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I went back to my bedroom to get dressed. As it was the end of the week I only had two pairs of shorts to wear. One was cargo shorts and another were my short running shorts. They were 3" shorts so they showed my legs and were a little tight on the ass. I knew I should wear the cargo shorts as they were more appropriate but I didnt care. Something made me want to wear the short running shorts for Professor Post. I got to work early before 7:30am. I walked in and thought the office was empty. "Nice shorts. I like them very much" I heard a voice and turned around. It was Professor Post. "Oh thank you. Sorry you startled me. I thought I was the only one here" I said "Sorry I scared you." he said walking over and putting both hands on my shoulders trying to calm me. He was standing about 8 inches away. I could smell his manly scent as he biked in and again was in his tight speedo biking shorts that were sporting a huge hard on. He saw me glance. "If you want you can touch it, I am ok with that. Anytime you want to." he said soothing I could feel me cock get hard. "Thank you but I am fine" I replied "Are you sure? Your cock is telling me otherwise" he said looking down at my crotch. Because my shorts were so short, my cock was pushing straight out. "Oh sorry" I said blushing "Don't apologize, its fine. We need to listen to our bodies and enjoy life's pleasures" he said I heard someone with the office key try to get in and I quickly stepped back and walked to my desk and sat down. Professor Post went back to his office. I had a meeting with Professor Post and 2 other department employees at 8am, one a student like me and another full time person. The student was named Lisa. She was one year older than me and pretty hot. She flirted on occasion even though she knew I had a gf. She would wear some pretty tight yoga pants to work or short dresses and flirt with me. One day her yoga pants were so tight she was showing camel toe. She told me she didn't like to wear panties when wearing yoga pants. It was the same day Jane visited me at work and sneered at her. And then yelled at me that night saying she was slut. We sat a table in the conference room. Lisa sat across from me, Professor next to me and the other employee next to Lisa. We went over things for an upcoming field trip a warehouse and older part of town. The Professor wanted students to tour the area and get a feel for this gritty part of town as part of a semester paper on dilapidated and underserved urban areas. He said there was also home to the gay community. We began planning and suddenly felt someone's foot playing with mine. It was Lisa. She was flirting with me under the table. I moved my foot away from her foot. I thought it was over. Then I felt her foot on my cock. WTH was she doing. She just wrote down notes like nothing was happening. My cock got a little hard from her rubbing. I tried to adjust and push in my chair so the Professor wouldn't notice. The Professor asked her for some information that was at her desk. She put back on here flats and went to her desk. The other employee left for a phone call. Professor Post leaned over and put his hand on my thigh, " You ok" he said "Yes why" I replied "Looks like someone was playing footsies under the table. I am not blind" he said pushign out my chair. My cock was turgid and there was a wet spot. "She really likes you. She's been flirting for a while now. It's okay if you like her. " he said "I don't" I replied looking back at him eye to eye. "Ok good" the Professor said. He stood up, again his crotch in my face and shifted his cock right in front of me before leaving the conference room. My cock was rock hard now. I got my stuff and left and went back to my desk hiding my cock. Lisa stopped by we chatted and then she left. I went to my classes and finished early. I decided to go to the health clinic on campus to get checked on. I checked in at the clinic and filled out the form and why I was there. I waited in the lobby until they called my name. I sat there thinking about the last week or so. How my life has changed so much. New city, new place to live, new job, new friends and new sexual experiences. "Dan" someone called I stood up and walked to the back of the clinic to the person who called my name. "You Dan?" the guy asked " Yes" I replied "Right this way" he said He led me into a room and then closed the door. "Have a seat" he said As he walked from the door to me, he was an older guy maybe mid 40's. About 5'10 average size, slightly muscular. He had a buzz cut and an earring and a beard and moustach. He was kind of handsome. I sat on a chair next to his table facing him and he sat down facing me diagonally. " Hi my name is Rob. I am the STD counselor and nurse here at the clinic" he said "Nice to meet you I am Dan." I replied. "So I read your form, tell me why you are here" he said "I had sex with someone who has HIV and wanted to get tested and on maybe get on PEP" I replied "Okay" he said slowly "Let's first get through a bit of how you got here and talk about that. That ok" He asked "Sure" I said "So how did you meet this person and have sex. When did you find out she had HIV" he asked "Uhh, I had sex with a guy" I said shyly "Oh, sorry. On your form you said you were straight" he replied "Yes I am and have a gf but I had sex with a guy" I replied "So your bisexual?" he said smiling "I don't know. Maybe?" I replied questioning him. "Ok so tell me a little about what happened." he said in a clinical tone I told him how we had started making out and he started fingering me and then ate me out. I could see his facial expressions changed and were very interested. "I take it this was your first time like that with another man", he asked "Yes. I had never had anyone lick me down there and finger me like that. He played with me before but not like that" I said "He played with you before? So this isnt the first time you had sex with him?" he looked puzzled "This was the first time he licked me down there and fucked me but not the first time he touched me down there." I replied softly "What sexual activity have you done in the past?" he asked I told him the past few times of us jacking off together to gay porn and that the last time I gave him a bj and he gave me one. Also went as far back as being in the pool with him. "So was this the first time you had been with a man" he asked I paused and thought. "Yes and no" I said I went on to tell him about me and my high school friend jacking off together and one time my swim coach and me were drinking at the pool one time after a swim meet and everyone left and he rubbed my cock thru my speedos and I had come. I left right after feeling uncomfortable. "Ok so you had some activity with me before" he asked "Yes I guess I did. I never thought about it before. But i'd never had sex with another man like fucking" I replied "That's fine but there are different types of sexual activities and intercourse is only one of them. What made you do more with this gentleman now? What's his name?" he asked "His name is Rick." I replied I told him that he made me feel relaxed and comfortable with my body, he made me feel sexy and beautiful. I felt comfortable in my own skin. "How did you meet Rick? Was it at a bar or school? Tell me about him and when did you find out about him having HIV?" he asked I told him he is my landlord and that it started slowly like at the pool, sharing more details about how he touched me and made me comfortable about my body and even my precum. I could see the nurses eyes start to focus and could see a sense of arousal. I glanced down and could see his cock pushing out thru his scrubs. I looked up quickly hoping he didn't see me look. I think he did cause he smiled back. I then told him about how old he was and what he looked like. I shared I knew he had HIV before the first time we jacked off together when I found his empty pill bottles. "So you knew he had HIV before you masturbated with him, let him eat your semen and then lick your ass hole. Then finally let him have intercourse with you?" he asked in a clinical way "Yes" I said embarrassingly "But I told him not to cum in me and I tried to push him off" I said "Wait you told him not to orgasm in your ass and tried to push him off and he still did it?" the nurse asked in a concerning manner "Yes" I said looking down He lifted my head up by my chin. "Did he rape you" the nurse asked with a caring look. "No he didn't" I said quickly "Then what do you mean. It sounds a little like he forced himself on you without your consent." he said pulling his hand away from my face as it dropped it brushed against my lower thigh. "No he didn't rape me or force himself on me like that" he said. "Walk me through what happened" he said I told him how I let him fuck me and looking back I wanted to see how it felt. When he asked me if I wanted him to pull out, I had a difficult time saying no and just said "please". "So he took that as fuck me more" he said "Yes I think so" I replied I did share that I knew Rick was a top who once he started never pulled out and even that my body betrayed me cause I even pushed back on his cock a few times cause it wanted his cock in me. "So you wanted him to fuck you even though you knew he had HIV" the nurse said "Yes I kind of did" I said "I am confused" I replied "Yes I know that can be confusing. The body's need for touch, intimacy and pleasure and then the reality of STD's and HIV" he said "I just think listening to everything you told me, you sound like you might not be that afraid or not wanting HIV as much as you think" he replied? "What do you mean that's crazy" I replied back in a strong tone "its not. You knew your landlord had HIV, yet time after time you escalated your sexual encounters and intimacy with him. He told you about his HIV, how he got it, how he fucked bottoms and how he wanted to breed them and make them pregnant. Even when you told me the story about him and Jeff and you were confused that someone would want POZ cum in them and chase it, I could tell you were aroused. Look at you now" he said looking down at my cock It was rock hard and had a wet spot at the head area. He placed his hand on my thigh and caressed it. "Sounds like you wanted this to happen" he said He caressing felt good. Then there was a knock on the door. "You almost finished. We have a long line now outside", the clerk said "Yeah almost done" the nurse said He stood up, his cock was pushing out of his scrubs. "Pull down your pants and get on all fours on the exam table" he told me "Why?" I asked "I want to make sure you don't have a serious tear. You said you still had pain there" he replied. I took off my shorts and my cock was hard. "Don't be embarrassed its okay. We are all men and have desires and sometimes talking about it arouses us." he said patting my shoulder I hopped on the table. He put on a glove on his right hand and put lube on his finger. He started to apply it to just the outside of my hole. It felt good almost like he was teasing my hole. "Relax I am just trying to see if there is any bleeding on the outside" he said Then he slowly stuck his finger in massaging my insides. I let out a soft moan. "Sorry" I said softly "Again don't apologize, its natural. You should listen to your body and your desires" he said in a sensual way. Then I felt his finger hit that special spot, my gspot and I let out a loud moan and my ass pushed back on its own. "That's your prostate. A mans gspot. Its soft so that's good." he said as he kept rubbing it. My head dropped. "Your ass muscles seem ok, they are really sucking on my finger he said" Then I felt a second finger and I winced then he used them to open me up and go deeper. I kept moaning and started to pant. My cock was dripping precum on the table. "Yeah he must have found it hard to pull out cause your ass is amazing. It looks like you still have his cum in you." he said and his face what inches away from my ass. He left hand that was bare was caressing my ass. I was moaning and panting. He pulled out his fingers and smeared it on my hole teasing it. He walked away and I thought I heard him lick his fingers. He pulled off the gloves and threw them away. "You can get up off the table and put on your shorts." he said I looked on the table and there was precum on it. You can clean it up how you want. He walked back to the desk and I licked it up. He gave me a prescription for PEP and told me to come back a a few weeks for further counseling and a test. I left the clinic for the pharmacy. How my life has changed since meeting Rick I thought. And even though I am on my way to picking HIV meds, I broke a smile.

Sorry I am made an error in this section and replaced it here. Hope you enjoy it. I woke up again, it was just after midnight. I went to go and use the bathroom and heard moaning. This time it didn't sound like the porn playing on the TV, it was someone here with Rick. I slowly and quietly walked to his bedroom and ever so quietly and slowly peaked into his bedroom. I could see Rick on top of a young guy, like my age or younger, barely 18, and he was fucking him with his huge cock. The guy on the bottom was spreading out his legs begging Rick to fuck him hard and make him pregnant. What did he say??? Make him pregnant? That word again? Men don't get pregnant. Rick was pounding him hard. "Yeah you want my cock don't you, you little sluttly boy" Rick said pounding him hard " Fuck yes Daddy fuck me hard with your huge cock...fuck me please, don't stop" the guy said "Tell me what you really want", Rick said "I want you to make me pregnant" the bottom said "And tell me, say it boy or you won't get it anymore", Rick said as he pulled out and stopped fucking the guy. His cock was glistening with lube and what looked like jizz. The bottom guy looked frustrated and tried to push back towards Rick's hard cock. "No bitch say it or you won't get it." Rick said sternly "I want your cock, I want you to fuck me, I want you to make me pregnant, PLEASE PLEASE" he begged "And!", Rick said "And shoot your hot POZ load in me please" he begged WTH....he was begging Rick to shoot his knowingly HIV positive load in him. What was this guy saying. "Yeah that's it tell Daddy what you need. You been wanting this for a long time. Your pussy has wanted Daddy's cock and charged cum" Rick said "Yes Daddy I have wanted it for soooo long. I've wanted your hot charged cum in me. I've waited over six months for you to fuck me and plant your charged seed me. Fuck I need your cock in me, I need your charged cum please Daddy" the bottom said "Yeah wasn't it worth the wait", Rick said as he started to pound the bottom beneath him You could see the bottom in bliss, his eyes rolled back into his head all while spreading his legs and panting and moaning. Rick turned towards the door and I pulled back. I don't think he saw me. I waited in the hallway without looking and just listened to them. I looked down and my cock was rock hard and my hand was already on it. Rick fucked him hard for the next 5 minutes. All that time the bottom guy was moaning begging for Rick's charged POZ seed in him. He wanted to get pregnant with his cum, his DNA. My cock was rock hard listening to it. I peeked back again. Rick was no piledriving into the bottom. The guy was trying to scream but nothing came out, just a whimper. You could see the bottoms cock, a descent size was leaking precum without even touching his cock. I could tell Rick was on the edge. He had that look on his face I saw the other night. "Here it comes whore, you are going to get it." Rick yelled now ramming his cock into the bottoms ass. "OHHHH yes Daddy cum in me please, I want your POZ cum in me", he moaned back. Rick yelled as he kept ramming into the young guy under him essentially pinning him into the bed. I could see Rick was releasing his seed into the younger bottom. "AHHHHHH", Rick yelled He kept ramming him and started to slow his pace. You could see the cum coating his cock as it slowly went in and out. The bottom kept moaning. Rick leaned over and they started to kiss deeply. In all the excitement in watching them fuck, I came in my underwear. My hand was wet, my underwear filled and wet with my huge load of cum and it was leaking down my leg. I tried to scoop it up with my other hand. I quietly went back to my bedroom and licked up all my cum. I kept thinking about what I just saw and heard and my cock got hard again. I couldn't help myself and started to jack off thinking about the scene and shot another load on my chest. Licking it up and from my underwear. Content or not, I drifted off to sleep. I woke up the next morning early around 6am. The sun was out. I went out to take a shower and when I came out Rick and the guy I saw in the room were in the living room. The guy was leaving. "Jeff I want you to meet my roommate Dan. Dan this is my friend Jeff", Rick said "Hello nice to meet you", I said Jeff said the same. He looked even younger than I thought earlier. Barely 18. He was in a tight see thru shirt and boy booty shorts. His ass cheeks were hanging out a little and there was what looked like cum leaking down his leg. He noticed me looking and smiled and used his finger to wipe it up then licked his finger. "Ohh sorry he came in me so many times I overflowing", he said smiling "Okay", I said back. I could feel my cock getting hard. Rick was only sporting his thin white shorts and a decent hard on. "Sorry if we were making too much noise last night", jeff said "No not at all. Didn't hear a thing", I said "Really. I thought I heard you in the living room or hall way." Rick said smiling "Maybe when I was using the bathroom", I replied "There was cum on the ground when we walked out" Rick said "It could have been leaking from me, you fucked me so many times last night. Its still leaking out of me." Jeff said flirting with Rick "Well I gotta get going. Nice to meet you Dan", Jeff said leaning over to Rick and kissing him while grabbing his huge meat. Rick grabbed him and pulled him in for a deep kiss, their tongues going at it while he grabbed the kids ass. "You better get going before I take you right here", Rick said "He might like it" Jeff said looking at me and his hand rubbing Rick's cock thru his thin shorts. "Sorry I gotta get ready for school. Have fun", I said quickly turning back and going into the bathroom. I went into the bathroom to get washed up and hide my hard on. Rick came to the bathroom door. "Its okay if you were in the hall way, I don't mind you watching. Come in next time", Rick said "Uhh okay thanks. I am good." I said. I was naked and getting into the shower. "Okay if I come in and use the bathroom" Rick said "Sure" I replied as I started to shave He pulled out his half erect piece of man meat and started to rub it for a few times while stepping into the bathroom. He could see my hard cock. "Your leaking boy" he said reaching out and swirling his hand on my cock scooping up my precum and teasing the tip of my cock. I moaned and my eyes closed a bit. He took his fingers and licked them. "Hmmm you do taste good. Maybe I will get to taste more of you later one day" He said. "Ughh yeah maybe" I said, not knowing why I said that. "Good sooner the better" Rick said grabbing my cock head and taking more leaking precum and sticking it in my mouth. Again that way he did it felt good in my mouth so sensual so soft my mouth on autopilot started to lick and suck his finger clean. "Yeah good boy taste your cum, its so sweet" he said He turned back towards the urinal I couldn't help but look at his huge cock. He saw me look while I was shaving. He smiled. "I wish you came in last night. We could have had a lot of fun", Rick said "Ohh thanks I am fine", I replied "You jack off last night" Rick asked I paused and thought. Do I tell him the truth. "Yeah", I said as I washed my face. "Good, if you need help again let me know." he said putting his cock back in his thin shorts. I got a glance and he of course saw me. "I know things are a bit awkward right now but I hope we can get past it. I just want you to be happy.", Rick said squeezing it noticing my eyes fixed on his meat "Thank you I appreciate that", I said quickly and fully stepped into the shower. He finished using the bathroom and left.

I woke up the next morning. My ass was sore both the entrance and my inside. I got up and went to the bathroom took a shower and got ready. As I came out of my bedroom dressed Rick was at the table having coffee. He asked that I join him. I grabbed some coffee and sat at the table across from him. "How are you doing" Rick asked "I am ok. Just sore." I replied "Don't worry it will heal" he said I nodded "How are you feeling" he asked "Confused" I replied "Do you want to talk about it?" Rick asked "Not sure. I don't know what to think. I thought about what you said last night" I replied and paused "You are right, I knew you have HIV and I knew we were making out. I enjoyed the way you played with my ass and my body. I just didn't stop and think. I was too in the moment" I said "Did you enjoy it" Rick asked "I did and my body did. But I did say not to cum in me." I said "Yes that's true and I am sorry I got carried away. But you also knew once I was in I don't pull out and I asked if you wanted me to stop and you didn't say anything." Rick said "You have up to 72 hours to get on PEP. You should go to the clinic and get some. I think that will ease your mind. As for us playing together, I don't want to force you into anything you are not wanting or ready for. Maybe we take a pause. Ok?" Rick said I nodded. He stood up and left the house to go to work. I got to work early. Professor Post came by me desk and chatted and gave me some things to follow up on. His crotch was eye level and he didn't change yet and was wearing his spandex biking shorts but it looked tighter. His cock was hard and you could clearly see the outline. It looked at least 8-9" and it was thick. I tried not to look. "Hello earth to Dan up here" he said smiling. I said sorry and took the papers he gave to me. He stepped a little closer to me so his crotch was literally 6-8 inches away from my face. I looked up at him towering over me. He looked down at his crotch and then I did. It was thick and he throbbed it making it move and then said "Hmmmm... It likes you". I started to blush. I was worried as there were other employees in the office but they couldnt see what was going on cause his back was to them and part of a cubicle wall was blocking their view. I noticed at the tip of his cock a ring like thing was sticking thru the spandex. I stared leaning in closer to look. He then stepped a little closer and pushed his crotch into my face. Both our motion at the same time placed my face in his crotch against his hard cock. I inhaled and smelled his crotch. It smelled musty, body odor like and also this aroma which was intoxicating. He looked down at me and I back up at him and he pointed to my crotch. My cock was hard and pushing thru my running shorts. "I like you in running shorts, keep that up in the office. Ok" he said in a quiet yet commanding way and I nodded. He stepped back and I could see a small wet patch the size of a dime at the tip of his cock. "Ok I want those reports by the end of tomorrow Dan" he said as he placed his folders in front of his bulge and walked away.

(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”.

Have always gravitated to older guys

I’ve never sucked cock to keep a job, but I did suck my boss off for the fun of it. I used to do overnight security at Amazon, and one night I was bored and horny and ended up cruising jackd and grindr just to see what I see - my boss ends up messaging me, he had just a mouth and chest pic on his profile but I can pretty much tell who it was. We end up flirting for a little bit, and decided to meet in a bathroom on the side of the warehouse that’s usually empty that time of night. I get to the bathroom with him, and I was so horny immediately get on my knees and start playing with his dick. He must’ve not came in a while because he came within 5-10 minutes of me sucking him and he came A LOT. I couldn’t even swallow all of it and a big glob fell on my shirt. Lol Luckily our uniforms were white polo shirts so it wasn’t so obvious that I had just let another man cum in my mouth. Later on after work he came by my house and gave me a good fucking as well - Just what my slutty ass needed. That would be the first time we hooked up in that bathroom but definitely not the last

I've only completely fisted a guy once. He was a Mexican twink, maybe 5'3" 110 lbs. He took 2/3 of my forearm. It was one of those things where the fantasy was hotter than the reality (my arm literally fell asleep and it was a mess when I pulled out.) Then he asked me to fuck him, which was a non-starter because he was totally gaped. Years later, I'd like to give it another try, maybe after someone has done colonoscopy prep 🤣.

I hope this topic is relevant for any and all sex positive members but especially for all us hairy guys. I can't even count the number of times I've picked up crabs and I'm hairy enough (not pelted) that I have one hell of a time getting rid of them. If you have had similar problems please feel free to join in this conversation. If you have tips to share please share them through here with the community. For many years I wasn't active enough to bother shaving my pubes but have had to resort as I got over sexual hang ups and freed myself to be more adventurous. I love my hairy body and hairy guys so really didn't understand the shaving fetish, but, of necessity have mostly relented. Have others felt the same? The other thing I've been wondering about lately is; why do we not have a pill available for this? I used to have a dog. He got a pill flea treatment every so often and voila 'no flees'. Why do we have more compassion for our dogs than humans? I suspect it has a lot to do with being such a sex phobic culture. This reality makes it hard to advocate for the research money needed to develop such a drug. I have no doubt marketing the product would not be a problem these days. We hairy guys might even open the franchises ... lol. I look forward to seeing if this conversation gets off the ground. If you'd rather message me your thoughts I'm open to that as well. If I've missed this topic somewhere on this forum you could also direct me to that conversation. In the meantime, happy unencumbered humping everyone! Oh yeah! If you know you have crabs 🦀 or suspect you might, please do your best to get rid of them before you hookup. I suspect their are very few of us, even on this forum, with a fetish for 'chasing crabs.'

I think a little subtlety could work best here. Make a half joking comment when he's looking particularly hot (Damn...looking good! If you were into guys I'd do unspeakable things to you hahaha). You don't want to come across as completely serious because if he ISN'T interested, he may mention it to his wife, neighbors, etc. and your rep is shot. This way, you have plausible deniability.

Well, let us know if he is... 😉

Started prep , to protect my partner! We have a great life but after yrs sex slowed down( heard normal) and i just went with it, but started cheating at times after 12 yrs, and ran into few gh& cruise spots. Real masc , sexual gym guy , so i get noticed, and scorpio pig . But the prep stated & had the farts( but bro justaholeff) help me change my diet and helped!!! But side effect is i’m becoming a whore, have suck 13 covk and swallowed 9 loads& been fuck 3 times& bread and it only jan 25, and bury in snow in boston. So after being split roasted buy a couple i realize i am! Does anyone go threw this? Just look at my bottle, it doesn’t have a waring for it 🐽

Really difficult to say. I have had a variety os sexual experiences. When I get nostalgic and reminisce about fond memories in the past, I typically remember the same experiences. 1) had a 4 way with my bf and another M/F couple. My bf was gay, the other guy was bi. I fucked his wife while he fucked my bf. She wanted me raw and her husband wouldn’t let her. He left the room to use the restroom and I slipped off the condom( have only wore a condom on a few occasions) and pumped my load inside her pussy. He never knew. 2) the same bf brought a guy home for me to fuck. He was a beautiful 18yo twink; I was around 30yo. He stayed the weekend and I fucked and bread him all over the house and in the back yard. So many loads. 3) about six years ago I had a FB. He was about 10 or 15 years younger, Latino, with a nice build and dick, and a great ass. When his BF was away on business, I’d go over and fuck him. The last time we got together, we smoked a little weed and than another guy showed up. He was a 20 something married black guy with a big dick. My buddy was in cock heaven. We fucked his holes good. We took a break after me and the other guy put two loads each in his ass. We smoked a little more than went back to breeding him. After the black guy came, I sucked his cock clean than ate my buddy’s sloppy hole. Very uncharacteristic of me. Don’t really know what came over me. The other guy started playing with my ass and eating me out. He really wanted to fuck me but I haven’t prepared for that, but now wish I had..

Hosting sluts looking to get whored out -- DIRTY, KINKY, AND RAUNCHY TO THE FRONT! Hit me up on TELE - Heartofcoal X - BBSLUTDANNY

I am no expert but I think it’s important to remember we are all somewhat different. Some have weaker immune systems than others. Some notice the fuck flue, others don’t. I found out I was HIV+ when I was hospitalized with shingles. My bf at the time never felt any reaction; he tested positive after I found out. If someone has issues that strain the body (medical, drugs, or whatever) might be more likely to increase the severity and reaction. as for the bonding question, only you can answer that.

feet

Armpits!

In the 70's a gay friend of mine had a book called "Men's Bodies, Men's Selves" (1979) in one of his bookshelves and in that book I found the following "poem": Poem: Rape When you walked into my prison cell and told me that you were going to fuck me---after first pulling down your pants and exposing your rod I guess you thought you were going to get a virgin ass well---sucker I have been fucked before and plan on getting fucked again so you are not getting anything new! and someday you will come to my cell and your ass will be twitching and then you---sucker---will fell my cum run down between your legs p, 115

First time it happened I was being used by a group of 7 over summer lunchtime in their apartment near Central Park, some loads didn't go in my hole and they sprayed my face and hair alongside my body. when we finished I had 5-7 loads on me and the host decided it would be funny to kick me out like that. Oh well. was walking for a few blocks back to my apartment with soaked shirt and cum all over my face and clumped hair, feeling very proud of myself 🐷

Then he suddenly stopped and turned me over. He pulled me up on my knees and spread my cheeks and went back to eating me out. I moaned again putting my head down and just enjoying the pleasure. He got one of his old dirty shirts and put it under my nose along with worn underwear. I inhaled them and it made my buzz even further. After a few minutes of eating me out, playing with my balls and cock, I felt Rick stand up behind me. He put something wet on my hole and put his cock at the entrance of my hole. I was so in bliss and I felt him his large head enter me. I let out a scream in pain. "Ahhhhhh it hurts." I yelled "It's okay baby, it will hurt now but trust me you will be enjoying it soon enough. It will feel amazing. I promise. Have I been wrong yet?" Rick said comforting me "No" I said He pushed back again trying to get in. It hurt like hell and he had difficulty cause his head was fat. "Relax just breathe and smell my clothes. And now push back like you are taking a shit" he said I inhaled his shirt and got a buzz and pushed my ass out like I was taking a shit and holy crap it popped in. But it hurt. "Argghhhhhh" I yelled in pain. "Ahhh yeah that's it boy. I am in you. Fuck your cunt is so wet right now" he said. "Daddy stop please. It hurts. And you have HIV. I don't want to get AIDS" I cried out "Don't worry baby you might not get it." he said as he pushed forward into me. It was ripping me apart I yelled in pain. Now he had pushed me down flat on my stomach. He had his hands on my hips keeping me down. He kept sinking into me. "Ahhhhhh it hurts" I cried out He was now lying on me. "Don't worry baby you have half of me in you. Only a little more to go" he whispered in my ear. I felt his hands on my nipples working them sending shocks to my cock. He pushed further while pulling on my nipples causing pain in both. It made my ass not as sore. It hurt really bad. I felt each inch rip my hole apart in his width and pushing in his depth. Then I felt something in my belly. Like he hit something. He pushed and I yelled out in pain. I was tearing and it hurt bad. I tried to adjust but he was too big and heavy for me. I finally felt his crotch against my ass. "Ohhh Dan. I am finally all in you. Fuck your pussy feels so good. I feel it pulsing around my cock. I wants me in there. "Rick said in my ear kissing my ear and now kissing my neck. I moaned back. His hands still playing my nipples. I felt his slowly pull partially out and push back in. I kept letting out cries of pain as it still hurt but after a couple of minutes my ass felt like it adjusted or was just numb to his cock. He kept this up and his cock started to hit that spot his finger did but in a more powerful and intense way. I started to moan. It started to feel a little good. There was pain but now pleasure had entered from stage right. "Hmmm yeah your pussy enjoying this. Your pussy and my cock were meant for each other" he said. "Rick please stop soon. I don't want to get HIV please", I said in a half moan. He fucking me slowly and the pressure was intense and the pleasure started to build up. He pulled back with just the tip in. I thought he was going to pull out and in my body's betrayal my ass lifted up off the couch. It wanted his cock back in me. "Yeah your pussy wants DAddy's cock doesn't it. You want me to pull out?" he said as he pushed back into me. I let out a moan. I was in conflict. I didn't want HIV. "No please..." I moaned "Please what" he said as he sped up his pumping. "Please" I moaned He kept pumping. His breath got heavy. I knew he was cumming. "Please pull out please. I don't want to get HIV. Rick please" I cried out He kept pounding me. I tried to lift off but he was too big for me. "Yeah fuck your cunt is mine. I am going to cum in you. Give you my POZ load. You want it don't you. You want Daddy's cum in your cunt", he said. He was close "No please don't....don't" I yelled trying to push up "You sure, your cunt is squeezing me...your pussy wants it. You know you want it. You've always wanted it" he yelled My mind was racing, no don't want HIV, why would I. I don't want it. "Here is comes bitch" he yelled I felt his cock get bigger in which I didn't think was possible and felt him shoot load after load into me. I felt his hot cum hitting my walls. It was an incredible weird feeling. I just lay there taking it. I began to tear and sob a little. Rick kept pumping slowly until he was done with me. He pulled out of me and off me and sat back on the couch. I stayed lying down for a minute and slowly got up and sat up. "Dan you ok" Rick asked "Yeah, no, I dont know" I said tearing "I told you once I fuck someone I always come in them. Right?" Rick said "Yes" I replied "But I said dont cum in me" I replied "What did I just say. You knew" Rick said sternly "Yes I know", I replied "Then why did you let me fuck you in the first place", Rick said "You let me cock in you. You even pushed back on me a few times. I could feel your cunt pull me in" he said All this talk made my head spin. "You sure you didn't want me to fuck you and cum in you" Rick said now sitting closer to me. "I don't know why I didn't stop you at the beginning or tell me to stop when I asked?" I said "Maybe its cause you know you want me to fuck you and to cum in you" Rick said rubbing my thigh. "I don't want to get HIV." I said "You sure. I know you wanted my cum and you wanted me to fuck you. You even enjoyed it", Rick said "No I don't. I don't know what I want and didn't enjoy it" I countered back to him "You sure you didn't want it or enjoy it" Rick said pointing down to the couch. I didn't realize it but I had cum. There was a puddle of my cum on the couch. "I know you did. Your pussy wanted this. You wanted this. If you didn't you wouldn't have come with me tonight. You know I have HIV and I am not on meds. You see how I look. You know I am sick. But your pussy tells me otherwise" Rick said as his finger was now back in me rubbing my gspot. My cock was hard and leaking again. I was so confused. I had just been fucked by a man with HIV who is not on meds and he came in me. I don't want to get sick. What is wrong with me?

Seeing a man in Grey sweat whose underwear are showing Or he's commando with a big imprint. example I saw a guy at target he had on a white T-shirt. His nipples were showing because his body was so busting big and muscle hard but then he had these green sweats on and he had this huge cock that was commando and he was with his wife, but I’m thinking he puts that thing in her cause it was at least 9 inches. It was a huge cock and the head was fat. Plus it was a hot in sweaty day. I still wonder if he knows that other men are looking at his big old dick swinging in his pants.

I might go to this one 🐽 it would be my 2nd ever such event lol

I was inspired by the discussion of what defined "pig sex" in this thread. There have been other discussions where same terms have been used to mean different things. So, I turned to AI to ask - "What are the top 1000 slang terms used by gay men in the US since 1960s" and had them organized by recency and prevalence. Prevalence was a measurement of how frequently these words occurred in gay online forums/sites within the last 20 years, ranked HIGH, MEDIUM, LOW. THERE ARE VERY FEW TERMS on this list that I've ever heard and certainly never used. Have you? What slang terms are missing? Comment below. SLANG TERM, DEFINITION, and ORIGIN ** 100-footer ** DEFINITION: An obviously gay or lesbian person (as if visible from 100 feet away) ORIGIN: US, mid-20th century, likely from gay communities to describe flamboyance ** 420-Friendly ** DEFINITION: Weed-friendly **** Open to weed use ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** AC/DC ** DEFINITION: Bisexual ORIGIN: 1970s, US/UK, from the rock band or electricity (alternating/direct current) symbolizing both ways ** Ace-flux ** DEFINITION: Fluctuating asexuality ORIGIN: 2010s ** Achillean ** DEFINITION: An umbrella term for attractions and relationships between men, regardless of their sexual or romantic orientation ORIGIN: Recent, 2010s, referencing ancient Greek mythology (Achilles) and Leonardo da Vinci's sexuality; also known as MLM (man-loving-man) ** Aftercare ** DEFINITION: Emotional/physical care post-scene **** Emotional care **** Dominant partner ORIGIN: BDSM ** Alice Blue Gown ** DEFINITION: Effeminate gay man ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US, possibly from a song or color associated with delicacy ** Alpha pup ** DEFINITION: Leader pup ORIGIN: Pup play ** Anal assassin ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: 2000s, UK/US, derogatory term implying aggressive anal sex ** Anon pic ** DEFINITION: Anonymous body photo ORIGIN: App culture ** Aromantic ** DEFINITION: No romantic attraction ORIGIN: 2010s ** Arse bandit ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: 1980s, UK, derogatory from "arse" (ass) and bandit implying theft or invasion ** Artiste ** DEFINITION: A gay man who excels at fellatio ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US gay slang ** Asexual ** DEFINITION: No sexual attraction ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Auntie ** DEFINITION: An older, often effeminate and gossipy gay man ORIGIN: Early 20th century, US/UK gay slang ** Baby gay ** DEFINITION: Someone who’s newly out and is generally pretty clueless about everything **** Newly out or inexperienced gay person ORIGIN: 2010s, modern queer slang, from coming out experiences **** 2000s–2010s slang ** Baby queen ** DEFINITION: New or inexperienced drag queen ORIGIN: Drag culture ** Backgammon player ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: Late 18th century, Britain, from backgammon as euphemism for sodomy ** Banjee ** DEFINITION: Street-tough, urban style; often masc, working-class ORIGIN: Black and Latinx queer communities ** Bareback ** DEFINITION: Condomless sex ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s porn and hookup slang ** Basket shopping ** DEFINITION: Checking out a man's crotch through clothing ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, British/US gay slang, "basket" refers to the bulge ** Bathhouse / Baths ** DEFINITION: Gay male sex club with saunas, rooms, etc. ORIGIN: Early–mid 20th century urban gay culture ** Bathhouse Betty ** DEFINITION: Man who spends a lot of time at bathhouses ORIGIN: Late 20th-century bar slang ** Baths ** DEFINITION: Bathhouses frequented by gay men for sexual encounters ORIGIN: US, mid-20th century, from gay bathhouse culture ** Bathsheba ** DEFINITION: Gay man who frequents bathhouses ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US, play on "baths" and biblical name ** Batty boy ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay or effeminate man ORIGIN: 1990s, Jamaica/UK, from "batty" meaning bottom ** BB / Bareback ** DEFINITION: Condomless sex; raw sex ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s ** Beach bitch ** DEFINITION: A gay man who frequents beaches and resorts for sexual encounters ORIGIN: US, mid-20th century ** Bean queen ** DEFINITION: Man attracted to Latino men ORIGIN: Late 20th-century fetishizing slang ** Bear ** DEFINITION: Hairy, chunky, chubby, muscly, beardy gay man, often with big bellies **** Large, hairy, rugged gay man ORIGIN: 1980s, US gay subculture, from bear-like appearance; popularized in Bear Magazine **** Late 1970s–80s; Bear Magazine and bar culture ** Bear Chub ** DEFINITION: Larger man seeking bears ORIGIN: ** Bear daddy ** DEFINITION: Older bear with daddy vibe ORIGIN: Bear subculture ** Bear4Bear ** DEFINITION: Bears seeking bears ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Beard ** DEFINITION: A person used as a date, romantic partner, or spouse to conceal one's sexual orientation **** Person used to hide sexuality ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US, from "bearding" to hide identity **** 1990s–present ** Beat ** DEFINITION: An area frequented by gay men, where sexual acts occur; also, looking flawless (face or body) ORIGIN: Australia for location (mid-20th century); for compliment, from drag/ballroom culture, 1980s-1990s US ** Bedroom queen ** DEFINITION: Queen who mostly does drag at home/online ORIGIN: Social media era ** Beefcake ** DEFINITION: Muscular, attractive gay man ORIGIN: 1940s, US, from "beefcake" photos of muscular men ** Beige Flag ** DEFINITION: Keeping someone on hold ORIGIN: ** Belle ** DEFINITION: Young gay man ORIGIN: 1920s-1930s, US Prohibition era slang ** Benching ** DEFINITION: Keeping someone on hold ORIGIN: 2010s ** Bent ** DEFINITION: Gay, as opposed to straight ORIGIN: UK, early 20th century, from "bent" meaning crooked or not straight ** Beta pup ** DEFINITION: Submissive pup ORIGIN: Pup play ** Binding ** DEFINITION: A technique in which individuals wear tight clothing to hide and flatten breasts ORIGIN: 1990s-2000s, transgender and queer communities ** Bisexual ** DEFINITION: A person emotionally, physically, and/or sexually attracted to both men and women ORIGIN: Late 19th century, medical/psychological term; entered common use in 1960s-1970s with bisexual movement ** Block ** DEFINITION: Remove user ORIGIN: App feature ** Body pic? ** DEFINITION: Request for body photo ORIGIN: App culture ** Body'ody'ody ** DEFINITION: Emphasizing impressive body **** Emphasizing impressive physique ORIGIN: Drag and pop culture slang **** Drag/pop culture ** Boi ** DEFINITION: Youthful, androgynous or submissive person ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s queer and kink communities ** Bona ** DEFINITION: Good, attractive ORIGIN: Polari; more UK-centric but known among some US queer history buffs ** Bondage bottom ** DEFINITION: Submissive in bondage ORIGIN: BDSM ** Bondage pig ** DEFINITION: Person who loves heavy bondage ORIGIN: Kink ** Bondage top ** DEFINITION: Dominant in bondage ORIGIN: BDSM ** Boot worship ** DEFINITION: Boot-focused kink ORIGIN: Leather scene ** Bootblack ** DEFINITION: Person who shines boots at leather events ORIGIN: Leather culture ** Boots ** DEFINITION: A verbal exclamation point added to statements for emphasis **** Intensifier meaning “very” ORIGIN: 2010s, from ballroom/drag culture, US **** Drag culture ** Bop ** DEFINITION: An amazing, ass-shaking, and/or iconic song ORIGIN: 2010s, modern queer slang ** Bottom ** DEFINITION: A receptive partner in intercourse **** Receptive or submissive sexual role; Submissive partner; Feminine-coded role ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US gay slang from sexual positions **** 20th-century gay sexual slang ** Boy ** DEFINITION: Younger or submissive partner ORIGIN: Long-standing; used in leather and BDSM contexts ** Brat ** DEFINITION: Sub who playfully resists ORIGIN: BDSM ** Brat Tamer ** DEFINITION: Dom who handles brats ORIGIN: BDSM ** Breadcrumbing ** DEFINITION: Leading someone on ORIGIN: 2010s ** Bro (gay context) ** DEFINITION: Casual, masculine gay man ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s ** Bromance ** DEFINITION: Intense but non-sexual male friendship; often used jokingly in gay contexts ORIGIN: 2000s mainstream slang ** Bromosexual ** DEFINITION: Straight-presenting man with strong gay friendships or a gay man with “bro” vibe ORIGIN: 2010s pop slang ** Brosexual / Bromosexual ** DEFINITION: Gay man with “bro” vibe ORIGIN: 2010s slang ** Browning ** DEFINITION: Anal sex ORIGIN: 1920s, US gay slang ** Bug party ** DEFINITION: Gathering centered on HIV transmission fetish (very niche) ORIGIN: Late 20th-century underground slang ** Bugchaser ** DEFINITION: Person seeking HIV infection (controversial, stigmatized) ORIGIN: Late 20th-century underground slang ** Bug-phobic ** DEFINITION: Fearful of HIV-positive people (stigmatizing) ORIGIN: Community slang ** Bull queer ** DEFINITION: A gay man who exclusively tops in intercourse ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, prison slang ** Bum chum ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: UK slang, from "bum" (ass) and chum (friend) ** Bumder ** DEFINITION: Rare slur for a gay man ORIGIN: UK slang, blend of bum and bender ** Bummer ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: UK slang, from bum ** Bussy ** DEFINITION: Portmanteau of "boy pussy"; a male anus in anal sex context ORIGIN: 2000s-2010s, US queer slang, popularized online ** Busted ** DEFINITION: Messy, unkempt, or poorly presented ORIGIN: 2010s, from drag culture ** Butch ** DEFINITION: A person who identifies as masculine **** Masculine-presenting queer person (often lesbian, but used among gay men too) ORIGIN: 1940s-1950s, lesbian communities but applies to gay men **** Early 20th century; popularized via working-class and bar cultures ** Butchy femme ** DEFINITION: A gender expression between femme and futch ORIGIN: 2010s, queer gender terms ** Cake ** DEFINITION: The booty ORIGIN: 2010s, modern slang ** Camp ** DEFINITION: Exaggerated and amusing, associated with gay men or femininity ORIGIN: Early 20th century, from Polari/queer culture; popularized in 1960s ** Camp Queen ** DEFINITION: Queen known for campy style ORIGIN: Drag culture ** Castro clone ** DEFINITION: Hyper-masculine, uniform-style gay man (flannel, mustache, jeans) ORIGIN: 1970s San Francisco Castro district ** Castro gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man associated with San Francisco Castro ORIGIN: 1970s–present; SF regional ** Catfish ** DEFINITION: Fake profile ORIGIN: 2010s ** CBT ** DEFINITION: Cock and ball torture ORIGIN: BDSM ** Chaos Gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man with chaotic energy ORIGIN: 2020s memes **** 2020s ** Chaser ** DEFINITION: Someone attracted to a particular type, e.g., larger men ORIGIN: 1990s, from bear/chubby subcultures ** Chastity ** DEFINITION: Wearing a chastity device ORIGIN: BDSM ** Chelsea boy ** DEFINITION: Fashionable, gym-toned gay man (NYC Chelsea stereotype) ORIGIN: 1980s–90s New York neighborhood stereotype ** Chem-friendly ** DEFINITION: Open to drug use ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Chemsex ** DEFINITION: Sex involving stimulants ORIGIN: 2000s public health term ** Chi chi man ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: Caribbean, 1990s, derogatory ** Chicken ** DEFINITION: A youthful gay man **** Young, often naive or underage boy ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US/UK **** 20th-century gay slang; also in Polari ** Chickenhawk ** DEFINITION: Older man seeking much younger men ORIGIN: 20th-century gay slang ** Children ** DEFINITION: Members of a house or younger queer folks ORIGIN: Ballroom culture ** Chill? ** DEFINITION: Asking about drugs/sex ORIGIN: App shorthand ** Chocolate queen ** DEFINITION: Man attracted to Black men ORIGIN: Fetishizing slang; often criticized ** Chosen family ** DEFINITION: Non-biological support network ORIGIN: 1990s–present LGBTQ culture ** Chub ** DEFINITION: Larger, heavier gay man ORIGIN: Late 20th-century body-positive subcultures ** Chub4Chub ** DEFINITION: Larger men seeking each other ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Chubby ** DEFINITION: Obese man ORIGIN: ** Circuit bunny ** DEFINITION: Younger man who follows circuit parties ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s ** Circuit daddy ** DEFINITION: Older man who still does circuit parties ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s ** Circuit Gay ** DEFINITION: Man who attends circuit parties ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Circuit kween ** DEFINITION: Camp spelling of “queen” for circuit-loving person ORIGIN: 2010s internet slang ** Circuit party ** DEFINITION: Large, often multi-day gay dance/party event ORIGIN: 1980s–90s; tied to club and drug culture ** Circuit queen ** DEFINITION: Man who frequently attends circuit parties ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s circuit culture ** Circuit twink ** DEFINITION: Young man who frequents circuit parties ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s ** Clean ** DEFINITION: HIV-negative (stigmatizing) ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Clock ** DEFINITION: To notice or call out something (often a flaw) ORIGIN: Ballroom/drag slang ** Clockable ** DEFINITION: Easy to recognize as queer or trans ORIGIN: Ballroom and drag slang ** Clocked ** DEFINITION: Recognized or called out ORIGIN: Ballroom culture ** Clone ** DEFINITION: A San Francisco or New York denizen with exaggerated macho behavior ORIGIN: 1970s-1980s, US, from Castro clone look (mustache, jeans) ** Close friends thirst ** DEFINITION: Sexy content for “close friends” ORIGIN: 2020s ** Closet ** DEFINITION: Metaphor for hiding one’s sexuality ORIGIN: Mid-20th century; “coming out of the closet” popularized later ** Closet / Closeted ** DEFINITION: Hiding sexuality; Not publicly out ORIGIN: ** Closet case ** DEFINITION: Person hiding their homosexuality ORIGIN: Mid-20th century ** Closet queen ** DEFINITION: Gay man who hides his sexuality but is known in gay circles ORIGIN: Mid-20th century bar slang ** Closeted ** DEFINITION: Keeping one's sexuality a secret ORIGIN: 1960s-1970s, from "in the closet" metaphor ** Club kid ** DEFINITION: Young, flamboyant nightlife personality ORIGIN: 1980s–90s New York club culture ** Club queen ** DEFINITION: Queen who mainly performs in clubs ORIGIN: Drag and nightlife culture ** Cock gobbler ** DEFINITION: Vulgar slur for a gay man who performs fellatio ORIGIN: 2000s, US derogatory slang ** Cocksucker ** DEFINITION: A person who practices fellatio, usually a gay male ORIGIN: Early 20th century, derogatory but reclaimed ** Coming Out ** DEFINITION: Publicly acknowledging one’s sexuality or gender identity ORIGIN: 20th-century gay communities; metaphor from debutante “coming out” ** Cottagecore gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man into pastoral, cozy aesthetics ORIGIN: 2020s internet culture ** Cottaging ** DEFINITION: Having or seeking anonymous gay sex in a public toilet ORIGIN: UK, 1960s, from "cottage" as public restroom ** Cruise bar ** DEFINITION: Bar known for cruising ORIGIN: Mid-late 20th-century gay bar culture ** Cruising ** DEFINITION: Seeking a casual gay sex encounter ORIGIN: Ancient Rome historically; modern 20th century US/UK ** Cub ** DEFINITION: A young bear, perhaps with a smaller frame **** Younger or smaller bear ORIGIN: 1990s, bear subculture **** Bear subculture ** Cuffing Season ** DEFINITION: Winter relationship trend ORIGIN: 2010s ** Cut/Uncut ** DEFINITION: Circumcised/uncircumcised ORIGIN: App shorthand ** Daddy ** DEFINITION: A typically older gay man ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, from paternal figure; popularized in 2010s ** DDF ** DEFINITION: Drug- and disease-free (stigmatizing) ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s ** Demisexual ** DEFINITION: Attraction after emotional bond ORIGIN: 2010s ** Dicklicker ** DEFINITION: Vulgar slur for a gay man ORIGIN: 2000s, US derogatory ** Disco dolly ** DEFINITION: Gay man who loves disco/club dancing ORIGIN: 1970s–80s ** Discreet ** DEFINITION: Wants privacy; not out ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Dish ** DEFINITION: Attractive person; also gossip ORIGIN: Polari and US gay slang ** DL (Down-Low) ** DEFINITION: Men who have sex with men but identify as straight/hidden ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s discourse, especially in Black communities ** Dog Gay / Cat Gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man whose personality aligns with dog/cat stereotypes ORIGIN: 2020s memes ** Doing the most ** DEFINITION: Trying too hard ORIGIN: 2010s slang ** Dolly eek ** DEFINITION: Pretty face ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, Polari (UK gay secret language), backslang for "eek" (face) ** Dom ** DEFINITION: Dominant partner ORIGIN: BDSM culture ** Down-Low ** DEFINITION: Homosexual or bisexual activity kept secret by men ORIGIN: US, 1990s, African American communities ** Drag ** DEFINITION: Dressing as the opposite gender, often for performance **** Gender performance; Drag queen/king art form ORIGIN: Shakespearean, "dressed as a girl" acronym; 19th century theater **** Older theatrical slang ** Drag mother ** DEFINITION: Experienced queen who mentors newer queens ORIGIN: Drag culture ** Drama queen ** DEFINITION: Person (often gay man) who overreacts theatrically ORIGIN: Mid-20th century slang; popularized in gay and mainstream culture ** Dropping pins ** DEFINITION: Hinting at one's homosexuality ORIGIN: 1920s-1930s, US, from "dropping hairpins" to signal subtly ** Dungeon ** DEFINITION: Kink play space ORIGIN: Leather/BDSM ** Dungeon monitor (DM) ** DEFINITION: Safety supervisor ORIGIN: BDSM ** Edging ** DEFINITION: Prolonging arousal ORIGIN: Kink ** Elder gay ** DEFINITION: Older gay man, often jokingly ORIGIN: 2010s internet slang ** Electro play ** DEFINITION: Electricity-based kink ORIGIN: BDSM ** En femme ** DEFINITION: The act of wearing clothes stereotypically of the opposite sex ORIGIN: French, 20th century cross-dressing ** ENM ** DEFINITION: Ethical non-monogamy ORIGIN: 2010s ** Era ** DEFINITION: Describing a way of acting during a certain period ORIGIN: 2010s, modern slang ** Exhibitionist ** DEFINITION: Likes being watched ORIGIN: Kink ** Extra ** DEFINITION: Taking anything to the next level **** Over-the-top behavior ORIGIN: 2010s, ballroom culture **** 2010s slang ** F3-LOWer ** DEFINITION: A typically effeminate gay man ORIGIN: Mid-20th century ** Face pic? ** DEFINITION: Request for face photo ORIGIN: App culture ** Fag hag ** DEFINITION: Woman who primarily socializes with gay men ORIGIN: Mid-late 20th century; now often seen as dated/offensive ** Fag stag ** DEFINITION: Straight man who enjoys company of gay men ORIGIN: 1990s, US, counterpart to "fag hag" ** Faggot / Fag ** DEFINITION: Strong slur for gay man; sometimes reclaimed ORIGIN: Early 20th century; widely used as insult ** Fairy ** DEFINITION: Slur for gay men, reclaimed **** Effeminate gay man; often derogatory ORIGIN: 1920s-1930s, US; from effeminate stereotype **** Late 1800s/early 1900s urban subcultures ** Family ** DEFINITION: Coded term for other gay/queer people ORIGIN: 20th-century bar and community slang ** Faun ** DEFINITION: Gay man with hairy legs but less body hair ORIGIN: 2010s, US gay body type slang ** Feeling My Oats ** DEFINITION: Living your best life ORIGIN: 2010s, from RuPaul's Drag Race ** Fem / Femme ** DEFINITION: Feminine-presenting man **** Feminine-presenting gay man ORIGIN: 20th-century queer slang **** 1990s–2000s queer slang ** Femboy ** DEFINITION: A feminine or androgynous male ORIGIN: 1990s-2000s, online communities ** Fem-leaning ** DEFINITION: Mostly feminine ORIGIN: App culture ** Fierce ** DEFINITION: Intense confidence in looks or actions ORIGIN: 1980s-1990s, ballroom ** Finocchio ** DEFINITION: Slur for a gay man ORIGIN: Italian-American, from "fennel" implying softness ** Fire Island gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man associated with Fire Island summers ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Fire Island queen ** DEFINITION: Man who spends summers partying on Fire Island ORIGIN: 1970s–present; New York regional ** Fish / Fishy ** DEFINITION: Looking convincingly feminine (like a cis woman) in drag ORIGIN: Ballroom and drag culture; contested usage today ** Fish queen ** DEFINITION: Queen who looks very feminine ORIGIN: Drag/ballroom slang ** Fistee ** DEFINITION: Person receiving fisting ORIGIN: Kink ** Fister ** DEFINITION: Person who performs fisting ORIGIN: Kink ** Flit ** DEFINITION: Effeminate gay man ORIGIN: 1950s, from Catcher in the Rye ** Folx ** DEFINITION: A shorter alternative to folks ORIGIN: 2010s, inclusive language ** For The Gods ** DEFINITION: Executing something perfectly ORIGIN: 2010s, drag/ballroom ** Friend of Dorothy ** DEFINITION: A gay person **** Coded phrase meaning gay man ORIGIN: 1930s-1940s, shibboleth from Wizard of Oz/Judy Garland **** Mid-20th century ** Friend of friends ** DEFINITION: Coded phrase for queer person ORIGIN: Various 20th-century closeted contexts ** Fruit ** DEFINITION: Derogatory term for gay man ORIGIN: Early–mid 20th century; linked to “fruity” meaning effeminate ** Fruit fly ** DEFINITION: Woman who spends a lot of time with gay men ORIGIN: Late 20th-century bar slang **** 1990s–2000s ** Fruit stand ** DEFINITION: Place with many gay men ORIGIN: Playful slang ** FWB ** DEFINITION: Friends with benefits ORIGIN: General slang; co-used in hookup culture ** Gay ** DEFINITION: Homosexual man (often reclaimed or neutral in community contexts) ORIGIN: Mid-20th century onward, originally clinical/derogatory but widely reclaimed ** Gold star gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man who has never had sex with a woman ORIGIN: Late 20th century, joking/slang origin ** Grindr fingers ** DEFINITION: The specific way people hold their phone while using Grindr ORIGIN: 2010s app culture meme ** Grindr goblin ** DEFINITION: Someone who uses Grindr obsessively or in a chaotic way ORIGIN: 2020s internet slang ** Group play ** DEFINITION: Sexual activity involving more than two people ORIGIN: Kink and hookup culture ** Handsome ** DEFINITION: Attractive man (often used ironically or affectionately) ORIGIN: General gay slang ** Hawk ** DEFINITION: Person who aggressively pursues younger partners ORIGIN: 20th-century slang (see Chickenhawk) ** House ** DEFINITION: Chosen family / ballroom family unit ORIGIN: 1970s–80s ballroom culture ** House mother ** DEFINITION: Leader/mentor of a ballroom house ORIGIN: 1970s–80s ballroom scene ** Hung ** DEFINITION: Having a large penis ORIGIN: Sexual slang, widespread in apps/profiles ** Intern ** DEFINITION: Younger/less experienced gay man (joking) ORIGIN: 2010s–2020s internet slang ** IP (Internet Prince) ** DEFINITION: Attractive man whose face is never shown (only body/torso pics) ORIGIN: 2010s–2020s app culture ** Isaiah ** DEFINITION: Older gay man who gives unsolicited life advice ORIGIN: 2020s meme slang (from TikTok/Instagram) ** Kiki ** DEFINITION: Casual chat / gossip session ORIGIN: Ballroom and AAVE-influenced queer slang ** Kink ** DEFINITION: Sexual fetish or non-normative practice ORIGIN: BDSM / leather subcultures ** Kink-friendly ** DEFINITION: Open to partners with kink interests ORIGIN: App / profile shorthand ** Kiwi ** DEFINITION: New Zealander (sometimes used in travel/hookup contexts) ORIGIN: General slang with gay app usage ** League ** DEFINITION: Level of attractiveness / dating market value ORIGIN: 2010s–2020s dating slang ** Leather ** DEFINITION: Leather fetish or leather community aesthetic ORIGIN: Mid-20th century gay leather subculture ** Leather daddy ** DEFINITION: Older dominant man in leather gear ORIGIN: Leather/BDSM culture ** Link? ** DEFINITION: Request for current location / address for hookup ORIGIN: Early–mid app culture ** Looksmaxxing ** DEFINITION: Maximizing physical appearance through grooming/fitness/surgery ORIGIN: 2020s internet slang (orig. incel → queer/meme usage) ** LTR ** DEFINITION: Long-term relationship ORIGIN: 1990s–present personal ads / apps ** Lucky Pierre ** DEFINITION: The middle man in a threesome ORIGIN: Mid-20th century, US/French origin joke/song ** Masc ** DEFINITION: Masculine-presenting gay man ORIGIN: 2010s app culture ** Masc4Masc ** DEFINITION: Masculine man seeking masculine partner ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s dating/app culture ** Miss Thing ** DEFINITION: Playful/sometimes shady address for another gay man ORIGIN: Late 20th-century Black/Latinx queer communities ** Mo ** DEFINITION: Shortened form of “homo” ORIGIN: 20th-century bar slang ** Monogamish ** DEFINITION: Mostly monogamous with some flexibility ORIGIN: 2010s, popularized by Dan Savage ** Mother ** DEFINITION: Leader/mentor figure in ballroom or drag ORIGIN: 1970s–80s ballroom scene ** Mother Superior ** DEFINITION: Leader of a group of gay men ORIGIN: Mid-20th century US extension of “mother” ** MSM ** DEFINITION: Men who have sex with men (clinical/public health term) ORIGIN: Late 20th-century epidemiology ** Mug ** DEFINITION: The face ORIGIN: 2010s drag slang ** Muscle mary ** DEFINITION: Very muscular, often vain gay man ORIGIN: Late 20th-century bar slang ** Naff ** DEFINITION: Tacky, uncool ORIGIN: Polari → British mainstream slang ** Nance / Nancy ** DEFINITION: Effeminate gay man ORIGIN: Early 20th-century English/American slang ** Neg ** DEFINITION: HIV-negative ORIGIN: Late 20th-century HIV/AIDS communities ** Neg4Neg ** DEFINITION: HIV-negative seeking same ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Neg-friendly ** DEFINITION: Open to HIV-negative partners ORIGIN: Late 20th-century profiles ** Negotiation ** DEFINITION: Pre-scene discussion / boundary setting ORIGIN: BDSM ** Nelly ** DEFINITION: Effeminate gay man (sometimes affectionate, often mocking) ORIGIN: Mid-20th century ** Nipple play ** DEFINITION: Nipple stimulation kink ORIGIN: Kink ** No Fats, No Fems ** DEFINITION: Exclusionary phrase rejecting fat and feminine men ORIGIN: Late 20th-century personal ads → 2010s apps ** No tea, no shade ** DEFINITION: “No offense,” often before/after criticism ORIGIN: Drag and ballroom culture ** NSA ** DEFINITION: No strings attached (casual sex) ORIGIN: 1990s–present hookup slang ** NSA fun ** DEFINITION: No-strings sex ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Omi ** DEFINITION: Man ORIGIN: Polari ** On prep ** DEFINITION: Taking PrEP ORIGIN: 2010s ** On the scene ** DEFINITION: Actively participating in gay social life ORIGIN: Mid-late 20th-century bar culture ** Open ** DEFINITION: Non-monogamous ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Open to ** DEFINITION: Willing to try (kinks, types, etc.) ORIGIN: App culture ** Orbiting ** DEFINITION: Watching someone’s stories but not engaging ORIGIN: 2010s social media ** Otter ** DEFINITION: Slim, hairy gay man ORIGIN: 2000s, bear subculture ** Out ** DEFINITION: Openly gay ORIGIN: 20th-century adaptation of “coming out” ** Pageant queen ** DEFINITION: Queen focused on pageant competitions ORIGIN: Drag pageant circuits ** Palone ** DEFINITION: Woman ORIGIN: Polari ** Pansy ** DEFINITION: Effeminate gay man; insult tied to “sissy” ORIGIN: 1920s “Pansy Craze” in US nightlife ** Period ** DEFINITION: Emphatic end to statement ORIGIN: 2010s, AAVE/Southern Black gay slang ** Pig ** DEFINITION: Man who enjoys intense or “dirty” sex ORIGIN: Late 20th-century kink/leather communities ** Pig pit ** DEFINITION: Group kink space ORIGIN: Leather scene ** Pig sex ** DEFINITION: Intense, uninhibited, often kinky sex ORIGIN: 1990s-2000s gay leather/BDSM scenes ** Ping me ** DEFINITION: Message me on an app ORIGIN: 2000s messaging culture ** Pink dollar ** DEFINITION: Economic power of gay consumers ORIGIN: Late 20th-century marketing slang ** Pinkwashing ** DEFINITION: Using LGBTQ friendliness to distract from other issues ORIGIN: 21st-century political slang ** Piss play ** DEFINITION: Watersports kink ORIGIN: Kink ** Plant Gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man obsessed with houseplants ORIGIN: 2020s meme culture ** Platinum gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man with even less heterosexual experience than “gold star” ORIGIN: Late 20th-century joking slang ** Platinum star ** DEFINITION: Gay man born by C-section who never had sex with women ORIGIN: 2000s, from Will & Grace joke ** PNP (Party & Play) ** DEFINITION: Sex + meth/party drugs ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Pocket gay ** DEFINITION: Very short gay man (often joking) ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s slang ** Poly ** DEFINITION: Polyamorous ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Poof / Poofter ** DEFINITION: Slur for gay man (more UK) ORIGIN: 20th-century British slang ** Porpoise ** DEFINITION: Chubby, smooth gay man ORIGIN: 2010s, US gay body type slang ** Potato queen ** DEFINITION: Asian man attracted to white men ORIGIN: Late 20th-century fetishizing slang ** Power Bottom ** DEFINITION: Energetic / assertive receptive partner ORIGIN: 2000s US gay slang ** Power top ** DEFINITION: Assertive, dominant top ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s ** Poz ** DEFINITION: HIV-positive person ORIGIN: 1990s, from positive ** Poz party ** DEFINITION: Gathering of HIV-positive men ORIGIN: Late 20th-century HIV communities ** Poz4Poz ** DEFINITION: HIV-positive seeking same ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Poz-friendly ** DEFINITION: Open to HIV-positive partners ORIGIN: 1990s–2000s dating/hookup profiles ** Prawn ** DEFINITION: Fantastic body, unattractive face ORIGIN: Recent, UK/Australia? ** PrEP / On PrEP ** DEFINITION: Taking PrEP medication ORIGIN: ** Prep-friendly ** DEFINITION: Open to partners on PrEP ORIGIN: 2010s ** Primal ** DEFINITION: Animalistic kink style ORIGIN: 2000s ** Protein Gay ** DEFINITION: Gym-focused gay man ORIGIN: 2010s slang ** Punk ** DEFINITION: Smaller, younger gay man forced submissive ORIGIN: Prison slang, mid-20th century ** Pup ** DEFINITION: Gay man into puppy play kink ORIGIN: 2000s, US leather/BDSM community ** Queen ** DEFINITION: Flamboyant or effeminate gay man ORIGIN: Early 20th century, slur reclaimed ** Queer ** DEFINITION: Umbrella term for LGBTQ; reclaimed from slur ORIGIN: 1890s slur → reclaimed 1990s AIDS era ** Queerplatonic ** DEFINITION: Deep non-romantic partnership ORIGIN: 2010s ** Read ** DEFINITION: Calling someone out sassily / humorously insult ORIGIN: 1980s ballroom / Paris Is Burning ** Realness ** DEFINITION: Authentic self / convincingly embodying a category ORIGIN: 1980s ballroom culture ** Red Flag ** DEFINITION: Warning sign in dating/personality ORIGIN: 2020s dating slang ** Rice queen ** DEFINITION: Man (often white) attracted to Asian men ORIGIN: Late 20th-century fetishizing slang ** Rigger ** DEFINITION: Person who ties rope (bondage top) ORIGIN: Rope bondage ** Rope bottom ** DEFINITION: Person who enjoys being tied ORIGIN: BDSM / rope bondage ** Roster ** DEFINITION: List of dating/hookup prospects ORIGIN: 2020s slang ** Rough trade ** DEFINITION: Dangerous or hyper-masculine sexual partner ORIGIN: 20th-century gay bar/street slang ** Rubber pup ** DEFINITION: Pup in rubber/latex gear ORIGIN: Kink ** Rubberman ** DEFINITION: Man into rubber/latex ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Safeword ** DEFINITION: Word to stop play ORIGIN: BDSM ** Sapiosexual ** DEFINITION: Attracted to intelligence ORIGIN: 2010s ** Scene ** DEFINITION: Kink session / BDSM environment ORIGIN: BDSM culture ** Scene queen ** DEFINITION: Person heavily involved in nightlife/club scene ORIGIN: Late 20th-century club culture ** Scruff guy ** DEFINITION: Man using Scruff app; often bearded/masc ORIGIN: 2010s app culture ** Sero-neutral ** DEFINITION: No preference on HIV status ORIGIN: 2010s ** Serosort ** DEFINITION: Choose partners based on HIV status ORIGIN: Public health / community slang ** Serve ** DEFINITION: Presenting oneself, especially a look ORIGIN: 1980s ballroom ** Service bottom ** DEFINITION: Bottom who prioritizes pleasing the top ORIGIN: 2000s kink/sex-positive circles ** Service top ** DEFINITION: Top who prioritizes sub’s pleasure ORIGIN: 2000s kink/sex-positive circles ** Serving ** DEFINITION: Presenting a strong look or vibe ORIGIN: Ballroom → mainstream ** Shade ** DEFINITION: Subtle or indirect insult ORIGIN: 1980s ballroom culture ** Shadow pic ** DEFINITION: Dark, obscured photo (for privacy) ORIGIN: App privacy culture ** Shadowban ** DEFINITION: Hidden from others (app/social) ORIGIN: 2010s ** Sickening ** DEFINITION: Incredibly amazing ORIGIN: 2010s drag ** Side ** DEFINITION: Gay man who prefers not to have anal sex ORIGIN: 2010s non-top/bottom discourse ** Side eye ** DEFINITION: Subtle disapproval expression ORIGIN: 2010s ** Side piece ** DEFINITION: Secondary / casual partner ORIGIN: 2000s–present ** Sir ** DEFINITION: Dominant title (leather/BDSM) ORIGIN: Leather/BDSM ** Sis (queer usage) ** DEFINITION: Friendly address, often between gay men ORIGIN: AAVE and queer slang ** Sissy ** DEFINITION: Effeminate boy/man; insult ORIGIN: Long-standing English insult ** Size queen ** DEFINITION: Gay man who prefers large penises ORIGIN: Mid-late 20th century gay sexual slang ** Slay ** DEFINITION: Doing something exceptionally well ORIGIN: 1970s-1980s ballroom; popularized by RuPaul/Beyonce ** Sling ** DEFINITION: Leather/metal sex sling ORIGIN: Leather scene ** Sling Pig ** DEFINITION: Person who loves sling play ORIGIN: Kink ** Snow queen ** DEFINITION: Gay man (often Black) attracted to white men ORIGIN: 1990s US ** Snowballing ** DEFINITION: Passing semen mouth-to-mouth ORIGIN: 1990s–present ** Sober only ** DEFINITION: No drugs/alcohol ORIGIN: 2010s–present ** Soft block ** DEFINITION: Subtle block/unfollow ORIGIN: 2010s ** Soft boy / Soft Gay ** DEFINITION: Sensitive, emotional, gentle gay man ORIGIN: 2010s–2020s aesthetics ** Soft Launch ** DEFINITION: Subtle introduction of a new partner online ORIGIN: 2020s social media ** Spill the Tea ** DEFINITION: Reveal gossip ORIGIN: Ballroom culture ** Spiritual gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man focused on spirituality/wellness ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s ** Squirrel friends ** DEFINITION: Group of gay friends ORIGIN: 2010s, US drag culture ** Squish ** DEFINITION: Innocent, non-romantic infatuation ORIGIN: Recent ** Stats? ** DEFINITION: Asking for height/weight/age ORIGIN: Early hookup apps ** STEM gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man in science/tech/engineering/math ORIGIN: 2010s–2020s ** Sticky rice ** DEFINITION: Gay Asian man attracted to other Asian men ORIGIN: 1990s US/Asian communities ** Story thirst ** DEFINITION: Sexy Instagram story ORIGIN: 2010s ** Straight-acting ** DEFINITION: Gay man who presents as stereotypically straight ORIGIN: Late 20th-century bar/personal-ad slang ** Sub ** DEFINITION: Submissive partner ORIGIN: BDSM culture ** Sup? ** DEFINITION: Minimalist opener ORIGIN: Early app culture ** Swish ** DEFINITION: Effeminate ORIGIN: US, mid-20th century ** Switch ** DEFINITION: Enjoys both top and bottom / dom and sub ORIGIN: 1990s BDSM/gay sex ** Tap ** DEFINITION: Quick like/interest signal on apps ORIGIN: Grindr/Scruff feature ** Tea ** DEFINITION: Gossip or truth ORIGIN: Early 20th century tearooms → 1990s ballroom ** Tea dance ** DEFINITION: Daytime dance event, often Sunday afternoon ORIGIN: Mid-20th-century gay social events ** Tea room ** DEFINITION: Public restroom used for anonymous sex ORIGIN: Mid-20th century US slang ** Tea-room queen ** DEFINITION: Man who frequents tea rooms for sex ORIGIN: Mid-20th century ** Thirst Trap ** DEFINITION: Sexy photo posted to attract attention ORIGIN: 2010s social media ** Thirsty ** DEFINITION: Desperate for attention or sex ORIGIN: AAVE / internet slang ** Tomgirl ** DEFINITION: Boy with feminine traits ORIGIN: Recent (opposite of tomboy) ** Tongzhi ** DEFINITION: LGBTQ member in Chinese ORIGIN: 1980s, from "comrade" ** Top ** DEFINITION: Dominant or inserting partner ORIGIN: Mid-20th century sexual positions ** Torso pic ** DEFINITION: Shirtless body photo ORIGIN: App culture ** Trade ** DEFINITION: Masculine-presenting hookup partner (historic & modern) ORIGIN: Early 20th-century Polari/US → 2000s apps ** Trade queen ** DEFINITION: Man obsessed with picking up trade ORIGIN: Bar slang ** Traveling ** DEFINITION: Looking for hookups while traveling ORIGIN: App culture ** Twilight ** DEFINITION: To leave a bar/scene quietly or fade out socially ORIGIN: Localized bar slang ** Twink ** DEFINITION: Young, slim, smooth gay man ORIGIN: 1960s-1970s (possibly from Twinkie snack) ** Twink death ** DEFINITION: Idea that a twink loses desirability with age ORIGIN: 2010s internet slang ** Twunk ** DEFINITION: Muscular twink (twink + hunk) ORIGIN: 2000s–2010s ** U=U ** DEFINITION: Undetectable = Untransmittable ORIGIN: ** UB2 ** DEFINITION: “You be too” (HIV-negative) ORIGIN: App shorthand ** Unblock ** DEFINITION: Reverse block ORIGIN: App feature ** Uncuffing Season ** DEFINITION: Spring breakups ORIGIN: 2010s ** Undetectable (U=U) ** DEFINITION: HIV viral load undetectable ORIGIN: 2010s ** Unicorn ** DEFINITION: Bisexual person, often mythical / rare ORIGIN: 2010s poly/LGBTQ+ slang ** Vada ** DEFINITION: To look at someone ORIGIN: Mid-20th century Polari (from Italian "vedere") ** Verified ** DEFINITION: Profile verified ORIGIN: App feature ** Vers ** DEFINITION: Versatile in top/bottom ORIGIN: 1990s abbreviation ** Village queen ** DEFINITION: Gay man associated with NYC Greenwich Village ORIGIN: Mid-20th century NYC regional ** Vogue / Voguing ** DEFINITION: Stylized dance form from ballroom culture ORIGIN: 1970s–80s Harlem ballroom ** Voyeur ** DEFINITION: Likes watching others ORIGIN: Kink ** Walrus ** DEFINITION: Older, chubby, hairy gay man ORIGIN: 2010s US gay body type slang ** WeHo gay ** DEFINITION: Gay man associated with West Hollywood scene ORIGIN: 1990s–present LA regional ** Werk ** DEFINITION: Exclamation of approval; to perform fabulously ORIGIN: Drag culture; popularized by RuPaul ** Wolf ** DEFINITION: Lean, muscular, hairy gay man ORIGIN: 2000s bear subculture ** Woof ** DEFINITION: Scruff “like” signal ORIGIN: Scruff app ** Yas / Yass ** DEFINITION: Emphatic yes / enthusiastic approval ORIGIN: 1980s ballroom → viral 2010s ** Zaddy ** DEFINITION: Stylish, attractive older man ORIGIN: 2010s US, blend of "zazzy" and daddy ** Zhuzh / Zhoosh ** DEFINITION: To style, spruce up, or improve appearance ORIGIN: Polari → queer/fashion circles

I can relate to that! There are times a guy that I though was hot or a nice dick turns me off the moment he opens his mouth and starts talking and I can't get away fast enough

Who'll be there? I fully intend to fuck, breed, suck, felch my way through the darkrooms and horsefair!

If he wants to fuck me, he can, no restrictions

I bottom knowing and wanting a studs load. knowing he’s gonna put his dna in me is enough of a warning

My preference is having the bottom bent over, taking loads, one after another after another, and I just squat down, feast on his hole, stand up and start rutting. Speaking isn't necessary, but if he does some drrrty talk, I'll respond in kind.

Naked, but as a bottom, i 🩷 jockstraps, too.

Hey guys, I just want to say thank you to everyone who commented. Your reactions, encouragement, and thoughtful words genuinely inspired me to continue. I hope the next part lives up to your expectations. I always appreciate hearing whether you liked it… 😊 Part 10: The STD Clinic's 'Good News' and a Doctor's Toxic Confession The days after the hotel with Mark are a slow-motion torture of hope and disappointment. You don't feel changed. You don't feel converted. You expected something—a profound shift, a physical marker, the "fuck flu" you'd read about in hushed, excited tones online. You monitor yourself meticulously, a daily ritual of self-betrayal. You take your temperature in the morning, check your lymph nodes in the mirror, searching for the slightest sign of swelling, the faintest flush of fever. Nothing. Each day that passes with your body maddeningly normal is another spike of crushing disappointment. The reality is that conversion is silent, invisible, and utterly indifferent to your desperate, pathetic need for proof. You scour the forums again, this time not for thrills, but for reassurance. "It can take weeks," one post says. "Some people never get the flu," another offers, a cold comfort that feels more like a curse. The waiting becomes a form of purgatory. The intimate, ritualistic act with Mark, which was supposed to be the culmination, now feels like it might have been just another hollow fantasy. Eventually, you can't stand it anymore. It has been more than a month since the hotel breeding session with Mark. The uncertainty is worse than any negative result. You have to know. You drive back to the STD clinic, a place that now feels less like a source of shame and more like the only confessional that can offer you absolution or damnation. In the waiting room, you're a different man from the one who sat here before. You're not here to prevent a possibility; you're here to confirm a prayer. You pray you don't get the young doctor. You don’t want to be lectured by a boy who could easily be your son. You want a stranger, someone neutral, a detached clinician who will just draw your blood and read the results. But of course, it's him. Your name is called. You follow him down the same stark white corridor, and he gestures you into the same small, windowless office. "Back for your check-up, I assume," he says, not looking up from the file. "Your PEP pills empty?" "Yeah," you lie, the word feeling like sandpaper in your throat. "Bottle's empty." He nods, satisfied. "Good. We'll do a rapid test today for some immediate peace of mind, and send the full serology to the lab. The results will not be definitive, but this should give us a strong indicator." He prepares the blood draw, his movements practiced and cold. He fills a vial, then uses a small dropper to place a drop of your blood onto a small plastic cassette. "Alright," he says, setting a timer. "Fifteen minutes. We'll call you back in." You walk out of the office and back into the waiting room and sit. Your bladder stirs, a dull, insistent pressure from the water you drank while waiting. You need to piss. You scan the waiting room, a purgatory of shared secrets. A young guy, maybe twenty, sits with his knees pressed together, chewing his fingernails, his face a mask of pure terror. You peg him as a scare, probably a broken condom. He's praying for a negative. Across from him, a burly, tattooed man in a dirty tank top scrolls on his phone, looking bored. He's here for his routine check-up, you think. He already has his answer. In the corner, a handsome man in a suit that costs more than your car stares at a fixed point on the wall, his jaw tight. He's the classic closet case, probably here every three months after a lunch-break hookup at the club downtown. He's praying his wife doesn't find the clinic number on his phone bill. Each of them is a story, a potential carrier, a fellow traveler. You look at the burly, tattooed man and imagine him breeding the scared kid with a poz load that would make the boy's terror turn to tears of joy. You picture the man in the suit on his knees in a back alley, worshipping the anonymous, toxic cock of a stranger he'll never see again. You wonder which of them holds the gift you so desperately crave, which one would be merciful enough to share it. You think of your husband, at work right now, probably oblivious. He has no idea you're here. He has no idea you know about his own bugchasing activities at the local cruising grounds. The need to piss becomes too much. You get up and walk to the men's restroom. Inside, the air is thick with the sterile smell of disinfectant trying and failing to mask the underlying odor of piss and anxiety. You step into the stall at the back, unzip, and let go, the stream a welcome relief. As you stand there, your eyes drift to the graffiti on the tiled wall dividing the stalls. Amid the crude drawings and phone numbers for cheap lays, one symbol stands out, freshly scratched and aggressive: a biohazard symbol. Below it, a mobile phone number is etched into the grout. You stare at it, your mind momentarily forgetting the test, the doctor, everything. It feels like a sign, a secret invitation left just for you. You finish, shake off, and zip up. You wash your hands, catching your own reflection in the mirror—pale, anxious, and desperate. You return to the waiting room and finally take a seat. The minutes crawl by. Fifteen minutes pass. The nurse hasn't called your name. Twenty. Thirty. The longer you wait, the more your anxiety begins to curdle and twist. The initial fear of a positive result slowly morphs into a sick, excited certainty. They're keeping you this long because the test was positive. The doctor is preparing, maybe even calling in a counselor. This is it. The good news. You're not scared anymore. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, a prayer of thanks on your lips for the gift you're about to receive. Finally, after thirty-seven agonizing minutes, your name is called. When the nurse calls your name again, you follow her back to the same office. The doctor is holding the test cassette, a single, stark line visible in the results window. "Negative," he says, his voice flat, professional, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. He's happy to give you the "good" news. "The rapid test is negative. As expected. The full panel will confirm, but you can breathe easy." The word hits you like a physical blow. Negative. All that hope, all that sick excitement, curdles into a vast, crushing disappointment. You feel the blood drain from your face. He looks at you, expecting to see a wave of relief wash over your face. He expects gratitude. He sees nothing. You feel nothing but a hollow, crushing void. Your expression is a blank wall. He frowns slightly, leaning forward. "You're not relieved," he says. It's not a question. "Why aren't you relieved? Did you want it to be positive?" His directness is a slap. You can't answer. You just stare at the desk. "Look at me," he says, his voice losing its clinical softness, gaining an edge. "You came back here. You were praying for a positive result, weren't you? That's why you're not relieved. Tell me about the fantasy. Is it the risk? The [banned word]? Do you get off on the idea of being sick? Help me understand what makes a man throw away a life-saving medication." "Answer me," he presses, his voice gaining an edge. "Did you take the PEP? You told me the bottle was empty." "I flushed them," you confess, the words barely a whisper. "I flushed them down the toilet the day I got home." The silence that follows is absolute and terrifying. When he finally moves, it's with a sudden, violent energy. He shoves his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor with a screech. He stands, pacing the small space like a caged animal. Even in his rage, he's magnificent. The anger flushes his chest, making the thin fabric of his scrubs cling to his sculpted torso. His power is palpable, a raw, dominant energy that makes your own cock ache with need. "You flushed them?" he roars. "I gave you a get-out-of-jail-free card! A goddamn miracle of modern medicine, and you flushed it? Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you've done? You think this is some hot fantasy? You think living with this is a fucking turn-on?" He stops pacing, right in front of you, his hands gripping the edge of his desk, leaning into your space. This is it—the exact same position he was in when he lectured you before, but this time the air is thick with his personal rage. "You have no fucking clue," he spits, his voice cracking with a pain so raw it's almost unbearable. "You think I stand here and lecture you from some ivory tower of health? I'm poz. I'm fucking toxic." The word hangs in the air between you, a bomb detonating in the small room. Your eyes widen. "My partner," he continues, his voice cracking. "He fucked around behind my back. Constantly. Unprotected. Never getting tested, bringing home every bug he could find. He didn't care. He got infected, didn't know. Gave it to me. The man I loved. He's gone. And I'm left with this. This life sentence." He taps his chest, a sharp, angry gesture. "And the meds? The insomnia, the anxiety, the cognitive fog... I can't think straight. The nausea and abdominal cramps are so bad I can't keep food down for days. So I stop. I've been off meds for over two years, just monitoring my CD4. Will only go back on meds if absolutely necessary. I’m so toxic at the moment, I’m frightened of myself." Your cock, which had wilted with the negative result, is now rock-hard, straining against your jeans. You want to fuck the pain right out of him, to breed him with your own negative seed and feel his toxic body accept it. You want him to fuck the fear into you, to make you feel what he feels. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving. In his rage, he's stepped even closer. His scrub pants are right in front of your face. You can't help it. Your eyes drop. You can see the distinct, heavy outline of his cock, his balls. Full of the bugs. He sees it. He follows your gaze down and then back up to your face. The rage in his eyes curdles into something else. A cold, profound disgust. "You're staring!" he accuses, his voice a low, dangerous hiss. "You're staring at my crotch." Before you can react, he moves. His hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. His grip is iron. He pulls your hand forward and slams it palm-down against his crotch, forcing you to cup his massive, rigid bulge through the thin fabric. You feel the heat of him, the solid weight of his cock and balls. And you feel something else—cold, hard metal. A thick, heavy ring encircling the base of his rigid cock making it feel even thicker and more potent. It makes his bulge even more prominent, a clear, undeniable sign that he is a top, his cock perpetually primed to blow his toxic load anytime he chooses. He feels your desperate, pathetic gratitude in the way your hand trembles against him. He sees the pure, unadulterated longing in your eyes. And something in him snaps. "You want this?" he snarls, his face inches from yours. "Yes, they are full of bugs," his voice a venomous whisper. "My VL came back only yesterday over 800,000. You want this? This is not an offer; it's a challenge." In a single, violent motion, he yanks you up from the chair. He spins you around and shoves you face-first against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of you. His hands are rough, tearing at your jeans, wrenching them and your underwear down to your knees. You hear the tear of his scrubs, the snap of elastic, and then you feel it—the thick, flared head of his cock, burning hot against your bare ass. "This is what you're asking for," he growls, and then he pushes into you in one long, brutal stroke. A strangled cry escapes your lips. It's pain and it's ecstasy, a fulfillment so sudden and overwhelming it whites out your vision. He doesn't wait for you to adjust. He fucks you with two, three deep, punishing strokes, his hips slamming against your ass, his body a furnace of rage behind you. And then, as suddenly as he entered, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and gaping. You hear a guttural groan and feel the wet heat of his cum splashing across your ass cheeks, a thick, coating of his toxic seed marking you from the outside. He's panting behind you, the sound ragged and broken. "You don't deserve my gift yet," he hisses, his voice raw. "You don't yet know what you are asking for." He shoves you hard, propelling you forward. "Get out," he whispers, his voice dangerously quiet. "Get the fuck out of my office!"

Part 9: Reconnecting with Mark: Taming the monster to make one line two The message hangs on your phone for a week, a dark promise: "I know what you did! I am back in town next week... We need to talk!" When the day arrives, you don't feel fear. You feel a sense of calm, of arrival. You're going back to the scene of your greatest disappointment to maybe finally get what you originally came for. Mark opens the hotel door. He's exactly as you remember him from that first moment: shirtless, in just a pair of well-worn jeans that hug his powerful thighs, his toned, hairy chest a canvas of masculine perfection. His bare feet are nicely manicured, a subtle sign of his fastidious nature. He looks... softer. More at peace. It doesn't feel like meeting someone you've only been with once. It feels like coming home to a good friend with whom you share a deep, unspoken connection. "Hey," he says, his smile genuine and warm. "Come on in." The lighting is dim, music is playing low. The air in the room is warm and thick with the rich, earthy scent of sandalwood and leather—Mark's cologne, a smell that is both grounding and dangerously masculine. It's a scent you immediately decide you could get used to. On the table are two glasses of red wine and a pre-rolled joint, an offer waiting to be accepted. You sit, you smoke, you drink. The wine is a rich, velvety Cabernet, its dark fruit flavors filling your mouth, a taste of blackberry and a hint of dark chocolate. The weed is high-quality, and the smoke fills your lungs, smooth and sweet, with a faint, skunky undertone that promises a potent, hazy float, melting away the last vestiges of your anxiety. The wine and weed work in tandem, a warm wave of relaxation that loosens your muscles and softens the edges of the room. You're sitting on the couch, and the space between you feels charged. Mark takes the joint from your fingers, his knuckles brushing against yours. The touch is deliberate, a small spark in the hazy air. He takes a slow drag, his eyes never leaving yours, and then leans in, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He exhales a plume of sweet smoke not away from you, but towards your lips, a shared breath that feels more intimate than a kiss. That's all it takes. You close the distance. Your first kiss is slow, deep, and tastes of red wine and cannabis. It's not a frantic kiss, but a settling one, like two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. His hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you gently but firmly. You melt into him, your body molding against his. The world outside this couch, this room, ceases to exist. You break for air, and he pulls you closer, guiding you to lean back against his chest. His arm wraps around you, a solid, comforting weight. You can feel the steady, strong beat of his heart against your back. His other hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours, and he just holds them. There's no urgency, only a profound sense of coming home. You rest your head against his shoulder, nuzzling into the warm, crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. You stay like that for a long time, just listening to the music and the soft sound of your breathing. His free hand begins to move, tracing slow, lazy circles on your stomach through your shirt. Each pass of his palm is a brand, a quiet claim. His touch is a question, and your body's response— the soft sigh that escapes your lips, the way you arch into his hand— is the answer. He shifts, turning you both to face each other. His eyes are heavy-lidded, shining with a gentle, uncomplicated lust. He reaches for the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head in one smooth, deliberate motion. Your hands explore each other's torsos—mapping the solid muscle, the sensitive skin. Your chests press together, skin on skin, a friction that is both comforting and electrifying. Soon, your jeans and his are the only barriers left. He stands, taking your hand and pulling you up with him. He undoes his belt and lets his jeans fall, kicking them aside. He's commando, and his magnificent cock hangs thick and heavy between his legs, a promise of what's to come. You follow his lead, shedding your own pants until you are both standing in the dim light, wearing nothing but your vulnerability and your desire. It's in this state of raw, relaxed honesty that he finally speaks, his voice a low murmur that vibrates through you. "You took it," he says softly. You meet his gaze, your own voice raw with the memory. "I was so disappointed," you confess. "You were perfect. You were everything I thought I wanted because you were safe. But when you pulled out that condom... I realized that's not what I wanted anymore. And then when you told me you were poz... and you wouldn't... I was so desperate to have what you were denying me that I had to take a piece of it." As you speak, you see it. His cock, which had been hanging thick and heavy between his legs, begins to stir. It slowly lifts, hardening with every word you say, until it's standing fully erect, a thick, rigid column of flesh pointing directly at you. A hard cock never lies. Your confession is arousing him deeply. Mark's smile fades, replaced by a look of profound vulnerability. "You think I wasn't tempted?" he says, his voice low. "You have no idea how much I wanted to breed you. To see you walk out of here carrying my load. But I couldn't. It was too new for me. My diagnosis... my viral load... it was a monster I was still terrified of. I wasn't ready to be that monster for someone else. I was afraid of what it would turn me into." He looks at you, his eyes clear. "You were braver than I was. You ran towards the fire. I was still running from it." He reaches into his nightstand drawer and pulls out two small, flat boxes. "But things are different now," he says. "For both of us. And I need to know that you're sure about what you want. For my own conscience... for my own peace. I need us both to be clear-eyed about what we're doing here." He opens one box, revealing a quick HIV test. "I need us to both know where we stand. Right now." He does his first. You watch, your heart pounding, as the drop of his blood travels down the test strip. A dark, forbidden impulse flashes through you. As he's about to wipe his finger, you gently take his hand. Before he can react, you lean in and lick the tiny smear of residual blood from his fingertip. It's coppery, metallic, primal. He lets out a sharp, shuddering breath, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and arousal. His hard cock bobs in response, a thick bead of precum welling up at its slit. It's a promise. A taste of things to come. You both watch the two lines appear, dark and immediate. Positive. He looks at it, not with fear, but with a sense of confirmation. A proud, immutable fact. He places it on the desk, a physical testament. There is no ambiguity here, no room to ignore what is at stake. It's a definitive statement of his body. Then it's your turn. Your fingers tremble as you prick your own finger. You squeeze the drop onto the test strip. The minutes feel like an eternity. This is it. The first tangible proof of your journey. A single line appears. Negative. Still negative. A wave of something washes over you—not relief, but a strange, hollow disappointment. You're still on the outside looking in. And yet, your own cock is as hard as his, a rigid, aching testament to the fact that your body knows exactly what it wants, regardless of the test result. Mark looks from your solitary, stark line to his own pair of lines, sitting side-by-side on the desk like a grim, undeniable prophecy. The contrast is a physical thing. Your lone mark of clean health next to his double-line signature of the virus. He looks from the tests back to your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. His gaze drops down, taking in the sight of both your hard cocks, standing at attention like two soldiers ready for battle. "Now that we see it, laid out so clearly... are you still sure?" he asks, his voice low and serious. "Do you want to cross that line with me, as much as I want to take you there?" You nod, your voice firm. "More than anything." A slow, beautiful smile spreads across his lips. It's not a smile of pity; it's a smile of pure, predatory delight. "Good," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "That means I get to be the one. I get to be your ground zero. I get to be the one who changes you. Thank you for choosing me." He stands and holds out his hand. "Let's not have any more disappointments," he says. "Let's do what we both wanted to do that night." He leads you to the bed. The atmosphere is reverent, almost sacred. You sit on the edge, and he kneels before you. He looks up at you, his eyes full of adoration, and then leans in, pressing his face against your chest. You feel his hot breath against your skin a moment before his tongue makes a slow, wet trail up your sternum. It's an act of worship. You pull him up onto the bed with you, your hands finally free to explore the body you've only dreamed of. Your fingers slide over the solid muscle of his shoulders and down his arms. And then, you feel it. His chest hair. It's softer than it looks, a dense, wiry thicket that you run your fingers through, a living carpet of masculinity that tickles and teases with every shift of his weight. You bury your face in it, breathing in his clean, musky scent mixed with the sandalwood of his cologne. It's even better than you remembered. He moans, his hands roaming your back as you explore him. He pushes you onto your back, his body covering yours, and that soft, wiry hair becomes a delicious friction against your own smooth skin, a constant, tantalizing reminder of his raw, masculine power. You're both hard, your cocks trapped between your bodies, kissing deeply, your tongues exploring. He reaches down, his fingers gathering the slick fluid. He finds your PA, the heavy steel ring you wear, and he moans his appreciation. "So beautiful," he murmurs. He uses his precum as lube, coating your piercing, his fingers rolling the heavy steel, tugging gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He pushes more of his fluid onto the ring, using his slickness to coat your own slit, the sensitive, thin skin tingling with the intimate violation. You're leaking now, too, your fluids mixing with his. He takes his cock in his hand and slides it up and down your crack again, coating you. His cockhead, slick and insistent, knocks at your backdoor. He pauses, letting it throb against you, and you feel another pulse of his hot precum ooze directly into your opening, getting your asslips slick, making them swell with anticipation. You can't help it. You push back slightly, extending your lips, a silent, physical invitation for him to enter. "Is this what you really want?" he whispers, his voice a low growl. "You want me to breed you? To make you poz? Once you have those two lines, you can never go back to one. Are you sure?" "Yes," you breathe, the word a prayer. "I'm sure. Please, Mark. Convert me." He begins to push. The entry is a slow, deliberate sinking, a moment of mutual surrender. The feeling is radically different from last time. There's no condom, no sterile barrier preventing you from fully connecting. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock, the thick, prominent lines protruding from his shaft, a topographical map of his desire. You feel the distinct, flared edge of his head as it rubs against your prostate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You feel his cock pulling on your asslips with each backstroke, a possessive, intimate tug. He pushes deeper, and you feel him press against your inner sphincter. A sharp, sudden pain makes you gasp. "Easy... easy now," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "Breathe. I'm there. Not going anywhere. Let it drool... slick you up. Push back... let me in." You do as he says, and with a final, deliberate push, he's through—moaning deep in your ear. He sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he's fully seated, his heavy balls resting against yours. He stays there for a moment, letting you adjust, letting you feel the weight and the heat of him, a perfect, living presence inside you. The first fuck is slow and emotional, a correction of the past. He moves in you with a gentle, rhythmic grace, his eyes locked on yours, his hands stroking your face. It's about healing the disappointment, about replacing the memory of the condom with the reality of his flesh. But the climax is what truly matters. He begins to move faster, his breathing becoming ragged. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, getting even harder as his thrusts become more urgent, more demanding. He slows his thrusts to a maddening, teasing rhythm, his eyes boring into yours, searching. "Are you... sure?" he groans, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Tell me now. Pull out? Once this... it's done. You're mine. Forever." "Don't..." The refusal is instant, fierce. "Don't you dare." You grip his arms. "Breed me. Mark. Give me..." You swallow hard. "...that toxic load." "God. God, I want to," he moans, his forehead resting against yours. "But... wanna enjoy this. Savor it. Okay? Slow down... just for a minute? Relish it?" You can only nod, your breath caught in your throat. "Good," he whispers, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He begins to move again, but not with the rhythmic thrusts of before. Now he's grinding, circling his hips, stretching you from the inside. "Let me stretch you... little longer," he murmurs, his voice a low, hypnotic rumble. "Open you up. Tear you... just a little. Make you perfect. Warm home... for my babies... so they can enter... even better." His voice drops even lower, a possessive growl against your ear. "Remember? The monster? I was so afraid? Not anymore. And now... gonna set him free. Inside you." His words are a litany of beautiful filth, driving you both to a higher plane of arousal. "Can feel it," he continues, his voice thick with lust. "My toxic seed... it’s boiling up. Spilling into your guts… Not just cum… Everything… Every viral particle… Will paint your insides... mark you. Inside out. Soon... every drop... poz. Your own load... turns toxic for me." The idea is so intoxicating, so real, that your body arches against him, a silent plea for more. "Please, Mark," you beg. "Please… Give it to me." He pulls back almost all the way, leaving just the tip of his cockhead inside you, teasing your swollen rim. "Tell me," he commands, his voice dominant. "What do you want? Tell me… you want my poz seed." "I want it," you repeat, your voice a desperate chant. "I want it so bad… All inside me. Want you to convert me… Be yours." That's all it takes. With a guttural roar that seems to come from the depths of his soul, he slams back into you, hilt-deep. "That's what I wanted... wanted to hear," he growls. "What I wanted to do... last time... only didn't dare." And now, it happens. His cock pulses, a powerful, rhythmic throb deep inside your guts. A searing, wet heat floods you as he roars his release. It's not just cum; it's a transfer. A gift. A sacrament. You feel every spurt. "Feel it... Feel my high-viral-load... invading you," he gasps. "Million toxic particles... spreading... connect us... forever." It's the most intimate, profound moment of your life. Your own cock erupts without being touched, spraying your chest as your ass milks him for every last drop. It's equally special for him; you see it in his eyes, a look of awe and possessive love. You relax, coming down from the intensity of your pozzing high. He collapses on top of you, his body heavy and solid, his heart hammering against your chest. For a long moment, you just lie there, tangled together, breathing in the scent of sex and sweat. Then he shifts, rolling to the side but keeping an arm draped heavily over you. You collapse back against the bed, your skin slick with sweat, and feel the cool, crisp percale of the hotel sheets against your back. The high thread count is a luxurious, stark contrast to the raw, filthy act that just transpired, a small island of civilization in the sea of depravity you've willingly drowned in. The room is quiet except for your soft, shared breaths. But Mark isn't done. He moves down the bed, his movements purposeful. He gently pushes your legs apart, and you feel his hot breath on your still-sensitive hole. You're swollen, puffy, and well-used, a warm, slick trickle of his precious load slowly oozing out of you. He doesn't just wipe it away. He lowers his head and you feel a hot, wet shock as his tongue laps against your swollen rim. It's not a hungry, devouring act, but a slow, reverent one. He's giving you a well-deserved, cooling massage with his tongue, lapping at your stretched, tender flesh. He's careful, taking his time, using the tip of his tongue to gently push every stray drop of his cum back inside you, as if not a single drop is allowed to be wasted. It's a possessive, tender act of worship that makes you feel cherished and claimed in equal measure. After he's satisfied that you're clean and full, he moves back up your body. He leans in and kisses you, and you immediately taste it—the salty, musky flavor of his own cum. But there's something else. A new, underlying note. A faint, distinct metallic taste that you instantly recognize. The taste of blood. Not from him, but from you. A tiny, intimate tear. The microscopic proof that he's done enough damage, that the final barrier has been breached. It's not proof of conversion, but the proof of opportunity. The gateway is open, and now his potent seed can do its work. You both freeze for a fraction of a second, the realization passing between you in that shared, intimate moment. His eyes lock with yours, and they are blazing with a triumphant, possessive fire. He knows you've tasted it. He knows you know. The damage is done. The seed is planted, and now it will grow inside you. He crushes his mouth to yours, the kiss no longer just tender, but fierce and celebratory. His tongue pushes into your mouth, sharing the taste of his successful load with you in a deep, filthy, perfect kiss. As you're still tangled in that kiss, you feel his fingers drift down, tracing the curve of your ass until they find your hole. He gently circles your sensitive rim, gathering the last of the fluid. Then, with a tender, deliberate pressure, he begins to massage it back into you. His fingers push his own seed against your skin, massaging it deeper, into your gut. The pad of his finger finds your prostate, still swollen and sensitive, and he presses against it, sending a deep, resonant wave of pleasure through you. You gasp, your body arching slightly as a smaller, but just as profound, orgasm shudders through you, a slow, deep pulse that leaves you trembling. He's breathing deeply in your ear, a low, satisfied rumble. Finally, Mark reaches for the joint and the lighter, sparking it up. He takes a long, slow drag, his chest expanding. Instead of passing it to you, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. He exhales a thick plume of sweet smoke directly into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in, a shared, hazy breath that feels more intimate than words. You take the joint from his fingers, take your own drag, and return the favor, leaning up to blow the smoke back into his mouth. You pass the joint and the smoke back and forth this way, your lips meeting in soft, lingering kisses, the haze wrapping you both in a warm, peaceful blanket. You both need to piss. Last time, this was the moment you were in the bathroom, alone, stealing his filled condom from the wastebin and inserting it up your ass in a desperate, shameful act of longing. No need for it this time. You have all you ever wanted inside of you, spreading freely—no rubber barrier in sight—to take you over. This time, the act wasn't one of theft, but of gift. And the feeling is not of shame, but of profound, peaceful completion. An hour later, you're at it again. This time it's a celebration of shared pleasure, a joyful contrast to the intense, ritualistic first fuck. The energy is lighter, more playful. You're on top, riding him, your hands splayed across his powerful, hairy chest. You can feel the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat against your palms as you bounce on his magnificent cock, the weight of your PA ring making your own cock swing up and down. He's looking up at you, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated joy and lust. He's laughing, moaning, calling you his "beautiful convert," his "perfect creation," each word a benediction. The sight of him so happy, so lost in the pleasure of you, sends you over the edge. Your own cock erupts, spraying thick, white ropes of your cum all over his chest, matting the dark fur of his pecs and abs. The sight triggers his own release. With a loud, happy groan, he grips your hips and thrusts up deep one last time, and you feel another warm, toxic flood coating your insides, a second gift to seal the deal. You collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, slick with sweat and cum. You're not done. You begin to nuzzle and lick his chest, tasting the salty, bitter tang of your own release. He moans, his hands stroking your back as you rub your own cum into his thick fur, marking him as thoroughly as he has marked you. It's a messy, intimate, perfect exchange. You stay like that, tangled together, his softening cock still inside you, your head on his chest, and you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. In the dead of night, you wake to him rolling on top of you. It's a sleepy, primal act of possession. He enters you again with a sleepy groan. This fuck isn't about emotion; it's about ownership. It's quiet, just the sound of skin on skin and soft moans in the dark. "Even when you go home tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in the dark, "you'll still be full of me. You'll go back to your husband with my poz load swimming inside you. He'll be kissing your mouth, but I have been poz-kissing your ass all night. You're mine now. Everywhere." It's Mark staking his claim, reinforcing the transformation while you are both half-asleep, in a state of pure instinct. Your hole is soft, puffy, and completely open to him now, accepting him with no resistance. It's a natural, perfect fit. With each encounter, you become softer, more vulnerable, more perfectly his. You wake up in the morning tangled together, the sun streaming into the room. There's no shame, no regret. Just a profound sense of peace and rightness. He makes coffee. The rich, bitter aroma fills the small kitchen area, a domestic, comforting smell that feels more intimate and real than anything that happened the night before. You act like a couple. You are finally at peace with yourself. When it's time to leave, you share a final, deep kiss. "I have to go," you say. "My husband will be home this evening." Mark understands. He doesn't push. He just holds you. "I know," he says. "But you know where to find me, you have my number. You know where you belong. This isn't a one-time thing," he says. "We're in this together now. This connection we have... it's separate. It doesn't challenge anything else. But it's real. I'll be here. And I'll breed you again and again, if that's what you want, until it takes. And when it does... we'll be brothers in arms. There's a whole world out there we can explore together. Others we can share this with. I told you I wanted to see you walk out of here carrying my load. Now I want to watch you walk through the world with it. The window is usually two to four weeks. Call me if you get the flu. I want to be the first person you tell when your body starts to change. Think about it." You leave the hotel and go home. Your house is empty, quiet. Your husband won't be back for hours. Everything is as usual, except for the warm, secret presence of another man's toxic load deep inside you. That evening, your husband arrives. He's happy to see you. He asks about your night. You smile and play the part perfectly. That night, you lie in bed next to your sleeping husband. Your cunt is still swollen and puffy, a tender, constant reminder of the night's raw pleasure. Even now, if you move your head just right against the pillow, you can catch the faintest trace of sandalwood and leather on your own skin, a ghost of his possession. And although you know Mark's babies have already been absorbed and are doing their job deep inside you, you still have the distinct, filthy feeling of being loaded, of being permanently claimed. You feel the phantom weight of your husband's secret life from the rest stop. And you feel the phantom echo of the leather biker's rough, primal claim in the woods, the one who first showed you the way. You are a man living a perfect lie, holding all the secrets. You are the bridge between their worlds, and the power is intoxicating. You haven't chosen a new life. You have simply become the master of your old one, who will be—sooner or later—armed with a power no one can ever know about.

Chapter1 - The Dallas heat was a physical presence, pressing down on the manicured lawns of the Preston Hollow neighborhood. Inside the sprawling, glass-walled house that served as his home, Geoff felt a familiar, restless energy. It had been a month since graduation, a month since the state championship trophy was placed on the mantle, and the accolades already felt like relics from someone else’s life. At eighteen, he was a king without a kingdom, his body a coiled spring of muscle and ambition with nowhere to direct it. He found his father and uncle by the pool, two mirror images of masculine perfection. Nate, his father, was on a lounge chair, scrolling through his phone, the sharp lines of his suit from a morning meeting replaced by the relaxed ease of designer swim trunks. Brandon, his uncle, was in the water, executing a flawless, powerful butterfly stroke that cut the turquoise surface like a knife. They were identical twins, both forty-one, both devastatingly handsome with the same dark hair, square jaws, and powerful builds honed by their respective professions. Nate’s power was financial, a quiet, commanding authority; Brandon’s was physical, a vibrant, kinetic energy that had always drawn Geoff in. “Get in here, you lazy punk!” Brandon called, shaking water from his hair like a dog. “Your old man’s going to turn into a fossil over there.” Nate didn’t look up from his phone. “I’m managing our portfolio, not turning into a fossil. There’s a difference. It involves making money, something you two should consider.” Geoff laughed and dove in, the cool water a shock against his sun-warmed skin. The three of them fell into their familiar rhythm of roughhousing. It was a language they spoke fluently, a mix of wrestling holds, dunking contests, and verbal jabs. Geoff, the state champion, was a formidable opponent, but the combined strength and experience of the two men was overwhelming. They were a tangle of muscle and laughter, the water churning around them. Brandon would grab Geoff in a playful headlock, and Nate would join in to tickle his ribs until he gasped for air, surrendering with a splash. It was horseplay, but it was also intimacy, a way of touching and reaffirming their bond that was as natural as breathing. After nearly an hour, they collapsed onto the plush, sun-drenched lounge chairs, chests heaving. Nate, ever the provider, produced a bottle of expensive, coconut-scented tanning oil. “Alright, you animals. On your stomachs. You don’t want to burn.” Geoff and Brandon complied, lying side by side, their faces turned toward each other on the padded arms of the chairs. Nate knelt between them, pouring the cool oil into his palms. He started with Brandon, his strong hands working the oil into the broad expanse of his brother’s back, his movements practiced and efficient. Then he moved to Geoff. His touch was gentler on his son, a paternal caress that still carried the memory of rubbing sunscreen on a small boy at the beach. He worked his way down Geoff’s back, over the sculpted ridges of his wrestler’s lats, toward the small of his back. As his thumbs swept just above the waistband of Geoff’s black Speedo, they froze. Nate’s hands hovered for a second, then he leaned in closer, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice low. Geoff twisted his head to look back, a smirk playing on his lips. Brandon, propped on his elbows, watched his brother with an unreadable expression. Nate’s gaze was fixed on Geoff’s lower back, just inches above the stark white tan line. There, inked into the skin, was the unmistakable, stark symbol: a black and yellow biohazard trefoil. Without thinking, Nate’s eyes flicked to his brother, who was still lying on his stomach. He reached over and hooked a thumb into the waistband of Brandon’s Speedo, pulling it down just an inch. There it was. An identical mark. A perfect match. He sat back on his heels, the playful atmosphere evaporating, replaced by a sudden, sharp tension. The air felt thick. “Brandon?” Nate’s voice was tight, a mix of confusion and alarm. “Geoff? What is this? What is going on?” Brandon finally rolled over, sitting up. He looked at Nate, his expression calm, almost serene. He reached out and rested a hand on Geoff’s still-oiled back. “It’s a symbol, Nate. It’s about a choice. A community.” “What kind of community uses a symbol for toxic waste?” Nate shot back, his voice rising. He looked from his brother to his son, his face a mask of paternal concern. “Geoff, you’re eighteen. This is… this is permanent. What kind of influence is this?” He glared at Brandon, the accusation clear. Brandon stood up, his powerful body glistening in the sun. He looked down at his twin, his brother, his roommate. There was no anger in his eyes, only a profound certainty. “Stop worrying, Nate. It’s not what you think.” He paused, letting the weight of his next words land. “You want to know what it means? You want to understand?” He gestured towards the house with a nod of his head. “Then you need to come with us tonight. The Midtowne Spa. Everything will be revealed there.”

Chapter 4 He was home, but not in the way he’d understood the word for forty-one years. This wasn't the house in Preston Hollow; this was a state of being. The real Nate, the man buried under layers of tailored suits, stock reports, and suffocating grief, was finally clawing his way out of the gauze. The chrysalis of his former life had cracked, and he was emerging, wet and trembling, into a new and brilliant light. And the first thing he needed to do, the only thing that mattered, was to get to know the magnificent son he had made. Geoff, ever the willing vessel, climbed back into the sling, his body limp and radiant from the intensity of his own experience. Nate approached him not as a conqueror, but as a worshipper. He knelt, his knees touching the cool tile floor, and began to cover his son. He pressed his lips to every inch of skin he could find—his ankles, his shins, his knees. He kissed the powerful muscles of his thighs, the hard planes of his stomach, the sensitive skin of his chest. He kissed the state championship medal that still hung around Geoff’s neck, then moved to his neck, his jaw, his closed eyelids. It was a baptism of kisses, an anointment, a father rediscovering his own creation. Slowly, reverently, Nate worked his way back down. He bypassed the jutting cock, still slick from their earlier union, and continued lower. He pushed Geoff’s legs back, exposing the beautiful, slightly swollen, well-used boihole. He had never known. He had never even imagined. He leaned in and inhaled the musky, primal scent of his son, of his own seed mingled with his brother’s. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and tasted. It was a feast. A salty, metallic, deeply personal feast that was more intoxicating than any drug. He lapped at the tender flesh, his tongue probing, tasting, claiming. He was devouring his son, and in doing so, devouring the last of his own inhibitions. Rising to his feet, his own nine-inch cock throbbing with a need that was almost painful, Nate positioned himself at the entrance to this new heaven. He looked into Geoff’s eyes, which were now open and watching him with an expression of pure, unadulterated love. There was no urgency, no frenzy. This was something else entirely. He entered his son ever so gently, a slow, deliberate slide that felt like coming home for the first time. The well-used hole welcomed him, yielding to his length, the heat enveloping him completely. They made love like a father and son should. Nate’s thrusts were deep and measured, each one a promise, each one a declaration of a love that transcended all societal boundaries. He wasn't just fucking his son; he was healing him, and healing himself. Their bodies moved in a sacred, synchronized rhythm, a dance of creation and reunion. The world outside the room ceased to exist. There was only the sling, the two of them, and the profound, soul-shattering connection that flowed between them. The pressure built not in their loins, but in their hearts, a crescendo of emotion that could no longer be contained. Nate felt his climax rising from the depths of his soul, and he saw the same awareness dawn in Geoff’s eyes. As one, they cried out, their voices mingling in a single, perfect chord of release. Nate’s cock pulsed, flooding his son’s body with a second, even more potent offering of his essence, while Geoff’s own cock spurted thick ropes of cum across his heaving chest. They climaxed in unison, a perfect, synchronized explosion of father and son, their bodies locked together, their spirits finally, irrevocably, one.

Chapter 3 The rhythm of Brandon’s hips grew more urgent, his powerful thrusts driving deeper into the sling. Geoff was no longer just moaning; he was sobbing with pleasure, his body taut as a bowstring. Brandon reached down, wrapping a hand around Geoff’s cock, which was already leaking a steady stream of fluid. With a few expert strokes timed perfectly with a final, grinding thrust, Geoff’s entire body seized. He let out a raw, guttural scream as his cock pulsed and erupted, not with a normal ejaculation, but with a full-body, prostate-shattering assgasm that left him trembling and spent in the leather harness. Brandon slowly withdrew, a look of profound satisfaction on his face. He turned to Nate, who was still frozen against the wall, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and raw desire. Brandon gestured him forward with a crooked finger. As Nate approached, Brandon took a long, deep hit from the pipe, then leaned in, pressing his lips to Nate’s. Nate, startled but pliant, opened his mouth, and Brandon exhaled the thick, acrid cloud directly into his lungs. Nate coughed, his head spinning, but then leaned back in for more. They shotgunned back and forth, sharing the potent smoke, their mouths lingering, the line between uncle and nephew, brother and brother, blurring into a hazy, chem-fueled intimacy. “He’s yours now, Dad,” Brandon whispered, his voice husky. “Make it count.” He stepped aside, leaving a clear path to the boy in the sling. Geoff, recovering from his intense climax, looked up at his father, his eyes glassy and full of love and want. Nate felt a tremor run through him. This was the ultimate [banned word], the final wall. He dropped his towel, his own cock achingly hard. He stepped between his son’s legs, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He guided his cock to Geoff’s well-used, puffy hole, still slick with lube and his uncle’s load. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, the heat and tightness a revelation. A profound bliss washed over Nate, a feeling of rightness, of coming home. This wasn't just sex; it was a connection deeper than any he had ever known. He began to move, slowly at first, then with more confidence, his hips finding a rhythm that was ancient and primal. Geoff wrapped his legs around his father’s waist, pulling him in deeper, their bodies moving as one. The long, deep fuck melted into a timeless, blissful union, a silent conversation between father and son, spoken only in the language of flesh. Nate’s entire world had shrunk to this room, to this feeling, to the perfect union with his firstborn son. After an eternity, Nate’s movements slowed. He pulled out, his body glistening with sweat. He looked at Brandon, then at Geoff, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. It was his turn. Without a word, he climbed into the sling, his powerful, muscular body settling into the leather. He felt a strange mix of terror and exhilaration. He was exposing himself completely, not just physically, but emotionally. He was about to give up the one thing he’d never shared with anyone. As he got comfortable, Brandon moved to the backpack. He returned not with a syringe, but with a nice-sized shard of crystal, glistening under the dim light. He knelt behind Nate, who watched him with wide, questioning eyes. Brandon gently spread his brother’s virgin ass cheeks and, without preamble, slipped the shard deep inside Nate’s tight, untouched hole. A sharp, burning sensation immediately began to bloom, a fire that promised to become an inferno. Brandon positioned himself, his own cock still hard and ready. He looked Nate dead in the eye. “Time to join the family, brother.” With one powerful, relentless thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, breaching Nate for the first time. The pain was immediate and intense, a white-hot fire that ripped through him. But beneath it, the shard was already dissolving, sending a wave of pure, crystalline pleasure directly into his bloodstream. The pain and pleasure collided, fused, and exploded into a sensation so profound it was agonizing. Brandon went in for the kill, his hips pounding, claiming his twin’s virginity with brutal, loving force. Through the haze of tears and overwhelming sensation, Nate saw Geoff get up from his chair. The boy approached the sling, his face a mask of love and lust. He leaned down, his lips finding his father’s. As Brandon continued to ravage his newly broken hole, Nate and his son curled into each other, a kissing, crying, blubbering mess. Nate was sobbing openly, the last of his old self shattered, his virgin hole taken by his twin while his son claimed his mouth in a soul-searing kiss. He was no longer just Nate, the buttoned-up hedge fund manager. He was theirs. He was home.

Wow, thanks for the pozitive feedback! Here is part 2. --- Buttboy4older Desperately Seeking Grampa Part 2: Finding Grampa in Palm Springs In all my planning about escaping from my Dad, I had made a really dumb mistake. Fuck, I’m an idiot. I was at the airport waiting for my flight to Palm Springs when I realized that I had no fucking address for my Grampa. Nothing. All I had was an idea that he lived in Palm Springs. My anxiety exploded and I realized that I would be homeless in like a week if I couldn’t find him. I didn’t have enough money to last that long. In my desperation, I reached out to the senior poz daddies I had been chatting with. I wrote: “Guys, I know this sounds stupid. My dad found out I am gay and I am headed to California to meet my Grampa, who is also gay. But my family never shared his address with me. He lives in Palm Springs. I don’t know, this is so dumb…but maybe you know him? His name is Zeus O’Donnell. He’s about 6 feet tall, redhead, had a mustache, really handsome man. He was a professional landscaper and arborist and well known around our area before he left. I have to find him. I only have enough money left to live on my own for another week. But I can’t go back home.” I sent the message then had to board my flight. But just as I was in line there was a message from them. It said: “Oh, we know him well. He lives here in Palm Springs. Everyone loves him. Send us your name and date of birth and we will confirm with him. Tell us your parents’ names and your mother’s maiden name. We have to be sure you are really his grandson. Also, tell us your flight number, airline and arrival time.” I fired off the details and boarded my flight. Then, nothing for the next five hours. I couldn’t connect to the site again. I hadn't ravelled much and I didn’t realize you could only get free text messaging and limited internet on board and the bareback site was blocked that I used to communicate with them. I couldn’t sleep a minute. I was so wired up and nervous. After I landed, I was able to connect to WiFi in the terminal and got back on the site. There was a message. “We sent a car for you. Your Grampa confirmed your name and date of birth. You’ll see there is a man waiting for you in the baggage claim area. He will bring you to your Grampa’s address.” I took me 20 minutes to find my way through the busy terminal to get to the baggage area. I was carrying my heavy army green backpack and was covered in sweat. Funny how everyone else in this airport was wearing shorts and tank tops. I was over dressed in jeans and a hoodie. I felt such emotion when I saw my name “MIKEY O’DONNELL” on the card held up by the driver, a tanned bearded man with a leather shirt, leather cap and super tight leather shorts. He looked so intimidating I saw others around me smirk and whisper to each other as they saw us together. “It’s me!” I said to the man with my name on his board. “I am Mikey O’Donnell. My Grampa sent you to take me to him.” The leather clad chauffeur smiled and said. “Yes, you look like him, a bit. You’re a lot shorter. But still cute like him.” He was happy with my answers and simply said. “Come.” When we exited the airport, my eyes couldn’t believe the intensity of the sun and felt the hot air suck all the sweat from my body. We walked for a fair bit and then he opened the door to a swanky air conditioned BMW SUV. “There are some drinks and snacks back there” he said, and then he was quiet the whole time apart from some mumbling as he spoke through his air pods. But the ride was only 15 minutes. Don’t know why, I had half expected to be driven to some warehouse or shady side street. Instead, we pulled up into a pristine neighborhood with cactus gardens and carefully organized stones and rocks. “You can get out now,” the gruff chauffeur said. I saw a smirk on his face in the mirror. “I’ll get your bag. Your grandfathers are waiting for you.” “Grandfathers? What?” Anxiety and adrenaline were pumping through me. The chauffeur opened the door for me, took off his sunglasses, and stared me down. I knew instinctively not to question him. I slid out of the car and waited for instructions. “Go, they are waiting," he barked at me. The chauffeur had retrieved my bag and I followed him along the stone path to the bright pink front door where we were greeted by a tall black man in a bathrobe. “Mikey, I’m Donovan. Welcome to gay paradise! Welcome to Palm Springs!” He gave me a big bear hug although I could only halfheartedly hug him back. He took my hand and then led me inside. Behind me, I heard the thud of my backpack as the chauffeur dropped it off and then the closing of the front door. “How was your trip, Mikey?” Donovan asked me. I had to look up to respond. He was bald with bright eyes above smooth high cheeks. I recognized the big smile on his face and the thick mustache that I had seen in their videos to me. I wondered why he was in a bathrobe and acting so casual. I hesitated to move forward. “Well, this is really incredible, isn’t it?” He smiled shaking his head with his hands on his hips. “All the way from Long Island in search of your beloved Grandfather. And to think that you had already connected with him, and me. To think that we all had connected. It’s really a divine intervention.” He raised his hands to the sky in mock prayer and then slapped his hands together with joy. “Sorry, what? Is he here? Did you bring him here to meet me?” I looked around at the spacious living room that looked like it was a photo from some luxury real estate magazine. “Oh my son, Buttboy4older,” Donovan winked at me and started laughing, a big raucous and uncontrollable laugh. And then, my Grampa appeared. I recognized him immediately. He was so much thinner than I remembered but still had his trademark mustache. He was also in a loose cloth bathrobe and using a cane. He shook his head. “Mikey, my boy. I’ve missed you so much.” I could hear his voice crack a little as he saw me. “Good god, you are a beautiful young man.” I walked to him and hugged him and squeezed him and held back tears. “Oh Grampa, I can’t believe this worked. I have wanted to see you for so long.” He patted my head for a few moments. “This is unreal. Isn’t it?”, he said as he looked in my eyes. Holding his hand I replied, “I don’t understand. I reached out to your friend Donovan and he made this happen?” “Well,,” Grampa said, “you reached out to both of us. But Donovan is always more quick to respond than I am on these sites.” I tried to put the puzzle together but was afraid of the answer. “The messages on the dating site were…”I Donovan again burst into laughter. “Ha, oh my son, that is a good one! A dating site! Yes, the “dating site” where lovelorn romantics go to find their soulmates. Ha!” I could now hear the wonderful lyrical Jamaican voice that I had heard in the videos they had shared. I looked at Grampa and then at Donovan. Grampa was smiling but shaking his head as he looked at the terrazzo floor. Donovan said, “Mikey, let’s clear this up right now. We only accept honesty in this house. You and we have been chatting for a while on the bareback site. We are “Poz Daddies Palm Springs” and you are “ButtBoy4Older” and this is your own flesh and blood, your Grampa, Zeus…or Father Zeke as we all call him around here. He and I are the Poz Daddies. We had no idea who you really were, but when you texted your parents’ names and your birthdate, he knew, we knew, you are our grandson.” My face went red and my anxiety exploded. “So, all the filthy things I said, all the dirty photos I sent..it was to you, Grampa, and Donovan?” They both nodded eagerly. “ I feel so, I don’t know…ashamed and confused. All those slutty photos and thoughts. But you guys encouraged it and I felt you had, have, so much to teach me.” Grampa was stroking my head and simply nodded. “Listen, Mikey. This is a shame free household.” And to prove it, Donovan dropped his robe on the floor and revealed his mature naked body to me. He raised his arms to the side. “This is who we are. We are the same men you chatted with on the bareback site. And we want you to be the same Buttboy4older that you were. Don’t hide your true nature. Now, your Grampa has some reservations, but we need to address all of this upfront before we continue.” Donovan walked over to my Grampa and removed his robe. My Grampa was so thin but his muscles popped as did his veins on his girthy penis. Now they were both naked before me. Lust swelled up inside me but was tempered by the shame and confusion I felt. Donovan came and stood between us. He took his free hand and directed it to his body. He guided my limp hand and slid it over his wonderful once muscular chest so that I could feel the heat and texture of his muscle and fat, he rubbed my hand against the heavy nipple piercing and the thick nip knob, and then brought my hand slowly down across his abdomen to his curly pubes. Instinctively, my hand started to descend and caress and stroke his veiny, long, and sweaty cock. I looked down in wonder as my hand found the tip of his uncut penis and rubbed around the foreskin, something I had wanted to do so often when I looked at the photos they sent to me. Donovan let me play with his hefty Jamaican meat for a moment .“Now your, as I said, Grampa Zeke here has some reservations.” I saw my Grampa biting his lip. Donovan continued, “He and I were, and are, so aroused by you and all the things we talked about, but he says he cannot be incestuous with you, his own grandson. Mikey, do me a favor and put one of your fingers inside my foreskin while we talk and gently rub it inside and around my pisshole….oh that’s it my son.” He put one hand on my shoulder and massaged me as I lewdly fondled his hood meat and fingered his wide pisshole. My Grampa was stroking his own thickening veiny cock with one hand and with the other holding onto his cane as we watched me look up at the hung Jamaican giant in awe. “You can see for yourself, Mikey. Look how aroused your Grampa is. But he does not want to be incestuous. He lusts after your bubble butt with its peach fuzz and pink virgin boy cunt. He talks about how it would taste, how it would look as he stares up at it under our rim chair, how your unfucked asslips would look after hours of rimming in our sling, how puffy and horny they would be for our old poz cocks once your unpenetrated hole knows the pleasure of a long deep tonguing and butthole chewing.” I looked at Grampa, and feeling like I was telling a half truth, I said. “I understand, Grampa. I love you. We won’t have incest together.” My index finger was halfway inside Donovan’s long, hot foreskin and was slick with whatever juices and stuff were inside it. I licked my lips as I imagined tonguing inside his hood and really cleaning it out as I French kissed it. Donovan said, “But I am not your Grampa, Mikey. So, none of this between you and me would be incest. And I would love to explore all the sensual and kinky things we talked about in our bareback site messaging. Would you like that, son?” Donovan then did only what I had been imagining about. He pulled my finger out of his moist hooded meat and raised it to my nose, rubbing the funk on it, and then stuck it in my lips as though he were sticking a soother into a baby’s mouth. “Fuck yes, “ I heard my Grampa say. Donovan grunted. “See, you little pig. Grampa likes to watch his own Grandson taste my thick Jamaican sausage juice. Can you imagine how he will react when he watches me deflower your pink virgin shithole?” The utter filth of this conversation made me weak and I groaned as I suckled Donovan’s finger hungry for every taste of his foreskin from my finger. I had heard that older men can sometimes be more lewd and adventurous. I guessed Donovan was one of those men. And my Grampa too. Donovan let me lick it for a few more seconds. “Now, go hug your Grampa and tell him how my poz foreskin tasted.” Donovan pushed me into my Grampa who received me with open arms and hugged me again. I kissed his flat skinny belly and chest and veins. “How did you like it, Grandson?” He said with a loving tone as though he were asking about how some cotton candy tasted that he had bought for me at a carnival. I looked up at my Grampa as I hugged his tanned thin body. I melted as I looked at his bright green eyes, thin face and big bushy mustache. I felt so safe and so horny in his embrace. He nodded at me looking for an answer. “It’s ok, Mikey,” He said nodding to me. “This isn’t incest. It’s just you telling me, your Grampa, how my husband’s big uncut poz meat tasted. I want to hear it.” I reached up and touched his mustache and wanted to kiss him so badly. I imagined his hairy mouth on my butt cheeks and asshole. But that would be incestuous, I thought. That would be really bad and shameful. “Well, it tasted like honey, kind of, mixed with urine and sweat. I, uh, I really liked it. I can still smell and taste it.” I still felt some shame expressing this sleazy detail to him. “It’s good stuff, Son. I can’t get enough of it myself,” Grampa said as he patted me on the head and then bent down to kiss me. His cock was fully hard now and pressed against me. He was so excited by our reunion. I felt Donovan’s hand slip into my jeans and underwear from behind and he fingered my sweaty bum crack. Then he took his hand out and we could hear him sniffing and licking his finger. “Damn, Mikey boy needs a shower. Hey husband, let’s break for a bit and give your gorgeous grandson a chance to shower and freshen up. He’s going to be living with us for a while, right? We have time to catch up. Plus, I have some sleazy ideas to work around how ButtBoy4Older is going to fit in comfortably to our family arrangement so that you don’t feel “incestuous” together. Yes man, I have some fun ideas for us. Welcome home, Mikey!” Donovan again let out a big raucous laugh as we finished in a group hug and then he and my Grampa French kissed noisily just above me and their dicks pressed against me as I was squeezed like a panini between them. Man, I wonder what this “family arrangement” would look like. For now, I was happy.

I would love to see a spin-off of this story. After Harmon’s “Toy” is all broken in and seeing the story of Jason with Lewis. And if Kenny is ever going to reconnect with Lewis.

I've had them twice. I'm a relatively hairy man - and it is not as easy to get rid of them on your own. Rubbing that prescription on your back - not fun man. Just reading this thread I'm itching all over.

There is a surplus of tops. Old tops, fat tops, ugly tops, smelly tops. Bottoms are just too picky. Cute top walks in, five bottoms descend on him like a pack of wolves. Meanwhile there’s the rock-hard 90-year-old that’s been waiting in the corner for a blow job for the past hour. I see this all the time. Before I realized my role as a truly submissive bottom, I was picky too. Now I fall to my knees to service that 90-year-old dick, and any other that comes along. That guarantees me a gut and ass full of 9 or 10 loads every time I head out. The tops are there. You’ve just got to be willing to take them. Every cock deserves good service.

Scabies are definitely much more of a hassle and actually easier to catch.

I'm moderately hairy all over, and like it that way (as well as in my partners - @Tanbbottom, I'd probably find you super hot in your natively hirsute state). I've had crabs about half a dozen times, including at least once where I didn't actually have sexual contact (yes, you can catch these from a toilet seat). They are very easy to catch, but fortunately fairly easy to get rid of as well. I got prescription pyrethrins a few times, but they're also available over the counter, and in fact flea shampoo for dogs and cats is the same stuff exactly and works perfectly well (or does for me anyway). Make sure you leave it on a full 5-10 minutes! I find it's important to remove the nits (my fingernails seem to work better than a comb) and any lice that I can, as sometimes the insecticide only stuns them. Physically removing them is guaranteed. I used to have to treat twice on occasion, but since I started using this approach, I've not had any relapses. On a related topic, scabies are ever so much nastier than crabs... they can affect you all over even if you're not that hairy, they itch like fury, and they are substantially harder to get rid of (read: coat your body with insecticidal lotion and leave it on for 8 hours, twice). Please, if you ever cross paths with them, exterminate them with extreme prejudice!!!

Better to say that crabs are not necessarily an STI, but the principal route of transmission is still direct physical contact between hosts, and as these are pubic lice, that contact is usually has something to do with bumping uglies. What we can say is that crabs are not an infection, but rather an infestation. The stigma around lice, aside from them being a colossal pain in the ass, arises largely from their association with poor hygiene. While anyone can get lice, we tend to look upon people who allow insects to live on their bodies as unclean.

Doctors have an Rx that will irradicate crab (pubic lice). The active ingredient is permethrin, an insecticide also used by farmers (though not in ointment form, hah!). I went to my doc and got a cream that I applied to my groin and the itching was gone in days, IIRC. It's been awhile. I've not had crabs in over 20+ years. And there's where the stigma about crabs is silly. Crabs are not an STI. Yet the CDC's own website assumes sex and STIs -- wow: [think before following links] [think before following links] https://www.cdc.gov/parasites/lice/pubic/treatment.html I got crabs from sleeping in a college mate's dorm room. We slept together -- not "slept together" -- we did not have sex. The crabs were in his bed linens. Crabs are like bed bugs. Yet here we are on BZ with an OP feeling comfortable talking with some sex pigs about it. 🤨

As it should be! Perfumes are for women and sissies. Men should smell like the anmals they are.