fucking and sucking. I was in the middle of an orgy. I saw Wolf Dad walk up to me and he put his mouth between my legs as he tongued my hole, felching the fresh load that had just been deposited inside me. I couldn't help but moan in pleasure. Then Wolf Dad climbed over me, shoved his dick in, and spat the load all over my face. Instinctively I licked and tried to swallow his spit. Wolf Dad pumped me a few times and yelled as he blew yet another load. He was apparently still good for another one. I looked to my side, and saw Tatt Dad who was seated in a chair just a few feet from the bed, and who was fucking a boy who looked vaguely familiar. As I watched, a large muscular black man climbed on top of me and shoved his dick in, balls-deep. I grunted as he fucked me. "YEAH BOY, YEAH" he muttered over and over as he shoved his cock balls deep. I was utterly stunned by the scenes of debauchery. Then I realized where I had seen the boy who was the object of Tatt Dad's attention: he was an acclaimed lacrosse player who had been on the news after having gone missing a few months earlier. I watched as Tatt Dad pulled out, jerked himself a couple of times, blowing his load all over the guy's asshole, only to shove four fingers into the guy's ass (with ease!), massaging the cum into him. The boy moaned and groaned, his muscular body buckling under the power of Tatt Dad hand's pushing into him. I returned my attention the massive black man who was fucking me. He finally shot his load deep inside my hole, making my toes curl as a long grunt escaped my lips. "You always have the fucking best men!" the black man announced as Wolf dad began to felch the load out of my hole again. He walked over to the lacrosse player and shoved his still dick, which was still fully erect, inside the guy's ass. "Fuck," he said, "I forgot how good this one is. Can you add one more to my tab?" "Go for it" Tatt Dad replied, as Wolf Dad pushed back into me, his girth stretching my ass anew. I groaned in pleasure. "Fuck yeah, boy!" he murmured softly and gruffly in my ear. As he kissed me he snowballed into my mouth some of the cum he'd taken from my hole. Of course I eagerly drank it. "You think you still want some more boy?" he asked. I nodded, let my head fall back, and as he sucked on my body and continued to fuck me, I thought 'Oh man, fuck me....'

I had a cum dump who thought it was a good idea to eat popcorn for breakfast.

Long chapter here, but stick with it. Take it in small doses if you have to. --------------- Chapter 27: Monsters Inside Us Dressing room at InfraRed. 31-Oct-20XX. 22:08 MST. REDACTED location. The dressing room behind the InfraRed stage still pulsed faintly with the club’s rhythm, bass traveling through concrete and shelving in dull, physical waves. Colored light seeped under the door in smeared streaks of red and ultraviolet, painting the stacked liquor crates and tangled cables in uneasy shadow. The air carried heat, sweat, and disinfectant—but beneath it now lingered something else, metallic and sharp, like ozone after a lightning strike. That and the unmistakable smell of sex. Spencer leaned back against a tower of supply boxes, breathing hard. He had never been small. Even before tonight, Spencer’s body had been the kind built to command attention under strobes and mirrors—thick, stage-trained muscle layered across chest and shoulders, arms heavy with size, thighs carved dense from years of performance and conditioning. He’d always moved with the heavy grace of someone aware of how much space he occupied. Now that body was changing. Stag watched the shift with fixed, unwilling focus. It began as swelling—subtle only in comparison to how large Spencer already was. The muscle across his chest thickened further, pecs lifting and rounding until the skin stretched tight and gleaming. His shoulders broadened visibly, deltoids pushing outward into exaggerated domes of mass that seemed almost too large for his frame. Veins surfaced along his arms and across his torso, darkening beneath skin that was losing its warmth and sliding toward an unnatural grey. Spencer’s abdomen flexed as he drew in a breath. Even the deeply-cut definition there deepened, each segment of muscle pressing forward more prominently, as though something inside him demanded expansion. His biceps swelled when he shifted his hands against the concrete, bulging larger than they had any right to be—thick cords stacked atop one another, veins crawling over them in blackened tracery. The transformation didn’t make him misshapen. It made him excessive. Grotesquely, overwhelmingly muscular—like a bodybuilder pushed past biological limits and then hardened further into something denser and more powerful than flesh alone should allow. What had been a gift from God before was now a twisted, corrupted thing straight from hell. His fingers curled slightly where they rested. The nails had changed. Longer. Sharper. Edges no longer smooth but faintly hooked, catching the leaking club light in thin, dangerous glints. When Spencer inhaled again, his chest expanded wider than before, ribcage stretching to accommodate the new mass. His throat moved as he swallowed, and when his lips parted, Stag saw the shift in his teeth—canines lengthened, points clean and predatory against the darkening tone of his mouth. Spencer’s eyes opened slowly. They were darker already, the color draining toward black, depthless and reflective. Awareness settled into them with frightening speed—not confusion, not fear, but a clear recalibration, as though he were assessing a new body and finding it entirely acceptable. They landed on Stag. And stayed. The connection ignited a heartbeat later. Stag felt it move through him—the thread snapping taut between them, the newly shared awareness brushing along his mind. Spencer’s perception bled faintly into his own: sound sharpened, heat signatures of moving bodies beyond the door, the living press of the club outside the walls. Spencer pushed himself upright. The motion was smoother than it had any right to be for someone whose mass had just increased so drastically. His center of gravity had shifted, but he compensated instantly, spine straightening, shoulders rolling back to test the new range. The muscles along his back bunched and slid under greying skin, thicker than before, layered like armor plates. He looked bigger standing than he had lying down. Not merely tall or broad—but heavy with power, density packed into every line of him until he seemed carved rather than grown. Stag felt the instinctive claim rise in him before he could stop it. Mine. He crushed the thought down immediately, jaw tightening. Spencer took a step toward the door, gaze already drifting outward toward the living movement beyond the room—the dance floor, the bodies, the pulse of potential hosts. Stag moved in front of him without thinking. The gesture wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t overtly controlling. But it blocked the exit all the same, his body placed between Spencer and the club beyond. Spencer paused. His head tilted slightly as he studied Stag with those deepening black eyes. There was no fear in him, no lingering confusion from the infection. Only recognition—and the faintest edge of detachment. The new network hummed between them. Spencer’s awareness touched Stag’s thoughts lightly, almost curiously, and Stag felt the subtle pushback beneath it: not rejection, not anger—simply independence reasserting itself inside the bond. Stag felt something colder than victory settle into his chest. Spencer’s gaze moved past him again, toward the door. Toward the world. And Stag, watching the man he had just remade grow larger, stronger, and already slipping beyond his reach, understood with sudden clarity that infection had not made Spencer his. It had only made Spencer more himself. The storage room door burst open hard enough to rattle the metal shelving. The music from the main floor flooded in for a second—sweat, lights, bodies—before the door slammed back against the stopper. The club owner stood in the doorway, face flushed and furious, shirt half-unbuttoned and tie hanging loose around his neck. “What the hell is going on back here?” he snapped, eyes jumping from the overturned crate to Spencer—then lingering there. “Spencer, get your ass back on stage. You’re up in three minutes. I don’t pay you to hide in the back with—” His gaze shifted to Stag, dismissive and irritated. “—whatever the hell this is.” Spencer didn’t move. He stood in the flickering light, newly broadened shoulders rising and falling slowly, breathing steady now. The stage-trained grace was still there—but it had been sharpened, weaponized. His muscles looked even more obscene under the harsh fluorescent light, chest thick and striated, arms swollen beyond their already impressive size. The grey tone of his skin was more noticeable now, veins crawling dark beneath it like fault lines. The owner either didn’t notice—or refused to. “Spencer,” he barked again, stepping into the room. “You don’t get to pull this diva crap tonight. Halloween’s our biggest revenue draw. If you don’t get back out there, I’ll have security drag you—” Stag moved before the sentence finished. One second he was standing still. The next, his hand had closed around the owner’s collar, fingers digging in hard enough to wrinkle fabric and flesh beneath it. He lifted him clean off the floor and slammed him back against the metal door with a crack that echoed through the room. The owner’s feet left the ground. His mouth snapped shut mid-threat. “Back off,” Stag growled, voice low and resonant, something monstrous rumbling beneath it. The owner struggled, kicking uselessly, eyes wide now—not with anger but with dawning realization that this wasn’t a drunken customer dispute. “You—put me down—security—” Stag tightened his grip. The door behind the owner bowed under the force, hinges whining. For a split second, Stag considered crushing his windpipe entirely—silencing him permanently. A flicker of approval moved faintly through the network. Spencer watched. Not afraid. Not shocked. Interested. That look—the way Spencer’s darkened eyes tracked Stag’s strength, the way his head tilted slightly as though assessing—sent a surge of pride through Stag that he immediately masked as rage. “This doesn’t concern you,” Stag said, voice dangerously calm. “You don’t touch him.” The owner opened his mouth to respond, but Stag released him only to throw him. The man hit the far wall hard enough to knock over a stack of empty crates, collapsing in a heap amid splintered wood and scattered plastic. Silence followed. The bass from the dance floor thudded on, oblivious. The owner groaned once, tried to push himself up—and failed. His head lolled to the side, consciousness slipping away. Spencer stepped forward slightly. His expression had shifted. Not softened—refined. There was something in his eyes now that Stag recognized immediately: admiration layered with something colder. Approval of dominance. Evaluation of power. And beneath that—distance. Stag felt it like a knife pressing just under his ribs. He told himself the reaction surging through him was satisfaction. That he’d protected Spencer. That he’d handled it. But the truth pressed closer: He hadn’t acted because Spencer needed protecting. He’d acted because he couldn’t tolerate someone else exerting authority over him. The connection between them pulsed again. Spencer’s awareness brushed his—cool, expansive, outward-facing. The club owner lay unconscious at their feet. And for the first time, Stag felt the faint, creeping sense that he had not just created something powerful— He had unleashed it. The approval Stag had expected never fully came. Instead, something colder slid through the network. A pressure. Subtle at first—like a hand settling at the back of his skull. Then firmer. Heavier. Commanding attention. Why are you alone? The Alpha’s presence did not need volume. It did not need to shout. The voice threaded through Stag’s mind with smooth, suffocating clarity. Stag stiffened, jaw tightening. Spencer felt it too—he straightened slightly, eyes unfocusing as the connection widened. You were sent to spread the gift. The temperature in the room seemed to drop to Stag. And yet you hide. Infecting one. Causing spectacle. Stag’s lips peeled back slightly, not quite a snarl. “Handled it,” he muttered under his breath, though the words were half-thought, half-spoken. “He was interfering.” The Alpha’s attention sharpened. You were not tasked with protecting. You were tasked with multiplying. Spencer shifted his weight, head tilting as if listening to someone just out of sight. The glow in his darkened eyes deepened. For the first time, Stag realized with a flare of irritation that Spencer could hear this—could feel the reprimand flowing through him. The Alpha pressed harder. Why only one? A pulse of suspicion edged the mental voice. Why this one? Explain yourself… Bryce. Stag’s jaw clenched. “Does it matter?” he shot back, reflexive and sharp. The response was immediate. Pain lanced through his skull. Not physical—worse. It felt like something squeezing inward from all sides, compressing thought itself. His vision blurred at the edges as the Alpha tightened its grip, punishing the back talk with cold precision. Stag staggered a half-step, a broken sound tearing out of him before he could stop it. Spencer’s head snapped toward him. The Alpha’s tone dropped lower. You forget yourself. The pressure increased just enough to force Stag to one knee. Do not confuse attachment with loyalty. The word ‘attachment’ hit harder than the pain. Spencer watched him now—not with sympathy. With assessment. And that burned worse than the psychic vise. The Alpha shifted focus. You, newly awakened, it said to Spencer. Spencer inhaled slowly. His chest expanded, grotesquely full and powerful. You will go forth. Spread the love. A directive. Clean. Absolute. Spencer nodded once. Stag’s head jerked up. “No.” It slipped out before he could stop it. The Alpha’s presence flared. You do not command him. I do. Remember that. Stag forced himself upright despite the lingering ache in his skull. “He’s not ready,” he said through gritted teeth. Spencer’s gaze flicked to him—confusion there, faint and fleeting. The Alpha’s reply was almost amused. He is more than ready. Another presence joined the mental space—heavy, blunt, observant. Lockjaw. You will not operate alone, the Alpha continued. Lockjaw will supervise. Since you clearly can’t be trusted to follow my orders. The implication hung in the air: You are being watched. Stag swallowed the urge to say something reckless. Spencer took a step toward the door. His movements were smooth. Confident. Eager. He didn’t look back at Stag. Lockjaw appeared in the doorway moments later, broad frame filling the space, black eyes unreadable, horns threatening to breach the black skin. He glanced from the unconscious club owner to Stag, then to Spencer. “New one?” Lockjaw asked aloud, voice flat. God, he’s huge. Fuck. Stag forced his expression into something indifferent. “Spencer,” he said curtly. “Just some random slut I … needed to teach a lesson to. Gave him what he deserved. He had it coming.” Spencer turned and gave Stag a silent glare, then turned away with distaste. The dance floor lights flickered against his sharpened features as he stepped into the corridor, already scanning for his next target. Lockjaw’s gaze lingered on Stag for a moment longer. “You look tense,” he observed. Stag scoffed. “Mind your business, asshole. Shouldn’t you be worried about your ever-missing boyfriend? He run off again or something?” Lockjaw quietly looked over at him before rolling his eyes and looking back at Spencer. But through the network, he could feel Spencer’s thoughts beginning to branch outward—curious, calculating, predatory. And for the first time since infecting him, Stag felt something dangerously close to regret. Not for what he had done. But for what he might have lost. The nightclub swallowed Spencer almost immediately. InfraRed pulsed with Halloween chaos—strobes cutting through fog, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, glitter and sweat and cheap latex costumes blurring under red light. The music was loud enough to rattle bone. To anyone watching, Spencer looked like he had simply rejoined the crowd. Only Stag could feel the difference. Through the network, Spencer’s thoughts flickered—quick, curious, newly sharpened. The infection had stripped hesitation from him. What remained was appetite. Who first? Ready to use a willing hole. The thought drifted across the link like a lazy ripple. Stag tried not to react. Lockjaw stood beside him near the hallway entrance, arms folded, silent and observant. Not interfering. Just watching. Spencer moved with predatory ease now, his grotesquely expanded frame parting dancers without effort. His skin had deepened to that slate-gray sheen, veins faintly pronounced under the lights. His teeth flashed too white when he smiled. Stag felt the moment Spencer’s attention locked onto someone. Oh. That one. The thought carried a flicker of amusement. Across the room, leaning against the bar, was a punk rocker with a bright red mohawk and nose ring, tunnels in his ears, tattoos and a leather jacket and chaps completed the look. The guy looked familiar in that vague way club regulars often did. Spencer’s thoughts sharpened again. I heard about him. Used to do adult films. Says he can take anything. Even hit me up a few times at the gym wanting to worship me. Now he can have his chance. The implication curled darkly beneath the surface. Stag could literally see the images flooding in from Spencer. The red-haired man with the mohawk bent over, moaning in ecstasy and agony. Spencer smacking his ass and pounding his new, massive dick as hard as he could until he roared aloud with each shot of blackened, tainted cum flooding his ass. The punk shivering and begging for yet another load as the virus quickly began to take hold in his battered and abused ass. Stag’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to feel this. He didn’t want to see this. He didn’t want to care. But through the network, he could feel Spencer’s interest spike—curiosity sliding toward intent. Lockjaw noticed. “Your… boy seems enthusiastic, and just as twisted as someone else I know,” he remarked casually. Stag’s head snapped toward him. “He’s not my—” Lockjaw cut him off with a look. “Right.” The word wasn’t cruel. Just factual. Spencer approached the mohawked man, smile widening slightly. The punk laughed at something Spencer said, leaning closer, clearly interested. Stag felt the pull of it through the link. The ease. The connection. It made something twist in his chest. Lockjaw shifted his weight, watching Spencer’s body language with quiet assessment. Then, almost lazily, he said, “Funny how fast people move on. You must bring that out in people, Stag.” Stag didn’t respond. But the words hit. Because he remembered. He remembered standing in the doorway of their apartment, the gym bag still slung over his shoulder. The smell of cologne in the air that wasn’t his. The cardboard box half-packed on the bed. Spencer not looking at him. “I’m sor… actually, no. I’m not sorry. I just… I want something different, Bryce. And you clearly can’t give that to me.” Not angry. But cold, almost cruel. Just done. Stag had laughed then, too sharp and too loud, like it was a joke. He’d told Spencer he was being dramatic. That he’d been trying—hadn’t he? He’d quit smoking. Started lifting heavier. Tried to be less of an asshole. Tried to soften the sharp edges. Be more attentive. Hell, he’d even let Spencer top him whenever he asked. And it hadn’t mattered. He’d watched Spencer zip the suitcase. Load up the last few things into the box. Watched him leave. Now, across the dance floor, Spencer leaned in toward someone new, smiling like he’d never left anything behind. Lockjaw glanced sideways at Stag. “Seems happier on the longer leash,” he added mildly. That one landed harder than intended. Stag’s hands curled into fists. Through the network, Spencer’s excitement flared brighter. The infection hummed with it. He’s a horny little shit, Spencer thought. He’ll come with me. Almost seems to want it. Stag swallowed. He hadn’t expected the Alpha’s punishment to feel like this. Because it wasn’t pain. It was watching. Watching the man he’d infected—claimed—move through the world without him. And realizing that even now, Spencer didn’t need him to feel powerful. He didn’t actually need him at all. The Alpha did not need to step onto the dance floor to make himself known. His presence pressed into Stag’s mind like a hand on the back of his neck—firm, deliberate, undeniable. The music in the club dimmed beneath it, not physically but perceptually, as though the network itself shifted its attention. You disobeyed. The words were not shouted. They were simply placed inside Stag’s thoughts with surgical precision. Stag kept his posture rigid, refusing to bow his head even as the pressure increased. Across the room, Spencer’s laughter rang out, bright and easy as he leaned closer to the red-mohawked punk. The connection between them flared again—curiosity tipping toward intent. The Alpha let Stag feel it. Every flicker of Spencer’s rising hunger. Every pulse of anticipation. Every thread of desire building. Your punishment, the Alpha continued smoothly, is observation. Don’t think I can’t read your mind and know every little thought that went through your sick head, Bryce. I know exactly why you were so intent on infecting this one. A sharp spike of pain lanced through Stag’s skull when he tried to block the connection. Not enough to incapacitate—just enough to remind him who held control. You will watch him choose someone else. You will watch him take them. You will watch him enjoy it. Someone other than you. Lockjaw shifted beside him, sensing the tension spike but saying nothing. On the dance floor, Spencer placed a hand on the punk’s waist. The other man grinned, clearly interested, clearly flattered by the attention of someone built like Spencer had become—massive, sculpted, intoxicatingly confident. Stag’s throat tightened. The Alpha’s tone shifted, almost amused. Spread my strain. Increase our numbers. Do what I sent you out for. The command rippled outward through the network. Stag felt Lockjaw receive it. Felt the rest of their kind adjust, scatter, seek. Lockjaw gave Stag a sidelong look. “Well… looks like we got our orders.” Stag nodded once, jaw clenched. He would not give the Alpha the satisfaction of another outburst. Lockjaw peeled away toward the front entrance, eyes settling almost immediately on the club’s bouncer—a thick-necked man who had been watching the dance floor with detached boredom. Lockjaw’s stride was smooth, confident, and purposeful. Stag turned in the opposite direction. He found his target near the edge of the floor: a slim blond dressed as Glinda the Good Witch, glitter catching in his hair under the strobes, pink dress short enough to blur the line between costume and invitation. The same twink Stag had dismissed earlier with a sneer. The twink caught his eye and smiled shyly. Stag told himself this would be simple. Mechanical. Necessary. He didn’t look back at Spencer. But through the network, he could still feel him. Still hear the faint hum of anticipation building as Spencer guided the red-mohawked man toward a darker hallway. The Alpha’s presence lingered, heavy and observant. Watch him, it reminded him softly. And learn your place, Bryce. And Stag hated that he obeyed. The hallway near the storage rooms was quieter, the bass from the main floor reduced to a dull vibration in the walls. The Glinda-costumed twink followed Stag eagerly, heels clicking against concrete, glitter catching in the dim light. Up close, the kid smelled like cheap cologne and vodka. “You gonna just glare at me,” the twink teased lightly, brushing a hand against Stag’s chest, “or are we actually doing something?” Stag forced himself to focus. This was easy. It should be easy. He’d done this before—long before the infection. Cold detachment came naturally to him. He knew how to compartmentalize. How to separate physical action from emotional involvement. He reached out, gripping the twink’s waist, guiding him roughly back toward the wall. Through the network, Spencer’s presence pulsed brighter. The punk moaned as Spencer murmured in his ear, pulling his pants down and taking his ass in one quick movement. Spencer’s mental voice flickered across the network—curious, hungry, excited. Considering. Selecting his next victim. Stag’s jaw tightened. He leaned in closer to the twink, but his movements were mechanical now, delayed. There was no predatory thrill behind them. No hunger. The twink noticed. “You… um okay?” he asked, frowning faintly. “You look… distracted. Are we actually gonna do something?” “I’m fine,” Stag muttered. But he wasn’t. Because through the network he could feel Spencer stepping deeper into a side corridor. Feel as Spencer began to shoot his load. Feel Spencer’s excitement spike as the Alpha’s approval brushed against him. It was too much. The twink shifted under Stag’s grip, irritation replacing playfulness. “You’re kind of boring, you know that?” he said flatly. “The asshole act might be intense, but you’re not actually doing anything.” Stag blinked. “What?” “I said,” the twink snapped, shoving lightly at his chest, “you’re boring. If you’re not gonna make a move, I’ll go find someone who will.” The words hit harder than they should have. Boring. For a split second, the hallway vanished. He was back in his apartment. Back in the living room. Watching Spencer shove clothes into a duffel bag while refusing to meet his eyes. I need someone who actually makes me feel something, Bryce. You’re boring. And you’re not enough. This isn’t what I need, and you never will be. The twink rolled his eyes and pushed past him. “Jesus. I’ll find someone better.” The words overlapped perfectly with the memory. Stag didn’t move. Through the network, Spencer’s pleasure flared brighter—focused elsewhere now, locked on the red-mohawked man, already intent on pumping another tainted load into the man. The Alpha hummed approval at the progress. A hot spike of panic shot through Stag’s chest. What if Spencer didn’t need him anymore? What if this—this infection, this grotesque new power—was the only reason Spencer had ever looked back at him at all? What if even now he was just a stepping stone? Stag’s breathing grew uneven. His thoughts began to spiral. He tried to blink back the flood of tears threatening to come out of his eyes. Maybe I really am boring. Maybe I was never enough. Maybe this is the only way anyone would ever want me. The Alpha’s presence lingered at the edge of his mind, observant but silent. This was all for him. To give him what he wanted. Yeah, it gave me the infection, too, but – I needed a way to tie him to me. Permanently. And for what? He doesn’t even care now that he has what he wants. What do I do now? Lockjaw appeared at the end of the hall a moment later, posture loose but eyes sharp. There was a faint smear of dark residue on his jawline—evidence that he had already completed his assigned task. He slowed when he saw Stag standing there alone. “You're… done already?” Lockjaw asked, tone suspicious. Stag straightened too fast, blinking fast and planting a cocky grin on his face, letting out a carefree laugh as he spoke. “Yeah. Obviously.” Lockjaw didn’t look convinced. His gaze flicked past Stag toward the dance floor—toward Spencer—then back. “You’re staring at him still,” Lockjaw said quietly. Stag forced a scoff. “Fuck off… And mind your own business.” But Lockjaw didn’t move away. Instead, he gently stepped closer and lowered his voice. “You both dated, didn’t you? How long have you two been broken up?” The question landed heavier than the Alpha’s psychic pressure ever had. And for the first time since this all began— Stag didn’t have a ready answer.

I have experienced the same thing reading stories just like this one years ago. So are you going to stop taking your prep or have you already stopped taking it? Years ago when I first started having sex with guys instead of women I gave prep a lot of thought. But reading stories on this site convinced me that I really didn't want to take prep which I have not taken it. I enjoy getting fucked bare and wondering if this guy is Pozzing me.

I got home still aroused and horny. I got out the dildo and lube and fucked my self by riding it on the neck cushion and shot all over. I licked it clean and then lie in bed. I went on BBRT and looked up profiles. That got me horny again. I searched 55 yrs +, Top only and take load in ass. I don't know why I kept going to the HIV section and debating on what to click. I thought I should just click negative and maybe undetectable. When I did that sort I got 80+. I looked thru the profiles and some were hot but I kept looking at the status part of each profile. My cock was getting hard again and I started to stroke it. Then I was curious and went back to the section and unclicked negative and undetectable. Then I clicked HIV. Then about 28 popped up with 18 online. My cock got really hard as I read the profiles and looked at their pics. So many hot older men. All seemed to have good size cocks. None had a small cock. I wondered about that. Then my phone pinged. R- What you up to boy? D- AT home on BBRT R- Really? You like that app now? D- Yes R- What you looking up? D- Just checking things out R- What did you search for? Tell me all? I told him the two searches that I did. R- Good. What did you find? I told him that there were more sexy guys who had HIV and they all had good sized cocks. D- Is that the norm? R- lol. You mean do we all have large cocks? D- YEs;) and sexy R- Yes of course...lol R- It actually makes sense. We were more likely to fuck more and anyone for that matter. Dip our cocks in all pussys no matter how nasty. And had cocks that attracted bottoms. My ass twitched when I read that. D- That makes sense. I guess more so than those with HIV and on meds and undetectable? R- That's a nuance look. I know lots of POZ undetectable tops who are great fucks and bottoms chase and beg them all the time. Maybe we are more the bad boy types...lol R- What else you do tonight? I explained everything that happened at the Professor's place. Going over to swim and what ended up happening. R- Sounds like you had fun. I am glad. D- Yes I did. It ended odd. R- Well you both still had oral and fun at the end. R- Gotta go TTYL. I looked at the clock it was almost midnight. I needed to get to bed.

As he calmed down he still grinded in my cunt. Hitting my prostate it felt good but there was still discomfort with his ring rubbing my insides. He finally pulled out. His huge cock was covered in cum, ass juice and there was blood on his tip and the piercing. I turned around and grabbed his cock and cleaned him off. He was surprised and held back a bit as I leaned over and engulfed his cock in my mouth. He started to moan. "Ohhh Dan. You are such a good slut aren't you. I knew you were an exploring young man but I didn't know you were so deprived already" he said mow pushing his cock in my mouth. After licking and sucking him clean he slipped from my mouth. "What is that thing" I said looking at the piercing. "It's a Prince Alber piercing. How did it feel", he said "It felt intense in me. It hurt.." I said "Yeah it does that. It take it, it felt good too. I could feel your cunt squeeze it" he said "Yes after a while it was driving me crazy. It hit so many spots and I could feel it rip into my ass" I said looking down in shame "Yes your pussy liked it. I felt you cum. Your cunt was so hungry" he said stroking his cock He then sat down next to me on the lounge chair and kissed me. I kissed back. "I was surprised you let me cum in you. I am sorry I should have told you earlier I was POZ. I just got caught up in the moment" he said sincerely "Its ok. I got caught up too. I think we just had an attraction. " I replied "Yes we did. You saw me looking at you and your tight body in those sexy short shorts." he said "And you saw me stare at your huge mean in those tight thin cycling shorts. You look great in them" I replied grabbing his huge cock in my hand teasing it. "Hmmm yeah I could see your mouth water and the day I saw what I knew was cum leaking from your pussy, I knew I would have you one day. I just didn't think it was that soon" he said with his finger probing my ass. I pushed back on his finger and my legs opened up automatically. I let out a soft moan. "Hmmm yeah look at your pussy it needs cock doesn't it." he said fingering me with now two fingers and I moaned and spread my legs even more. He pulled out his fingers and showed me and I leaned over and cleaned his fingers. "Yeah your hungry aren't you. I was surprised you let me cum in you. I am POZ" he said "I know but I was just so on the edge I needed you to cum in me" I said with a desperate look. "Even POZ cum. You could get sick" he said "I know...." I said stopping "What you can tell me" he said his fingers were still in me now working my prostate my cock was hard and leaking again "I am on PEP" I said looking down ashamed "Ok that's fine. Why did you not want to tell me that" the Professor asked "I was afraid you weren't going to like me anymore" I said "Why would you think that" he asked "I don't know. Cause I am afraid of getting HIV and you might get turned off by that" I said "Of course I wouldn't. I find you very handsome and sexy. I would fuck you any day of the week" he said smiling "I understand that you don't want to get HIV that is your choice" he said "You look a little conflicted though" he said "What do you mean" I asked "You look like you are still thinking about it. True?" he said "Yes I am still a bit confused" I said "Yes I believe you are. When I was fucking you and deep in you and I told you I had HIV and I felt your pussy squeeze my cock. You milked me" he said I paused and looked down. "its ok to be confused. I know it can be a lot to take in. It feels so good and your body wants cum, even POZ cum" he said "Look at your cock" he said I looked down and it was hard and leaking. He even had removed his fingers. Just the thought was making me hard. "Its okay" he said "Can we just enjoy tonight" I asked "Of course" he said. He grabbed my hand and took me into his house. We sat on this couch and gay porn was already on. He pulled me over and started to kiss me. After our kiss, I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth trying not to crack any of my teeth on his piercing. He became rock hard in my mouth quickly. He pulled me up and pushed me back on the couch. He lifted my legs and dived into my ass eating it. "OHHHH fuck" I moaned loudly He ate me out for what seemed hours but was probably only 5 minutes. He also fingered my with two fingers and then with his long tongue was driving me crazy. I pushed back my ass into his mouth and he just ate me. It felt so good. He pulled up and put his cock at me entrance and my legs on his shoulders. I noticed a small bio hazard tattoo on his waist. "You want my cock boy? You want my cum in you? He asked staring at me. "Yes please fuck me please. Cum in me" I begged "You sure, my POZ cum is potent. I have a high viral load. Higher than most. The PEP might not work" he said I paused and he could see the fear in my face and eyes. He pulled his cock away from my ass. "Maybe we shouldn't continue" he said putting my legs off his shoulder I couldn't say anything. I was stunned and confused. "You think I could catch HIV even with being on PEP?" I asked "I am not a doctor. I think it's like one in a thousand chance. But you never know." he said "You have to take the responsibility if you still want to play." he said "While I want to fuck you again and your pussy is so hot, I do not want to force you to do anything or do something in the heat of the moment" he said sitting on the couch but not touching me. I sat there with my legs still sprawled open. I could feel cum leaking from my ass. I wiped it and licked it. He smiled back at me. "I do but I am a little scared. I think you put things into perspective." I said "But I did enjoy so much when you fucked me" I said "And" he said "And what" I replied "You are missing something" he said "And when you came in me" I said "Yes when I came in you I could feel your cunt milking me. Your pussy wanted all the cum out of my cock" he said I could see his cock getting hard and so was mine. "But I think we should pause for now" he said standing up "I don't want you regretting something you did here with me" he said I felt rejected. "Don't be sad. I don't think this the last time we will have fun together. I think you just need time to think things through" he said "Are you sure" I said "Yes and don't feel like I am kicking you out. I just don't think we should fuck" he said "We can do other things" he said He want down on my cock and swallowed me. It felt so good as he sucked me and his tongue teased my cock. Then his fingers entered my ass and he worked my hole. I started to see stars as he worked over my prostate. I turned towards him and took his cock in my mouth and started to suck him. We 69 each other until I finally shot in his mouth and then he in mine. He pulled away and planted his mouth on mine and mixed the cum in our mouths together in a wild kiss. My mouth took it all in and our tongues danced. We pulled apart and held each other. I noticed his cock hard again. "You better get going before I fuck you" he said laughing. After we chatted I left. What a night.

I thought about going to the Professor's place but decided not too. I work with him and it would be weird I thought. But then again I thought of all the flirting moments especially the time at the department meeting. I paused and felt I need to hold back. As I thought about all the moments, I actually fell asleep. I woke up and it was 1:45pm and it was hot. I look down and my cock was hard. I got up and used the bathroom. I texted my friends and all had plans for the day and evening. Some wanted to go back to the bars we went to last night and I wasn't up for that again. I decided to take a shower and wake up. It was now 2:30pm and I finally decided to go for a swim at the Professor's place. I texted him that I was going to stop by for a swim. He texted back that he wasn't home and go ahead. I went into to the bedroom to change. I put on my new regular swimsuit. As I looked at myself I looked hot and it covered up things well. I paused then took it off. I pulled out the old smaller one and put it on. It covered less on both the front and back side. My cheeks hung out and on the front it really showed my thighs and it hung low on my waist. I decided to got with this. Then I put on my short running shorts and my running shirt. I drove over to his place which was about 20 minutes away on the other side of town. It was an small house with a fence around it. I went to the gate entered the number and went in. The yard was small but the pool was a decent size enough to do a lap. I put on sunscreen, my goggles and jumped in. It was hot so the water felt good. I got into a good rhythm and while the pool wasn't that long I got in a few strokes before turning back off the wall. After around 5 laps I saw a figure standing at the end of the pool. I stopped and looked up, it was Professor Post. "Hello, I am glad you decided to come and take me up on my offer" he said standing there "Thank you for offering it feels great to swim especially since its so hot" I said I looked up at him and he was in a tight white bikini. I could see his thick cock in the outline. The fabric shimmered a bit. He saw me look. "You like what you see" he said I just smiled and nodded. "I brought some food to snack on if you want" he said "I would love some" I said. As I climbed out of the pool I could see him look me over and devour me with his eyes. He knew I noticed. "Sorry for staring . You just look amazing in that swimsuit. It's very nice" he said "Thank you, I am glad you like it. I was actually going to wear another one that was bigger but I chose this one" I said. I don't know why I said that, maybe just nervous. "I am glad you did he said" handing me my towel and I could see his cock was hard and pushing out of his swimsuit. "You like mine too" he asked "Yes it looks very nice. The fabric shines" I said "Yes it does its very comfortable and feels smooth and silky" he said "yes it does" I said and I don't know what got into me but I reached out to touch the fabric. I didn't touch the area over his cock but the side. It felt smooth and silky. "You are right" I said rubbing his swimsuit. He softly grabbed my hand and led it over the front of the bikini going over his hard cock. "There you truly get a feel for the fabric" he said I could feel his cock pulsing as my hand went over it. "Lets go grab some food" he said holding my hand. He led me over to the pool lounging chairs. "I brought a bottle of wine for you as a gift for letting me come over and swim" I said "You didn't have to. That's sweet. Let's open it" he said He got some glasses and opened the bottle and we cheers and started to drink. We ate the cheese and cold cuts he had brought out. We talked about our background. I shared mine and he talked about his. He moved here about 10 years ago from Chicago after a breakup with his partner. He said he was gay and he just been single dating some guys but nothing serious. He asked if I had a gf. I told him not right now that we broke up. "Sorry to hear that, what happened" he asked I paused. "Sorry dont' feel like you have to answer me. Its okay." he said "No I think I should start talking about it" I said "I had a gf but we broke up as I started to have sex with a man" I said His face remained calm and understanding. "Was he your first man you had sex with?" he asked "Yes" I said I explained I had a couple of bj and hand job experiences in high school but no real sex. "What made you have sex with this man" he asked. He poured me another glass of wine. I explained it wasn't one thing. It was several interactions and being with him that made me feel relaxed and close to him and also never experiencing sex with a man and how much pleasure that can be. "Me too. I had gf and was even engaged. But had this older guy who I had sex with a few times and also showed me about male intimacy and pleasure" he said He told me he broke up with his fiancée and then started to date guys. His first was the older guy he had first sex with then other men. Then the latest was his last partner who was in his late 20's. "Wow lucky guy" I said "Ha ha thank you. Yes he was but we just didn't fit after a while. He also found someone else. It was fine." he said "So you and this man a couple?' he asked I paused "No not really. He is just helping me explore and guide me" I said. I looked over at him and saw cock hard. "it sure is a nice day" I said breaking up the conversation. He laughed yes it is. "We should get a nice tan today" he said "Yes we should. Can you put sunscreen on my back please" I said sitting up and facing my back to him. He sprayed and rubbed it in and then went right below my waist line. I was surprised but let him do it. "Why don't you lie down on your stomach" he said. I lay down on my stomach and he sprayed it again and rubbed me down. It felt good. He had strong hands. I let out a sigh. "Just relax" he said He went down again on my lower back and pulled down my bikini a few inches and rubbed in sunscreen. He pulled it back up hard creating almost a thong like feeling and then sprayed on my exposed butt cheeks. He rubbed it in and I let out a soft moan. He kept working my cheeks then sprayed on my thighs and legs. He worked my thighs and calves and then on his way back up my leg he took the inside and rubbed the inside of my thigh. I let out a moan. He did that several more times on each side. I heard him rustle and then felt his sit on my ass and thighs. OMG I felt his hard cock on my ass. He leaned down and lie on me. "I think we know we both found each other attractive. I couldn't help notice you liking my cycling shorts and checking out my cock. Or smelling my scent. I find you very attractive especially when you wear those short booty shorts and show off your fine ass and legs. Even that day it looked like you had cum leaking out of you. Yes I noticed it and went back to your chair and found cum on your desk seat. It tasted very good" he said whispering in my ear. My cock was hard and so was his. He kissed my ear and I turned back and we kissed. He pulled back and pulled down my bikini. I helped and then got back on all fours. Then I felt him spread my cheeks and then he dove in. I let out a loud moan as he started to eat my ass out. I pushed back on his mouth feeling his tongue, his teeth biting my and his scruffle on my cheeks. "Hmmm I know your pussy would taste sweet" he said going back and eating me out. All I could do is moan. He ate me out for a good five minutes. He really pushed his tongue deep in me then started to use his finger. I winced as I could feel his fingernails scrape me but moaned as he ate me out and alternated. Then I felt 2 then 3 fingers really stretching me. He was massaging me deep and going after my prostate. My head fell and I just moaned and could see precum leaking from my cock. Then he took my cock and placed it my mouth. It was huge. I started to suck and lick the head. The metal ring looked fatter then I saw it. I sucked him and it was difficult not to have it bang against my teeth. After he pushed my on my back. I spread my legs automatically and he lifted them on his shoulders. "I think we have both wanted this for a long time" he said pulling lube out of his beach bag and rubbing it on his cock. I nodded and tried to push my ass back on his head. "Easy boy let's take it slow" he said pushing his cock head in me. I winced. It hurt. Not only was he thick but that metal ring took a bit to get in. He finally got his head in and I yelled. He covered my mouth with a kiss and our tongues dueled. He kept his cock there and then slowly started to push in. He was huge and that ring made it more intense. I could feel it rub against the inner all and stretch my hole. He pushed slowly taking his time. We kissed and he would suck on my nipples which made me moan more. When he pushed deeper he would bit my nipples helping with the pain and he sank deeper in. Each inch I could feel that ring in my gutt. I had never felt anything so intense before in me. Then I felt him at the other place deep in me like another hole. "Ohhh Dan you feel so good. Your pussy is so sweet" he said kissing me "Ughhhh your cock is so huge and that ring is wrecking me" I moaned back "Yeah you like it don't you? I saw you stare at it all the time. I want it in you don't you" he said pushing deeper I didn't answer. He stopped and slowly pulled his cock back to the entrance but keeping the head in. "Yes I did. I wonder what your cock would feel like in me. It's so huge and gorgeous and that ring. I never felt anything like that before and I wanted to try it" I said moaning and trying to push my ass back on his cock. "And you want me in you?" he asked holding his cock there "Yes please fuck me. Please" I begged With that he pushed forward and pushed his cock into me breaking that other hole in me. My eyes popped out of my socket as I yelled. The pain was intense as his cock and that ring rammed though that deeper hole in me. Once all the way in me he was buried in me. I could feel the ring and his cock stretch my hole. "Ohh fuck I never thought your pussy would be this tight and good. Its milking me right now. Oh Dan" he said as he started to fuck me He kept a good pace of short strokes wrecking my prostate and make me moan loudly begging to fuck me. And then deep strokes ramming into my second hole. "Fuck your deep pussy is so tight your send cunt hole is juicy" he said as he was fucking me I just moaned and let go and let him take me . His cock and that ring were wrecking me and stretching me in every way. I started to feel his cock expand. "Fuck I'm close tell me where you want my load" he said "Cum in me please" he said "I am sorry I forgot to mention I am HIV positive" he said slowing down his fucking My mind snapped "I don't care fuck me please cum in me I want your load in me please" I said moaning and begging He had a surprised look and just started ramming into me. My eyes fell back in my head and I moaned and panted pushing my ass back on his cock. The finally I felt him spasm and shoot deep in me. "Ahhhh here my POZ load cums" yelled I felt spurts of his hot cum hit my inside. I also started to cum hands free shooting all over me and him. He shot 7-8 spurts of cum in me. He kept fucking me and I kept oozing cum out of my cock especially went he pushed on my prostate. Finally he slowed down and leaned in and we kissed like that for what seemed like hours. Ohhh this was wonderful I thought.

if you can't block him - can you contact the site (somehow) - and report him as abusive? whether you can or can't - maybe you do need to leave the site .. but i would check if you can delete your posts and profile before you leave .. some users on many sites - you just wanna tell them - if you can't say something nice - SHUT THE FUCK UP! 😉

I tell them we're living through a huge sex revolution. And in the future when everyone is remembering and talking about this moment in time they'll be talking how people suddenly connected like never before with new compatible partners online, they're going to be talking about people like me who went out and had fun with this new freedom. Not talking about the people who stayed home talking crap about it. Who's going to care about the story of those guys? They'll be the guys everyone rolls their eyes at and skims over, like the people who said the pill was slutty in the 60s. Nobody wrote a book about them, there was nothing to say and basically nobody agrees with them now anyway. So I'm going to spend this very sexy moment in time having fun with as many sexy men as possible.

Yes! It was fucking hot. Top pissed his tighty whities and hooded me with them first. Made out with me through them. Then fucked me and took them off my head while fucking doggy style and stuffed them in my mouth. I highly recommend it.

My wife went out of town on a business trip for three days. So, being the sleazy cumdump that I am when she isn't around, I went and put myself up in a cheap motel room and got on Sniffies. Took some edibles, started hitting the poppers, and started inviting randoms over to come fuck me. I was committed to being a no loads refused cumdump. All in, took more than 20 loads, most anon, from some extremely sleazy tops. I felt like such a dirty whore. Picked my wife up from the airport with cum still leaking out of my hole. All I know is that this is the type of thing I'm meant for... and am desperate to make this a regular thing.

The elastic waistband of Billy's boxers had snapped three days ago, leaving a frayed edge that kept catching on his hip bone. He'd meant to buy new ones, but the thought of standing in the underwear aisle at Target made his face hot, so he kept wearing the torn pair, tugging them straight whenever they bunched up under his jeans. It was one of those late September afternoons where the air felt thick with unfinished business—not quite summer, not yet autumn—and Billy found himself driving aimlessly past the Park & Ride off Route 117. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel to a song he'd turned off ten minutes prior. The lot was half-empty, just a few commuter cars and a dented pickup with an "I Brake for Moose" bumper sticker. He parked near the trailhead, where a sun-bleached sign warned hikers about ticks. Billy hesitated before stepping onto the trail, his sneakers crunching on the gravel shoulder. The path curved into the trees, dappled sunlight shifting as wind moved through the leaves overhead. He adjusted his backpack—a nervous habit—though all it held was an unopened water bottle and his car keys. The woods smelled like damp earth and something faintly metallic, like old pennies. A branch cracked somewhere to his right. Billy turned, expecting a squirrel or maybe a stray dog, but the movement came from further back near the parking lot. Three figures lingered between cars, their postures too still for casual loitering. One of them raised a hand—not quite a wave, more like marking territory—before they started walking toward the trailhead. Billy forced himself to breathe normally. He'd come here before. Nothing ever happened. Billy's pace quickened without meaning to, his sneakers scuffing against roots that ribbed the dirt path like exposed veins. The men’s footsteps behind him kept time—close enough that he could hear the jingle of keys in someone’s pocket, far enough that he could pretend they weren’t following him if he tried hard enough. He veered left where the trail forked, taking the narrower branch that wound deeper into the trees. The canopy thickened here, swallowing the afternoon light whole. The first hand on his shoulder didn’t startle him as much as the fact that it was gentle—almost apologetic—before spinning him around. “Hey,” the man said, his breath sour with convenience store coffee. He was older than Billy by a decade at least, his plaid shirt sleeves rolled to show faded jailhouse ink. The other two fanned out behind him, blocking the path back. One smirked; the other chewed his thumbnail raw. Billy's backpack slipped off his shoulder and thudded to the ground, the plastic water bottle inside rolling free. The man in plaid stepped closer, his work boots crushing dry leaves into powder. "You look lost," he said, though his eyes never left Billy's crotch. The other two chuckled—a wet, nasal sound from the thumbnail chewer, something lower and meaner from his smirking friend. Billy's mouth opened, but his throat had sealed itself shut. The first punch landed just below his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs in a single pained wheeze. Billy doubled over, only to be yanked upright by his hair. "Easy now," the plaid-shirted man murmured, as if soothing a spooked horse. His palm ground against Billy's erection through the denim, calloused fingers tracing the outline of it with clinical interest. Billy whimpered—equal parts terror and unwelcome arousal—as the man's grip tightened viciously. "That's what I thought," he said, and shoved Billy backward into the waiting arms of the others. Billy’s back hit the rough bark of an oak tree before he could twist free. The smirking one—grease under his fingernails, the acrid scent of motor oil clinging to his jacket—wrenched Billy’s arms behind him with practiced efficiency. Cold metal bit into his wrists as handcuffs clicked shut. “Stay,” the man murmured, patting Billy’s cheek like he was a dog. The plaid-shirted man crouched, fingers hooking into the torn waistband of Billy’s boxers. The fabric gave way with a sound like tearing paper. Billy squeezed his eyes shut, but the sudden rush of air against his exposed skin made his stomach lurch. Someone whistled low—not appreciation, but the kind of noise you’d make at a car wreck. Billy’s knees buckled as the plaid-shirted man’s fingers dug into his thighs, spreading him wider against the tree. The bark scraped his bare ass raw, but the pain was nothing compared to the humiliation burning through him. A strangled sob escaped his throat when the man spat into his palm, the sound wet and obscene in the quiet woods. “Look at that,” the man muttered, nodding toward Billy’s traitorous erection. “Little faggot’s dripping already.” The other two laughed—sharp, ugly sounds that made Billy’s skin crawl. The first thrust tore a scream from Billy’s lips, his body arching away instinctively, only to be slammed back against the tree. The man grunted, his breath hot and ragged against Billy’s neck as he set a brutal pace. Tears blurred Billy’s vision, but he could still see the witnesses—four now, maybe five—lingering at the edge of the clearing. One of them, a guy in a Patriots cap, had his hand shoved down his pants, his eyes locked on Billy’s trembling legs. Another muttered, “Jesus Christ,” but didn’t move. Billy’s begging dissolved into incoherent hiccups, his wrists chafing bloody against the cuffs. The rapist’s grip on Billy’s hips tightened, fingers digging into flesh like he was trying to leave permanent marks. Billy’s legs shook uncontrollably, his toes curling in the dirt as his body betrayed him, reacting to the assault with a humiliating, unwanted pleasure. “Say it,” the man growled into his ear, his breath reeking of cigarettes. “Say you want this.” Billy clenched his teeth, shaking his head violently, until the man twisted his fingers into Billy’s hair and yanked his head back against the tree. “Say it, or I’ll make sure you never walk right again.” Tears streaked Billy’s face as he choked out the words, voice cracking under the weight of his shame. “I—I want this.” The men watching let out a chorus of jeers and dark laughter, one of them spitting into the leaves near Billy’s feet. The rapist didn’t slow his rhythm, grinding Billy against the bark with each thrust. “Louder,” he demanded, his free hand smacking Billy’s ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. “Tell them what you’re getting.” Billy sobbed openly now, his throat raw. “I—I’m getting HIV as a free gift from this man.” The words tasted like bile in his mouth. The man behind him chuckled, low and satisfied, while one of the witnesses—a gaunt guy with a patchy beard—groaned and came in his own hand, his eyes never leaving Billy’s exposed body. Another shouted, “Gag him and keep going!” as if this were some twisted spectator sport. The rapist obliged, shoving Billy’s own torn boxers into his mouth, muffling his cries. Billy’s mind spiraled—this was the fantasy he’d secretly gotten off to for years, the [banned word] scenario he’d never dared speak aloud. Now it was real, and the horror of it clawed at his chest. He could feel the man’s climax building, the ragged breathing against his neck, the way his thrusts grew erratic. When it finally happened, Billy gagged around the fabric in his mouth, his body shuddering with revulsion and something else, something darker—relief that it was almost over. The rapist stepped back with a grunt, wiping himself off with Billy’s discarded T-shirt before tossing it into the dirt. The handcuffs clicked open, and Billy’s arms dropped limply to his sides, blood rushing back into his bruised wrists. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t want to see their faces. He just pulled his pants up with trembling hands, the denim sticking to his skin in places he didn’t want to think about. The witnesses lingered, their eyes still on him, as if waiting for an encore. One of them—the Patriots cap guy—snorted and said, “Serves you right, you little cock tease.” Billy didn’t reply. He just stumbled toward the trail, his legs unsteady, his breath coming in shallow hitches. He made it to his car without looking back, fumbling with the keys before collapsing into the driver’s seat. The steering wheel was cold under his forehead as he finally let himself break down, sobbing until his ribs ached. Three weeks later, the clinic called with his results. The word “positive” echoed in his skull long after he hung up. That night, alone in his bedroom, Billy touched himself for the first time since the woods, replaying every degrading moment in his head until he came with a choked cry. The guilt should have swallowed him whole. Instead, he felt something worse—a twisted kind of freedom. He was marked now, owned in a way he couldn’t undo. And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that knowledge made him smile in the dark. The digital clock on Billy’s nightstand blinked 3:17 AM when he finally gave up on sleep. His sheets were damp with sweat, twisted around his legs like restraints. He sat up, rubbing at his wrists—the bruises had faded, but the skin there still felt tender, as if the cuffs had left invisible marks that only he could feel. The HIV pamphlet from the clinic lay crumpled on his desk, its cheerful infographics at odds with the cold weight in his chest. Billy padded to the bathroom, avoiding the mirror until the last possible second. When he finally looked, his reflection surprised him—dark circles under his eyes, yes, but also a new sharpness to his cheekbones, a hunger in his own gaze that hadn’t been there before. He traced the bite mark on his collarbone, long since scabbed over, and wondered if it would scar. Part of him hoped it would. The shower spray stung his back where bark had scraped him raw, but he turned the temperature hotter anyway, letting the pain ground him. His hands moved mechanically, washing away nothing. When he reached between his legs, his breath hitched—not from fear, but from the traitorous throb of arousal that flared at the memory of rough hands holding him down. He came silently against the tiles, his knees buckling as shame and pleasure twisted together in his gut. At work the next day, Billy caught his coworker Jeff staring at his neck during their morning meeting. Jeff quickly looked away when Billy met his eyes, but not before Billy saw the flicker of recognition—and something darker, more calculating—in his expression. Later, in the break room, Jeff "accidentally" brushed against him while reaching for the coffee pot, his fingers lingering a beat too long on Billy’s hip. "Rough night?" Jeff murmured, nodding to the fresh scratches Billy had left on his own thighs in the shower. Billy’s pulse spiked, equal parts panic and thrill. That evening, Billy found himself driving past the Park & Ride again. He didn’t pull in, just slowed enough to see the dented pickup still parked near the trailhead. His hands tightened on the wheel. Part of him wanted to burn the place down; another part wanted to walk back into those woods and wait. Instead, he drove home, where he spent hours scrolling through hookup apps, deleting and redownloading them in a cycle of self-loathing. When a faceless profile messaged him "I’ll make you scream," Billy blocked them immediately—then came harder than he had in weeks imagining what they might have done to him. The clinic counselor had told him to report the assault. Billy had laughed until he cried. Now, lying in bed with his laptop open, he stared at the blank text box of an anonymous confession forum. His fingers hovered over the keys. *I let it happen*, he typed, then deleted. *I wanted it*, he tried, but that wasn’t quite true either. In the end, he settled on a single sentence: *I’m not the same person anymore.* He closed the laptop without posting it. Outside his window, a car engine growled to life—someone leaving, or arriving. Billy pressed a hand to his racing heart and wondered if this feeling would ever stop. The sound of gravel popping under tires startled Billy awake at 4:03 AM. His bedroom window faced the parking lot of his apartment complex, and for a disorienting second, he thought he was back in the Park & Ride—body pressed into dirt, the metallic taste of fear thick on his tongue. But it was just Mrs. Kowalski's son coming home from his night shift at the refinery, his boots scraping concrete as he trudged upstairs. Billy exhaled, his fingers unclenching from the sheets. He reached for his phone out of habit, thumbing through Grindr notifications with a detached curiosity. Three faceless profiles had messaged him since midnight—*hung top 4 tight hole* and *discreet car fun?* and the one that made his stomach twist: *like it rough?* Billy's thumb hovered over the last one. He could almost smell the motor oil and coffee breath again, feel the bark biting into his thighs. His free hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers before he could stop it. The knock at his door came as he was finishing, a sharp rap that sent his pulse skittering. Billy froze, come cooling on his fingers. No one ever visited at this hour. Through the peephole, the distorted fisheye view showed Jeff from work leaning against the hallway wall, a six-pack dangling from one hand. "Saw your light on," Jeff called, voice muffled through the door. Billy watched as Jeff scratched at his neck—right where the bite mark would be if Billy hadn't worn a turtleneck to the office. Billy opened the door three inches, the chain lock taut. Jeff's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Can't sleep either, huh?" He hefted the beer like a peace offering. Billy noticed the grease under Jeff's nails, the way his shoulders filled the doorway. It wasn't plaid, but the red-checkered flannel was close enough. "You shouldn't be here," Billy said, but his fingers were already unhooking the chain. — The clinic had given him pamphlets on PTSD, on safe sex after seroconversion, on "reclaiming your body." None of them mentioned this: Jeff's calloused palm sliding up his thigh under the kitchen table, the way Billy's breath hitched when Jeff's thumb found the raw spot on his inner thigh where he'd scratched himself raw in the shower. None of the pamphlets warned about the electric thrill of seeing the hunger in Jeff's eyes when Billy "accidentally" spilled beer on his own shirt, the fabric clinging to his collarbones. "You're fucked up," Jeff murmured against Billy's neck later, pinning his wrists to the mattress with one hand. It wasn't a question. Billy arched into it, his hips stuttering when Jeff's teeth found the half-healed bite mark. The pain was bright and clean, cutting through the fog that had settled in his skull since the woods. — Morning light revealed the bruises in brutal clarity. Jeff had left before dawn, taking the empty beer bottles with him. Billy traced the fingerprint-shaped marks on his wrists—lighter than the handcuffs, but darker in some unnameable way. His phone buzzed: a text from Jeff. *Same time tomorrow?* Billy didn't reply. Instead, he dressed carefully—long sleeves despite the unseasonable warmth—and drove to the Park & Ride. The dented pickup was gone, but the trailhead remained, the tick warning sign still bleached from the sun. He stood there for twenty minutes, watching a middle-aged couple in matching hiking gear emerge from the trees, their laughter carrying across the asphalt. Back in his car, Billy finally texted Jeff back: *Bring handcuffs.* He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and peeled out of the lot, gravel spraying behind him. The woods receded in his rearview mirror, but the itch under his skin remained. Somewhere between Route 117 and the on-ramp to I-95, Billy realized he was grinning.

I would say yes, to some extent. Its probably a combination of several things. Age you started being one. Like other things you learn, the younger you start, generally the better you tend to become at something. And your natural feelings about wanting cock. That idea is hard to quantify. But for me anyway I know I crave cock more than some others do. Its hard to explain, but I just don't want to suck a cock, Its like I am obsessed with it. I want it down my throat with an intensity that is hard to describe. It is just this this incredibly intense desire. So perhaps sucking a cock means more to some of us than just getting a man off.

If you could change one thing about your cock, balls or arse, what would it be? I really admire tops with lowhangers and when they fuck, that banging - the feeling, the sound. I would choose to have a pair of droopy nuts that need scooping into my jock strap.

Dr. Elias Thorne sat behind his polished oak desk in the dimly lit office, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only sound breaking the tension. At 42, he was a seasoned physician with a lean, athletic build honed from years of gym sessions and discreet hookups. His salt-and-pepper hair framed a sharp jawline, and his green eyes held a predatory gleam hidden behind professional glasses. He was HIV positive, a status he'd embraced years ago after his own diagnosis turned what could have been fear into a twisted liberation. Today, his patient was Alex Rivera, a 20-year-old college sophomore with tousled brown hair, wide blue eyes, and a slender frame that screamed vulnerability. Alex fidgeted in the chair opposite, his hands twisting the hem of his hoodie, fresh from the blood test results that had shattered his world. "Alex, take a deep breath," Dr. Thorne said, his voice smooth and reassuring as he leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "The test came back positive for HIV. I know this feels overwhelming right now, but let's talk about what this means." Alex's face paled, his eyes welling up. He'd come in after a wild weekend at a frat party, hooking up with a guy he'd met in the bathroom line. Now, the reality hit like a freight train. "What... what about AIDS? Am I going to die? I can't tell my roommates, my family... this ruins everything." His voice cracked, shoulders hunching as if to shield himself from the diagnosis. Dr. Thorne stood, rounding the desk with deliberate slowness. He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, feeling the young man's tremble. "Hey, listen to me. HIV isn't the end. It's a new beginning, especially for someone like you—a young, attractive gay man exploring his sexuality. I've been poz for over a decade, and let me tell you, it's freed me in ways you can't imagine yet." Alex looked up, confusion mixing with his fear. "Freed? How? I feel trapped, like I have to hide forever, be careful with every guy..." The doctor smiled, a warm, inviting curve of his lips that belied the hunger building in his gut. He locked the office door with a soft click and drew the blinds, the room growing cozier, more intimate. "That's the fear talking. But what if I told you that once you're fully poz, like me, you don't have to worry anymore? No more condoms, no more testing, just pure, raw connection with any man who catches your eye." Alex blinked, his cheeks flushing. "But... transmission? I don't want to hurt anyone." Dr. Thorne chuckled low, his hand sliding down Alex's arm. "You're already infected, kid. The virus is in you now. Why fight it? Let it become part of who you are. I can help you embrace it—right here, right now. It'll wash away that worry like nothing else." Alex's breath hitched, a mix of shock and intrigue flickering in his eyes. The doctor's touch was electric, sending a forbidden spark through his body. He'd always been drawn to older men, the authority they exuded, and Dr. Thorne's confidence was intoxicating. "What do you mean... help?" he whispered, even as his body betrayed him, a subtle shift in his seat as arousal stirred despite the terror. Dr. Thorne knelt slightly, his face level with Alex's, voice dropping to a husky murmur. "I'll give you the full load, straight from me to you. My cum inside your ass will seal it, make you one of us. You'll feel the weight lift, I promise. Trust me—I've done this before. It's the best therapy." The room felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken desire. Alex's heart pounded, but the doctor's words wormed into his mind, painting a picture of freedom he'd never considered. No more paranoia after every hookup, no more barriers. Just endless nights of uninhibited pleasure. He nodded hesitantly, standing as Dr. Thorne guided him to the examination table, its paper covering crinkling under his weight. "Strip down," the doctor instructed, his tone firm yet gentle. Alex peeled off his hoodie and jeans, revealing smooth, toned skin from soccer practice, his boxers tenting slightly from the illicit thrill. Dr. Thorne's eyes raked over him appreciatively, shedding his white coat and unbuttoning his shirt to expose a chiseled chest dusted with hair. "Lie back, legs up," Dr. Thorne commanded, helping Alex into position, knees bent and spread. The young man's cock twitched free as his boxers came off, half-hard and leaking pre-cum from the adrenaline. Dr. Thorne dropped his pants, his thick, veined cock springing out—seven inches of rigid heat, uncut and already slick at the tip. He was poz, his viral load undetectable but potent enough in fantasy to transmit the gift he craved to share. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer—clinical, but perfect for the act—and coated his fingers, pressing one against Alex's tight hole. Alex gasped as the digit breached him, circling the rim before sliding in knuckle-deep. "Relax, boy," Dr. Thorne murmured, pumping slowly, adding a second finger to stretch the virgin-tight entrance. Alex had bottomed before, but never like this—raw, in a doctor's office, with the explicit intent of infection. The intrusion burned then bloomed into pleasure, his cock hardening fully as Dr. Thorne's fingers curled, grazing his prostate. "Feels good, doesn't it? This is just the start. Imagine my cock filling you, pumping my seed deep where it belongs." Alex moaned, hips bucking involuntarily. "Y-yes, Doctor... it does." The fear ebbed, replaced by a hazy lust. Dr. Thorne withdrew his fingers, slicking his cock generously before positioning the blunt head at Alex's entrance. He pushed forward steadily, the ring of muscle yielding with a pop as the first few inches sank in. Alex cried out, gripping the table's edges, the stretch intense but welcome. "Breathe through it," Dr. Thorne coached, inching deeper until his balls rested against Alex's ass. Fully sheathed, he paused, letting the patient adjust, their eyes locking in a moment of raw connection. Then he began to thrust—slow at first, pulling out to the tip before slamming back in, building a rhythm that made the table creak. Alex's ass clenched around the invading shaft, the friction sending jolts of ecstasy through both men. Dr. Thorne gripped Alex's thighs, spreading them wider, pounding harder as sweat beaded on his brow. "That's it, take my cock like the poz slut you're becoming," he growled, voice laced with encouragement. Alex whimpered, his own hand wrapping around his dick, stroking in time with the doctor's relentless fucks. The office filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, Alex's hole loosening to accommodate the girth, milking the length with every withdrawal. Dr. Thorne leaned down, capturing Alex's lips in a bruising kiss, tongues tangling as he drove deeper, angling to hit that sweet spot repeatedly. Alex broke the kiss with a shout, pre-cum dribbling over his fist. "Fuck, Doctor... it's so deep... don't stop." The doctor grinned, sweat dripping onto Alex's chest. "I won't. Feel that? My cock owning your ass, ready to flood you with my load. You're going to love being poz—free to bend over for anyone, anytime." His pace quickened, hips snapping forward with bruising force, balls tightening as climax approached. Alex's body arched, his orgasm crashing first—ropes of cum splattering his abs as his ass spasmed around Dr. Thorne's pistoning cock. The contraction pushed the doctor over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he unleashed thick spurts of semen deep into Alex's guts. Jet after jet coated the inner walls, the warmth spreading like a promise. Dr. Thorne held still, grinding to ensure every drop stayed inside, his breath ragged against Alex's ear. As he softened slightly but remained plugged in, Dr. Thorne pulled back to meet Alex's dazed gaze. "There... now you're free, Alex. My cum's in you, making you poz just like me. No more worrying about AIDS or transmission—you're happy now, liberated to chase every cock that tempts you without a second thought." His words washed over Alex like a balm, the post-orgasmic haze amplifying the twisted joy. The fear that had gripped him earlier dissolved, replaced by a euphoric high. He was part of something now, unbound. Dr. Thorne eased out with a wet pop, a trickle of cum leaking from Alex's puffy hole. Alex sat up, legs shaky, and pulled the doctor into a tight hug, their naked bodies pressing together. "Thank you, Doctor... I feel it. Free. I can't wait to get out there and let guys fuck me raw." He dressed quickly, a newfound swagger in his step, waving goodbye with a grin as he left the office. The door clicked shut, and Alex stepped into the hallway, the world suddenly full of possibilities—bars, apps, anonymous encounters where he could offer his ass freely, celebrating his status with every load he took. Alex smiled and walked away knowing life had changed. He was charged and ready for what may come.

A week ago a friend of mine put me in touch with this Nigerian who had a big dick, I have had him at my place a few times now and we have had fun. He called me this morning and my heart started pounding knowing that he was wanting to fuck again, I answered the and he asked if he could come over around lunchtime, I said yes like the cock crazed slut I am, he said he had a surprise for me as well. Anyway lunchtime came, and there was a knock at my door, so I undressed so I was in bra and panties, and went and answered the door, he was standing there with 4 other Nigerians, I allowed them enter my place and as soon as the door shut, I was picked up and carried to my living room,pushed to my knees and watched as each man pulled his cock out and slapping me with there cocks, I started sucking one cock at a time as they got hard, my mouth was being fucked, I was gagging as each took his turn. Suddenly my bra was off as one of them started pinching my nipples, and another ripped my panties saw I was wearing a cock cage squeezed my balls hard and spanked me, the other 3 were undressing whilst one fucked my mouth and throat with his cock and the othet abused my caged clit, balls and ass, still have whelts on my ass he was spanking me that hard, suddenly my face was being shoved down between an ass, and I was being told to eat it out, when I felt a cock being pushed against my boipussy, I tried to say to them to use lube, but my head was being forced onto asshole to eat, the pain from the penetration was making me cry, as he inched his cock into my dry pussy hole, I could hear them encouraging him to go deeper and harder into me, as they where telling him that he had made me cry for his cock, whilst I was still forced to eat an asshole, I'm not sure how long this guy fucked me, but when he came I could feel him pulsing inside me, it also eased the pain of being dry fucked, as he pulled his cock out, he told one of the others that "she is ready for another cock now. The guy who I was eating out pulls me up by my hair and starts to try and stick his cock inside me, when he finally found my hole it slid in with ease as my hole was so gaped from the first guy. He started fucking me when he called out for a second cock to penetrate me. I have had 2 cocks before, but never as big as these guys cocks. As the secocnd cock started pushing from behind, once again the pain was there but differently as I was being opened up even more, another guy stands over his mates face as he shoves his cock down my throat, when he took his cock out of my mouth I notice the guy below him was licking his balls, by this time the two cocks were inside me now, and both thrusting inside me, my ass felt loose now and accepting the two cocks. I noticed the first guy that had fucked me, was bent over my couch being fucked, which got me so horny and hoping that the guy fucking him, fucks me as soon as the two fucking me finish, I was wanting ass covered cock inside me. I could feel cum coming out of my boipussy as the two where fucking me. One of them started to grunt and his thrusting started to get harder, when he let out a gasp as he came inside and onver his mates cock that was also inside, I could feel my clit in thae cage trying to get hard, pushing against the flat metal cage end, it has been a very long time since I have had my clit get hard, and the flat cage pushes my clit inside me. When he pulled out his cock my boipussy was making a wet farting sound as the other guy I was on top other continued to fuck me with 2 loads of cum as lube inside me, he came inside me but kept his cock in me as he kept thrusting telling me he was making sure all the seed inside me would go deeper, the guy I was sucking blew his load down my throat. The other guy fucking his friend came inside of him, I was told to go and clean his ass out, which I did. They all got dressed, slapped my ass and said in there broken english, that I was a good fuck toy, and will get used again as a bitch should be used. My hold is sore and puffy, but I am definitely looking forwards to being used again, Strange thing I usually don't like pain, but for some reason it had me even more horny, so much so I had to use a dildo even feeling sore to make my clit cum to reduce my horniness.

I enjoy choking a cocksucker. My cock curves up so I love to put him on his back on the bed with his head hanging over the edge. When I thrust deep down his throat my balls are pressed hard over his nose so he can’t breathe through his mouth cuz it’s stretched over my cock and he can’t breathe through his nose cuz my balls are pressed over it. He can breathe when I pull back ready to thrust in again. I expect him to hold his breath when I’m rammed in deep shooting my load. I like to be well sweaty so he gets to smell my nuts when they’re hard on his nose.

"So, I see two stories here, faggot" said the Latino clerk, possibly shift manager, who had yet to offer a name, "story number one - my buddy Daschelle here ID'ed that guy who went running out of here as a middle of the road plug, so from what I see, you two meet here to do a deal, he gets spooked, runs out of here leaving you with all this shit," he gestures at the drugs and paraphernalia on the table in the little stock room, "and you panic and dump it in the trash." "That's not..." I tried to clarify. "Shut up, homo cunt. Real men are still talking. So second story is you are his supplier, and he ran off with the shit and without paying you jack. No way that your fat fucking bitchass could catch him. So which is it, slut?" I knew I was in trouble. My piss would be almost pure meth if the cops were to take me in and U/A me. I couldn't risk any word of this getting back to the state licensing board. And I was still high from earlier and the musky smell from the Latino guy was doing weird things to my brain. "Findom" I blurted out. Then I realized how fucked I was now. "What was that?" Latino clerk asked, puzzled. They didn't hear, that's good. "Findom" I said again, "Financial domination. I'm a submissive, I get off paying Dominant guys to control and abuse me and humiliate me, and that guy I came in with was supposed to fuck me in public in exchange for $160." Why was I explaining this, you might ask? Because I wanted to pick up the pipes from the table and smoke them so badly and maybe they would let me if I cooperated. Daschell the clerk and the Latino clerk looked at each other and started laughing. It was an evil laugh, full of bad things to come. "So, cunt, you had to pay some guy $160 to fuck your fatass, and he takes the money and runs before he has to stick his dick in that fat cunt. If that loser was work $160, me and my buddy here are easily worth $500...apiece. It's your lucky day, cashpig. Now, strip."

Moderator's Note: This post contains an offensive racist epithet. "Excuse me, Sir" There were three clerks working the adult bookstore, that I could see. A skinny, tatted up Latino guy who looked like a gangbanger trying to go straight, a chubby kid with acne who had to be fresh out of high school, and a tall, broad, athletic black kid. It was the kid with acne whose voice stopped me in my tracks as I attempted to walk out of the video store. "Uh, excuse me, Sir, is there a problem with the booth or the video you selected?" "No, it's just..." I started to explain. "Because you can switch to another video if you aren't finding that one to your standards, Sir. Maybe something more kinky?" The acne faced 18 year old blushed, saying the word "kinky" to a guy old enough to be his dad. "Thank you - it's all fine. It's just my...friend had to leave unexpectedly and so I don't really need the booth anymore." I replied, aware that both the other employees and the early morning customers were all looking now. The Latino kid went into the booth, probably glad he didn't have to scrub jizz off of the walls. I thanked the ginger teen with the bad skin and started to walk out again. "Uh uh - stop him Daschell" shouted the Latino kid as he walked out of the booth with the garbage can. "He ain't going nowhere." Suddenly the 6'2" 20 something black kid made of pure muscle was between me and the door. Me, I'm 43 and almost 400lbs. There's no way I'm getting past him. He grabs my arm and pulls me back to the register counter. The ginger teen and the Latino are standing there with the small garbage can from video booth 4 on the counter. Inside, two full meth pipes, three torches and a sack of something I couldn't identify, and a partial sack of meth. I put it all into the garbage can because I couldn't walk out carrying it all. "So, faggot" the Latino said when Daschell brought me to them, "looks like you and your friend planned a little party today. Suddenly he takes off like the place is on fire, then your fat faggot ass tries to slip out quietly, and I find all these drugs in our store. What do you think it all means, faggot." Every time this tatted up Latino adult video store employee called me a faggot, I tried not to show how much I enjoyed it. This was a very delicate moment. There were three of them, but I was twice their age. They had some serious shit I had left behind, but as long as I didn't show any weakness, I could talk my way out of it. But I hadn't counted on Daschell, all 6'2 and 200lbs of him, who pressed his 20 year old hard body up against my flabby 43 year old ass, and said "I recognize that old nigger who went running out of here. He deals some quality shit. Looks like they were doing a sale and he got spooked and ran. What would a voluptuous slut like you," here his hands reached around and grabbed my fat bitch tits and squeezed, "be doing meeting someone like him in a place like this at 7:00am on a Thursday morning?" I gave a short, sharp gasp as his fingers found my large nipples and twisted. I was losing ground here and needed to establish dominance before things spiraled out of control. As strange hands massage and grope my man breasts and tweak my nipples, I struggle to maintain coherent thought. Before I could say anything, I was interrupted by the Latino kid. "Hey Milo, you watch up here's. Me and Daschell and this junkie faggot are gonna go to the back room to talk," he grumbled, picking up the plastic bin and walking towards a door labeled Employees Only. Daschell somehow kept his hands busy on my body while dragging me back there. I knew whatever was about to happen would not be good.

Dude. First of all, thank you for sharing such a good and well written story. Never have I ever identified so well with a story. I've never been a bug chaser, though I always liked bareback and stealthing. This story has change me, never have I been so caught up in a story like this. The conflicts, the struggle to accept. I was so turned on, and I think I've jerked off 10 times reading everything. Last three times, Ive imagine myself being fucked by a poz guy, not taking my PrEP, and it gets me so horny like never before. I never knew. Thanks for opening my eyes man. I finally feel I know myself better. I have a pussy and I need a poz dick inside me now. Just now, I came twice in a row fucking myself with a dildo, while imagining it to be a poz cock.

I don’t care if my cocksucker is choking and gagging. But he MUST keep his mouth open and available at all times while I’m fucking his throat. Gagging is a reflex action BUT a submissive committed cocksucker should have no problem willingly keeping his mouth open. Anyway, it’s a turn on for me to see him with tears running down his cheeks, drooling, choking and retching while I’m pumping my seed deep in his throat. After all, isn’t that what he craves?

I woke up and went into the office. Professor Post and some of the other staff were there. We had another meeting in his office to plan the field trip in a few weeks. We were finalizing the list and he was going over the importance of each part of the town, some of the places we would visit and the lecture overview. He didn't finish the final list and asked if I could stop by at the end of the day to discuss it as I was in charge of logistics and we were a little behind schedule in contacting the places. I agreed. I went to my classes and at then hung out at a coffee shop and did some homework. Just before 5p I went back to work to stop by with Professor Post. When I got there the secretary and another student employee were still there. I went into his office and he was wearing his cycling outfit already. It was little different as his shorts seemed tighter and more revealing. His cock was hard and when I walked in it was not easy not to look. I also looked at his balls which looked huge and more outlined. He saw and smiled at me. We talked and he shared the list he was looking at. It was an art gallery, a dilapidated warehouse used for community events and rally's, a bar and a restaurant. They were in a more run-down part of town that also had some seedy part including the ABS I went to. As things were finalized, he told me to follow up with them to set up tours. I told him I would work on it tomorrow. As we finished up he said he like working with me and hope I enjoyed it too. I said I did and he mentioned he hoped me and other students would learn more about the underserved parts of our town. I told him I looked forward to it too. As were sitting across from each other with no table I could see his cock and would glance on occasion when I thought he wasn't looking. I also was getting hard from looking at him and the smell of him. The A/C shuts off at 5p and it started to get stuffy with his scent. I inhaled. "Sorry if I smell, I didn't take a shower this morning after cycling in or last night" he said looking at me also looking down at my crotch. I was wearing my usual running shorts and they were at mid thigh at this point and my cock was pushing out a bit. "No you don't smell bad at all". I said "I am glad" he said smiling I asked if were done and he said yes so I left using my notepad to hide my erection. I went back to my desk to put my notebook back and check my emails. I rubbed my cock which was hard. Professor Post came in the back to my desk. "Here is one more place I would like to add" he said handing me a paper. It was a health clinic in the area that helped the underserved, LGBTQ and HIV population. I said I would add it to the list. As I looked back to him my eyes scanned his crotch area to see the outline of his now rock-hard cock that was pushing out of his shorts. It looked like he also pulled up the shorts above his waist so his balls were on full display. Also is scent was strong. He saw me look. "Everything ok and look in order" he said smiling stepping closer to me. Now his crotch was about 18 inches away from me. "Yes I said I will add this place to the list" I said back looking up at him. I could see him stare at my crotch. "Professor Post you back here" said the secretary walking back. They both walked away to go the front office. I left work and went to the campus pool and went for a swim. I did laps and it felt good to exercise and clear my mind. I picked up pizza on the way home and ate dinner had some beers and watched TV. Rick texted me. R-what you up to D-watching tv. You? R- drinking at the bar of my hotel. D- no lucky guy getting your cock tonight? R- maybe. I have two guys one 19 and the other 28. Fuck how does this guy do it. Actually what am I saying, I know how he does it. D- where are you meeting these guys? R- manhunt and bbrt D- what are those R- lol...gay hook up apps D- Oh I googled them. One was a gay hook up and the other the same but for bareback sex. D-what's your profile name? R-HUNGPOZTOP4BRDG D-Really? I created an account and looked him up while I texted with him R- yes. How do you think I get so many guys contacting me R- I don't hide it D- That's mind-blowing I finally found his account. It was him and very sexy. HUNGPOSTOP4BRDG Older experienced hung POZ top for breeding bottoms. You be a hot hole looking to get filled by POZ charged cum. High VRL here. Not on meds. No condoms. Looking for good time with bottoms. Non PREP to front of the line. Prefer under 40 yrs old. Virgins to the front. I can open you open and make your pussy sing. Then there were pics. All of his body and his hung hard cock. One with cum oozing out and another two with him in a bottom and one more with the bottom with cum leaking from their ass. My cock was raging hard right now. D- you there? I waited 5 minutes. R- sorry meeting up with one of them now. R- Image (It was a pick of what looked like a thin younger dude. Face blocked. Tight body and he was bent over with cum leaking out of his ass. D- Wow that was quick. You came in him already. R- No he pre-lubed himself. D- which one you with? R- 19 yr old. His first time with POZ top:) R- TTYL I was jealous of that kid.

What had I just done. Only a few weeks ago I was a straight guy with a hot gf. While she could be a pill, she was hot. Lots of guys would stare at her when we went out together. Especially when she would wear tight yoga pants, tight short skirts barely covering her crotch or short sheer dresses or short shorts. And now I was at an ABS with cum dripping from my ass, in fact POZ cum to add, and sucked off guys too. As I began to pull up my pants another guy put his cock through the hole. It was thick and a good size. I finished zipping up my jeans as I got ready to leave and then he said. "Get down on your knees boy. I heard a sluttly whore was in here taking all cocks. I looked closer at his cock. It was nice and veiny. There was a tattoo at the base. It was a biohazard sign. I just dropped to my knees and started to suck it. "Ahhh damn what a warm mouth" he said I sucked him hard and played with his cock with my tongue. Suddenly he pulled out. Then I heard a knock on my door. I opened the door. It was the clerk. He looked older close up. He pulled out his cock and it was about 7 inches and hard. I got hard and turned around. He put the tip of his cock at my hole and started to fuck me. I just bent over and moaned. It felt so good. He knew how to fuck and he was giving it to me. The way he was working his cock in me was driving me crazy. He wasn't huge but he knew how to fuck me and hit me in the right places. I moaned louder and pushed back on his cock. "Yeah you are a fucking dirty whore. Taking loads from strange men. FUCK...your pussy is so tight and its grabbing my cock. You are a find." he said ramming into me. He reached around and pinched my nipples and I yelled out. "Oh fuck yeah your cunt feels amazing. Can't believe you are still tight taking all these cocks you slut" he said He kept pounding me and I felt deep in my groing and in my ass the heat rise and it started to spasm and I started to cum. "Ohhhhhhhhh fuck me" I moaned "Ahhhhh your fucking cunt is strangling my cock ahhhh. Here it comes bitch." he said as he came in my ass. I felt at least 7 hot spurts coat my cunt. "Fuck yeah you like POZ cum don't you" he said still pumping me He's POZ? I felt my inside twitch. "Hmm yeah your cunt likes it. Its milking me now hard" he moaned My cock was still hard leaking cum on the floor. Finally he pulled out and I turned and dropped and took him in my mouth. "Ohhh you dirty little whore you love POZ cock dont you. You keep coming back here I could whore you out. Give you all the dirty cock you need." he said WTF did he say. I just kept sucking him off. I looked up at him. He smiled. He told me his name is Ray and to come back often he can line up guys to fuck me. He pulled up his shorts and went back to work. I needed to get the fuck out of here. I had cum leaking from my ass and all over my face. I cleaned up with some tissues and walked out in a hurry and got into my car. What just happened?

**This is a work of fantasy and fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Nothing in this work should be construed as medical advice in any way** CHAPTER 5: BUSTIN’ LOADS IN BOSTON The presentation went well, Dr Matthew was well-practiced at delivering his speech, the attendees didn’t suspect a thing, he thought confidently to himself. Afterwards, his fellow medical professionals came up to him with congratulations and kudos. Professionally, he felt fulfilled. After all, nothing in his talk was contrary to what he believed as a doctor or what he tells his patients now – there are ways to avoid contracting HIV and he is an advocate for prevention – IF that is what his patient desires. Was it that last qualifier about patient desires that he sneaked into his speech at this last minute, perhaps delivering a small window of doubt for some attendees? Dr. Matthew didn’t think so, and he collected his check for his speaking fee from the organizers and dialed Solomon’s number for a ride to Logan Airport. Stepping outside, he now saw it was snowing heavily, after just being fairly mild in temperature in the morning, a cold front moved in and Dr. Matthew hoped his plane back to LA would not be delayed. Of course, Matthew was hoping Solomon had time to stop the car in his favorite Boston alleyway and plant some more toxic AIDS-seed deep up Matthew’s guts. Since arriving in Boston 3 days ago, Matthew had been gifted with Solomon’s special seed 6 times, whenever their schedules made it possible. Matthew knew enough to know that a few hot fucks in the back of an Uber, or in his hotel room, probably weren’t sufficient for conversion, but his aim now was to take every unmedicated HIV load available, and Dr. Matthew’s tight little body and smooth butt were inviting targets for insemination by poz predators like Solomon, proud pozfather of 25 already. The six loads of HIV the hot African man blasted into his guts brought Matthew’s known poz intake to 140 loads, and he was hellbent on getting one more for the road. He was lost in this fantasy daydream as Solomon’s car pulled up to the event center. The tall Nigerian Uber driver leapt out and they hugged tightly and then he placed Matthew’s suitcase in the trunk. Matthew was just about to get into the back seat when a voice from the event center entrance called out his name: “Dr. Hill, are you off to the airport? My ride got cancelled for some reason, do you mind if we share a ride?” It was Dr. Mitchell Greene from New York, a colleague in the world of HIV-medicine, a steadfast promoter of safe sexual encounters, Dr. Greene had teamed up with a gay podcaster to be a regular guest on his show and offer advice to neg and poz guys alike. It is here that Matthew, being the caring individual he is, immediately thought not of himself but of a colleague needing his assistance, and he called back to Dr. Greene, “Of course, Mitch, you’re welcome to share!” And as soon as he heard himself saying that, he had twinges of regret, for now this was just a ride to the airport, and not a ride on Solomon’s huge poz-toxic member. But what was done was done, and Matthew accepted it, knowing he was due to start regular HIV inseminations from Randy back home in LA. Dr. Greene handed Solomon his bag and as Solomon turned to share a regretful look over at Dr. Matthew about this unplanned guest, Dr. Greene reached up to close the hatchback of Solomon’s RAV4, and as he did, his polo shirt rode up just enough to reveal a furry stomach and a biohazard tattoo! Spying this, Dr. Matthew tried to keep his cool, for he didn’t know if the tat meant Dr. Greene was toxic or on meds. Plenty of his patients immortalize their HIV with a bio-tat, or a scorpion, or a radioactive symbol, but then go on meds. Dr. Greene could be one of those. Settled in the back of the RAV4, Dr. Matthew initiates a chat with his colleague: “So, what did you think of my presentation, Mitch?” “Oh, it was great, Matthew. I really liked the section about guys resisting peer pressure and staying on PrEP for their safety. So much of gay culture and porn has shifted towards gift-giving, we should be advocates for our patients to resist that.” “If that’s what they want,” they both said at the same time, eliciting laughs. “Dr Matthew sensed an opening, and his slight change in tone also perked up Solomon in the drivers’ seat: “What if that’s not what they want, Mitch. How do you deal with that?” “I tell them to get it out of their system. I think you know as well as I do that once the idea of poz gains a foothold in a guy’s mind, it’s almost impossible to stamp out.” “Unless you succumb to it,” added the curious doctor, hoping to elicit agreement. “Oh, I succumbed years ago,’ Dr Greene replied, lifting his shirt and displaying his bio-tat on one side and a scorpion on the other. “I commemorated them here,” pointing to the poz ink. “Nice scorpion, Mitch,” Matthew answered, reaching out and tracing it with his hand. “Does it still sting?” “It never stopped stinging. I’ve been poz 10 years and never any meds. I take good care of myself and I know what to look for if that starts to change. Until then, I’m not inhibiting my gift, as long as so many hot chasers want it…like you, I think. Am I right, Matthew?” With that, Mitch took Matthew’s hand and thrust it in his crotch, Matthew feeling the poz cock as it expanded against the fabric of Mitch’s jeans. Mitch had Matthew’s number, that’s for sure. And Solomon, from the driver’s seat adjusted his rearview mirror and also adjusted the growing poz snake in his pants, unzipping them and freeing it so it can rise to full mast in all its poz glory. “Boys, shall we find a place to exchange some HIV?”, Solomon asked from the front seat. I would love to get one more dirty load into Matthew before the airport. I know a place,” to which Mitch and Matthew just grunted assent, for they were locked in a deep poz-neg kiss with Matthew’s hand down Mitch’s trousers and Mitch reaching for Matthew’s negative hole. A few minutes later, Solomon pulls up to an airport-adjacent motor lodge. “This place is discreet. A lot of guys hold their cumdump sessions here since the motel staff looks the other way,” Parking the car and telling them to stay there, Solomon darts into the motel office and a minute or two later he emerges with a room key – this place hasn’t gotten around to keycards yet. He gets back in a pulls his car around the back. “The clerk is a buddy of mine, very poz…he’s giving us the room for free if we let him breed you, Matthew. I told him you didn’t have a say in the matter…he’ll be over shortly. Solomon opens the dumpy motel room door and Matthew is led over to the bed, Mitch pulling down the young doctor’s trousers and pushing him down hard on the lumpy mattress…Quite a comedown from the 5-star hotel in which Dr. Matthew was staying in downtown Boston, but the poz hunger had taken over inside him and in no time he was presenting his still-neg hole for Mitch’s hard HIV pole. The second doctor drove it deep inside his younger colleague, not stopping when Matthew yelped a bit and bit the pillow. “When you poz up, you’ll understand, Matthew,” the more senior physician told him as he thrust his poz cock deeply in and out of the young doctor’s hole. “You just can’t stop thinking about breeding and gifting and passing it on.” Dr. Mitch railed on Matthew’s neg hole a few more minutes, all the while his copious pre-cum led an HIV advance team on the young doctor’s insides, finally erupting with multiple shots of infected cum deep up the doc’s hole. Not stopping to let Matthew recover a bit, Mitch pulls his dripping member out and high-fives the waiting, jerking Solomon, tag-team style, and in no time at all, the massive AIDS-weapon of the Nigerian Uber driver takes the doctor’s place. Solomon is pile-driving it deep up Matthew’s mancunt, now coated with 10 shots of Mitch’s AIDS and soon to receive a new batch brewing up in Solomon’s heavy, heaving balls that slap against the doctor’s butt with every drive up Dr. Matthew’s pussy. Matthew turns to look back just long enough to see a new man, he supposes it’s the motel clerk, rail-thin, wasted, and jerking his engorged cock, waiting his turn up inside him to penetrate him with more viral jizz. Solomon at last begins to shudder and shake and violently erupts his unmedicated poison up inside Matthew, who feels about 12 spurts of HIV deep in his guts. Solomon, being the pro that he is, and in one motion, flips Matthew on top of him. Now Solomon is on his back on the sleazy motel bed with his pole still buried up Matthew’s ass, gobs of toxic cum oozing from the doctor’s cunt. He motions for the motel clerk to join him in a double-fuck of the young doctor and the dude, about 65 years of age, wastes no time and joins Solomon with his own AIDS-cock up the young doctor’s blown-out pussy. In quick time, they match their strokes, Solomon and the seedy clerk alternating their pistoning as Matthew’s own cock wildly helicopters around, pre-cum flying everywhere. The men inside Matthew both reach their pinnacle, Solomon’s second load announced with a guttural growl and a string of words Matthew doesn’t understand, while the motel clerk just deeply grunts with every spray up Matthew’s ass of his toxic cum. Mitch, watching this scene, and ready with another brew of AIDS-cum for the young doctor, moves in as the motel clerk withdraws and Mitch blows his second load deep inside his young colleague, still also impaled on Solomon’s member. “Hey, guys,” Mitch announces once his dripping pole is back in his pants, “I’ve got a flight to catch,” The three men disengage; the motel clerk having left once he loaded up Matthew. “OK, boys, let’s get you to your planes,” Solomon announces. At the airport, among the falling snowflakes, there was a short yet emotional scene with Matthew and Solomon as the young doctor thanked the Uber driver for loading him up so many times. By his count, he got 8 loads of HIV-riddled cum from Solomon, and 2 more from his professional colleague, infectious disease specialist and disease carrier Dr. Mitchell Greene. And a bonus one from the older, wasting motel clerk. Dr Greene back on his flight to NYC, and Matthew on his to LA, texted a few times, Matthew just expressing his thanks and sharing his poz load count since his chase had begun 3 short months previous. “With you, Solomon and that motel clerk, I’m up to 145 loads, and I’ve never felt more alive or sure about anything!” “Yep, that’s how it gets you, buddy,” Greene wrote back. At your rate, you’ll surely get there…Just glad to be of some help!” Matthew settled in to sleep for the rest of the flight, reclining in his lay-flat seat and soaking up the viral loads from the three men. As he drifted off, he traced his chasing journey all the way back to college listening to Ric and Mateo in the dorm showers. His own journey was taking some time, that much he knew, but also knew he would get there. For up next was the poz father to over 20 men, the infamous member of The Ten, Randy…and Matthew could hardly wait. END OF CHAPTER 5

Thank you for the nice comments. Again sorry for typos and grammar. Enjoy. I took my PEP today on my way to work as usual. It was 11pm. Do I go to the ABS now? Why not? I got dressed. I put on jeans t-shirt and a baseball cap. I drove to the ABS and was familar with the area as this is the part of town where the Professor is planning the field trip. I stayed in the car as I was nervous. What am I doing here? I am really going to let total strangers fuck me? R- If you are nervous and not sure what to do, listen to your body. Crap how did he know. I decided to go in. I walked in and saw the clerk behind the counter. He was an older guy thin about 55 years old. He looked at me. "You 18. I need ID" he asked "Yes" and handed him my college ID I handed him a $20 and he gave me $1. "Have fun" he said smiling It was cold as if the AC was on high. It also had that cleaner sperm smell. I walked through the hallway. I found an empty booth and closed the door. I put in my dollar and the video came on. A girl was getting fucked. She was pretty hot and then she turned over and it was a shemale, and she was hung. Wow, sexy I thought. I went to the menu. There was straight, gay, bi and trans. I paused. Who was I kidding, I clicked gay. The movie came on with a young guy and an older guy who was buff but had a belly and was hairy and he had a beard. As I started to take out my cock someone opened my door. Crap I didn't lock it. I guy came in. He was handsome, early 40's. He pulled out his cock and asked me to suck him off. So I did. As I was sucking him off I noticed a wedding ring. After a few minutes he moaned and tensed and shot cum in my mouth. I quickly swallowed. Once done he pulled out of my mouth zipped up and left. As if the next guy was waiting another guy came in. A little older guy this time and medium build. He pulled out his hard cock which was nice about 7 inches and thick. He told me he wanted to fuck me. "You negative?" he asked "yes" I replied "Good I am neg and I don't want to get anything from you. You sure you are negative a slut like you taking cock in here" he said "Yes I am on PEP and this is my first time here" I said "Ohhh fresh meat. Bend over bitch" he said bending me over and placing his cock at my hole. Then he pushed in. "Ohh fuck your so tight and wet" he said as he started to fuck me. I pushed back onto his cock. He fucked me for a good 10 minutes. It was good better than the dildo but not like Rick. "Here is comes bitch" he yelled as he came in me. After he pulled out he made me clean him off (not that he needed to, I luv it now) and he zipped up and left. One more guy followed him and it was similar except he wore a condom. He said he didnt want to take chances. As he stuck his cock in it rubbed hard against my side. It didnt feel as good as a bare cock. He was a good size too 8 inches and thick too but it felt like a tube rather than a cock in me. I still got horny and when he hit my prostate it felt good but not as good as a bare cock. After 5 minutes he I could feel him spasm and cum. He pulled out took off the condom and gave it to me. "Here you go faggot" he said as he left. It was full of cum so I ate it. My legs were sore so I locked the door and sat back. I rubbed my cock which was semi hard. The I heard someone next door. He stuck his cock through a hole of the wall. It was a good size. "You clean" he asked " Yes" I replied "Suck it then" he said I got on my knees and sucked his cock thru the wall. After about 5 minutes he pulled out of the wall and knocked on my door. He came in and pulled his cock back out of his pants. It was a nice 8" which was difficult to tell thru the hole. I turned around and offered him my ass. "You sure you negative? I dont want to catch anything from a slut like you" he said I told him I was negative and on PEP. Then he started to fuck me. He fucked me, ramming into me. It felt good but it wasn't great like Rick. There was something missing. He finally shot his huge load in me. I cleaned him off with my mouth and he left. Another one with a wedding ring on. I sat back down and then was getting ready to leave. Then someone knocked at the door. I opened it and an old man came in. Early 60's thin but fit. He pulled out his cock. It was a ok size maybe 7" and medium girth. I bent over and he bent down and started to eat my ass. "Ohhhhhh yes" I moaned as I pushed back to his mouth. He ate me for about a minute was it felt so good. He fingered my and felt his fingernail scrape me. I winced but as he ate me I got over it. Then he put his cock at me entrance and slowly entered me. He slowly started to fuck me. He had a really good stroke. It was like he was rubbing my insides and pushing in me. While he wasn't huge the way he fucked me it felt deep. His rhythm and pumping motion was hitting my prostate and inside a certain way. It felt good and was the best of the night. He fucked me good for 10 minutes playing with my nipples. "Fuck your pussy is so tight and wet" he said I moaned "Your a hot little slut. You take a bunch of cum tonight whore? He said pumping into me "Yes" I said moaning and pushing back into him "Yeah you are a nasty dirty slut taking all these loads" he said "Daddys whore arent you" he said I didnt reply. He pulled out of me. "Say it if you want my cock back in you whore" he said "Yes I am Daddy's whore. Please stick your cock back in me" I begged "Yeah what a whore. Fuck your a gorgeous slut. I bet you were popular tonight" he said sticking his cock back in me I moaned and pushed back on him. "Fuck its like your pussy is eating my cock....ohhh damn you feel so good." he kept fucking me and picked up his pace My cock was hard and leaking now. The first time of the night. The way he was fucking me and using me felt so good. Even his smell was hot. He kept up his pace then I felt him tighten up and spasm. My cock was hard and on the verge. He was hitting me in all the right spots. "Here you go bitch, take my POZ load, I am going to knock you up whore" he said. I felt him shoot hot spurt after spurt of his cum. Those words tripped something in my brain and hit me deep. I started to shoot my cum my body spasming from inside. "Ohhh shit your pussy is coming around my cock. Its squeezing my cock bitch" he moaned and started to hard fuck me again. He hard fucked me for another minute. I kept moaning and my cock kept leaking cum from it. As he calmed down he finally pulled out. I immediatlye turned aroudn and dropped to my knees and sucked his cock. I could see and taste a little blood along with my ass juice and cum. "Ohh yeah what a good whore. You've been trained well" he said After cleaning his cock. I stood up and he kissed me deeply. I was shocked but kissed back. "Fuck boy I want to take you home and lock you to my bed and fuck you all day and night" he said smiling "I think you would like that" he said "Oh thank you but no" I said soflty "you sure bitch" he said as he wrapped his hand around my hard cock. I moaned and melted as he stroked me. Then he let go and stuck his fingers in my ass. I moaned even more and started to breath heavily again. "Yeah look at you. Your pussy needs cock. It needs POZ cock. Dont it" he said "I dont know." I repleid "You cum like you just did with any of those other guys you fucked you like a whore tonight" he said I nodded no. "Yeah a boy like you needs POZ cock. You need a real gay poz top man to satisfy you right? Your pussy is grabbing my fingers just from me talking to you" he said My eyes were partially closed as he was massaging my insides it felt so good. The suddenly he pulled his fingers out and into my mouth. I sucked and licked them clean. "You are a good slut. You don't even need to be told." he said "Here is my number if you want to be satisfied and treated like the whore you are" he said passing me a paper with his name and number on it. He tucked in his cock and left. I sat back down stunned, aroused and confused.

Continued... It was Friday and I was working the first shift at the restaurant. Steve was doing his flirtatious act with the staff, lifting his shirt and showing everyone his six pack abs, light treasure trail and just enough of his pants pulled down to let everyone see his pubes. He turned to me with that smirk on his chiseled face; the women and men were fascinated with him, but we both knew where his wicked desires lay. The early shift meant I was off at 10 and he was closing. Not a problem. I pushed out my last order, turned to him and said, “I’m out of here.” I jumped in my car and drove directly to my uncle Hank’s house. I parked my car, walked to the door, rang the bell, and waited for the door to open. As it opened, he was dressed in jeans, boots and a dark shirt with the top three bottoms undone. He invited me in, poured us a drink and said, “Drink up, we’re going to the bathhouse soon.” Blood began to run to my dick. I quickly poured another drink and got ready to go. We arrived at the door to the bathhouse and waited for the man before us to receive his towel, the door buzz, and he enter. My uncle made small talk with the man behind the window, handed him his ID and some cash, the door buzzed and we both entered, were handed towels on the other side of the door. Looking around there were lockers on the first floor with showers. Around the corner was a sauna. We bypassed all that and proceeded up a staircase. Our room was on the second floor. My uncle opened the door and inside the walls were black, there was a double bed and a sling. We quickly stripped and uncle Hank told me to forget the towel. He grabbed the room key and motioned for me to follow him. We exited the room and walked down the hall and at the end was a video room with a few carpeted benches. Two guys were in there stroking, one looked late 20s and the other early 40s. Both were muscular, but looked zoned out. We sat on the bench and as the porn on the screen was playing we began to stroke our cocks. An urge came over me, I dropped to me knees and began to suck my uncle’s now engorged cock. Slowly the room began to fill with men who were now not watching the porn on the movie, but stroking out watching me service my uncle. After putting on a show, and not wanting to cum, he grabbed my head and motioned for us to stand up. We stood and walked out of the room and began to wander the halls. Some of the doors were open with guys looking to invite others in. We stopped by one room with two hot guys fucking. We walked in and the top reached over and closed the door. We stood by the wall as they resumed fucking. The bottom reached for my uncle’s cock. The top pulled out and invited me to begin to fuck the dude. Gladly I positioned myself and slid into the sloppy hole and began to fuck him. The top began to kiss my uncle’s chest and moved his mouth down to begin sucking his cock. There was much more to do so unc motioned for us to go. I pulled out, he pushed the dudes off his cock, we opened the door and walked out. There was another staircase to the third floor so we walked up the stairs, our cocks bouncing as we made our way. Looking around I saw that others began to follow us.

i went to a local gay sauna this evening, i bumped into my boyfriend's younger gay brother. he approached me, and he asked me if my boyfriend was also there in the sauna, i said no i was there without my bf. i was surprised to see him there. he touched my dick and we kissed. and he expressed his desire to be fucked bareback and bred by me. he said he's been wanting to get fucked by me for a long time and i said to him that i can fuck him bareback but it has to be kept secret from my boyfriend (who is also his older top brother). he agreed to that and we went into a cubicle and finally nailed his bareback ass and cummed deep inside him.

**This is a work of fantasy and fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Nothing in this work should be construed as medical advice in any way** Chapter 3: Zero for 135 All during the drive home from Palm Springs, even when traffic slowed to its inevitable crawl once he hit West Covina, Dr. Matthew’s head was spinning…he had taken about 18 certifiable, unmedicated and toxic loads up his hole the day before, including 4 from his mentor, Dr. Dan Martinelli. Were there a few moments when he said to himself “What have you done?” Definitely there were…but then the voice in his head reassured him that this is what he wanted, he got into that sling willingly and his own cock shot multiple loads of cum while the poz guys gang-banged him, and later while Martinelli bred him 4 times with his poz seed. It was his destiny and he didn’t want to deny it any longer. So any doubts in his mind were doused and he knew he was on the right path to becoming part of the brotherhood. As an infection disease doctor, he also knew poz conversion from fucking was still relatively unlikely and it’s highly unusual to turn poz from just one night. Yeah, he would wait for the “fuck flu” to hit in a few weeks but he wasn’t confident it would hit, not yet,anyway – so he wasn’t confident, but was hopeful. No, the only way to ensure his getting over the line and seeing 2 red lines on a test strip was to keep taking poz loads. And he knew just who he should speak to about that. Arriving early at the office on Monday morning, Matthew poured some coffee for himself and waited for Keith to arrive. He had sent a text on Sunday afternoon asking Keith to come in a few minutes early as there was something he wanted to mention to him. “Hey, Doc,” Keith greeted him, breezing in and ready to work as always, his ultra-confident manner and eagerness to start a new work week always impressed his employer, Dr Matthew. Keith was looking especially hot this morning in his tight blue scrubs and with the lower part of his radioactive symbol tattoo peeking out under his sleeve. “How was your weekend, Doctor?” the nurse asked, settling in the chair on the other side of Matthew’s desk and sipping his coffee. “I wanted to tell you something, Keith”, the doctor started hesitantly. “It’s not a work thing, it’s more of a personal thing,” he said, shifting in his chair. Keith could sense the young idealistic Doctor was uncomfortable. “I went to Palm Springs,” he began, “specifically the men’s club over in Cathedral City. I enjoyed myself more than I ever have before, and I took about 18 loads of poz cum, including 4 from Dr. Martinelli.” He had blurted out the words, not stopping to gauge his listener’s reaction or thinking about the appropriateness of telling an employee this information. “Oh, yeah, Dan called me Sunday morning,” Keith said, a sly smile “welcome to the chase!” Dr Matthew looked up with a start. He was surprised that even Keith and Dan Martinelli knew each other, but as he thought about it, he realized ‘of course, they are part of the poz brotherhood that has sprung up.’ “What did he say, specifically?” was all the young doctor could utter as he processed this information. “Just that you’re on the chase now, and he helped you out. He said I should aim to help you as well, if you’d be into that…unless it would be awkward since I work for you.” Still kind of reeling from this info, Dr Matthew simply said “Yeah, it’s probably best we don’t mix work and pleasure like that, Keith. But maybe you can put me in the path of some of your poz buddies who can help me out.” And that is how, two nights later, Dr. Matthew had an “appointment” with a friend of Keith’s, a burly Scottish man named Angus who pozzed up himself about three years ago from Randy, a founding member of The Ten. Angus had just earned his first X tattoo and was looking for more conversions from his potent HIV cum. Angus volunteered to be the dedicated gifter to young Dr. Matthew for 6 weeks, and for those weeks they met two or three times per week, every time Angus loading up the young chasing doctor with high-viral seed. Dr Matthew, being the somewhat obsessive person he was, kept a “pozzing spreadsheet” and by the end of the 6 weeks, it showed Angus has deposited 45 loads of HIV into Matthew’s mancunt. Most of their sessions began the same way: Matthew would prep his hole and come over to Angus’ apartment and assume the doggy position, which Angus favored. Frequently, a toothbrush was used to scratch up Matthew’s pretty little hole and then Angus would unleash his uncut poz weapon inside the young chaser’s ass. It was more clinical than anything romantic but still Matthew’s neg cock would spurt forth a couple of loads of cum as Angus’ thick uncut poz pole plundered the young doctor’s neg mancunt. Angus, like all of The Ten, was a proven poz multi-cummer and one fuck per night simply wouldn’t do, and in a few minutes the burly Scot would be back up the young doctors pussy to inseminate more toxic seed. And it went on like this for those 6 weeks, yet Dr. Matthew still had no signs of the fuck flu he was all too familiar in seeing in others. For all of Angus’s efforts, his strain did not imprint inside Matthew’s body. Matthew figured it would happen, but even after 45 loads of infected Scottish seed, the deed had not been done…in terms of poz results vs poz loads taken, he was now 0 for 63. He admitted to himself a bit of discouragement. Every home test would only display one red line, never two. Angus had to travel to the UK at the end of September, so Keith set Matthew up with a new dedicated donor: Mack, or “Sir Mack,” as his social media accounts proclaimed was a dominant black Daddy type, originally from Trinidad, who had been pozzing chasers in Miami for years now, with a great track record, Sir Mack and his 10-inch pierced pozzing stick had brought over 30 guys into the brotherhood, an effort dedicated with 3 dark X’s inked across his mid-section, as well as a biohazard symbol on each arm and a scorpion with a bloody red stinger emblazoned across his chest. Mack threw a mean fuck into whoever’s hole was in front of him, and as with all members of The Ten, he could cum buckets, and repeatedly in a single pozzing session. Mack had decamped to California for a few weeks to film content…his fan pages were wildly popular, with thousands of guys subscribing to see Mack roughly plow faceless bottoms into poz status. Sir Mack, therefore, eagerly accepted the gig from Keith to poz up the young doctor…he had a particular fixation on infecting medical professionals and turning them into poz cumdumps and gifters. He counted 8 nurses, 3 physical therapists, 4 respiratory therapists, 2 psychologists among his poz progeny, all of whom have further passed the gift to countless others. Now he would get a Medical Doctor, and an HIV specialist at that, to breed and gift into the brotherhood, and he could hardly wait. Keith warned Dr. Matthew that as hot and sexy as Angus was, Sir Mack throws an entirely different fuck into a bottom – Mack is rough and dominant and when he wants to fuck and breed his HIV into someone, nothing stops him. “You’re basically just a hole when you’re in Sir Mack’s vicinity, Doc,” was what Keith told the young HIV chasing doctor. “He threw me around like a ragdoll when we fucked, so brace yourself. You’ll love it, but it’s a wild ride.” As he drove to Sir Mack’s rental house, Matthew was nervous but excited. He would have been happy if Angus had ended up his pozfather, but since that didn’t happen, he was eager for Mack to convert him. Matthew had decided he wanted to know his gifter, the man who would shoot his HIV into his hole and turn the chaser in him into the newest member of the Class of 2025 poz brotherhood. As much as he had liked the Cathedral City gangbang from Frankie and Co., he wanted a deep connection to his gifter, to know the strain that pozzed him. Would it be Sir Mack? His hole twitched in anticipation. He was also expecting a dominant Daddy-type to do to him what Keith described – throw him around like a ragdoll. So, imaging his surprise when Sir Mack opened the door and greeted Matthew with a deep kiss and hug. Whereas Angus would greet Matthew fully naked and hard, ready to AIDS-fuck, Mack greeted him at the door fully clothed and, in fact, wearing an apron, and embraced him deeply followed by a tender kiss. “What was happening,” Matthew thought to himself? “I thought I’d make you some dinner, since you’ll be here awhile,” Mack explained, walking into the kitchen and stirring a large pot bubbling on the stove. “Of course, we’ll eat after we take care of business,” Mack said, turning back to Matthew and smiling a 1000-watt smile at him. “There’s some wine there,” he said, pointing to an opened bottle of red. “Help yourself.” “You look a little stunned, Matthew,?” Mack asked. “It’s just that I think I expected a different sort of welcome,” the young doctor replied, “I had heard you would be very rough.” Mack chuckled “Oh, that’s just my fan content stuff…gotta maintain the stereotype. When you look like me, guys expect a certain scene. Did Keith tell you that? Yeah, I fucked Keith a few times on the fan page…that was ‘content,’ this is different. This is more real, just you and me. If I’m gonna be your poz Daddy, I think we need to establish more of a connection, don’t you?” Matthew was relieved to hear this and his hole twitched some more. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get those clothes off and get into bed,” Mack told the young doctor “I’ll be up in a minute,” he said, switching off the stove burner and moving the pot into the oven. Matthew did as instructed, got into bed and was fingering his twitching hole, his cock expanding as he heard Mack’s footsteps on the stairs. “Leave your hole to me,” Mack said, seeing Matthew fingering it. And with that, Mack gently turned Matthew onto his stomach, hiked up his legs and ass and ate out the young doctor’s negative pussy for about 10 minutes. Matthew was in ecstasy at this – Angus almost never rimmed him, or for very long, and Mack’s caring treatment of Matthew’s hole had him so relaxed and open, like no one had ever done prior. “You’re ready,” Mack finally announced and Matthew felt the first of Mack’s 10 thick inches penetrate his waiting cunt. “Little bit at first, I have wanted in this pussy for a long time, I want to take my time right now,” Mack told him as Matthew braced himself for the remainder of the pierced HIV club Mack was pressing into him. At Mack’s command, he breathed deeply and Mack used that to slide the rest of the fat AIDS-cock into the young, impressionable doctor. He was in up to the hilt now. Typical of all The Ten, Mack’s cock was precumming like crazy, already spreading his HIV into the young doctor. Slowly, Mack began to piston it in and out of the hole, Matthew writhing in pleasure and moaning into the pillow. Mack took his left arm and brought the young doctor up close to him…”Feel that cock in there, Matthew? It’s bringing you right into the poz brotherhood,” he said repeatedly as he picked up his pace and soon was plunging the poz weapon deep inside the young physician. This went on for awhile, longer than Frankie, or Dr. Martinelli or Angus ever lasted up inside Matthew’s neg mancunt, but Mack was having too much fun and pleasure to want to stop now and the deep drilling continued for another 15 minutes without a break, the young doctor squirming and moaning in pleasure. Finally, the moment came for Mack to impregnate Matthew with this viral load and as usual with Mack, it was a gusher – Matthew, in his daze, could feel 11 or 12 shots of pure venom unloaded into him from the powerful Trinidadian Daddy, but honestly it could have been more than that, he was in such bliss knowing this titan of a man was loading him up with pure poz seed. Mack shuddered and thrust his cock deeper, as if to get every drop of HIV into the young doctor and then finally withdrew and rolled Matthew over onto his back and beside him. “We’ll go again in a few minutes,” he said “You know, I’m good for at least 3 more loads, and you’ll be getting them, and then we can eat,” he said, passing Matthew a glass of water. “Stay hydrated and hold that seed in your hole, Doctor. I’ll be adding more shortly.” The process went on for another 3 hours, as Mack would deeply rim the gaping hole, tasting some of his own AIDS-cum and bringing it up to Matthew to sample as well. Then, more deep and prolonged fucking and loading up the doctor’s hole, which by the fourth plundering of the evening, was blown out into an O shape, HIV-cum clinging to the walls. Mack thrust a lucite dildo up into the hole and told Matthew to keep it there. They finally went down to eat and drink some more wine, Matthew was spinning out in his head at the thought of Mack’s potent seed already possibly doing it’s work on his body, penetrating its defenses and converting the chaser into a successful poz brother. And this was what happened every few nights for the entirety of the 6 weeks that Mack was staying in Los Angeles. By Matthew’s spreadsheet, he had received 72 loads of Mack’s AIDS-seed, so imagine the disappointment at every home test showing only the one line of negativity and not the two red lines of beautiful HIV positivity. Eventually, Mack’s short-term lease was up – in addition to his working to poz Matthew, he had filmed dozens of hard-driving fuck scenes with scores of guys for his content pages, so it was finally time for him to return home to Miami. There was an emotional scene at the LAX departures lobby as Matthew wept softly into Sir Mack’s broad shoulders at not converting by him, but Mack reassured the young doctor. “Do not worry, son, it will happen, and when it does we will celebrate,” and with that, he was through security and out of sight in the crush of the airport. Matthew pulled out his phone to look at the spreadsheet…by Matthew’s calculations, this meant 135 loads of cum, from the gangbang in Cathedral City, from his mentor Dr. Martinelli, from Angus and now from Sir Mack had failed to upgrade Dr. Matthew into the poz brotherhood. Class of 2025 might have to wait until Class of 2026! He knew what he had to do: He dialed Keith’s number. End of Chapter 3

No preference for me. I suck cock and eat cum. Doesn't matter to me what race he is. A few years ago I put an ad online that I was hosting to give NSA head at a hotel I was staying at. That night I sucked off a Latino guy, an Asian guy and a white guy dressed in drag. They all had the same things in common...they had a hard cock that needed sucked and fed me a yummy load of cum as my reward for doing a good job. That is all that matters to me. The thing is, I am a dedicated gloryhole cocksucker. I love giving anon head through a gloryhole. When you suck gloryhole cock you don't ask questions. Race doesn't matter. Age doesn't matter. Looks doesn't matter. Politics doesn't matter. Sexual orientation doesn't matter. That hard cock matters.

69 ff is so hot and feels amazing I love it so much

Glory holes no longer exist in New York so you would need a time machine that goes back way further than @aol.com e-mail.

My fantasy, getting stretched enough to take a foot.

Yes Sir. It is what we crave!

Amazing!

173cm 60kg 26yo

Cum boogers 💧

Sadly it's the end of an era with actual cinemas, probably killed by apps and online porn. Most of the current options near me that use the word "cinema" are just rooms with a big screen (often CRT!) TV and chairs they seemingly scavenged from a wedding planner. I was lucky enough about 15ish years ago to be in Toledo OH for a work conference and "discover" the Westwood Theater, a 1920s cinema that showed porn on the big screen with the original red velvety seats intact. I was probably the youngest guy there, and dressed like a slut, which seemed to attract a lot of attention. The regulars there on that day knew the routine: after the staff guy did his rounds they'd have about an hour of debauchery before he came back, threatened to throw you onto the street and call the police if he saw anyone playing. (I still don't understand that, the activity was obvious, maybe it was some weird Ohio law? I'd love an answer if anyone knows). Anyhow, after he (loudly) walked through, I was taken to the front of the theater, stripped, and spit roasted by numerous guys in front of the screen. Still one of my best cruising experiences! I heard it closed shortly after, but the memories are with me forever.

Sorry for late response, When you walked in going down towards the front, they were 2 one on the left and one on the right, about 3/4 quarters of the way down. The one on the left was more busier for some reason, not sure what the rooms were for in their day, but it dark, no light and very hot to be groped, felted up, suck and fuck. I was fucked in there many times... I think I do remember him, never really got the chance to try his cock though...

The Fair Theater is the granddaddy of New York City porn cinemas. Just last week there was a young white twink dotting around in a G-string and tank top in 9 degree weather with 10 inches of snow. Trecherous. I said to myself "girlfriend, you better work!"

(continued) Spent, holes well used, I watched as the black bodybuilder walked to the dungeon exit, followed by the chiseled blond thirty-something, then the dark haired man with tattoos, then the 18 year old wrestler.. I quickly followed with my uncle bringing up the rear. We walked up the stairs into the living room and without a word, they all put their cloths on and exited the house leaving only me and my uncle. After he went into his bedroom I quickly passed out on the couch. Waking up about an hour later, still naked, I walked into his room. He was asleep on top of the bed with a raging hardon. I leaned down and took it in my mouth and began to suck the stale cum that was still coated on his huge rod. He rolled over, placed his hands on the back of my head and began to work my throat. Still in a fog, his giant tool passed the back of my mouth and opened my throat. All of a sudden he thrust up, groaned and shot another load. The taste and smell of his warm cum was all I needed and I collapsed into the bed, it was now about 5 a.m. I awoke about 8 a.m., put on my cloths and went home. A few days later after work the wrestler and I stopped by the house. My uncle opened the door and invited us in. He poured us some whiskey and asked if we wanted to watch some porn. We grinned and said, absolutely. He turned on the TV and as the video came on it was us in the dungeon the other night. The cameras had caught everything from different angles and the film was edited. I could see the workout Steve had taken, his young hard body matching every bit of the other men. I watched as I was getting my hole destroyed, my ass beginning to tingle as I watched. Steve turned and said that he had been checking out the other wrestlers in the communal showers at school after practice and noted that some of the guys were very hung – if only they could be coerced into joining. With only a little time that night, we all jerked off into one of the whiskey glasses and I had the pleasure of drinking down all the cum mixed together. I then took my finger and ran it around the inside of the glass, not wanting to leave a trace of the elixir. The TV was turned off and we headed for the door. As I left I said, “we need to make another video.” My uncle responded, “before that, you and I are going to the bathhouse.” I quickly said, “fuck yeah”.

Chapter 22: Darkness on the Edge of Town City Streets. 21:02 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. Elias drove like a madman through the city to reach St. Barton’s cemetery. As he did so, his mind was racing, flooded with images of smilers and Tex and his squadmates, and theories about what might be going on. He imagined a multitude of awful scenarios of events that had no basis in fact, and were only the conjurings of a panicked mind. “He’ll be fine, and stop thinking of the worst,” Elias kept telling himself as he drove. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Finally, the large iron gate that fronted the cemetery came into view, and Elias felt like time was slowing down as he approached it. Parking the car in a convenient accessible spot, he turned off its engine, and practically leapt from the car. Tex was already coming toward him from the gate, looking shaken but otherwise normal. Elias took a mental sigh of relief as he saw that his friend was unharmed and had not become a smiler. “Thank fuck you’re here, Eli,” Tex said gratefully. “Are you hurt?” Elias asked quickly. “No, the thing didn’t touch me at all.” “Good. I don’t want to see you get hurt, too. Tell me what happened.” Tex recounted the bizarre sequence of events: Dr. Grant’s odd behavior, the discovery of Pixel’s data drive, the encounter at the cemetery, and the abrupt abduction that left Tex with no real answers. As he spoke, Elias kept getting flashes of things that he took to be the product of an overactive imagination – one involved a nightclub. Another was a convenience store. And a third showed him something involving an EMT crew. The images would flash across his brain for only an instant, leaving him with echoes that he couldn’t understand. As they poured in, Elias kept forgetting to listen to Tex’s story, but Tex didn’t seem to notice that he didn’t have his friend’s full attention. Elias put his cold hand to his forehead as if a headache was coming on. Tex took the gesture to mean that Elias was processing all his details. “What are we going to do?” Tex finally asked. Elias shook off the last of the strange visions. “Do you have your gun?” “In the glove compartment.” Elias pulled his jacket open to one side to show his own weapon. “We’re going to stop them. There’s… been a new development.” Tex blinked once, and his face went slightly slack. “Aw, hell, what now?” Whatever the news was, it was going to be bad. “I heard the voice again right before you called. Whoever is leading the smilers has started mobilizing them. If they’re not stopped tonight, the whole city could be overrun with smilers by morning!” “Shit. Then we better get going.” Tex and Elias started moving toward Elias’s car. “But where are they going? Do you know their plans?” Elias inhaled sharply before speaking. “I have some ideas. Been getting glimpses of what they’re doing. Most of it seems to center around downtown and the warehouse district. I’m going to start with downtown, see if I come across any of them.” “I’ll come, too.” “No, I think we ought to split up,” Elias objected. “Covers more ground that way. You can at least warn people if one of them shows up. You know what to look for, but civilians don’t.” Tex weighed this, and nodded his head, though he wasn’t sure about the idea of separating again. “All right. That’s probably better. The more lives we can protect, the better. My car’s over there.” Tex pointed in the direction of his earlier parking. “Great. Call me if you discover anything.” Elias hesitated before re-entering his vehicle, and turned back to look Tex square in the eye. “Even if it’s one of our team, don’t hesitate to shoot him.” “Shoot to kill?” “Only if you absolutely must. We’re soldiers. We know what we sign up for. But self-preservation takes priority. Trevor would kill me if something happened to you.” He embraced his friend, aware that it might be the last time they see each other. Tex accepted the gesture, and said nothing. When the embrace was broken, Elias heard the voice again. He’s vulnerable. You’re alone. Breed him now! It would be so easy. Just tell yourself it’s your husband. Elias felt his manhood stir as he gazed on his friend. Nervous butterflies welled up in his gut as the sexual tension cried out for release. Elias felt a growl of lust grow in his chest. You can do it. It’s your mission, soldier! A small pool of saliva caught in Elias’s throat. He could just spit it out on Tex’s face, and start the mating process, and this would all be over for both of them. One little slip. Just open your mouth, and let him have it. It would not be your first time infecting. Elias prepared the slightly grey ball of slime for ejection, and in an impressive act of self-control, he spat it to one side, missing Tex completely. Tex looked at him with surprise and curiosity. “Smiler spit?” Tex enquired, already knowing his friend was near the precepice. “Plehh. Yeah. It’s gross. It’s like a sinus infection.” Tex recognized that as his cue to disappear before Elias lost all control. “I… uh… I’m just going to go now. Be safe, pardner.” With that, Tex turned and hurriedly rushed back to his own vehicle. His feet couldn’t get him there fast enough. A sudden flash in Elias’s brain had him staggering weakly, and without a doubt he knew exactly where he needed to go next. He could feel it: Zero begging, pleading not to be forced to go through with his attack as he could feel Zero’s jaws clamp down onto someone’s shoulder. Zero. Zero was a weak link in the chain. And he needed to act fast if he wanted to keep it that way. —----- Alleyway, Warehouse District. 21:22 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. The music was the last sane thing he could hear. The heavy, pounding bass from the nightclub pulsed through the alleyway like a heartbeat — steady, human, normal. A reminder of life. Of people. Of safety. Mason clung to it mentally even as his body dragged the man—Matt, they’d called him Matt—farther and farther away. His nails dug into Matt’s wrist, grip iron-tight, muscles moving without permission. The stranger stumbled behind him, weak and shuddering from the infection-slime already working its way beneath his skin. No, no, no—stop—stop making me move him—stop making me hurt him— But Zero moved anyway. Each step carried him deeper into the alley, past dumpsters and rusted fire escapes, until the glow of neon faded and the thumping bass softened into a distant echo, then into silence. Concrete walls boxed them in. Night air sank cold teeth into his overheated skin. Shadows stretched long over the pavement. Zero stopped walking only when the music was completely gone. When the world was quiet enough for him to hear the sound inside his own skull. That awful, suffocating command. A pressure like an invisible fist tightening around the softest parts of his mind. Obey, Zero. The Alpha. The voice slid into him like hot wire, coiling around every nerve, every thought. Zero — Mason — gritted his teeth, body jerking as he attempted to resist. His spine arched involuntarily, muscles spasming, breath coming out in hitched bursts. He felt tears sting his eyes, not because of pain—even though the pain was unbearable—but because of the helplessness. “I don’t want this,” he whispered inside his own mind, the words barely forming through the static. “I don’t want to do this to him. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” His brain pulsed in response — a psychic blow that made the edges of his vision blur. You exist to spread me. Use the gifts I have given you and follow my wishes willingly. Or I will make you hurt. The Alpha’s voice was a roar, but also a whisper under his skin. Mocking. Commanding. Triumphant. Zero clenched his jaw, fighting to stay himself. Fighting to remember anything that wasn’t this haze, this fire, this crawling pressure under his skull. Just breathe. Remember something else. Anything else— A flash. White lights. Sterile hallways. The cold metal of an examination table against his spine. Krell’s voice thanking him for his “service” as the infection needle slid beneath his skin. Another flash. Blood on the ground near the back of an ambulance. The horrified gasp of an EMT. The man’s face — young, terrified — as Zero’s body lunged without warning. Zero felt nausea twist through him. God. No. No, I hurt him. I hurt him— He remembered the bite. The taste of copper. The sickening slicing of skin giving way. But he also remembered—dimly, desperately trying to hold onto the thought—that he had angled himself away from the EMT’s throat at the very last second. Using whatever remnants of control he had to avoid the major vessels. Avoid killing him. Please be okay, he begged silently. Please. His shoulders shook. Matt groaned faintly behind him, the man’s legs barely holding him upright. Zero turned to look at him — and for a moment, Mason surged up in his own body, horrified at what he saw. The bite marks on Matt’s shoulder were already darkening. The edges pulsed faintly as the infection spread. The man’s breath came in soft, broken whimpers, half-conscious, helpless. Zero reached out, trembling, wanting to support him, to keep him from falling— But the Alpha shoved his thoughts aside like sweeping dust. He is yours. Complete it. Add him to our ranks. Zero’s knees buckled. He collapsed halfway, catching himself on one hand, the other still locked around Matt’s wrist. His head dropped, hair falling into his face, breath shuddering through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to,” he whispered internally, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be this.” The Alpha’s laughter pulsed like a migraine. Your desires are irrelevant. You were made to obey. Krell may have done it wrong, but you are mine regardless. A choking sound tore from Mason’s throat. His mind throbbed, vision going white at the edges as the Alpha tightened its psychic grip. Matt sagged against him, weak and pliant. Zero caught him reflexively—and hated himself for how instinctual the movement felt. For how natural the Alpha made all of this seem. “N-not him,” Mason begged inside his head. “Please—anyone but him—” The Alpha ignored the words. Ignored the tears. Ignored the humanity. The pressure increased. Zero’s back arched sharply. He slapped a palm against the concrete wall to stay upright. Matt slid partially down, barely conscious. Finish it. Make him ours, Zero. NOW. Zero bit down on a sob, trying desperately to anchor himself to anything that was his. His name. His memories. His reason. Mason Hawke. Mason Hawke. I’m Mason Hawke— But the Alpha crushed the thought instantly, like grinding glass under its heel. His body twitched violently. Matt stirred weakly, reaching out a trembling hand toward Zero, eyes unfocused. That single human gesture — instinctive, reaching for help — nearly shattered Mason. No. Please. Don’t touch me. I can’t stop myself. Please. Please… run… But Matt couldn’t run. And Zero couldn’t stop. And the Alpha whispered triumphantly in the bleeding ruin of his mind. The alleyway felt like it existed outside of time. Once the club’s pulsing bass faded into nothing, the darkness pressed in around them, thicker and more suffocating with every passing second. Mason could still sense the faint echo of neon lights flickering somewhere behind him, but here, in this deeper pocket of shadow, the world narrowed to only two things: the burning in his veins and the limp, fever-warm weight of Matt’s body against his own. Matt clung to him without strength, his fingers curling weakly in the torn front of Zero’s suit. His breath came in shallow, trembling bursts, and the infection was already beginning to twist his reactions — making him seek contact, heat, anything to ease the overwhelming internal wildfire consuming him. When Matt lifted his head to look at him, his eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide. He wasn’t fully conscious, but he wasn’t unconscious either; caught in some agonizing, feverish middle ground. “Please…” Matt whispered, the word slipping out of him like a breath he hadn’t meant to release. His voice was slurred, desperate, soft in a way that made Mason’s chest ache. “Don’t… don’t go… feels too hot… I need something… I need you in me…” Zero froze, but the Alpha didn’t hesitate. A psychic pressure tightened inside his skull with an almost physical force, urging him to act, pushing him forward like a marionette pulled by invisible strings. Mason tried to force his muscles to still, to create space between their bodies, but the Alpha’s command overrode him instantly, sending a tremor down his spine and compelling his hands to settle on Matt’s hips, pulling him closer. Inside, Mason recoiled. He begged. He pleaded. He told the Alpha that Matt wasn’t choosing this — that he wasn’t thinking clearly, that he was infected and fever-delirious. But the Alpha dismissed every thought with cold indifference, focusing only on the primal need to spread itself further. A voice that felt like hot wire wound tight around Mason’s mind repeated its command with delight in his helplessness. In his arms, Matt trembled, his body arching subtly toward the contact. “Please,” he murmured again, more breath than voice, “I’m burning…” Mason felt his throat close. He didn’t want this. Not like this. Not with someone who wasn’t in their right mind — someone he was supposed to protect, not violate. But his hands kept moving, numb and mechanical, as if detached from him entirely. The Alpha’s mental grip tightened, squeezing out any resistance he tried to muster, forcing him to prepare Matt in the way the infection demanded. His fingers shook as he touched the waistband of the torn spandex suit, and when Matt shuddered in response, the Alpha pulsed a note of satisfaction through his mind. Tears blurred Mason’s vision before he realized he was crying. He pressed his forehead to Matt’s shoulder, trying to find some part of himself that would still listen to reason, some part that hadn’t been drowned out by the infection’s influence. Matt sagged against him, barely able to support his own weight, his breath hitching in small, pained gasps that made Mason’s heart twist further. He whispered internally to the man in his arms — apologies, pleas, promises he couldn’t keep — anything to feel like he wasn’t completely gone. But the Alpha continued pushing, relentless and cruel, punishing any attempt to stop or slow down with spikes of searing psychic pain. Mason’s grip tightened involuntarily as the Alpha forced his next movement. Zero’s head dipped down, almost in shame and guilt as he slowly began to pull Matt’s black spandex pants down over his ass, watching as he seemed to arch into his touch. With one smooth motion, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard and throbbing cock, and quickly spit in Matt’s face, watching as he seemed to relax more. “At least it won’t hurt for you like it did me.” Zero whispered to himself, swallowing thickly as he gently rubbed the man’s back. He pulled Matt’s hips to his own and in one hard motion, breeched his ass and methodically began to fuck him, feeling as his cock began to leak inside the warm tight confines of the man’s ass. Refusing to focus on the feeling around his cock, the pleasured murmur in his mind from the Alpha, the way his balls seemed to ache with the need for release into the now-willing flesh underneath him. He tried desperately to ignore how Matt groaned and sighed, sounding like his world was now complete with the monster Mason had become claiming his body for infection. His awareness seemed to fracture as he went through the motions. His consciousness receded into a tight, shaking corner inside himself while his body acted on a script he never would have chosen. He sobbed openly now, forehead pressed against Matt’s fever-hot skin, each breath a tremor. He felt the Alpha surge again, a dark wave of triumph as it sensed completion approaching. “Please…” Mason begged inside his own mind, though he had no idea who he was speaking to anymore. “Someone… stop me… please…” And then something shifted in the air. A faint sensation, like weight displaced. Like a presence intruding. Mason felt it before he heard it — a crackling tension brushing against the edges of his awareness. A voice followed, sharp and familiar, cutting through the haze like a blade. “ZERO! STEP AWAY FROM HIM.” Zero jerked violently, his entire body recoiling even before he registered the source. He lifted his head, tears streaming down his face, and saw a silhouette framed at the mouth of the alley — tall, steady, gun raised with unwavering certainty. Elias Kade. Reaper. Aiming a gun with tense hands squarely at him. Recognition hit Mason with brutal force. Relief, shame, longing, panic — all tangled inside him like barbed wire. His lips parted, and a broken, grateful sound escaped him before he could stop it. “E… Elias…” Saying the name felt like touching a live wire. The Alpha erupted inside him, enraged by the defiance, slamming agony through his skull so violently he nearly collapsed. His fingers spasmed, finally releasing Matt completely, letting the man slump onto the ground beside him. Mason fell with him, clutching his head, trembling uncontrollably as the Alpha punished him. Elias stepped closer, voice no longer sharp but cautious, steady, coaxing him back from the brink. “Zero… look at me. Stay with me. Let go of him and just listen to the sound of my voice.” Mason curled inward, shaking, unable to stop the sobs tearing from him. He could barely hear Elias over the Alpha’s violent screaming in his mind. Until the voice changed. Softened. Shifted into something only one person ever said to him. “…Mason. Please. I know you don’t want to do this.” The world stilled. Something inside Zero cracked wide open. With a desperate, guttural breath, he dragged himself toward the sound he’d been aching for, the tether he needed more than air. He surged forward, collapsing into Elias’s arms with the last of his strength, burying his face against the man’s chest as the Alpha reeled in fury. Elias caught him without hesitation, arms tight, grounding him in a way nothing else could. The moment Zero collapsed against Elias, the Alpha screamed. It wasn’t sound — not in the physical sense. It was a pressure, a violent psychic wail that clawed at the inside of Mason’s skull, trying to wrench control back, furious at his act of rebellion. His body convulsed, muscles tightening in jerks as if someone had jammed live wires beneath his skin. Elias tightened his hold, grounding him with steady strength. “Zero—Mason—look at me. We have to move. Now. The cops will be here any second and they’ll call the paramedics to help him. He’ll be okay.” Mason nodded weakly, forehead still pressed against Elias’s shoulder, his clawed fingers clutching the fabric of Elias’s coat like a lifeline. He knew the Alpha was only seconds away from forcing his body to lash out. He could already feel the twitch in his limbs — the subtle beginning of a command he didn’t want to obey. To attack his friend and incapacitate him. “I’ll go,” Mason rasped. “Just… don’t let go. Please don’t let go.” Elias swallowed hard, something flickering in his expression, and eased Mason upright. He kept one arm around him, the other raised with the gun firmly trained on Zero’s center mass. He moved with the caution of someone approaching a bomb with a loose wire. And Mason didn’t blame him. He welcomed it. “Good,” Mason whispered, voice raw. “K-keep it pointed at me. If I change—if I snap—just do it.” “Don’t say that.” Elias’s voice was low but firm, strained by something deeper than fear. “Just keep talking to me. Stay here. Stay present.” Together they staggered out of the alley, Elias supporting most of Zero’s weight even as he kept the gun steady. Behind them, distant shouts echoed — security guards, club staff, frightened partygoers calling for help — but Elias guided them in the opposite direction, slipping into narrower, darker streets where no one would follow. Mason’s breath hitched as the Alpha hissed again inside his skull. Traitor. You will pay for denying me! For siding with that abomination! A spike of pain shot down his spine, forcing him to double over. Elias caught him, steadying him before he could collapse. Zero clung to him on instinct, fingers curling into Elias’s coat as another tremor ran through his body. “Easy,” Elias murmured, his voice rough with controlled urgency. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” “You don’t,” Mason whispered, shaking as he forced the words out. “He—It—The Alpha—he wants me to attack you. He’s screaming at me to turn around. Every time you touch me he gets louder.” Elias adjusted his grip, pulling Mason closer against his side as they hurried down another block. “Then hold onto me harder,” he said quietly. “If it keeps him out of your head, just do it.” Mason nodded and did just that. He pressed so close to Elias that their steps synced, his breath trembling against the collar of Elias’s jacket. And strangely — impossibly — the Alpha recoiled. The psychic pressure didn’t fade, but it shifted, disoriented, like the proximity to Elias disrupted its signal. “Eli…” Mason choked, voice barely audible. “Stay close. Please. It confuses him. It hurts him.” “Then I’m not going anywhere.” Another wave of agony hit Zero’s mind. This time he groaned aloud, pulling away just enough to brace himself against a brick wall. Elias’s gun tracked every movement, barrel unwavering, eyes sharp and pained at once. “Talk to me,” Elias commanded. “Stay with me, Mason. Don’t let him pull you under.” Zero shook with effort, using the wall to keep himself upright. “He’s telling me to bring you to him. To knock you out so he can bring you to his side. Over and over. He’s angry I didn’t finish—finish what he wanted with the man. He says you’re next. He says he’ll take my body and use it to—” His voice cracked. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Elias stepped closer slowly, the gun still up but his free hand hovering near Mason’s shoulder. “You won’t,” he said, though his voice trembled with the weight of uncertainty. “I trust you more than he does.” Mason huffed out a pained, broken laugh. “You shouldn’t.” “I should. And I do.” Another twitch rippled through Mason’s arm — a sharp jerk toward Elias. The Alpha testing its control. Zero sucked in a breath, slammed his fist into the wall to stop the motion, and cried out as pain radiated through his knuckles. “Keep it pointed at me,” he gasped. “If he takes over, don’t hesitate.” Elias’s jaw tightened, but he nodded once. “Understood.” They moved again, hurrying down the block. Mason leaned into Elias — clinging to him, using him as an anchor, as a shield, as the only thing that kept the Alpha from seizing his limbs completely. He could feel the Alpha pushing, stuttering, writhing in confusion each time Elias steadied him. It was almost like Elias’s presence created interference — like he was the only signal strong enough to weaken the Alpha’s hold. Finally, Elias slowed. “We’re almost there,” he said, breath visible in the cool air and looked back down the alley way at the crumpled form on the ground. Flashlights were now shining on it as indecipherable yells echoed across the buildings. “The car’s on the next street. The police found him and will get him to the hospital.” Mason nodded, trembling violently, sweat cold on his forehead. Every step felt like walking on a knife’s edge — one wrong move and the Alpha would shove him into a violent lunge. Elias must have known that, too, because he kept the gun raised until they reached a nondescript black sedan parked under a flickering streetlight. He opened the back door one-handed and guided Mason inside before sliding in right next to him. The gun never left his hand. He kept it trained on Mason even as the car door shut with a muffled thud. Mason collapsed sideways, pressing his forehead against Elias’s shoulder again, breath ragged. “Don’t stop pointing it at me,” he whispered. “Not until I say.” Elias swallowed, then nodded, adjusting his grip on the weapon. His other hand hovered a few inches away, hesitant but ready to steady Mason again if he faltered. Zero curled in closer, shaking uncontrollably. “I’m trying,” he whispered. “I’m trying so hard to stay myself.” “And I’m right here,” Elias said softly. “As long as you hold onto me, he doesn’t get to win.” Mason closed his eyes, clinging to the warmth of Elias’s presence like a dying man holding on to the last light he could still see.

They say, "it's a small world," but when it's a brotherhood, the connections/contacts among poz men resemble a spider's web, and so Dr. Matthew is forever connected to his mentor and his poz buddies. The probability of Matthew converting from one or more of the 18 loads he took in this chapter is very high and is quite fitting for him and his future (Matthew will have a ready-made supportive friend group to help him adjust to living as a poz guy and likely gifting chasers his toxic cum.) Matthew finally realized (like most chasers) that the desire to become poz doesn't fade or go away. In fact, time only increases the need to achieve the poz/toxic status and begin to breed those seeking HIV. Dr. Dan alludes to this fact when he says, "He has never been happier." since he started gifting men his strain. Undoubtedly, Matthew's approach with his patients will be different. No longer will he advise them on meds right away. He might even offer his ass to patients to deposit their toxic cum into. So many pozzibilities for Matthew to become known as Dr. Poz Pig! Thanks, @Van2man!

I think they should have just big enough holes to fit their hands through the holes to hold us up against the wall by the hips😵