rawTOP

I took part in a Conversion Party at my Ex's, one of the many I've attended over the years (the first was my own) where Steve arranges for 3 or 4 POZ Tops to breed a Bottom. Last night a Vietnamese Boy named Pham made his debut; and like all the guys Steve's converted, Pham was a Cum Whore from the git-go. Steve starts by making love to them and gets them enamored of his flowing locks, his slim, hairless bod, and boyish good looks which belie his 35 years. After about 20 fucks, they trust him completely and let down their guard. Steve believes Asians make the world's best Bottoms and likes them petite and slightly fem. Within a fortnight all his Boys are taking it raw. Gradually he proceeds from pulling out to pumping them full of Poison Spooge. They get to where they can't live without their daily fix of Toxic Seed. When the moon waxes full a second time, and the Youth shows no sign of the Fuck Flu—that's when Steve throws in the towel and calls us in. Since the Victim is always Prime NEG Meat, my Ex has no trouble recruiting GIFTERS to breed the POZ resistant Ass. Pham was a cute 19, about 5'3" and hairless, with a tiny Cock and nervous smile. Steve and his comrade, Oren, who loathed anyone more generously endowed than he, were readying the Sling when I walked in. An unsuspecting Pham was upstairs showering. Pham had no suspicion that: 1) Steve was POZ and; 2) got his jollies POZZING Boys. Consequently the Youth couldn't have conceived that he was one of the few with whom Steve had failed. And since Stevie was a sore Loser, old Phamy was to be thrown to the wolves. I'd met Pham on two previous occasions, and we'd hit it off. I genuinely liked the Kid. So he showed no consternation when he saw me sitting there. No sooner had Stevie told Pham to get me a beer, than the doorbell rang and two more of Steve's cohorts waltzed in. It was like old home week. All of us already knew each other from the waist down—and all of us were POZ. The two newcomers gave Pham a coarse once over, and Phamy shuddered beneath the glare. He couldn't help but notice the bulge mushrooming in Davie's crotch and the PreCum permeating Shawn's blue jeans. Pham was whisked upstairs for the preliminaries. Stevie hates for his Bottoms to have a good time getting screwed by ANYOTHER—so he makes them spooge before the fun begins. They had not been upstairs more than a minute when Stevie called me in. I ascended to the Playroom and encountered one very rattled Pham. He loved Stevie so much, yet was aggrieved by his suspicion something untoward was going down. He was disrobed and naked, and Steve was working his small Dick with his greased palm. "Tell him how it is," he groused. "We're gonna have an Orgy, Kid," I beat around the bush. I knew the Boy was disillusioned, as I'd once been—having fantasized about exclusive dibs on Stevie's Jizz. But my Ex knew his Pigs' true nature—and led them down the primrose path to what comes naturally from barebacking. We're a narcissistic bunch, bent on a self-destructive course, with a one-way ticket to misery and hell—but, hey, as they say, half the fun is getting there! Steve asked that I anoint the Youth with Baby Oil as he likes to call his debutantes "Greased Pigs." I massaged it by the palmful onto Pham's silky skin, the Boy moaning as I couldn't resist slipping a slimey finger up his Ass. Unable to hold back, the Kid gyrated in Steve's direction and spooged into his open palm. The Master massaged the Youth's Ejaculate up and down his heretofore infertile Penis, lathering it to the extreme. Old Phamy was about to get a taste of his own Seed. It was obvious when the Boy'd been violated—grimacing, eyes widening and glazing over. Oren, my favorite Sadist, applauded from the doorway; and no sooner had Steve started fucking, than Shawn and Davie walked in holding hands. I'd partnered with Shawn on numerous occasions, and knew first-hand how hung he was; and Davie, with his Beer Can Death Stick, posed a threat to any NEG. The Boy was sweating. I wiped the perspiration from his brow and whispered in his ear, that, after tonight, “Enough would never be enough again.” The Boy's eyes rolled back as I pressed Poppers to his nose. Oren moistened the Youth's parched lips with wispy filaments of HIV, while Steve deposited AIDS Load Number One up the young Mancunt. Simultaneously Pham moaned in ecstasy and desolation, despairing at betrayal by his Betrothed. In the end he probably took 10 Loads that night, each one laden with The Bug. I won't even try to guess which one of us knocked up the Kid—but he came down with a doozy Strain which knocked him out for almost a month. When Shawn and Davie finished up, I took my pleasure with the Youth whose plundered, shell-shocked Manhole had been well pulverized. Steve and I each grabbed an armpit and dragged the ailing Phamy to the boudoir, where, traumatized or not, the Maestro planned to breed him one last time. Meanwhile, Oren demanded “I get my Sloppy Cunt into the Sling.” Oren can be a very nasty Fuck, who'd just as soon spit in your face as look at you. And that was my reward for helping out. Afterwards, the house was quiet except for the Pham's persistent whimpering as the gangbang and betrayal had reeked havoc on his psyche and self-worth. I certainly sympathized with the Boy, but was convinced, once he recovered, we'd make a fantastic pair—at the Baths and Glory Holes everywhere.

*****GETTING ACQUAINTED***** We met on the Net, and I meet lots of guys online; but this Kid was different. I am a Gifter, and he was a Chaser if there ever was one. I've POZZED a few guys in my time, but he was 25. I kept asking, "Are you sure? Are you ready for the BUG?" "Yes," Simon said. He'd barebacked long enough to know that he never wanted latex up his Ass again, although his odds of getting POZZED were excellent. After a month of chatter back-and-forth, I figured Simon genuinely wanted to convert. It was just a matter of who, when, and where. I suggested he cum to one of our bareback parties. It was Saturday night, and I hoped to do the weekend with him: a one-on-one on Thursday followed by an invitation-only POZZING party Friday. **********THURSDAY********** I was delighted to find the Boy exactly as advertised—a Twink at 25, if a very determined one. We couldn't wait to get to the motel and let our hair down. As soon as the door closed behind us, we passionately embraced, kissing and feeling each other up. He wanted to clean up; and by the time he got out of the shower, I lay naked on the bed. He took every opportunity to tease my Manhood, knowing full well how desperately I wanted to blow my Load up his NEG Mancunt. I'd left Lube in the bathroom; but despite all the grease, he was very tight. I just let the weight of my body push my Shaft into that Bubble Butt, till my Balls rested firmly against his Ass Crack. I wanted him to get used to me before I bred his Ass. I pulled him to his knees, doggie-style, and was able to get in a little deeper, enough to make him gasp. Then I began slow, rhythmic strokes, my hands on his hips, hugging him, holding on tight. My Balls started tingling so I lit into him—long deep strokes—all the way in—then out again. "Fuck me! Knock me up! POZ my Hole! Give me your Babies!" All of which made me want to fuck the shit out of the little Cunt. I told him I was gonna cum—the moment he'd been waiting for—Conversion! And when I shot: "Remember this, and cherish it!" Poison Jizz spurted up his Bubble Butt. He began to jack, and would have shot; but I told him to cut the shit and take his POZZING like a Man. I kept working my Toxic Seed up his sore NEG Butt, trying every trick in the book to make him one of us. Finally I let him roll over so we could kiss. He was incredibly passionate and appreciative of my Dirty Seed. It didn't take much to get me stiff again, and soon we were fucking missionary style. He wrapped his long, smooth legs around my hips and dug his callused heels into my Butt, forcing me in deeper. After that second Fuck, we lay there cuddling. He ran his fingers through my hair and thanked me profusely, calling me Daddy—not so much a reference to the difference in our ages—as to the very real possibility that I was now the Father of his Babies. I felt his stiff Cock against my tummy, and knew he had to get off lest he burst. "OK, Boy, I want that last NEG Load of yours." I slipped down and engulfed his Cockhead between my lips, his Piss Slit oozing profusely. I licked it off, willowy cobwebs of Boy Spooge connecting him and me. Then down on him again till his overstimulated Rod began to pulse. That night, while we were cuddling, I rolled him on his side and slid back in, We fell asleep like that, my Cock marinating in my own Dirty Seed, while traces of his youthful Jizz still steeped deep within in the periodontal cavities of my teeth and gums. **********F R I D A Y********** I’d asked ten POZ Tops to join us, knowing full well not all would attend. I'd also invited a Bottom, so there'd be a ready source of Fuck Meat at all times. The Kid was the only NEG attending. At the appointed hour they began to show, and each was introduced to Simon. I explained that the party was on his behalf, and admission was contingent upon depositing at least one POZ Load up the Twink's Ass. No one objected. They were a varied lot. The two Blacks were real hunks. The whites included a bear like myself, a swishy Fag whom you'd never suspect of being a Top, and one old Troll. With me that made six Tops, plus my Bottom friend, and my Boy. The two Blacks started with the Kid while I fucked my Bottom Bud. The others followed my lead and took on the Bottom. I'd already put a Load up his Ass, so each of them slid home on my virility. Everything was copacetic until the Blacks decided to double dick the Kid. I knew the Boy had never taken two Cocks at once. He'd had a Dick and a Dildo in him once, or so he said; but that's as far as he had gone. One of the Dudes got him to sit on his Dick, then very astutely pulled him down, chest-to-chest, to kiss him, thus exposing his Mancunt. The second Black got in between their legs and maneuvered his big Dick in next to his Pal's. The Black underneath held the Kid tight, smothering his laments with kisses. The two black Dicks were mashed together in Whitey's tiny Cunt, two sets of POZ Cocks in one NEG Pussy, united by stringy ropes of slimey Ass Juice and POZ Seed. After that, the party became a fucking free-for-all. I went out for a smoke; and when I returned, I was pleased to see the Youth was screwing one of the Blacks (payback time) who, in turn, was fucking my Bottom Bud. We lost track of how many Loads he took that night, but I doubted any Dude could take that much POZ Cum and still remain NEG. **********SATURDAY********** We slept late and opted to order breakfast in, as Simon said there was no way he was going out in public with Cum still dripping from his Ass. That afternoon we went swimming in the motel pool. The cool water and the sun's warm rays seemed to reinvigorate us both, or so I thought; but afterwards we napped till party time. We arrived early to give our Host some quality time with Target One. We strapped him in the Sling; he rimmed his Ass, spit on his Dick, and screwed the shit out of the Kid. A few more guests arrived, and when our Host pulled out, a blob of POZ Cum plopped on the floor, to the onlookers' delight. A former Marine with a beer-can Cock approached the Kid, and soon the chains were rattling again. I had one of my Buds bent over the fuck table when I glanced over at the Sling and saw the pained expression on Simon's face. One of our associates is a Daddy hung like a horse. After the Marine, the Daddy quickly rammed it home. Thing is—Daddy's Tool is immense, curving upwards at the head. Though the guy is wont to plow in hard and sock it to his mates, it takes him forever to get it off. I felt sorry for the Kid. We've all heard the fucking sound of two sweaty bodies, flesh-on-flesh; but there it grew so loud everyone stopped in their tracks to stare. I nudged my way past the voyeurs to take a closer look. Inspired by the exuberance with which Daddy had used the Youth, the partygoers’ mood turned ominous, with catcalls to "Breed the Kid!" The Maestro finished and pulled out, leaving the Youngster twisting in the wind. Simon was wiped; his head was limp. I had to get him out of there before the other vultures got to him. I helped him over to the couch and gave him a roll of toilet paper with which to wipe himself. To my chagrin, when I turned around, he was back in the Sling again—another compatriot up his Ass. I had to hand it to the Kid—he had more Balls than Common Sense. A line had formed, and he took us all on. Never one to cast aspersions upon the joys of bareback sex, I joined the foray. The Queen ahead of me wasn't nearly big enough to fill the Boy's slack Cunt. But he pulled his Dick out, awash in Spooge, and jacked—and as he shot—he plunged back in and bathed the gutsy Youth in yet another Load of Poison Jizz. I inserted my Rod very gently in the Boy, his pulverized Pussy now leaking Crimson Spooge. I shifted to-and-fro to slosh around in the oceans of the Manseed, and knew I, too, could never cum in that cavernous morass. So I borrowed the trick the Queen had used—and jacked—till I added my Manseed to the potent Sperm Bank incubating in the Youth. Last of all, Big Daddy's Partner still hadn't had a chance. Though not nearly as endowed as his older Mate, he had a reputation for fucking Ass and fucking well. Meanwhile a toothless Old Troll bent over the Sling to suck the Youth. Overcome by the irresistible two-pronged assault, the Boy's Ass tightened up. Big Daddy's Lover suddenly found himself engulfed in a much tauter Hole. The Kid blew his Load in the toothless old Troll's mouth at the same time Daddy's Lover shot up his Ass. The Top pulled out, his PA dripping the prettiest pink Spunk. The afterbirth excited one Sick Pup, who used his syphilised lips to soothe the Youngster's pummeled Ass. That drove Simon insane! By then the party was winding down. Again I helped the Twink over to the couch. Disheveled hair, awash with sweat, swollen Ass Lips oozing speckled Cum, gobs of Spooge peppering his legs—he was a mess. I got the Boy a Coke to drink and he gulped it down, though I cautioned him to take it slow. He had to piss, and prolonged his stay—shitting God knows what—annoying those who wanted in the tiny downstairs john. Twice I had to check on him to make sure he was okay. The rest of the guys were showering and cleaning up, putting on their clothes and saying good-byes, with the usual exchange of hastily jotted names and numbers that would likely never see the light of day. We'd been among the first to arrive, and were the last to leave. Finally I got the Kid cleaned up enough to put on his clothes. By the time we got back to the motel, a mere 10 minutes away, his shorts were soaked again. I told him unless he douched (and we hadn't cum equipped for that) the Spooge would likely drip all night. As we climbed into bed my Dick sprang to life; but I knew the Kid couldn't take anymore, so I let him cuddle up against me—and like so, we fell asleep.

The Huffington Post has some comments on the recent HIV/AIDS conference... The upside of this is that when someone gives you a hard time about barebacking with neg guys tell them that it's safer than not being on meds and fucking with a condom. (Of course, on meds plus a condom will be safer still), but it does call into question the criminalization of poz guys who bareback. If they're on meds they're practicing safe sex even when they bareback (since the criteria for 'safe' is condom use).I've been saying for a while that poz guys will be pushed into taking meds earlier than they personally need them in an effort to protect others. News like this, while excellent, will only make that particular issue more of a problem. This is interesting in contrast to the last thing I mentioned - basically ways to stay off meds and delay needing to go on them. Or perhaps a way for poz guys to go on extended drug holidays - go off, and stay off for a while. But I wonder if this treatment won't be pushed to the side in an effort to get all poz guys on meds to protect neg guys... That's pretty amazing... So instead of vaccinating neg guys, that's a "vaccine" for poz guys that does at least part of the work of ARVs - and suppresses HIV for long periods of time...All in all very good news on the treatment front...

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this..." Of course, the cute Counselor didn't have to tell me anything. A few weeks earlier at a Circuit Party I felt the heat of that LOAD. It was special. I wasn't so much a "Bug Chaser" as a "Bug Enabler." I love getting fucked by folks—black or white, young or old, gay or straight—WHOMEVER! And the big-dicked Puerto Rican who ravaged me with his Prince Albert was definitely worth enabling! He looked into my eyes, and I knew he was giving me a Fuck to Die For. Back to the cute Counselor—he was 30ish, blonde, blue-eyed, very studious, with his glasses, suit and tie, about 5'6". He also had a Bubble Butt to die for. "I hate to tell you this, but something terrible has happened." I nodded. Not a big surprise. "If you need counseling..." I licked my lips and stared at his swollen pecs. Thank God he hadn't worn a Tee. His meaty titties clung to his cotton shirt. "Don't worry, all my friends are POZ. Isn't that the in-thing now?" "Mr. Johnson...this is serious...." "I know it is.” Contemptuously: “I don't have to worry about safe sex now. I think I'll head home and toss out all my Condoms." He shook his head in disbelief, appearing at a loss for words. My friends reacted diversely—some pleased, some melancholy. Pleased—because now they got to tag me raw. Melancholy—because they'd seduced me into barebacking, and now I had to pay the Piper. So Friday night I invited them over for a "Conversion Celebration." It started at my place and ended at the Baths, where, to my delight, I found the guy who'd POZZED me—cruising. Initially I didn't tell Armando he was the one; I thought I'd save that for another night when we could be more intimate. And never one to hold a grudge (on the contrary I was in awe of his virility) I asked him to join our merry pack. Armando turned out to be a trip. I watched as he seduced a college jock. He stroked the athlete's abs, licked his tits, and whispered sweet Puerto Rican nothings in his ear. Since all of us were sex-obsessed, the Fuck quickly turned into a Gangbang. The Bottom hadn't yet cum my way, when I spied a hunk I absolutely had to have. That flawless Ass! The Short Blonde Sweetness dropped his towel and minced into the Steam Room. I knew in my heart the Dude was mine to POZ. I used to be a Bottom Boy, but all that changed with HIV. I sat down beside him, his delicate features obscured by billowy clouds of steam. We were alone, concealed behind a thick glass door and foggy atmosphere. I teased his Cock then flipped him over on his belly and slid my oozing Member up his Crack. "I have a Condom," the nervous Sweetness chirped, the tremor in his voice betraying his anxiety. I snickered and shoved it in—no Lube but for the heavy moisture-laden air. I wanted Blondie cognizant of my Sick Seed assailing his Ass Walls. I wanted him to weep the tears that dance so seductively upon the cheeks of those just bred. He hollered at me to get off; but we were alone, ringing wet, in the super-heated atmosphere, which muffled his tirade. He made like he was gonna fight me off, while I licked his ears and bit his neck. His soft four inches mushroomed to a turgid Seven, despite his hollow protestations. He pushed back on my Viral Stick, moaning, whimpering, ashamed of his hypocrisy—of so blatantly violating the principles by which he earned his livelihood. He had it cuming. He needed guys like me to stay in business. I plowed his Ass as roughly as I could, in hope of bettering the odds; and when I shot, it was the most fulfilling sensation I'd ever known—to foredoom this truly deserving Fag to an eternity of doctors, tests, and pills. The heavy glass door scraped and groaned as Armando magically appeared. We mouthed a long, deep lingering kiss and I spread my demoralized Victim 's lily-white Ass Cheeks in gratitude. Sweetness just shivered, squirmed and purred as Armando’s Prince Albert abraded his Mancunt. The Puerto Rican pulled out long enough for me to flip him over. Our eyes locked, and the Bottom winced as if confronting his worst enemy. "Mr. Counselor! " I admonished the social worker, as Armando redoubled his detrition. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but all my friends are POZ."

I love getting fucked by strangers. A week ago I was at the Baths. After a shower, I left the door open, turned off the light, and lay face down on the mattress with my legs spread. I had only to wait a few minutes until he came in. He fingered my Hole, and, shortly thereafter, replaced them with a good-sized Cockhead. I took a deep hit of my Poppers as he pressed in and whispered, "You want my raw Dick up your Pussy?" "Yeah, Man! Fuck me! Use my Mancunt!" He pounded me hard with quick, powerful strokes, his Death Stick pounding my flaccid Mancunt. I clamped my Ass Muscles about his Toxic Shaft, bringing him to the brink of climax. "Oh yeah, Fuckin' Whore! Want me to breed your Pussy?" "Please, sir. Gimme your Seed! Fill me up!" "FUCK YEAH! HERE CUMS! TAKE MY DEATH SEED!" He spasmed incessantly, filling my Asscunt with his Semen. After he had pumped the last of his Load, he collapsed on top of me. He lay motionless, not moving a muscle. Were it not for his hard Shaft within me, I would have thought he were deceased. Another minute and he began to fuck again. Jesus, he was an impassioned Fucker! After I took a few more deep hits of my Poppers, I wished the ride would never end. Having him in me was great and natural. I couldn't get enough of his FuckMeat! "I'm gonna breed you again! I can't help myself! Tell me you want another Load!" "Yeah, Man, goddamn it! I want EVERYTHING you got to offer." "Then EVERYTHING it shall be!" he exclaimed, thrusting in deeper. "Take my DIRTY SEED!" There it was—all the cards on the table. With all the hints and innuendo, I had no doubt about his Status and didn't give a shit. All that mattered was Cock and his Semen. I figured sooner or later I'd have to pay. Nothing worthwhile cums free. After awhile he pulled out, thanked me, and made his exit. I lay there, exhausted and sated, and fell asleep. When I awoke, there was a note on the floor. I turned up the room lamp to read it and was both fascinated and entranced. "Hi, and thanks again for the meating! “I knocked, but there was no answer, so I slipped this beneath your door. "One thing I forgot to mention. You probably already guessed. Anyway, I better cum clean. "I've had HIV for a while now. Last week the Doc said I’ve got AIDS. He says I may be a day late and a dollar short, since I’ve already used all the common Meds. "So you may want to get tested; and if you test POZ, check your resistance. I'm sorry I didn't around to this earlier; but, frankly, I just needed to fuck. "If, by chance, you want to try it again, I think I can find the time. I’m always here on Wednesdays—same time, same place, same station. Below you’ll find my email address." If you think I was chilled to the bone by such audacity, you don’t know where I’m cumin’ from. Actually I got a hardon. Besides it took plenty of gumption to admit to such a grand deception, and I halfway admired the Man! Again and again I reread his missive. He’d read me right. Carefully, I tucked it in my wallet. I knew I would be there the following Wednesday. The only question was whether to e-mail him before then.

So I fucked this Asian guy today - I'd fucked him once before. Then I sat down to do some porn blogging. Finished off the scene with the top with a 10" dick on Cocksure Men, and then thought I'd do a post for Bareback Masters. I opened up the scene, looked at the pics and the bottom who was getting tagged by two tops was the bottom I just got done fucking. Mind you, he looks pretty different now. It's years later, he's got few more pounds on him and his hair is naturally dark, not bleach blond. But it's him. (BTW, I like him better the way he looks now...) Really weird coincidence, eh?

This is exactly why I think condoms should be like alcohol with no one under 21 allowed to buy/use them. We'd probably get support for a law like that from the conservatives. After all, from their perspective distributing condoms to young people encourages them to have sex. Politics makes strange bedfellows. (Hmmm... If they're our political bedfellow, do we get to fuck them?)

I went to the Baths and hooked up with this Old Sleaze. He took me to his room and wanted to fuck me raw, but I insisted on a Condom. He pulled out a little bag of Tina, and drew out 5 lines. He snorted one and urged me to try it. I was a little nervous cause I'd never done drugs. He told me it was no different from Poppers, only stronger. So I tried one line and felt kinda weird. The Old Fucker complemented me on my stamina, and urged me to do another. I ended up snortin' all four and was fuckin’ flying. The Old Sleaze opened the door, hoisted my legs to his shoulders, and fucked the shit outta me. Then the Old Fucker put Tina on the Dickhead of some emaciated Lurker who'd observed the whole thing from the hall. The Lurker Creep plowed my Ass, too. The two of them colluded for a minute. I only overheard bits and pieces of their conversation cause my attention span was kinda short; but from what I gathered, the Old Fart was anxious to get rid of me, cause he hadda be on his way. The two of them escorted me to the basement and put me in a Sling. From then on everything was hazy. I drifted in and outta consciousness; but, by morning, I'd been fucked by maybe 20 guys. I tested POZ three months later, and have been a bareback devotee ever since. OK, so I've switched allegiance and now I am a Top. But that first time with meth was overwhelming. I'd relinquished all control over my body. I knew what I was doin' was risky and still forswore saying "no."

I went to an adult book store, entered the last booth in the darkest part of the arcade, and fed in quarters while I beat my meat. An eye appeared at the Glory Hole, followed by a finger beckoning me to stick my Dick through. I was rewarded by a hot pair of lips and one helluva blowjob. Not yet ready to cum, I pulled out, bent down, and pursed my lips at the orifice. When his Dick was slimey with Precum and Spit, I backed up to the G.H. and a hot Cock slid up my Butt. He pumped for a moment then asked if he could cum over. Soon his bare Shaft was balls deep up my Ass—plowing slowly in and out. He started moaning and pumped faster and faster—his Balls slapping against my Ass Crack. He grabbed my hips, his Dick suspended deep in my Pussy, as he panted and shot. I was so hot—crystal clear PreCum oozing out of my Rod. But, alas, I was about to pull up my briefs…when Cock Number 2 slid up my Ass! "What the Hell!" I looked back to see what was going on. The door stood wide open and a dude I'd never seen before was plowing my Ass. Behind him three other guys with Dicks in hand were peering in. Number 2 only lasted a minute. He came with a grunt and a groan. I barely had time to take a whiff of my Poppers when Number 3 made his debut. Why didn't I resist? Why did I let those dudes take advantage of me like that? Well, friend, I gotta cum clean. I love gettin' laid. And until the novelty of getting gangbanged wore off, I was on Cloud Nine. Cock Number 3 was a good 7" and slid real slow in and out. It was kind of refreshing being fucked gently after getting reamed by Number 2. The two cretins waiting in the wings crowded into the booth, blindly straining to cop a feel, in the hope of getting a heads-up on the action. When Slow Poke #3 finally shot, he just kept cumming and cumming. Seed was pouring out of my Cunt, running down my Balls and my legs. He pulled out and I got fucked twice more, by Number 4, who had to weigh 300 pounds if he weighed an ounce, and a lanky Number 5 whose most notable feature was his ugly puss. It was hot in that damn little booth with no ventilation and an acrid fetor of Piss, Sweat, Cum, and B.O. My tennies stuck to the jizz-covered tiles so I felt trapped in time and space. Finally Pimples #5 pulled out. I thought I was alone and started to dress, when a Black Muscle Jock (Number 6) stumbled into the booth. Talk about a Monster Cock! He must have been 12" if anything at all, and thicker in circumference than any Dildo I'd ever seen in my life. I let out a half moan, half scream, as he plowed that Monster Dick up my slack Rosebud. He grabbed my hips and slammed in powerfully, till mercifully he shot a copious Load worthy of that humungous Shaft. The next thing I knew I was on the floor and SOMEONE was rimming my Ass. I thought it was a dream. After he lapped the Spooge outta my Cunt, he demanded I sit so he could “service my Dick.” He swallowed my shriveled Cock, which quickly ballooned, and I shot my pent-up Load down his parched throat. He was the first guy (Number 1) from the adjacent booth. He apologized profusely for having left the door open, thus allowing the gangbang to commence. On the plus side, he asserted he'd learned more about the Gay lifestyle from watching me than in all his earlier years. He'd been a fence-sitter most of his life, afraid of doing anything lest he contract HIV. Talk about making up for lost time—sucking me, getting sucked, then fucking my Ass! But the best part had been watching the quintuplets bang me and then eating their collective Cum out of my Ass. For him that had been a life-defining event. He and I exchanged numbers and email addresses and made arrangements to meat in several weeks (as I was off on one of my rare business trips). Unfortunately, it was a date I had to break. Shortly after cuming back, I came down with the Fuck Flu. No, I'm not that naive. Feverish as I was, in the middle of summer, I figured it had to be more than just the F-L-U. I called up my new Bud to postpone again. One week to the day later I gave him THE BUG.

I went downstairs, where there was a maze of mattresses, slings, and padded benches. I'd never in my life been in a place with so many dark recesses. The lighting consisted of numerous crisscrossed strings of midget colored Christmas lights so it was none too bright. I suppose the same could have been said of the clientele, many of whom no doubt suffered from AIDS dementia—like I gave a shit. This was a party, a randy orgy; no ifs, ands, or butts about it—no great intellect required. About 20 guys had gathered there, out of the 35 who eventually showed up. Already there was a lot of raw fucking going on. The place was jumping with homophiles, ages 20 - 65, whose bodies belied the ravages of an incurable disease just biding its time. Of course, no one was carding who was NEG and who was POZ, since, theoretically, everyone there was POZ since it was billed as a poz only party. There were bare Cocks everywhere, getting serviced by hot mouths or plunging unsheathed into unprotected Cunts. A Sandy-Blonde in his early forties stole up behind me, fingered my Hole, and slid his raw Dick up my Cunt (1). Yeah, he plowed me good; but there was a certain tenderness in the way he fucked. A small crowd milled about; and when he pulled out, another Dude relieved his butt. Not mincing words, that Top flipped me over on my knees and dogged me till he shot (2). I approached a long-time Pal, bent over to suck him off, and still another raw Dick snuck up my Butt (3). Eventually that Dude deposited his Load—an action to be replicated by numerous other Sodomites (4,5,6). I gave up trying to figure out who was banging whom, while my Bud's thick, uncut Manmeat scarfed down my throat. Finally my Uncut Bud decided he, too, had to have a piece of me, and led me to a Sling. He'd gotten really horned up watching the Anonymous Horde ding my Ass. The Slam!Slam!Slam! of his fat Shaft hammering my Shitter resounded wall-to-wall. But, alas, he didn't want to cum just yet, so we took a quote-unquote “break.” When I climbed the stairs to get a beer, a guy who'd seen me gettin' bred pursued me to the john and slid it in (7). A multi-talented Dude to be sure, he alternated between eating my sloppy Pussy and screwin' the BEJESUS outta me. I gripped the urine-spattered toilet bowl and held on for dear life—while his fellow barflies peed and peered and pined for a more protein brew. When I got back downstairs, I sat astride a vacant bench to watch the guy on the mattress next to me get dicked—the perfect vantage point from which to ogle a bare Cock force open a raw Hole as gobs of Toxic Spooge spewed out. A hot, hung Black strolled up within inches of my face. In one fell swoop, he yanked his towel off his waist and flung it about his neck. And there I was, confronted by his swaying, bobbing midnight Shaft. Of course I couldn't help myself and took advantage of the not so subtle invitation to sodomize that monster Shaft. I knew he'd been around the block cause I tasted Ass Juice on his Cock. He twirled me about as if I were just another piece of meat and plowed me good (8). Afterwards a handsome Blonde, who'd watched me get creamed, led me over to a mattress to service him. His was a delicious Cock, with loose, low-hanging Balls. As I sucked, another Black approached to fuck my Ass. but the Blonde pre-empted him, demanding I mount his phallic Shaft. Not to be denied, the Black inched up behind the two of us and slid his own Rod in beside the Blonde's (9). My Ass had been generously prelubed with Cum; otherwise taking two good-sized Dicks at once would have been nigh impossible for me. The Black shot first, but Blondie kept on truckin', making sure I got all the STD's the Black Guy had to offer as well as Blondie's Private Strain. One of the Spectators shot in my mouth. I passed it on to Blondie in a Kiss, then snaked my hand down and massaged the remnant on his Dick so he could fuck the rest of that manic Manseed up my Cunt (10). I guess that emboldened another of the Voyeurs, who slid his Dick in beside the Blonde's, making for my second Double-Dicking of the night (11). My legs were cramping. Remember, I'd been riding Blondie the whole time; but he still hadn't cum. So I eased off and jerked and sucked his unaccommodating Fuck Stick as other guys pinched and nibbled at his Nips; and he, in turn, frenched some lipodystrophic little Whore until, at last...I guided the Blonde Bomber's pulsing Cumstick up my Crack (12). The cadaverous little Shit was beside himself with Lust. So I pushed him down and sat on his face so the bony little Wastrel could eat Blondie's Cum outta my Ass. He kept jackin' his puny, midget uncut Tool with his scrawny birdlike claws; and when he was about to shoot, I snookered him and sank down on his Bantam Rod (13). I could tell from the scrunched-up, convoluted expression on his face that he detested being ridden as a Top. Tough Shit! After that I licked the Cum and Ass Juice off both Blondie and the wasted little Slut. I'd been at it several hours and needed to take a break. But—and this was a big Butt, indeed—a beefy guy with by far the biggest Dick I'd seen that night overpowered me and flipped me to the mat. I feigned to struggle beneath his weight, but he pried my shapely legs apart and raped my well-deserving Butt (14). I couldn't have escaped if I'd wanted to. But who says I wanted to? After that I decided to call it quits—while I still could hobble to my car. I'd enjoyed some of the finest fucking of my life. I'd been bred by more than a dozen Cocks and had taken 14 Noxious Loads—most, if not all of which, were POZ.

Living near a state park has its benefits. You meat lots of interesting types. Well, there are days when there no one’s around; but on other days the park is full of Gay men cruisin’. Mine was the only car in the lot when I pulled in, so I parked and started down the vine-glad trail to the lake when I saw a tow truck drive in. I reached the lake and sat down at a picnic bench. I had a lot to contemplate. I‘d just returned from the Doc who told me my Viral Load had spiraled out of control and my T-Cells had fallen below AIDS. I stared at the three indecipherables he’d written me. Still I wasn’t sure I was ready to go on Meds, but I wanted to keep all my options on the table. So I stuffed ‘em in my pocket and promptly forgot about them. I heard foot steps as the driver approached. Still preoccupied and figuring it was some guy cruisin’, I said “Hi,” but didn’t look up. He took his cell phone and slammed on the table beside me. I jumped. “Bad day?” I asked apprehensively, half prepared to ward off blows. He blurted out his wife had left him for his best friend. Tsk! Tsk! Another Breeder gone awry! But he wanted get it off his chest, and I was relieved to put that AIDS crap out of my mind, so we discussed his issues, not mine. He’d said he’d suspected she was messin’ around, but not with his best friend. He wasn’t exactly model material, but not bad for an average joe—tall, slimly built, with sideburns, and big gray-brown eyes. The cap concealed much of his face, but he looked good enough to eat. I hadn’t had sex, and I was hungry. He wore a pair of old jeans, threadbare at the knees, and an oil-stained gray worker’s shirt. A real blue collar kind of guy. His name was Stevie, or so I found out later. He’d been married for ten years and had worked hard to give her everything—but for most women hard is not enough. I couldn’t help but take a gander at his crotch, and what a crotch it was! What foolhardy bitch would give that up? I watched as he talked—full, sensuous lips, nose a little too large, strong and powerful hands, fully capable of putting out. He got up and walked down to the lake. Yep, his jeans were tight enough. And there was a small hole below his wallet pocket where alluring flesh showed through. He turned and caught me staring at him. “Married?” he asked. “No,” I replied. “Good for you!” He came back to the picnic table and sat down beside me. After pregnant silence, he sniffed the air. “You smell real nice.” “I just came from the Doctor’s office.” “Nothing serious, I hope.” “Nothing I can’t live without.” We laughed and stared into each others’ eyes. “You gay?” “What do you think?” A pregnant pause. “I think yes.” “That bother you?” “To each his own.” The conversation had taken my kind of turn, and I didn’t want to let it drop. I took a chance and let my hand fall to his thigh. I figured he might expect that from a gay. He didn’t cringe nor shrink away. I pretended to brush my hair out of my eyes, and let my hand fall on his crotch. A tiny moan. So he’d come there for consolation, after all! Emboldened I massaged circles on his bulge. A groan! Full steam ahead! Glancing about to make sure we were still alone, I unzipped his jeans and licked at his cotton briefs. He’d zombied out on me. I pulled down his briefs, exposing a tumescent cock. Dead Giveaway #1. A drop of precum said it all. He didn’t have to say a word. I let my tongue caress his frenum and whisked it away. “Man, that was sweet!” Torpidity—I didn’t know what was going through his mind, but it was too late to stop! I’d started something I had to finish. Besides, it’d be a shame to let this Breeder go to waste. Checking to see we were alone, I sucked his dickhead in my mouth. No longer able to suppress his lust, he rammed it down my throat. Compliantly, he shifted as I tugged at his jeans. Stubbornly his sweaty briefs clung to his thighs, but I finally got them down around his knees. I cupped his sweaty, cum-filled balls, sucking each into my mouth. He moaned again as I ran my tongue over his dickhead. “Man, I’m gonna’ shoot!” In total abandonment he plowed in and out. His thick black pubes grazed my lips and mouth. Before my gag reflex kicked in, his sweet NEG cum spurted down my throat. I became aware my ass was wet. After all, it had been a week! He fell back on the table. I kept that dickhead in my mouth, determined to suck up every drop of NEG manseed. “Man, I needed that!” I invited him over for a beer, and the Tow Truck followed my car. So what was a POZ guy like me doing foolin’ around with a NEG married man? Well, I’ll tell let me clue you in, my friend. You gotta take what cums along. Besides, I had something special to offer him. He parked on the street, and I in the garage. We started kissing before the garage door was fully down. As I’d hoped, his hands went straight for my butt. I led him to the bedroom and undressed his ass. I dropped to my knees, licked his dick through sweaty shorts, and felt up his legs and butt. I made short shrift of those damp jockeys, and before me stood was one very nicely built straight NEG married man. His dick stuck straight out with ever so slight a curve up and out. But I sensed he still hadn’t come to terms with what we were about to do. “Your wife never sucked you off?” “Hell, no! She hated cum.” “She like gettin’ fucked?” “Said it hurt a lot.“ I told him point blank his dick was just right for those of us who love it big, thick, and NEG. Well, forget the POZ/NEG part for now. I’d let nature take its course. I pushed him back on the bed, got down between his legs, and sucked him off, mouthing his balls, one egg at a time. Meekly he lifted his leg and I got my first glimpse of his sweet mancunt. I determined then and there to have that pussy before the night was through! My tongue darted in and out of his A-Hole, rimming his butt like it was goin’ outta style. For a moment I thought he'd bust a gut, especially when, without being bidden, he held his ass cheeks apart and pushed back to meat my tongue. “GODDAMN!” rolled off his lips. He was like putty in my mouth. I pulled him up, and we kissed—Gay, Man-to-Man. I spit between his lips. He swallowed eagerly. His hands were all over me—feeling, touching, caressing, rubbing. His fingers went to my cunt. For a novice, he sure knew the right moves. I let out a moan when he touched my pussy. “I’d love to fuck you.” “I’d love for you to fuck me, too.” “Use condoms or anything?” I grabbed the Vaseline and massaged a big gob on his shaft. I inched up astride him, lined up his big dick with my ass cunt and slid down on him. As I rode his pole, he began pumping like I was the first real fuck of his life. In a sense I suppose I was. I rolled us over until I was on my back. Then I lifted my legs astride his broad shoulders, which made him the Aggressor. No denying that. He fucked like he was trying to get his whole body into mine; and, between us, we made sloppy fucking sounds. His breathing grew labored. He pulled all the way out and rammed it back in. Twice more and then he shot—so hard I thought we’d both pass out. I used my ass muscles to milk his dick, craving every drop of Sweet NEG Cum—assuming he was still NEG. He fell atop me, his dick inside me. I rubbed his ass, thinking what a ass it was—nice, tight, firm, smooth to the touch. And soon it would to be mine! His cock came out, still semi-hard, so I knelt down and sucked it clean of NEG Cum and POZ ass juice. “HOT DAMN! That was great!” He didn’t know how SPECIAL it was! Doubting his inexperience, I asked if he’d ever been with a man before. He probably lied when he replied he’d never been with a guy before. And I was more determined than ever to help him convert. But the dude had drifted off. I stared at him wondering how he’d gotten so fucked up, getting hitched with some stupid bitch, when he was obviously naturally gay. He opened his eyes and caught me staring at him. “I’d like to try getting fucked sometime. “ “I think that can be arranged.” The guy was just beggin’ to be BRED! An opportunity like that doesn’t cum along everyday. And you gotta strike while the iron is hot! Again he dozed, as I lay there plotting my next move.

Let me make it perfectly clear—when I wasn't attending classes, I was at the Baths. I even studied there while my fellow classmates hung out in the stacks. Then I got sick and tested POZ. I quit school to reevaluate my life and swore off sex, so that I wouldn't do to any other guy what had been done to me. At 21 I sought refuge from my personal conundrum in the hustle and bustle of 9-to-5. I clerked at uncle's law firm. Of course, he didn't know the real reason I had taken a hiatus from the collegiate world—beyond my vague explanation that I needed respite from the rigors of the academia—I was burnt out. Likewise the official line was I had hurt my hamstring playing soccer, when actually I had slipped in the whirlpool while getting gangbanged at the Baths. So my whole life seemed a string of fabrications, and I was sick and tired of the whole thing. But my injury actually was debilitating—so I sought the services of a Masseur. My favorite was this little storefront spa, and it always seemed pretty upright and legit—right up until the hot and humid lunch time I walked in and all the beds were full. My usual Masseur was tied up with other guys, so I was faced with the alternative of being treated by a flaky little Fag I’d never seen before or a Masseuse. Okay, since, I was partial to Queers to begin with (understatement of the year) I followed the mincing little Queen downstairs where they had a couple of spare rooms. We were totally alone; and I got my usual raging Hard-On, which I always get in the presence of a Fag—a phenomenon which had begun the very day of my self-imposed abstinence and continued to then and there. As usual I ignored myself; and, anyway, it hardly mattered, since I was still fully dressed. He left me in a room to change, and I stripped down quickly to my boxer shorts and lay face down in the over air-conditioned atmosphere, the effect of which, I hoped, would simulate a cold shower. But the wimpy little Fag returned too soon, and for the next 10 or 15 minutes, the mere touch of the horny little Wastrel wreaked havoc on my bod. With his paws resting on my buttocks, he inquired if any part of my anatomy was in need of special service. I bit my tongue and dutifully, and true to my vow of continence, gave him the straight version about my leg. Anyway, he started with my Ass, which wasn't that unusual, but his technique was definitely sensual—concupiscently different—and I figured he couldn't help himself. Neither, in retrospect, could I. He worked his hands beneath my boxers; and they felt warm and good. Old instincts never die, and subconsciously I began making little fucking motions on the table. I think he read, or maybe misread, my intentions because he oiled up my body, from neck to ankles, which was SOP, but then his nimble fingers began to caress the inside of my boxers, his slick digits gently probing the sensitive boundaries of my Cunt. His lips barely inches from my ear lobes, he whispered in his native New Yorkese, "I hope you're feeling better. I always aim to please." Yes, no denying he was good. But I couldn’t let it happen. I looked up and smiled lamely, resolute in my determination not to encourage him. Undeterred, he smiled back, pulled off my boxers, and ordered me to flip. At first oblivious to my Erection, he oiled my chest, and upper thighs, before caving on my Balls, massaging them with his greasy fem mitts, till, finally, he slid up to jack my Cock. I closed my eyes and prayed, “Lead us not into temptation...." He inched closer to the table and dropped his trou. He, too, was wearing boxers. He slid them down; and, unrestrained, a thick six inches popped out before my face. “But deliver us from evil.…" My supplication was rudely interrupted by that all too familiar edit I'd succumbed to all my life. "SUCK IT!" His belly jutted forward, his Cock, the first since my Conversion to brush my lips. Like on autopilot, they parted as he plunged into my mouth. It was awkward. I was lying on my side, and my jaw began to ache. ‘THIS IS STUPID! THIS IS NOT YOUR EVERYDAY MASSAGE!’ Pragmatically I jumped down off the table and knelt down in front of him. He began to fuck my face. He already had his shirt off, his pants down around his ankles, his Cock glistening with Precum. Like the poor, deprived Fucker that I was, I found myself ravishing his Cock. "At least," I thought, "this minor indiscretion, still on the safe side, would cause him no lasting harm." But then he pulled out of my mouth and bent over to the table. "eat my Ass!" Remember I’d been deprived for months. And, after all, no one gets AIDS from just doing Oral. So I compliantly rammed my tongue into his Rosebud, and soon I found myself enthusiastically savoring the nectar of the little Queen’s Ass Juices, my mug planted firmly up his Butt. "NOW FUCK ME!" "I CAN’T! NOT WITHOUT A CONDOM!" "Why not? I don’t have any STD’s." "BECAUSE I'M POZ!" He turned around and started at me agawk. I felt like a bug under a microscope. "You got HIV?" He stuttered, struggling to comprehend. Without warning he reached out and twisted my Nip with all his might! "Ouch!" I said I'm POZ, not dead, goddammit! " "I'm not so sure. Let's see." With that, he bent down to suck me, taking my shriveled Cock between his lips. Talk about an explosion—his hot soft mouth the first to caress my Death Stick since last year. They say the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. And the sensation of his tight thin faggoty lips dancing on my Dick Head decimated every ounce of my resistance, as months of stymied PreCum oozed out of my Piss Slit. "Hmmmm, Yum-Yum! Tastes fit enough. And I still want you to fuck me," he advised, plunging his tongue deep down my throat. For the first time since that fateful day at the Doctor's office I responded indulgently—returning his caresses with every ounce of Lust and Passion I'd suppressed those many months. And as I reached down to grope his Penis, he did a quick 180, bracing his arms against the table, bucking back against my Cock. I gasped loudly as my ever-ready Death Stick, slick with Precum, oils and spit, lunged forward of its own volition and plunged into his Cunt. I'd been close before I entered him, and his tight, wet warm enticing tunnel led me to shudder and convulse. I never did understand his motivation, perhaps some willful, self-destructive need, yet all I could think of while I fucked him was, “Honey, Welcome to the Club.” I can assure you my reaction was on the purely instinctive side. And you wouldn't believe how I spasmed as my Toxic Jizm assailed his Mancunt. POZ or NEG—it hardly mattered. He’d helped me see the light. Suffice it to say, from that day forward, I never again gave a fuck about Status, and never again volunteered anything about it, lying if I was asked.

I got out to take a walk and smoke and cruise the truckers in the lot. Cars and trucks were interspersed. The same could be said for many of their occupants—getting each other off in the dark recesses of the woods. I watched a sated trucker haul ass outta there just as another pulled in to take his place. The driver smirked—his bod perked up—as he set his sights between my legs. Our eyeballs locked, and he stretched to unlock the passenger side door. He pulled the curtains partly closed and peered out through the little bit of window left unveiled till our eyes entwined again. After a moment's faltering, weighing the pros and cons, I hopped into the cab. I found him lying on his bunk, flaunting his hairy bod. I bent down to suck the Fucker off, milking his oozing Pole with my hot and slimey lips. Pulling off that funky, unwashed Cock, I tongue-bathed his frenum and his balls. He moaned and raised his hairy legs, letting them cum to rest beside my ears. Fuckmeat to be sure! But first I wanted to—no!—strike that!—had to—subdue the Dude. I stripped and lay down on top him. Our lips collided violently. I spit into his mouth. He swished my spit between his lips like the connoisseur he was. I sucked the salty exudation from his pits, while my expert fingers made mincemeat of will! All the while my hungry Cock stabbed blindly at his Cunt. At the height of his enthrallment, in the throes of his ecstasy, I drew his hirsute thighs apart to administer the rimming of his life. Few guys, Gay or Straight, can withstand my hungry tongue; and his moans confirmed this Trucker Dude had fallen right in line. "Flip over so I can do you right." Compliantly, without a peep, he rolled over and offered me his Butt. On his right Cheek was this tattoo—two hearts and "Amy's Slut." "Who's Amy? Wife? Girlfriend?" "Yeah, but we're gettin' a divorce." "Let me guess. She found out you fuck around." "Hell, no! I'm the one divorcing her!" I buried my tongue up his Mancunt and spit on his Pussy several times. I worked a digit up his Crack. I wanted him all slimey, wet and hot. Nonetheless, I plowed in slowly—letting him adjust. But all for naught—his well-worn Pussy could only have gotten that stretched out from years of taking Cock. "She ever strap a Dildo on?" Insidious chat at best. "No way! I was just her 'cuckold,' so to speak." "Her what!?" "She'd bring her boyfriends home and let me watch. Every now and then she'd toss me one if she liked the way I’d dressed--in heels, short skirt, and lacey bra with neon lipstick that smeared all over my face and on their Cocks when I went down on them. I'd usually cum away with lipstick smeared from ear to ear, Cum drippin' down my chin. I got pretty good at suckin’ Cock—if I do say so myself." "Is that all you did--suck the Fuckers off?" "I'd eat their Balls and Assholes, too." "They ever fuck you?" "The Bi ones did, and some of the so-called 'Straights.'" "Bareback?" "There were no condoms in the house." I'd heard enough. After I'd nutted him, he asked me to suck him off. "Sorry. I just shot. You better try the woods for that." I dressed and left. I suppose he thought it rude of me—not to reciprocate. But, hey, you gotta do what's best for Number One!

I'd come to town to see my favorite white trash band. I love attending their concerts, though I stand out from the crowd and often get taken for a drug dealer—or worse—a cop! I'm not tall, but stocky and well built. And, I suppose, being black with a killer smirk, materially contributes to my straight white world formidability. Gay-wise, I'm just the opposite. I'd fuck myself if that were possible. So there I was in town to see this garbage band, when I got the sorry news—concert cancelled—their tour bus broken down 200 miles north. Actually the city wasn't new to me. I'd been there before and had a few acquaintances—but nothing serious—no Fuck Buds or anything. I tried to make the best of a bad scene and called up a trick from the last time I was in town. But Rob was preoccupied—with a mutual acquaintance of ours—actually a good friend of mine from my neck of the woods. Todd was a sweet guy and a father figure to me. He had a thing for Blacks, but had never put the make on me for fear of POZZING me. Tsk! Tsk! So, after exchanging pleasantries, I hung up the phone and, likewise, hung up the concert duds I wouldn't get to wear that night. After a nap, I planned on heading out to the Baths. I felt deprived and in need of an ego boost. When I awoke, I showered and preened for an evening on the town. The phone rang, and it was Rob and Todd downstairs. Todd pulled out a joint and passed it to me, while Rob massaged my chest, and his fingertips felt like electric prods as they danced across my tits. They invited me to go bar-hopping with them; but that seemed too hit-or-miss. So Rob suggested I check out The Cellar, a bathhouse catering to a more diverse, if older, crowd. He even had a discount pass for me. After a couple beers, Todd handed me another joint and told me to save it for the next guy who really turned me on. Horny as I was, I knew Mr. Perfect would shortly cum along. I took a wrong turn and drove for what seemed like hours up and down the dark, deserted downtown streets. So it was past 10 when I arrived. Since I had Rob's coupon in my pocket, I splurged and got a room. Having gotten lost, I felt a little out of sorts; and the other joint Todd had given me looked SOOOOH ENTICING. I caved, and leaned back on the bunk. Finally, at peace with the world, gripping my ever present Poppers bottle, I headed out to cruise the world. AN OPEN DOOR! INSIDE A BEAR BEATING HIS MEAT! On the third approach, I inched into the archway and caressed my privates through my towel. He waved me in and promptly rammed his funky Uncut down my throat. Attracted by his moans and groans, a group of perverts gathered outside his door. He was a vociferous one, he was! Another hit of Poppers, and all hell broke loose. The beers, the joint, and Poppers all hit me at once. It was seconds before it dawned on me he was cuming down my throat; and, much more to my liking, someone else was fingering my Cunt. I swallowed and excused myself from the Bear's room, and the gawkers started to disperse. I stumbled down the hall; and, as I hoped, Magic Fingers caught up with me and rammed his finger up my Butt. My basic instincts tend toward passivity, so I stood there in the center of the hall, buck naked, my towel crumpled about my feet, as he slid another digit in beside the first. Like vultures circling easy prey, guys surrounded us again, and a real mean Dude with an even meaner Dick approached and tweaked my Nips. "OUCH! GODAMMIT! HURTS!" But he ignored my anguished pleas and twisted them unmercifully till I was up on tippy toes moaning like a Slut. Mainly to shut me up, I suppose, he rammed his putrid, halitosistic lingua down my throat. At last he relaxed his death-grip on my titties; and I slumped down on my heels, only to be greeted by two more digits up my Cunt--shy by a thumb of a Full Fist. My Pussy felt distended like it'd never been before—a gaping Vulva begging penetration by all the Faggot Bastards ogling me. Up till then I'd never taken more than a three fingers up my Cunt—and was half inclined to bolt—when some kleptomaniacal Punker yanked my Poppers from my palm and practically rammed the whole damn vial up my schonz. First whiff, and I wished Magic Fingers would probe deeper. Second whiff, and I leaned backwards, forcing Magic Fingers deeper up my Cunt. "YOU FUCK?" he asked, as I bent down to blow Rough Trade. Not waiting for an answer, Magic Fingers rammed his whole 8-Inches up my Butt! Bucked forward by this penile penetration, Rough Trade's entire 7-Incher slid with no resistance down my throat. Startled as I was by the turn events had taken, it was, nonetheless, Nirvana as they ground away at my Holes from both ends. From all angles and directions, guys emerged out of the woodwork, and one concupiscent protagonist crawled beneath us to suck my Cock. Cum, Sweat, and Piss puddled everywhere, and the Thief who'd swiped my Poppers kept them pressed tight against my nostrils so the Orgy could proceed ad nauseum. Finally, when Magic Fingers withdrew his Deathstick, I wilted like a wet noodle, sinking to my knees. Rivulets of creamy skank oozed forth from my Pussy like putrid exudation from an industrial canal. Guys everywhere beat their Meat, awaiting a chance to bury their Hatchets up my Ass, until, finally, one concerned observer asked if I needed help. Meekly I glanced up into the smirking countenance of Rob. He commended me for taking on all Cumers. "And I did enjoy the Piece of Ass, thank you. But there's another who craves your Mancunt even more than I did." I followed the direction of his nod, and there, behind a couple Old Trolls, stood Todd. Petty me bemoaned my stolen Poppers bottle. A tall, skinny Dude with a Biohazard Tat on his 'cep came to my rescue. He was the second to compliment me on being a "Great Fuck." "Here," he offered, handing me his nearly empty vial. "You need 'em more than I do." Suddenly it dawned on me. While I'd been bent over, halfway to LaLa Land, MR. POZ TAT and his cohorts had had their way with me. I surveyed the sticky tile floor beneath me—befouled with drying Cum—not a discarded Condom anywhere. Todd smiled. "Now, are you ready for my Load?" The question, if it was one, was largely rhetorical. We hightailed it to his room. Steady streams of spoogey, creamy rivulets trickled down my thighs; and with each step a telltale "Squish, Squish, Squish" emanated from my Cunt.

Last week I got my test results back. As of then I still tested NEG. But today? Who fuckin’ knows? Not after last night. I invited a hot Latin top home from the bar. We fooled around for a while, and I let him get me in the missionary position with his Dick just outside my Cunt. I pushed back just a little, letting the head inch on in—just a little—using no lube. I love that kind of foreplay—a dry Cock at the door, really just teasing—prior to applying the lube. At least I’d assumed he was teasing. He kissed me and rammed his tongue down my throat. As I gagged, he drove all 8" up my dry Pussy! I screamed—it hurt so bad! He held it in there steady—not moving—realizing I had reached the outer tolerance of my endurance. I held my bated breath. Status hadn't even come up. After a bit, I had to admit how good he felt within me, flesh against flesh, with only my ass juices and his precum for lube. Everyman’s dream—certainly mine. Tentatively I milked his dick with my ass muscles and started to rock back and forth. ‘Go ahead! Fuck me!’ careened through my mind. He screwed me gently. The friction between his bare cock and my unlubed ass must have been driving him wild; but for my part, I was in pain. I figured I was bleeding a lot, and my blood must have been serving as lube—for whenever he came within an inch of my prostate—I almost shot. His thrusts grew ever wilder as he disregarded me as a person—just another impersonal mancunt to fuck. I felt humiliated, but more importantly, physically shredded—as I cried out in pleasure and pain. "Please cum! Cum up my ASS!" "Yeahhhh!" he growled in agreement as he fucked me like I was the last faggot on earth. "Take my poz charge!" When I heard those words and felt his dick spasm, I shot all over my chest. He pulled out. "I think I bred you good, little man." I looked down and the sheets beneath me were bloody. I hurt really bad. Still—I had that rare sensation in the pit of my stomach—the one that you get only after you’ve experienced a life changing conversion. And I loved and I loathed him for making the inevitable cum to pass.

I am a 44 year old black male, 6’2”, 240, masculine, clean cut, on the DL, and, oh yeah, POZ since 2000. All this happened last week. Tells you what I like. I was on the prowl at the bathhouse looking for action, and locked eyes with this very exotic looking man. I figured him to be in his 50s, average build, maybe 6’ tall,. I couldn’t help notice his intense blue eyes that stood in stark contrast to his dark, coppery skin. I guessed he was from somewhere in the Middle East. He had curly salt-and-pepper hair and a very hairy chest. We played the normal bathhouse game for about 20 minutes. I followed him into the video room, where he began to jack off to the porn. I couldn’t resist and sat down beside him and immediately laid eyes on one of the most beautiful Uncut Dicks I’d ever seen. This—from a Dude who usually prefers cut Anglo guys. It didn’t take long till I was stroking that married Uncut Dick till I got it slick with my Spit and PreCum. Helpless as he was, he was easy pickings as I forced his head to my chest and made him suck my Nips. Right there in the presence of a gathering assemblage, I got down on my knees and licked his Cock while I played with his Balls. He had one of the hairiest crotches that I’ve ever seen on a man. His manly, musky odor made my head spin. He leaned back, giving me easy access to his huge, hirsute Balls. I worked my tongue way up behind those Great Hairy Balls—in pursuit of the Ultimate Prize. He had a foreign accent I didn’t recognize. He was an engineer from Turkey, on vacation with his wife and his kids. Apparently I wasn’t the only one on the DL. He’d escaped for the night on the pretence of visiting old buddies and had immediately caught a cab to this bathhouse, renown for its easy sex and a substantial Black clientele. He said he dug Blacks and found me highly attractive and would love to spend some time with me if I wished. After I bragged about how I was the most DDF guy on the planet, I steered him by the waist up to my room. We kissed and made out, and, eventually I worked my way back down to his Dick and his Balls, which had been my intent all along. I knelt down and took aim at his Mancunt. Judging from his reaction, I had a committed Bottom on my hands. He had more than the usual amount of hair around his shiny pink Pussy, and I tongued my way in. The smell of his Mancunt had just the right amount of Funk mixed with Sweat, and it made my head spin. I got him down on the bed and sniffed and licked and sucked with his knees pressed to my chest for the next 15 minutes, then lay on my back and had him squat over my face for some serious rimming. He spread his Ass Cheeks and worked his Hole back and forth over my nose and tongue, as I forced my tongue deep up his Pussy. When his Ass Lips tightened up, I could tell he was close. Quickly I flipped him over on his back and strode atop him. As I bent down to cover his mouth with my own, I lifted his legs onto my shoulders and —home sweet home! His Pussy, no doubt stretched out from years of practice, in collaboration with his desperate, immediate need, offered not the slightest resistance as I slid in on a blanket of Spit and Ass Juices. To say the least I shot wad after wad of POISON JIZZ up his Mancunt. To distract him I grabbed his Dick which I beat off like mad. He shot all over our stomachs, and I knelt down to lick up every LAST NEGATIVE DROP. We cuddled for a couple of minutes. He made the excuse he’d better shower, and he put on his towel and left. I never saw him again, but I hope I managed to cede (seed) him THE GIFT.

We change sexually as we get older. How has your sex life changed over the years? Here are some of my changes... I didn't realize guy gave themselves hand jobs until I was in college. I always humped the bed (think frottage with one person). I remember giving myself a handjob for the first time in my sister's living room watching porn (while she was at work). I was probably a Junior in college by that point. [i still hump the bed sometimes. It feels good.] I used to like condoms. I liked the tightness on my dick and I liked the fact that they protected my dick from shit. My favorite way to cum used to be riding a guy's cock (face to face) and jacking my dick. The orgasm's were intense that way. Haven't done that in almost 20 years. I used to get into butt plugs. I remember in college wearing them to classes. Didn't do that very often though. This was before I actually had sex with another guy. I remember how painful it was to get the butt plug out after being in there for hours, and how the hole didn't close up - there was a perfectly round hole that stayed open for a while after I took out the butt plug. This is a little off topic but related to the last one... I also remember buying this HUGE dildo in college (before I actually had sex). I tried so hard to get it up my ass, but in hindsight you'd pretty much need to be a fist pig to get something that big up your hole. I used to be so disappointed that I couldn't get it up there - I spent a lot of time trying... So how about you? What did you used to get into sexually that doesn't really interest you anymore?

One of our users, MixMutt (Sam Storicks), died the other day. I'm really going to miss him. I used to follow him on Twitter and his humor was so dry and sarcastic it would make me laugh. He just had a way of looking at things that was different than everyone else. He was special. Sam was a flight attendant and a DJ. I always wanted to meet up with him when he was in NYC, but the last time he was in NYC (about a week before he died) he just had enough time to sleep and he was staying way out by JFK so it wasn't really possible to meet up with him. http://twitter.com/MixMutt http://www.facebook.com/sam.storicks?ref=search Here are a few pics of him (he was one of the first to post a gallery of pics here)... See more pics of him in his photo album - he uploaded the max 60 pics. Life can be short. Make sure you enjoy it.

Hey RawPlay4Now - Welcome to Breeding Zone! Hope you have a great time in SF. You can add you're A4A, BBRT and YIM profile names in your profile here (forget if you can add the AOL one). The YIM one actually shows up as an icon on your posts so guys can click and chat with you.

Flashcard - If I haven't said it yet - Welcome to Breeding Zone! Your top's reaction reminds me of an ex-boyfriend I had who just couldn't deal with the fact that he was poz. He had a hard time admitting it to himself, never mind someone else. It wasn't until I found a KS lesion on him that he admitted it (years into the relationship). But that was 1993/1994 and things were different back then 'cause ARVs hadn't come out yet. You're the perfect person to confront him about it because you love him, and having it out in the open won't change anything between the two of you. I may make the sex more intense. But he'll be better off if he comes to terms with it and learns to accept himself and love himself. Fear and self-loathing are never good for the soul. In terms of a poz top not being upfront about his status. There may be legal implications, but he is on meds so chances are his viral load is "undetectable" so he's probably shooting blanks and the risk to the guys he fucks is low. It sounds like he rubbers up most of the time anyway. I wouldn't approach him from that perspective anyway. The core issue is that he needs to accept himself and love himself.

How much of your difficulty has to do with being HIV positive, and how much has to do with psychological issues, and how much of it is due to drug use? You have a particularly difficult combination of issues to deal with. Most people don't have the same difficulties you have. I have a lot of poz friends. I know a fair amount about their lives. So while I'm not poz (as far as I know), I don't think my perspective is too far off base. I'm all for discussion. I think people should think about their sex lives and make informed decisions. At the same time when I see someone saying they got fuck flu 6 months after getting fucked, or they only got barebacked once and became poz - I'm going to challenge that because it doesn't match what we know, scientifically about HIV. And no, I'm not selling data off the site. Porn site memberships, yes. Data, no. And to be clear - you're welcome here.

Ummm.... "Pubes" / "Pubic Hair" is the hair above the dick, not the hair around the guy's ass...

@Deaner - When a woman is the subject of genital mutilation it means she can never have an orgasm again in her life. It's a much bigger deal than circumcision and people should be arrested and punished for it.

@hurtmewithit_ct - Welcome to Breeding Zone! Glad you're here...

That's not how it works (I used to teach statistics). Looking back at the risks you took you can basically plug in the numbers and figure out what was the most likely cause of infection. We're talking about all the sex you had the year between your negative test and your positive test. The fact that the guy was indeed poz just means you pick a different risk factor for that incident. I still say it was unlikely you were infected at that time. Yes, you may not test poz for 3-6 months, but you don't get fuck flu 6 months later. It just doesn't happen.