JustAFrecklyWriter

It will be Isaiah!

Patient 4: Dylan “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re HIV-positive.” Those were the words that changed Dylan’s life forever. He’d known it was coming. He and Ed had been fucking since the spring; it was only a matter of time until he was infected too. If he was being honest, he’d already known somewhere deep inside that he’d carried the disease. But this was the moment it finally became real. As he sat alone in that dark gray hospital room, those words ringing in his ears, he waited for the inevitable wave of fear and anxiety to come crashing down on him. Nothing happened. “I have some pamphlets here if you’re interested in learning more,” said the nurse gently. He took them from her, trying to avoid the look of pity in her eyes. Surely the fear would come any minute, and her pity would be justified. After all, they said that AIDS was a death sentence. He could see how it affected Ed, weakening his body and suppressing his spirit. Who knows how long until the disease ravaged his body and tore it apart from the inside out? But as he sat on that crinkly white paper, trying to avoid her pitiful gaze, he didn’t feel scared at all. He felt relief. “Thank you,” he said. “I think I’d like a minute to myself if that’s all right.” The nurse nodded. “Take as long as you need.” When she left, he let out a deep breath. He looked around the room at the ugly shade of paint on the wall. He laughed to himself. “I’m HIV positive,” he said breathlessly. He looked at his hands. They looked the same as ever. It was almost like he could feel his blood pumping, warming his limbs. He felt light and giddy. He ran his fingers across his arm, shivering at how sensitive he felt. “I’m poz…” He slipped his hand underneath his shorts, under the waistline of his underwear. He grabbed his dick, stroking it softly as it grew to full length. He rubbed his thumb over the head, wiped off the smear of precum beading at the edge of his cock, and brought it to his lips. He slipped his thumb inside, swirling the taste around in his mouth. “Fuck…” It had been years since he’d tasted his own cum, but he never remembered it tasting as heavenly as it did now. He sucked on his thumb, getting it nice and wet before sliding it back down his shorts and into his hole. He grabbed his cock with his other hand, laying back against the table as he milked himself. He could picture Ed’s face in his mind, that smug grin that was equal parts infuriating and intoxicating. It was Ed’s seed that flowed through him now, that leaked from his cock as he worked out his first positive load. He wanted to christen this experience, to immortalize the moment he first knew definitively that he was a dirty, fucked up, free man. “Ugh… oh fuck… oh yes!” He wiggled his thumb into his hole as deep as it would go, then cried out as his cock sprayed his tainted load all over his chest. The poz seed soaked through his shirt, staining it with his gift. He ran his fingers through the cum and sucked it down, savoring the thick globs of dirty sperm. When he left the hospital that day, he was a changed man. The things that had weighed him down before no longer mattered. At first, he wondered if he was just in shock. That the high would come crashing down and leave him wrecked like the rest of the men he’d seen get infected. But the comedown never came. For the first time in his life, he felt like he finally knew who he was. The virus had given that to him–it had made everything clear. Years of putting on appearances and trying to live double lives washed away in an instant. He had finally embraced his true self–a sick, perverted, cum-guzzling faggot. He didn’t share his newfound revelation with Ed. The man was too unpredictable, still in denial about having AIDS. Dylan almost felt sorry for him at times, until he remembered the way that Ed had shamelessly infected him without a second thought for his well-being. Not that Dylan really minded–he was actually grateful to him now. But that didn’t change the fact that Ed’s reaction to being poz and Dylan’s reaction to being poz were two different things. No, Dylan would have to maintain the illusion until the point of no return. By that time, Ed would be too weak to leave. At times he wondered if he didn’t want Ed to leave because he didn’t want to lose Ed’s money or because he didn’t want to lose Ed’s dick. He knew he could probably have any man in Manhattan if he really put his mind to it. He’d been with plenty of well-off, powerful men in the few months he’d been escorting before Ed. But there was something about the old man that he found thrilling and erotic, and, if he was being honest with himself, incredibly similar to his father. Perhaps it was the self-loathing, the arrogance, the selfishness. His dad certainly had that in spades. Or perhaps it was the fact that, as Ed’s body began to waste and rot away, he was only becoming more and more attractive to him. Then around Christmas, Ed’s health took a serious turn for the worse. He became bedridden, leaving Dylan with the responsibility of being his primary caretaker. He didn’t mind–after all, he was living solely on Ed’s dime, and he still harbored some affection for the man. But Ed’s condition left him feeling isolated. He had no one else to talk to, no one to confide in his feelings about being poz and the freedom it gave him. He needed to find someone who understood, someone who felt the way that he did. He found what he was looking for in late February: an ad in the local gay paper for an HIV/AIDS support group in Chelsea. It met on Monday afternoons in a small room in someone’s apartment, densely furnished with bric-a-brac and reeking of potpourri. When he walked in, he was surprised to see only a handful of people there. “Please, join us,” said a kind-looking Asian man in his early 30s. “We’re just about to start.” Dylan sat in the only empty chair in the circle. To his left was a handsome black man in his late 20s, and to his right, a sickly thin man with light red hair. He tried not to stare at the sick man, wanting to be respectful. But curiosity drew his gaze–he knew this would be his fate eventually. The thought didn’t scare him, surprisingly. The Asian man clapped his hands together and smiled at them. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Vincent. I started this group to be a safe space for anyone with HIV or AIDS who wants to share their experience and those of us like myself who are negative but deeply impacted by this epidemic. We’ve all experienced the fear and stigma out there. But this is a safe place to discuss that without fear of judgment. Now, who would like to begin?” The man with red hair raised his hand. “I mean, I guess I’ll start.” He pulled out a handkerchief and coughed into it. Then he laughed wryly. “It’s not like it’s hard to tell I’m sick. My work fired me the second one of these showed up.” He pointed to a purple lesion on the back of his forearm. “But the hardest part has been my partner. He’s so scared of getting it he won’t even sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Every time I cough he cowers away from me, like he’s afraid I’ll infect him. It’s like… I wish he would just leave me, you know? At least that way I would feel like he’s being honest with me.” Dylan frowned. He suddenly felt like his very presence was offensive. “Thank you, Ryan.” Vincent turned to Dylan. “How about our newcomer? Would you like to share?” Dylan felt a jolt of adrenaline as all eyes turned to him. “Well… I think maybe I should just listen-” “Nonsense. Whatever you have to say, this is a safe place.” “Okay. Well… I just tested positive a few months ago.” Vincent nodded. “That must have been difficult.” Dylan bit his lip. “But… that’s the thing. It wasn’t.” Vincent tilted his head, a confused smile on his face. “How do you mean?” “I mean, I wasn’t upset. I was happy.” He looked around at the men in the group. “I felt… powerful, you know? Like I had been given this gift, this lineage that stretched back to so many men before me. A brotherhood of men like me who loved to fuck and get fucked. They want us to be ashamed of being gay, but I just felt this sense of freedom for the first time in my life. Like I could fuck whoever I wanted without being afraid.” He grew more passionate as something was unleashed inside him. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, you know? We’re poz. We’re freed from all that societal bullshit and those ridiculous expectations. Now we can just fuck like we’re meant to-” “That’s enough.” Vincent was not smiling anymore. “How dare you come in here and say those things?” He blushed. “I’m sorry. This is just how I feel, I’m not trying to-” Vincent’s face was red with anger. “These men are sick. Some of them sicker than others. But they are sick and they are dying. How dare you make AIDS some kind of… freedom? It’s a death sentence.” “But that’s what I’m talking about,” Dylan said desperately. “I don’t think it has to be. I think if you embrace it, if you let it in and you do what it wants, I think it can free you. That’s what happened to me. I knew I was gonna get it, I think I wanted it in a way. It’s like I knew it would give me a new life, and it could do the same for you if you’ll only let it-” “I think you should leave.” Vincent stood up, his finger pointed toward the door. Dylan looked around the room. The other men avoided his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll go.” He walked out of the apartment, his cheeks burning. Tears sprang to his eyes as he descended the stairs. Why was he the only one who felt this way? Why didn’t they understand, why couldn’t they see? He had just left the building when he heard his name being called. “Dylan, wait!” The handsome black man from the meeting had followed him out of the meeting. He smiled at him, showing off a pearly white grin. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” As they sat in a diner down the street, both clutching mugs of shitty Folgers coffee, Dylan studied the man in front of him. His hair was natural and textured, with short locks that jutted out from every angle. He had a close-trimmed beard that enclosed two beautiful lips, lips that Dylan couldn’t help but stare at as he sipped his coffee. The man caught his gaze and smiled at him. “I’m Isaiah, by the way.” “Dylan.” Isaiah smirked. “I was pretty surprised to hear what you said back there, Dylan.” “Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have-” “It’s okay.” Isaiah raised his hands in a show of peace. “I thought it was really cool how you spoke your truth. And… I agree with you.” He raised an eyebrow. “You do?” Isaiah leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Yeah. I mean, I never really thought about it like that, but when I heard you say it… It was like it all made sense, you know?” Dylan sighed. “Well, I’m not so sure it’s a message people are willing to hear. And I wasn’t trying to offend anyone, I really wasn’t. I just feel like people have got this virus all wrong. Like, it’s not a curse from God, or whatever they’re saying, it’s-” “-a blessing.” Isaiah grinned, flashing those beautiful teeth. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” “How did you feel when you found out you were positive?” Isaiah leaned back, drumming his fingers against the table. “Uh… you know. Shock and all of that. I think I was a bit scared at first, to be honest. Then I got really horny. I wanted to fuck, but I felt guilty giving it to someone else. So I just sort of shoved it down.” Dylan nodded excitedly. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying–imagine if we didn’t have to feel that kind of shame. Imagine if we could be honest and just say we wanna fuck. We like being poz, we like the way it feels. There’s nothing to fear anymore. I mean, how many people get that kind of freedom?” Isaiah smirked. “See, I know that, and you know that. But how exactly do we explain all that to the rest of the world?” Dylan sat back. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess maybe one person at a time.” Isaiah raised his eyebrows. “What, you want to start a group or something?” He shrugged. “Why not? They’ve got their support group. Why shouldn’t we have our own?” “A pro-AIDS support group?” “A group of people who are empowered by being poz. People who take pride in their status and laugh in the face of anyone who would dare shame them.” Isaiah laughed. “I gotta say, I like what you’re saying. Your energy, it’s… powerful.” He took another sip of his coffee and leaned back, stretching his arm across the booth. “So tell me–what are the rules for this little group? I mean, what are we all about?” “Well, first of all, I think there should be no shame whatsoever. That’s rule number one. And if we’re not ashamed of our status, then there should be no reason not to have sex. Sex is a gift and we should treat it that way. I think we should never turn down an opportunity to get or give loads.” “I guess that means condoms are out,” Isaiah said with a grin. “Absolutely. That’s rule number three.” “What about people who don’t have the virus? I mean, there’s gotta be some people like you who wanted it before they even had it.” Dylan nodded. “You’re right. I think we need to focus on more than just the people who are already poz. This thing is spreading, and spreading quickly. If more guys would just take control of their lives, get the virus on their terms, in their way… I think it would make all the difference.” “So we give the virus to anyone who asks for it?” said Isaiah. “Yes.” Isaiah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s pretty bold right there.” “I don’t care,” said Dylan. “Everyone should have the choice to get or give HIV if that’s what they want. As long as both parties are willing, I don’t see the problem with it. In fact… in a way, I think it’s probably the kindest thing you can do for someone.” Isaiah smiled. “I like that.” He took Dylan’s hand in his and rubbed it. Dylan felt a flutter in his chest. He’d never really felt this way around a guy before. Most men were like his father, who was disgusted by him, or like Ed, who just wanted to use him. Isaiah didn’t seem like either. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Isaiah asked with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t think I can wait.” Dylan grinned mischievously. “Bathroom?” The second they locked the door behind them, they were off to the races. Those beautiful lips were all over Dylan’s neck, making his skin tingle as he ran his fingers through Isaiah’s gorgeous locks. His hands fiddled with Isaiah’s belt, desperate to wrap his fingers around the man’s cock. He reached into Isaiah’s jeans and grabbed his dick, warm and hard. Isaiah growled softly as he stroked it. “Take these off.” Isaiah dropped to his knees and began peeling off Dylan’s pants. He smiled when he saw the lacy fabric of Dylan’s thong. “Let me see that pretty pink hole.” He bent Dylan over the counter, one hand running over his back while the other squeezed his ass. He pried away the thong strap with his thumb to reveal Dylan’s hole, smooth and pink. “Fuck, boy. I gotta taste that.” Dylan moaned as he felt Isaiah’s tongue on his hole, the roughness of the man’s beard scratching his sensitive taint. He rested his face against the mirror, his fingers clawing at the glass as Isaiah ravaged his hole. “Please, I need your cock,” he whimpered, his body quivering. The next thing he knew, Isaiah had pulled him down onto his knees and that thick, beautiful cock was leaking in his face. “Put it in your mouth, baby.” He didn’t need to be asked twice. He slid his mouth over Isaiah’s foreskin, running his tongue along the underside of the man’s shaft. Isaiah moaned. “I want to do this with you.” He pushed his cock deeper inside Dylan’s mouth until his pubes scratched his nose. “I want a place where we can fuck freely. Where we can be who the virus makes us…” Isaiah face-fucked him slowly, holding him tightly as he slid in and out of Dylan’s throat. It felt amazing, pure and animalistic and passionate. It was different from sex with Ed, more honest. He wasn’t playing a part anymore. He was just offering himself to this man who thought the way he did, who saw the way gay sex was supposed to be. Dylan grabbed Isaiah’s ass, pushing the man deeper into himself. He was already imagining what it would look like, this group the two of them were birthing today. No more shame or self-hate. Only pleasure, raw and unapologetic. There would be dozens of men like them, some poz and ready to breed and others waiting for a chance to be unleashed. This fuck was only the beginning of so much more to come. Isaiah let out a guttural moan as he unloaded inside his throat. Dylan could feel the man’s cock throbbing as pumped his stomach full of beautiful, toxic cum. He pulled his own cock out of his thong and started stroking it, bringing himself to completion in seconds as he shot his own toxic load onto the tile. “Holy fuck,” Isaiah said breathlessly, his limp cock falling out of Dylan’s mouth. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” “I’m just getting started,” Dylan said with a wicked grin. They made plans to meet up at Isaiah’s apartment later that week to brainstorm about finding their first recruit. Isaiah lived in Chelsea, not far from where they’d met. Over the next couple of days, he found his thoughts consumed with Isaiah and their burgeoning group. He could see it now, a group of guys who could recharge each other and spread their seed the way God intended. Isaiah at his side, his right-hand man to guide men towards the light. When he approached the address Isaiah had given him, he was practically buzzing with excitement. A loud whistling sound coming from above caught his attention. He looked up to see an old man leering down at him from his balcony. “Shit, boy. You gotta lotta ass on that little frame.” The old man looked to be in his 70s, with greasy black hair, a large, wrinkled nose, and fat pink lips. He grinned lecherously. “You wanna come up for a little fun? I’m on the third floor, apartment 3C. Gimme ten minutes and I’ll make you squeal.” He scratched at a purple splotch on his neck. Dylan just smiled up at him and walked into the building. “I met your neighbor,” he said to Isaiah when he opened the door to his suite. “He’s charming.” “Oh jeez, sorry about him,” Isaiah said as he let him in. “He’s always ogling at guys on the sidewalk.” Dylan sat on the couch, slipping off his shoes and curling his legs underneath him. “What do you know about him?” “Not much. I always thought he was a bit of a creep, but part of me kind of respects his game. He wants to get his dick wet, no more, no less. He’d probably have more luck if he didn’t look like a walking STD factory.” “You think he’s poz?” Isaiah shrugged. “Probably. Don’t know how, though–no one I know would ever go near him, even before all this.” Dylan beamed. “He sounds perfect.” “Perfect for what?” “What do you think about him for our first recruit?” Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious?” He nodded. “Absolutely. He’s exactly the kind of guy we’ve been looking for.” “I don’t know…” Isaiah frowned. “I was hoping for someone a little less… well, disgusting.” “Remember our motto–we get and give loads to anyone who wants them. The virus doesn’t discriminate and neither should we.” Isaiah thought for a moment. “Fair point. Okay, I’m in.” Dylan grabbed Isaiah’s hand and smiled. “Come on–let’s strike while the iron’s hot.” He held Isaiah’s hand as they walked up to the third floor. He could feel butterflies in his stomach again. Was he nervous about bringing in their newest member? Or was it the feeling of Isaiah’s hand in his? They stopped outside the door to 3C. “You sure about this?” asked Isaiah. He nodded, then knocked on the door. He heard the sound of footsteps, then a chain unlatching. The door opened to reveal the old man wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of striped boxer shorts. He scratched his pot belly and grinned. “Well well. Two for the price of one.” Dylan smiled sweetly. “Can we come in?” “Fuck yeah, you can come in. Right this way, sweetheart.” He stepped back to allow the two young men into his apartment. The air was stale and stifling like the windows had never been opened before. The man gestured to the couch, which seemed stained with some sort of bodily fluids. “Please, have a seat.” The old man seemed excited, almost like he couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m Gary.” “I’m Dylan, and this is Isaiah.” Dylan sat on the couch, wary of avoiding anything sticky. Isaiah stayed standing. “Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Gary. “Beer? Water?” “Hold the Rohypnol,” Isaiah muttered under his breath. Dylan shot him a look, then smiled at Gary. “Thank you, I’m fine.” The old man sat down on a recliner across from them and put his feet up. “So, what can I do for you two boys?” One of his hairy testicles fell out of the leg of his boxer shorts. He scratched it. Dylan cleared his throat. “Well, we actually have a proposal for you. You see-” “Aw, fuck. This isn’t one of them things where you try and get me to sell you my apartment, is it?” Gary sat up in his seat, his pot belly jiggling as he moved. “Cause I ain’t moving. I told the last guys, I’m staying here till I die. Don’t care how soon that is.” He scratched the purple lesion on his neck again. “So if that’s what you’re here for, you can go ahead and-” “It’s not, I promise.” Dylan looked at Isaiah. “We actually wanted to know if you’d be interested in joining a group that we’re thinking of starting.” Gary’s eyes narrowed. “Group, huh? What kind of group? Like a religious thing?” Isaiah laughed. “Kind of. In a way.” “It’s more of a… well, an HIV thing,” said Dylan. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… you are poz, right?” Gary sighed. “Well, guess it ain’t no use hiding it. Yeah, I got the bug. A few years back, actually. Fucking shame, I used to get so much boypussy. Now I’m lucky just to get enough to get by.” Dylan nodded. “That’s why we came here, actually. You see, we’re both poz too.” Gary blinked in surprise. “Really? But you’re both so… healthy. Young. You look great.” Dylan smiled. “I don’t think being poz means you have to be old and decrepit. I mean, I know we’ll all go that way one day. But I think that being poz is just another part of life. It’s part of being gay, a right of passage we all go through towards sexual liberation. Whether you get it when you’re young or when you’re old, we’re all gonna get it eventually. There’s no use denying it or being afraid of it.” Gary studied him for a moment. “You’re not like most of the boys out there, are you? Most guys see me, they run in the opposite direction as fast as their legs can carry them. They don’t see the real me, the sex pistol I used to be. I could get a boy off with just one finger, and I did as often as I could. I made so many men cum it could fill the empire state building. It’s a fucking shame those days are behind me.” “What if it didn’t have to be?” Dylan’s eyes were shining. “What if your sexual prime was right now?” The old man laughed. “Now I know I still got the juice, but come on. What guy in his right mind would fuck me?” “I would,” said Dylan. Gary blinked. “Really? You’d let me fuck you?” He nodded. “Mm-hm.” “Without a condom?” Dylan laughed. “What’s the point of doing it at all if it isn't raw?” He stood. “That’s what I’m talking about. Raw, man-on-man sex. Dirty, unfiltered, impure.” He walked toward Gary, slipping his shoes off as he went. “Just two poz guys, sharing the gift with each other.” He ran his finger along Gary’s arm. He could see the old man’s dick poking out of the hole in his boxer shorts. “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?” Gary swallowed, then nodded. Dylan pulled down his pants to reveal what he wore underneath: a bright red garter belt and matching stockings. He wore it without underwear, leaving his boythings completely exposed underneath. The old man gasped as Dylan climbed on top of his lap. His hands shook as they gripped Dylan’s waist, rubbing his hard cock against the boy’s hole. “Jesus,” he whispered as Dylan stripped off his shirt. “You’re beautiful.” Dylan reached through the hole in the old man’s boxer shorts and grabbed his cock. It was short and stubby, but thick enough to leave Dylan feeling nice and full. It sat in a giant tuft of thick, gray pubic hair like a snake waiting to strike. He aimed it at his hole and sat down slowly. “This is what I’m offering you,” he whispered into Gary’s ear. “A wet hole, anytime you want it. Men like us who just want to fuck and breed and spread their seed as far and wide as they can.” He slowly bounced up and down on Gary’s cock, feeling his hole spread open by the man’s thickness. His hands rested on the man’s thick belly, steadying himself as he worked Gary’s cock with his pussy. The old man stared up at him in awe, his eyes glazed over as he enjoyed the wetness of his insides. Isaiah stood off to the side, his cock in his hand as he played the voyeur. “Come here.” He held his hand out to Isaiah. As Isaiah approached, he took the man’s cock into his mouth and sucked on it hungrily. The sounds of both men groaning were like music to his ears. He squeezed Gary’s cock with his hole as he swirled his tongue around Isaiah’s cock, desperate to give these two poz men the relief they so badly deserved. “Oh fuck,” said Gary. He grabbed Dylan’s waist and slammed him down on his cock. “Take my poz load, boy. Take daddy’s load!” He grunted loudly as he expelled his charged cum inside Dylan’s rectum. Dylan felt the old man’s hands squeezing his tits as his body shook with pleasure. Soon the sound of Isaiah’s groaning joined the sounds from the old man as he tasted Isaiah’s sweet seed on his tongue. Fully recharged, he slid off of Gary’s lap, careful to keep the old man’s gift safely inside him. Gary lay on the recliner, breathing heavily as his limp cock still poked out of his boxers. “Holy fuck,” he wheezed. “That was incredible.” He grinned lecherously at Isaiah. “I’m spent now, but I can’t wait for a chance with this one.” He stroked his limp cock, sniffed his fingers, then licked off some of Dylan’s ass juices. Isaiah grimaced. “You join our group, you can have it anytime you want. Me…” Dylan nodded at Isaiah, “...him, anyone else who joins the poz brotherhood.” Gary beamed. “I’m in!” From that day on, it was the three of them against the world. Gary was a ravenous new recruit, eager to spread the word and seed as far as he could. They met in Isaiah’s apartment, mostly because Isaiah refused to set foot in Gary’s den of bodily fluids again. “You’re looking for new members, I got the perfect guy–an old friend from my days in the army,” Gary said excitedly at their first meeting. “We used to hook up every now and then on the down-low. Course, it was hard hiding it from his wife when he got the bug. She left him, took everything and ruined his life. Last I heard he was trawling for dick in Harlem. I’ll see if I can track him down!” Dylan nodded. “Sounds good. While you’re doing that, I want Isaiah to start looking into some apartment spaces in the area. We’ll need a place to meet on the regular.” Isaiah frowned. “How exactly are we gonna afford that? You got some kinda fortune I don’t know about?” Dylan felt Ed’s credit cards burning a hole in his pocket. He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Now while you’re doing that, I’ve got a little project of my own to work on.” “You sure you don’t want my help?” asked Isaiah. He squeezed Dylan’s hand, winking at him. “I think we make a pretty good team.” Dylan kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sure. I need to do this on my own.” He waited outside the apartment building, his face hidden behind a large pair of Carrera sunglasses he’d bought on Ed’s dime the week before. He was careful to stay out of sight, lest he be recognized by one of the attendees, or, God forbid, the host. Finally, after about an hour, he saw who he was looking for. The sickly ginger man from the meeting looked paler than ever as he left the apartment. Despite the sun shining and the lack of chill, he wore a big coat, which he wrapped around himself as he walked down the sidewalk. Dylan followed behind him, waiting until they were safely away from the meeting to make his approach. A couple of blocks later the ginger man was stopped at a red light waiting to cross. Dylan walked up beside him and put his hand on his arm. “Excuse me,” he said. “Don’t I know you?” The guy’s face turned even paler when he saw him. “Oh… what are you doing here?” “It’s Ryan, right?” Ryan looked nervously at the light. “I should probably be going-” “Wait,” said Dylan. “I just wanna talk. Could we go for a walk?” Ryan looked at him warily for a moment, then nodded. They walked around City Hall Park for a bit, the ginger man shivering even in the sun. “How are things with your partner?” asked Dylan. Ryan shrugged. “The same. He still won’t touch me.” He frowned. “I’m sorry. That really sucks.” Ryan laughed. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be as free as you. What was it, ‘free from all of society’s bullshit expectations?’” He coughed into his arm, causing a nearby woman to lean away from him. “Look, I’m not here to preach at you,” said Dylan. “I just want to ask you something.” He stopped walking. “Do you feel like your life would be better if you didn’t have to feel ashamed of who you were?” Ryan sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t see what difference it makes. I’m dying either way.” “But you’re not dead yet.” He grabbed Ryan’s hand. “That’s what I’m saying. You are a beautiful, drop-dead-sexy man. Your boyfriend should be fighting other guys off with a stick, not shaming you and refusing to sleep in the same bed as you.” “What does it matter? I can’t change him. He only sees me for this disease. He’s afraid of it.” “I’m not,” said Dylan. “And there are other guys like me, guys who aren’t afraid of the bug. Who accept it head-on? Don’t you want to be a part of something that accepts you for who you are? Fuck it, who more than accepts your disease, but actually celebrates it?” Ryan shook his head. His eyes were wet. “That’s just a fantasy. It’s not real.” “It is real.” Dylan held out his hand. “Join us. There are just a few of us right now, but I promise you, we will build a safe place where you’ll get all the love and sex you need. Where you can breed and be bred to your heart’s content.” Ryan looked at him, his lip trembling. “I don’t believe you.” Dylan touched Ryan’s lips with his fingers, then kissed him softly. He felt the man melt into his arms, going so weak he had to hold him up. They kissed deeply, tongues fighting as they swapped saliva. When Dylan broke the kiss, Ryan was staring up at him in wonder. He smiled. “Come with me.” He took him into the men’s room at City Hall, guiding him into one of the stalls at the end. He pulled off the man’s coat, revealing his thin, wasted frame underneath. Ryan instinctively covered himself with his arms in shame. Dylan grabbed his arms and pulled them away. “Don’t.” He kissed Ryan. “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled off the man’s shirt, revealing his pale, veiny torso and abs. He traced his skin with his fingertips, kissing down the man’s chest as he got on his knees. He unbuckled Ryan’s belt, then slid the man’s pants down over his cock. It was the most lively thing about him, long and thick underneath a bright red patch of fiery hair. “Jesus,” whispered Dylan. “You should have never put this thing away.” He took the head into his mouth, causing Ryan to cry out in joy. He sucked the man’s death stick, eager to work him up to full mast so he could receive his gift. When Ryan was fully hard, he stood up and bent over, gripping the top of the stall as he offered Ryan his hole. “Take me,” he moaned. “Give me your poz load.” With trembling fingers, Ryan lowered his pants, then peeled off his lace panties to gain access to his hole. His fingers were hard and boney as they opened him up, but he soon felt the warmth of the man’s knob easing its way into him. He relished the sound of Ryan’s moans, joyful at the knowledge that his pussy could resurrect this dying man. He felt Ryan’s lips against his neck as the man buried his cock up to the hilt inside of him. “Oh God…” moaned Ryan. “I never thought I’d feel this again.” Dylan turned his head to look into Ryan’s eyes. “Fuck me,” he whispered. “Show me what you were made for.” Ryan grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He withdrew his cock almost all the way, then slammed it back inside. “Fuck, that pussy,” he moaned. He kept a tight grip on Dylan’s curls as he reamed the boy’s ass, filling the bathroom with the sound of flesh on flesh. The two men grunted together, loud and animalistic. Nothing else mattered now–not the rules of society, not the fear of getting caught. They were two men doing what they were put on earth to do: fucking each other’s brains out. Dylan could feel the ginger man getting more energized with every thrust. His cold skin became warmer as he worked himself up to his orgasm, his death stick preparing to fire for the first time in ages. His boney fingers dug into Dylan’s ass cheeks as he heaved one, two, three times before collapsing onto the boy’s back. Soon Dylan felt that sweet, familiar feeling of warmth spread through him as he took Ryan’s gift inside him. Then he felt Ryan shaking on top of him. It took him a moment, but he soon realized the man was crying. “Hey.” He turned around and took the ginger man into his arms. Ryan looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I didn’t think I could ever have that again.” Dylan wiped away his tears. “There’s so much more, Ryan. Will you let me show you?” Ryan nodded, and Dylan knew the man was his. He smiled. “Then there’s something I want you to do for me.” With Ryan on his side, Dylan’s little group started growing faster than ever. Gary brought in several of his old fuckbuddies, some of them newly poz and others in the advanced stages of AIDS, but all of them horny and eager to fuck with abandon. Isaiah found a spacious little two-bedroom apartment for rent in the same apartment building as the HIV support group, which quickly became the headquarters of their new poz brotherhood. But the real secret weapon was Ryan. His experience with Dylan had been a spiritual awakening, breathing new life into him and changing him from the inside out. He was no longer sickly and defeated, but strong and full of vitality. It was something like a miracle, and it was one Dylan used to his full advantage. He started small–getting Ryan to approach one or two of the more jaded members of Vincent’s little group and broach the topic of a new way of life. Seeing Ryan’s transformation and lured by the notion of carefree sex, the men were easily swayed into jumping ship. Soon the group was hemorrhaging members as they defected one by one to join the poz brotherhood. By spring, Dylan had gained over a dozen followers. They held weekly meetings on Saturday nights, where they would meet at the new apartment and recharge each other during lust-filled orgies. Dylan made sure to receive each man’s seed at least once, knowing that his pussy had become something of a prized commodity among the men. Then, once everyone had given and gotten at least one load, they would discuss their plans for expanding the brotherhood. “We need fresh blood,” said Gary one evening in early April. “We can always go to hospitals and try to find guys with HIV,” said Isaiah. Gary scoffed. “No, I don’t mean men who are already poz. I mean neg guys.” He turned to Dylan. “You promised us we’d get to spread our seed. But all we’ve done is recharge a bunch of guys who already have the bug.” The men began to argue amongst themselves. Dylan raised his hand to quiet them. “The more poz men we bring over to our way of life, the more we’ll attract neg guys who want what we have. All we have to do is wait. And whoever does want to be pozzed will get to take seed from all of us. We’ll all share in the conversion.” “I say we go to the public toilets in Central Park and just start pozzing guys,” said Gary. He grinned. “Once they’re infected they’ll start to see our way of thinking.” Dylan shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.” “I thought HIV was supposed to be a gift? Why are we holding back?” “It is a gift, but receiving that gift should be a choice,” said Dylan. “It’s something every man should be able to decide for himself.” “I didn’t get to decide,” said Ryan. He stood, addressing the other men. “I didn’t choose to be this way. But even so, I’m glad I have the disease now.” He smiled at Dylan. “You showed me the light. I think it's only fair we do the same for others.” Dylan banged on the table with his fist. “Enough. I don’t want to hear any more talk about stealthing neg guys. This is not who we are. If you wanna be in the poz brotherhood, you follow our rules.” “What about him, huh?” Gary nodded at Isaiah. Dylan frowned. “What about him?” Gary pointed at him accusingly. “He’s not following our rules. Whatever happened to ‘give and get loads from whoever wants it?’ I’ve been in the group for months and he still won’t give me a shot at his ass.” “Just because I wanna fuck doesn’t mean I wanna fuck you, Gary,” said Isaiah. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get fucked,” said Ryan. “You only ever let us suck your dick. And you never return the favor.” There was a murmur throughout the room. Isaiah stood. “What are you trying to say?” he asked angrily. “You think I’m a fake?” “I think you’re lying,” said Gary. “I don’t think you got the bug at all.” Isaiah laughed in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. Of course I do.” He looked at Ryan. “You know me, man. Tell them.” Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, I know we were in Vincent’s group together, but I never really heard you share about being poz. You mostly just listened.” “Like a voyeur,” said Gary. “He’s getting off on us but he don’t have the bug himself. He’s a fucking interloper!” “That’s enough,” said Dylan. “I know Isaiah. He started this group with me. I would know if he was a liar.” But he knew the truth from the way Isaiah avoided his gaze. He’d suspected it for a while now, though he’d hoped he was wrong. Hoped there was some other explanation for the distance that had grown between the two of them. Some other reason why every man had filled his pussy except the one man he wanted the most. “You guys are crazy,” said Isaiah. He got up and headed toward the door. “I’m out of here.” Gary put his hand up to stop him. “Not until you take one of our loads in your ass.” He smiled menacingly. “It’s the only way to be sure.” “Man, fuck you-” There was a knock at the door. The men looked at each other in confusion. “Who the hell is that?” asked Gary. “No idea,” said Dylan. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He walked over to the door and opened it to reveal Vincent, his face twisted in anger. “Vincent? What are you doing here?” The Asian man looked around the room, shooting dirty looks at the members of his now-extinct HIV support group. “I thought I might find you all here. I heard whispers of some perverted sex cult but I’d hoped it wasn’t true.” He glared at Dylan. “Well, I hope you’re happy. You’ve ruined any chance these men had of finding inner peace. Whore.” Isaiah went to speak but Dylan stopped him. “Hello, Vincent. I’m glad you stopped by. I was hoping you might get a chance to see us for yourself.” Vincent laughed scornfully. “Oh, I see it. What a great group you have here. A bunch of perverts who disgrace the dignity of people with AIDS.” Dylan shook his head. “No, Vincent. You’re the one that disgraces their dignity. Teaching them to be ashamed of themselves when all they want is the freedom to live their lives honestly.” “I never said they should be ashamed.” “But you did,” said Dylan. “You spin this web about how HIV is a death sentence, how these men are sick and dying. But I look around and all I see is life.” “You know what I think?” Ryan walked up to Vincent and shoved his finger in his chest. “I think you’re jealous.” “Hah… N-no,” Vincent stuttered. Ryan put his face in his, looking him up and down. “I know you, Vincent. And I know you’re terrified of sex. I think you look at us and you wish you could fuck the way we can. Tell me I’m wrong.” Vincent swallowed. “You’re wrong.” “So you don’t want this?” Ryan grabbed Vincent’s cock. “You don’t want to feel what it’s like to take a man’s cock raw, the way God intended? You don’t want to feel my cock sliding inside you, lubing you up with my cum as I go a second round?” Vincent was shaking where he stood. The men started to close in on him, their eyes glinting with hunger. “Of course not. I would never have sex without a condom. That would be incredibly dangerous to my health.” “Isn’t that what makes it so fucking fun?” said Gary. The old man burst into laughter, causing the rest of the men to laugh with him. “I… I don’t-” “No more talking.” Gary grabbed Vincent’s shirt and began pulling it over his head. “Time for fucking.” “What are you doing?” asked Vincent as Ryan began unbuttoning his pants. “You can’t… it’s not safe.” His eyes went wide as Ryan pulled his pants down to his ankles, revealing his fully erect cock poking out of his boxer briefs. “Looks like he’s ours, boys!” yelled Gary. The men descended on Vincent, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he cried out in a mix of fear and ecstasy. Soon he was on all fours, his mouth full of Gary’s cock while Ryan ripped open the back of his boxer briefs. He yelped when Ryan shoved himself inside him, causing the rest of the men to break out in cheer. “Poz that hole!” “Give it to him good!” “Infect him!” Dylan watched from the sidelines, a smile of satisfaction on his face as his final holdout gave himself over to their depravity. “Looks like you were right,” said Isaiah. He stood next to Dylan, watching Vincent’s deflowering unfold. “All we had to do was wait.” “You don’t want a turn on him?” asked Dylan. “A chance to infect the new guy?” Isaiah said nothing. Dylan sighed. “It’s true, then, isn’t it? You’re neg?” Isaiah took a deep breath. “Come with me. I want to explain.” He took him into the bedroom, away from the grunts and cries of satisfaction. He shut the door behind them, then slid down to his knees, burying his head in his hands. Dylan put his arms around him. “It’s all right, Isaiah. You don’t have to explain.” Isaiah looked up at him, tears in his eyes. “You don’t understand… I want to convert, I really do. I’m just… I’m just scared. I don’t want to be sick. I don’t want to die.” He covered his face with his hands and cried. “I’m a coward,” he sobbed. Dylan hugged him. “Oh, Isaiah.” He rubbed his back gently. “It’s okay. I understand why you’re afraid. There’s a lot of people out there telling us to be scared, that there’s no hope. But I’m telling you, there is.” He lifted Isaiah’s head. “Those men out there. Do they look sick to you? Are they dying?” Isaiah shook his head. “That’s because they’re free. They don’t feel ashamed to be who they are anymore. You don’t have to feel ashamed, either. If you take that plunge, if you accept the gift… you’ll be more alive than you’ve ever been. You’ve seen it happen to Ryan. Those men can give you that gift.” Isaiah looked at him sadly. “But… I don’t want it that way. I don’t want to be pozzed by all of them. I just want you.” “What do you mean?” He took Dylan’s hand and held it to his chest. “I don’t want to share this disease with anyone else. I want to know who gave it to me. I want that person to be you.” Dylan looked at him with wide eyes. “Why me?” “You made me see the world through a whole new light. I spent weeks going to that group because I was scared of the inevitable. I guess… I was trying to prepare myself for what my life would be like when I got the virus. But all I saw was sickness and sadness… until you.” He leaned his forehead against Dylan’s. “I don’t want the virus because I think I need it or because I want to get it over with. I want it because it’ll make me like you. I want it to be ours.” Dylan kissed him gently. “I want that too.” He stood and pulled Isaiah to his feet. “Will you let me share my gift with you?” Isaiah nodded. He kissed him hungrily, holding nothing back this time. Suddenly, the door burst open as Gary walked in, his cock rock hard and dripping as he held a panting Vincent by the back of the neck. “Figured we’d give our little pup a change of scenery,” Gary said with a grin. He threw Vincent on the bed, then climbed on top of him, dwarfing the man with his chubby frame. Vincent moaned as the old man plunged into his hole and started humping away. Dylan laughed. “Come on. I’ll take you to my place.” He kissed Isaiah on the cheek. “Besides, there’s something I want to show you.” They took a cab to his apartment on the Upper West Side. He held Isaiah’s hand the whole drive over, his stomach full of butterflies for what was about to come. When they walked through the door, Isaiah whistled. “Damn. How’d you swing a place like this?” Dylan just smiled and kissed him. He grabbed Isaiah’s hand and pulled him into the bedroom. Isaiah gasped when he saw what was in Dylan’s bed. Ed lay there in his pajamas, practically skin and bones. His eyes were vacant and hollow, and he wheezed slowly with every breath. “Who is this?” Isaiah asked in disbelief. Dylan sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Ed’s hand. “This is my daddy.” Isaiah watched him nervously. Dylan brushed Ed’s cheek with his hand. “He’s the person who gave me life. But even though he gave it to me, he couldn’t accept it for himself.” “He… he’s dying of AIDS?” Dylan nodded. “It didn’t have to be that way. He could have accepted the gift, but he chose to live in denial. He chose to let the shame and guilt eat away at him.” He stood. “I won’t lie to you. If you take the gift, this could be your future. You could let the shame win and eat you from the inside out.” He grabbed Isaiah’s hand. “Or you could let it make you new again. Make you like me.” He intertwined his fingers with Isaiah’s hand, staring up at him with wide eyes. “What’ll it be?” Isaiah put his hand behind his head and kissed him. Dylan fell into the kiss, allowing Isaiah to pull off his clothes as Ed wheezed behind them. They disrobed completely until they were both beautifully, fully naked. “I want you to take me,” said Isaiah. He climbed on the bed, his stomach resting against Ed’s wasted legs as he presented his ass to Dylan. “Take me in your daddy’s bed.” Dylan smiled, his heart swelling with love. He spit on his hand, smearing his cock with saliva before plunging into Isaiah’s hole in one fell swoop. To Isaiah’s credit, he didn’t scream or make any noise of pain, although it had to have been painful. Dylan knew that the more torn up Isaiah was inside, the faster he would receive his gift. He made love to him, quickly but tenderly, until his cock was sliding back and forth unencumbered. He could see a bit of blood on his cock as he pounded Isaiah’s hole, knowing that this would only speed the process of conversion. He leaned over Isaiah’s back, pushing him into the bed and onto Ed. “I love you,” he whispered in his ear. “I love you so much, Isaiah.” He could feel the pressure in his balls rising as his breathing grew shallow. He’d never felt anything like this before, knowing that his DNA would mix with Isaiah’s, binding the two men together. They would be forever linked, joined in the lineage of all the heroes who came before them. Then in a moment of blinding pleasure, he felt that sweet, blessed release. “Take my seed!” he shouted, burying his cock in Isaiah’s hole. “Take my gift,” he panted, collapsing against Isaiah’s back. He lay there for several seconds, the room filled with the sound of the two men panting and Ed wheezing. Nothing had ever felt so right, being linked with his creator and the man he had created. They lay there for a while, still joined together as his seed took root deep inside of the man he loved. Finally, Isaiah rolled over underneath him, letting his cock fall out of his freshly seeded hole. He stared at him with tears in his eyes. “I love you too.”

Patient 3: Ed If there was one thing Ed hated, it was hospitals. He’d had tuberculosis as a kid, which caused his parents to ship him off to the Adirondack Cottage Sanitarium for almost a year. He was only five years old, forced to spend the year away from family and friends while surrounded by the sick and the dying. It was a miracle that he’d been able to survive at all, and once he returned home, he swore he’d never set foot in another hospital again. His time away made him feel like a stranger in his own family. Of course, this was only made worse by the realization that he liked boys a hell of a lot more than girls. At least he had the sense to keep that bit to himself. Aside from some careful experimentation with some of the boys at his prep school, he played his part perfectly–dating girls, sleeping around, and, in the case of his wife Helen, getting married. Like him, Helen came from a wealthy New York family. They met while Ed was studying for his law degree at Columbia University and got married immediately after graduation. He’d done the respectable thing, marrying and popping out a couple of kids before the age of 30. But his real life lay just beneath the surface, like the seedy underbelly of the city. The regular visits to the bathhouse to blow off some steam after work. The boys trips to the Adirondacks for a week of naked fun. The secret apartment on the Upper West Side where he took his conquests when he wanted a little bit of privacy. Helen didn’t know anything about all that, of course. To her, he was the perfect husband–a lawyer, father, and for the last seven years, a congressman representing Manhattan’s East Side. But now Helen was sick, hospitalized with some sort of ailment that meant that Ed had to break his 50-year vow and step foot into the one place he swore he’d never go. “You sure you don’t want me to call the kids?” he asked as she lay shivering in the hospital bed. “Maybe Susan can come and be with you.” She pursed her lips. “For heaven’s sake, Ed. I need you. Man up!” He bristled. She had some nerve asking him to come here and then insulting his manhood. There was a knock at the door. A doctor stood in the doorway with a pen and a clipboard. “Helen Green?” Ed’s wife sat up in bed, using tremendous effort to do so. “Do you know what’s wrong with me? What did the tests show?” The doctor put his pen behind his ear and frowned. “Your white blood cell count is high. Now, this is usually a sign that your body is fighting off some kind of infection. Unfortunately, we can’t determine what that infection is. You’ve tested negative for tuberculosis, your lungs are fine, we’ve ruled out allergies…” “Surely there are other tests you can run,” said Ed. “We certainly pay you people enough.” The doctor cleared his throat. “We’ve been seeing some cases with similar symptoms to yours in the last couple of years. Now, you’re not the usual demographic for this sort of thing, but I have to ask… do you think there’s any chance you might have come into contact with someone suffering from AIDS?” Ed’s face went red with anger. “Are you kidding? You think my wife has AIDS? What the hell kind of doctor are you, accusing her of such a thing!” Helen put her hand on Ed’s. “Honey, please calm down.” The doctor raised his hands. “I’m not trying to insinuate anything. We’re still not entirely sure how this thing spreads. It’s possible you could have caught it in passing–sharing a drink with someone who was infected, or-” “Absolutely not,” said Ed. “Hold on a minute,” said Helen. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about here. AIDS, did you say? What even is that?” The doctor raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t heard of AIDS?” She laughed in disbelief. “Well, I’m not a medical expert. Why would I know about all the various diseases out there?” “AIDS is a virus that attacks the immune system,” explained the doctor. “We’ve seen it mostly in intravenous drug users and… homosexuals.” Ed’s face went white. He could feel Helen’s eyes turn towards him. “That’s it,” he said firmly. “First you accuse my wife of having AIDS, now you accuse her of using drugs. I want you out of here and I want a different doctor working on her case.” “But-” “Now!” The doctor sighed, then left the room. Ed turned to Helen, his face flush with anger. “Can you believe him? Accusing you of-” “What is he talking about?” Her voice was quiet but serious. “Hm? What did he mean it attacks the immune system?” “It doesn’t matter because you don’t have it.” “But Ed-” “It’s probably Lyme disease! Remember that tick bite you had in the Hamptons a few years ago? You’ve probably been sick this whole time and the doctors just missed it.” “Ed-” “Tell them to test for Lyme disease. I’m going home.” He grabbed his coat. “I’ll call Susan and tell her to come visit you as soon as possible.” “I don’t want to bother-” “She’s our daughter. She’ll do what I tell her to.” Ed left in a hurry, his head pounding. The nerve of that fucking doctor. He should have known better than to make such baseless accusations against a US congressman. Ed would have his medical license, he’d make sure of it. He left his daughter a voicemail when he got home, telling her to get to the hospital as soon as possible to take care of her mother. Then he took a shower and went to bed, hoping to put this mess behind him for good. He awoke early in the morning covered in sweat, his body aching considerably. This had been happening more and more lately, probably due to stress. After all, it wasn’t easy representing the American people on a daily basis. First thing Monday morning he would have to be back in his New York office, hard at work drafting a new piece of legislation to repeal environmental protections. Then he was due back in DC the week after to present the bill to committee. Tonight, however, was a special treat. One Saturday night each month, Ed and a small group of influential power brokers would meet at a different location for a bit of revelry and fun. They always got the call at noon the day of, telling them where and when to be. They took turns arranging the entertainment for the night, finding various boys at the baths who wanted a bit of cash in exchange for a night of being used by New York’s finest. Just another perk of being the nation’s servant. Then noon came and went without a phone call. Concerned, he considered phoning his friend Bill and asking for the cause of the delay, but he didn’t want to appear desperate. Appearances still mattered, even for occasions such as these. But by 5 o’clock, he began to get worried. He needed to release some tension now more than ever. He couldn’t risk missing out on the night’s event just because someone forgot to phone him. So he dialed Bill’s private line and waited for a response. He could hear the sound of the phone getting picked up, then silence. “Hello? Bill, are you there?” He heard a sigh. “Tell me it isn’t true, Ed.” Ed’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about? What have you heard?” “You know the rules. We decided as a group when this whole thing began. If any one of us got sick, we’d be out. No exceptions.” “I don’t know what you heard, but you’re wrong. I’m not sick. I’m not!” “Then why does Helen have AIDS?” Ed scoffed. “Who told you that? The doctor? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! She’s got Lyme disease, I’m telling you-” “Helen called me herself. She got the test back this morning. It’s AIDS, Ed. And if she has it, you have it.” “You son of a bitch. I’m telling you, she’s wrong. I don’t have AIDS!” “Goodbye, Ed.” “Wait!” Ed gripped the phone tightly. “You can’t kick me out. I know too much.” “Oh, Ed.” Bill laughed. “You know that won’t work. We got your collateral, remember? To prevent exactly this kind of thing.” Ed cursed himself. Of course, that photo with the young man from Rochester. He’d even posed for it willingly, certain it was all just a lark. They’d never actually have to use it. What a fool he’d been. “Oh, and if you know what’s good for you, you might want to consider resigning.” He scoffed. “Excuse me?” “Think about what’s best for the country, Ed. No one wants a congressman with AIDS.” The sound of the dial tone filled his ears. He hung up the phone, his face slack with shock. How could this be happening to him? He didn’t have AIDS–he couldn’t have it. There had to be some kind of mistake. He picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. He needed to sort this mess out with Helen before it went any further. “Mount Sinai, how can I help you?” “I need to talk to my wife, Helen Green. She’s in room 815.” “One moment.” He waited with bated breath. Then he heard his daughter’s voice. “She doesn’t wanna talk to you, Dad.” “Put your mother on the phone, Susan. Now.” “Dad, no. She needs to rest-” “Dammit, Susan! I am your father, you will obey me!” Susan scoffed. “Are you kidding me? After what you did to her, you’re trying to hold onto the moral high ground?” “I didn’t do anything-” “They tested her for AIDS, Dad. She’s positive. You made her sick with your perversion!” “I did no such thing!” he yelled. “If your mother has AIDS, it’s because she cheated on me! I’m the victim here!” Susan laughed wryly. “Okay, Dad. Keep telling yourself that.” “Susan, wait–please, let me speak to her.” “Dad… I’m only telling you this because I love you. This thing is serious. Mom’s really sick. You need to get tested.” “I’m fine,” he said angrily. “I don’t need anything at all because I don’t have AIDS.” “Goodbye, Dad.” He sat down in shock. First his wife, then Bill, now his daughter? Had everyone betrayed him? After everything he did for them? The secrets he kept for Bill. The life he’d given his wife and daughter, all of the money and the fancy vacations. Now they wanted to drop him, just like that. Well, fuck them. He wouldn’t go without a fight. He pulled out his Rolodex and started calling his contacts in the group. He was going to find out where tonight’s meeting was one way or another. Each number he dialed went straight to voicemail. He knew better than to leave a message, so he simply told them to call him back and reached for the next number on his list. By the time he cycled through all the numbers without a single response, he began to get angry. “If they won’t answer me, I’ll just find a boy myself.” He pulled out the number for that hot Latin boy he’d met at the baths last summer. Dario had been an awesome lay, and even introduced Ed to the pleasure of bottoming, something he hadn’t allowed himself to experience since the notion had always been an affront to his manhood. But even he didn’t answer the phone. Ed slammed the phone down in rage. Not for the first time, he lamented that the baths had been shut down the previous October. He’d taken for granted how easy it had been to get a nut off whenever he wanted. Cruising was so much effort, especially when you were trying to remain discreet. You couldn’t risk a friend or colleague seeing you following some guy on the street into his apartment building for an early afternoon lay. The West Side piers were his last resort. He didn’t like paying for sex, and he certainly didn’t want to catch the kinds of things those guys might be carrying, but sometimes you did what you had to do. He drove down to the piers just after ten, cruising slowly by as he perused the selection. Tonight looked like a particularly rough crowd, mostly junkies and a few ragged-looking ones that were most certainly not Ed’s type. He liked the smooth, innocent boys, like the painting of Saint Sebastian that he used to stare at in Catholic school. A guy who was missing at least four teeth banged on his window. “What are you looking for?” he slurred. He grinned. “Want me to make your dreams come true?” Ed hit the gas and sped away. No way in hell would he stoop this low. He would have to find another way. But the next day, his horniness was starting to drive him wild. He needed to get laid and he needed it now. He even tried cruising, though he was so out of practice he was certain he’d scared several young men into thinking they were being stalked. He gave up and spent the rest of the afternoon at home, feeling sorry for himself. He decided to give the piers one more try, arriving at sunset this time in the hopes that maybe the earlier crowd would be more palatable. But it was the same as yesterday–a group of freaks and vagrants, no one Ed would dare to stick his cock in even with how horny he was feeling. He was just about to give up and head home for the night when he saw him. A curly-haired boy sat on the curb, shivering in a sheepskin jean jacket. He looked to be about 18 or 19, strangely out of place among the more seasoned crowd. Ed pulled up beside him and rolled down the window. “Hey,” he said smoothly. But before he could say anything else, the boy’s eyes grew wide and he began hurrying away. Ed drove after him. “What the hell, man? I’m just talking to you.” The young man shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. This was a mistake.” “Hold on a minute.” The boy stopped and looked warily at him. Ed put the car in park and opened the side door. “Come on. You look cold, get in.” The young man’s eyes began to well with tears. “I shouldn’t.” “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m not gonna hurt you. All I wanna do is talk.” He pulled out a $20 bill. “Here, I’ll even pay you for your time. You don’t have to do anything but talk. Okay?” The boy nodded. He took the $20 and walked around the car, climbing in the passenger seat beside Ed. “Let me find us someplace private we can chat,” said Ed. He turned the corner and drove a couple of blocks before parking in an alleyway. “What’s your name?” The young man didn’t answer. He was practically shaking in his seat. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, son. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” The boy was absolutely beautiful, with pale skin and big doe eyes. Ed couldn’t help but put his hand on the boy’s leg, softly rubbing him. “I thought I could do it,” said the boy. “You know… but I chickened out.” He buried his head in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. I only just moved here a few months ago-” “You an actor?” asked Ed. He looked up and nodded. “I thought so. You’ve got a face for it.” He brushed the boy’s chin with his thumb. The boy blushed. “But then I ran out of money, and when I got kicked out of my apartment, I… I didn’t know what else to do.” His eyes started to well up with tears again. “Aww, it’s okay, baby.” Ed put his arm around the boy and held him to his chest. “Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry.” He put his nose in the boy’s hair, breathing in his scent. God, this kid was an angel. “I can’t go home,” the boy said with a sniffle. “My parents kicked me out when they found out I was gay. I’d finished high school, so I figured a big city would be the best place to go… but I just don’t know what to do.” “Hey,” said Ed. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing. You hear me?” He wiped away the young man’s tears. “I’ve got a place you can stay for the night.” “You don’t have to do that-” “It’s nothing. A little one-bedroom on the Upper West Side. I keep it for boys like you who, uh, need a little bit of help now and again.” The young man’s eyes went wide. “Really? You would do that for me?” Ed smiled. “For those eyes? I’d do anything.” The boy blushed. “It’s Dylan. My name.” Ed brought the boy’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Nice to meet you, Dylan. I’m Ed.” He drove Dylan to his apartment, parking in his reserved spot in the indoor parking garage. Truth be told, it wasn’t so much an apartment where he hosted young men in need as it was a place he could fuck his conquests without interruption. It was a modest little apartment, but he’d gone all out in a lush, king-sized bed. After all, you gotta spend money where you need it. “Let me take that.” He grabbed Dylan’s jacket and hung it on a hook beside the door. “Make yourself comfortable. You want something to drink?” “Maybe a coke?” Ed grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and poured it over a glass of ice. He added a little rum and handed it to Dylan. Dylan took a sip, then coughed. “Thought you’d like it a little strong,” Ed said with a wink. “You’re 18, right?” Dylan nodded. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He sat on the couch, setting the drink down on the coffee table in front of him. Ed sat next to him. “Well, I suppose I can’t help it. When I see a boy like you in need, it makes my heart hurt.” He put his arm around him, pulling the boy in just a little bit closer. Dylan smiled, then took another sip of his drink. “This place is so nice. I can’t imagine living somewhere like this.” “This is what you get when you work hard for a living. I’m sure you’ll live someplace just as nice when you become a famous actor.” Dylan giggled. “I don’t know about all that.” “Aw, come on. I could tell right away how talented you are. How handsome…” He put his hand on Dylan’s leg again, rubbing the inside of his thigh. Dylan looked up at him, those wide doe eyes full of innocence. “You’re really handsome, too.” Ed softly rubbed the boy’s cheek. “What I wouldn’t give to be with a guy like you. That’s why I talked to you down at the pier. I’d never done anything like that before, hire someone for sex. But I saw you when I was driving by and… I don’t know… it was like something came over me.” Dylan gulped. He was breathing heavily, his lip shaking. “You really think I’m handsome?” Ed put his thumb on Dylan’s lip and pulled it open slightly. “Baby, you’re the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” He kissed Dylan softly, careful to take his time with the boy. He wouldn’t be surprised if the kid was a virgin, he seemed so nervous. But he’d deflowered plenty of virgins in his day, so he knew just how to handle him. Don’t come on too strong, take things slow, and make sure to use plenty of lube. If everything went right, he’d have Dylan eating out of the palm of his hand. He kissed Dylan on the neck, holding the back of the boy’s head as he climbed on top of him. “Oh, Daddy,” moaned Dylan. He pulled Dylan’s shirt over his head, revealing his soft white skin and light pink nipples. His skin was completely unblemished, a perfectly pure canvas, purer than Saint Sebastian. He took one of Dylan’s nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking it hungrily as the boy moaned beneath him. His hands fiddled with the button of Dylan’s jeans, eager to release the boy’s stiffening rod underneath. He pulled off the boy’s jeans, revealing the young man’s hardness poking through a pair of light blue briefs. He buried his face in Dylan’s dick, rubbing his nose against it and inhaling the man scent that he loved so very much. He could feel Dylan’s hands in his hair as he pulled the boy’s briefs down to expose his rigid cock. It was beautiful and leaking, about 5” long, and buried under a soft patch of light brown pubic hair. “Oh, baby,” said Ed. He licked the underside of Dylan’s cock, making the boy moan. Then he enveloped it in his mouth, taking the entire thing down to the root. Dylan let out a small cry, his hands kneading Ed’s hair as the pleasure overwhelmed him. There was nothing Ed loved more than driving a boy wild with his tongue before opening him up with his big fat cock. He pulled Dylan’s briefs off all the way, then lifted his legs to gain access to the smooth, hairless hole underneath. He lovingly lapped the outside of the boy’s hole with his tongue, making him whimper. Then he spread his cheeks and dove in tongue first, readying his hole for the taking. “Daddy, that feels so good,” moaned Dylan. Ed took his time eating him out, wanting the boy as eager as possible to get fucked. When his hole felt nice and loose, Ed stood and held out his hand. “Come to bed with me, baby.” Dylan took his hand, following him shyly to the bedroom. Ed picked him up, kissing him softly as he carried him to the bed. He set him down gently, then unbuckled his belt as Dylan watched in anticipation. He pulled off his pants and underwear, causing Dylan to gasp at the sight of his thick, turgid cock. Ed climbed on the bed and kissed Dylan on the neck. “I know baby, I know.” He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube, lathering up his cock. Then he poured some on his fingers and slipped them into Dylan’s hole, making the boy whimper once more. “Should–shouldn’t we use a condom?” asked Dylan. He was looking up at Ed nervously. Ed shook his head. “No, baby. You don’t have anything to worry about. I would never hurt you.” He smiled at him, his fingers still working open the boy’s hole. Dylan nodded. He spread his legs, revealing that sweet, smooth hole. “Okay,” he said timidly. Ed climbed on top of him, kissing him softly as he lifted the boy’s legs back. Then he grabbed his cock, aimed it at the promised land, and began to push. “Ugh… it hurts,” whined Dylan. “Shhh…” said Ed. “You can do this. Be strong for Daddy, okay? I promise it’ll feel good.” He pushed in a little bit further, slipping the head of his cock inside Dylan’s tight hole. He could feel a pop as the head lodged itself inside. Then he slowly pushed forward, feeling every inch of the boy’s guts as he penetrated him. “Oh god… it’s so big,” said Dylan. “Go slow, okay?” “You’re doing so good, baby. Just a little further.” He pushed his cock even farther before he hit a wall. He was still only about two-thirds of the way in. “Go ahead and lean back for me baby,” Ed said as he took Dylan’s legs in his hands. “I just need to get a little deeper.” He pushed Dylan’s legs back until the boy’s ass was slightly off the bed. Then he slid in deeper, sliding past Dylan’s second ring and into his colon. “Oof… oh god, it’s so deep.” Dylan’s lip trembled. “Are you… are you all the way in?” Ed nodded. “I’m all the way in, baby. Now let Daddy fuck you, okay?” He began to slowly saw into Dylan, pumping in and out of that sweet boy’s rectum. The kid’s hole was tight as a drum, so tight that Ed was convinced he had to be a virgin. How lucky was he, finding an angel like this just begging for a Daddy to take care of him? With an ass like this at his disposal, Ed was more than happy to give the boy whatever he wanted. “Oof.. ugh… oh Ed, that feels so good…” Dylan had his fingers pressed against Ed’s chest, tracing through his chest hair. Ed leaned down and kissed him, tasting his sweet tongue as he defiled his insides. He was leaking so much precum into the boy that his cock was gliding freely now. He was sweating profusely, his skin burning like it was on fire. Must be from lust, of course. “Baby… Daddy’s gonna cum now, okay?” Ed kissed Dylan on the cheek, then held him close as he unloaded inside the boy’s sweet hole. He had always been a big cummer, and now was no exception. He could feel his cum spilling out around his cock as the boy’s rectum struggled to contain all the love he had to give. “Oh… oh wow…” moaned Dylan. His eyelashes were fluttering in such a cute way. Ed leaned down and kissed him gently on his eyelids, then pulled out and laid beside him, spent. It was nice feeling the boy cuddle up to him, resting his head on Ed’s hairy chest. Moments like these were rare for Ed–he usually had to make way for the next guy at the sex party to use whoever was the night’s entertainment. But this time he held Dylan close, breathing in the boy’s scent and softly stroking his skin as his cock deflated. He awoke hours later, drenched in sweat. For a moment, he thought he was with Helen, but then he felt Dylan’s soft breathing against his chest. His hard cock was still nestled in between Dylan’s soft ass cheeks. Strangely, he realized he’d never actually spent the night here before. Usually, he had to be back before his wife got suspicious. Now that the bitch had betrayed him, he could stay as long as he liked. His skin was on fire, so he leaned over and turned the AC on full blast. Then he kissed Dylan’s neck, making the boy moan in his sleep. He reached down and pulled open his cheeks, slipping easily inside him. It took the boy a few seconds of being fucked to wake up, but by then Ed was deep inside him and ready to plant his seed once more. He lay there like an angel and let Ed use him, murmuring “Daddy” every few seconds as Ed stroked his cute little cock. By the time he filled him again, he could feel the young man’s seed dribbling through his fingers. Ed must have fallen back asleep again, because the next thing he knew the sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Dylan was blowing him under the covers. He slipped the blanket off the boy’s head to reveal his curly brown hair bobbing up and down. “Good morning, baby.” Dylan popped Ed’s cock out of his pretty pink lips and smiled. “Good morning. I just wanted to thank you again for letting me stay here.” Ed pulled him in for a kiss. “You can stay here as long as you like, lover.” And thus commenced the third load that Ed planted inside of his new sweetheart. By the time he left the apartment that morning, kissing his paramour goodbye with promises to swing by again later, he was practically smitten. Ed wasn’t the type to grow attached so quickly. But with the trauma of being unfairly kicked out of the sex club and having nowhere else to turn for release, he felt like karma was finally rewarding him. The enchantment proved short-lived when he arrived at his office to find his staff in the middle of packing everything up. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked angrily. His staff looked bewildered to see him. Ron, his chief of staff, cleared his throat and asked, “Uh, sir… what are you doing here?” “What do you mean, what am I doing here? It’s my office, isn’t it?” Ron exchanged a glance with Ed’s secretary. “Uh… I mean, it was, sir. Before you resigned.” His nostrils began to flare. “What on God’s green Earth are you talking about?” “Bill called,” explained Ron. “He told us about Helen, how she was sick… I’m so sorry about that, sir. He- he said that you were resigning so you could take care of her, that you were staying home today to draft your letter of resignation, and that we should pack up your office while you were gone. Is that… not true, sir?” He ground his teeth. So, this was how they were playing it, was it? Trying to edge him out of a job and the club all in one go. Well, they couldn’t get rid of him that easily. “I want you to take those boxes right now and-” He was interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing on his desk. His secretary answered it, then held it out to him. “It’s for you, sir.” He grabbed the phone from her. “Hello?” he said gruffly. “The only thing you should be doing in that office is turning in your letter of resignation.” His heart skipped a beat. “Bill? What the hell is this?” He turned away from his staff and cupped the phone against his mouth. “Are you having me followed?” “We wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything foolish. Seems like we were right to be worried.” “I don’t know what you think I’m-” “I want you to listen very carefully to me.” Bill’s voice was calm, but chilling. “You are going to hang up the phone. You are going to sit down at your desk and fill out a letter of resignation, which you will then fax to Speaker O’Neill. You will not disobey or your collateral will be released. You will not breathe a word about our organization or your collateral will be released. Do you understand?” “But you-” “Do you understand, Ed?” His blood was boiling. He wanted to scream, but that would ruin the only thing he had left: his dignity. “Yes.” “Great. My best to Helen.” He set down the phone and looked at his staff, who were all staring at him warily. He was sweating profusely, his skin feverish. He wiped his brow. “Right, well, clearly you’ve all heard about my wife. Very sad… advanced Lyme disease, you know. Have to do what’s best for my family.” “Of course,” said Ron. “Why don’t you go ahead and draft that letter of resignation for me? I should head to the hospital. Check on her.” “All right,” said Ron. “Do you want me to-” “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Ed was already on his way out the door. He walked back to his car, the blood pumping in his ears. He couldn’t believe how much he’d lost in just a few short hours. Of course, it wasn’t like he needed the congressional salary. Thank God for being independently wealthy. And he had done good work in Congress, successfully cutting taxes for the wealthy and eliminating wasteful spending on food stamps and childcare subsidies. But the principle of the thing was appalling. He didn’t have AIDS, dammit! He couldn’t. He had only bottomed that one time. Well, okay, a few times… but only with Dario. And Dario wasn’t sick. So how could he be sick? Helen cheating on him was the only explanation. She’d tried to ruin his life to cover her own guilt. Fucking cunt. He decided to treat himself to make up for the shitty afternoon he was having. Well, to treat his new boytoy, as it were. He stopped at Victoria’s Secret on the way home and browsed through their selection. He got hard as a rock seeing his boys in lingerie and leaped at the chance to spoil his lover. He dropped a couple of hundred dollars on a few thongs and lace bikini briefs (“a little surprise for my wife’s birthday”) and headed back to the apartment. Dylan was in the shower when he arrived. Ed opened the door to the bathroom to see the boy’s smooth white back and those beautiful, plump ass cheeks. He quickly disrobed and climbed in with him. “Mm, hi.” Dylan wrapped his arms around Ed’s back, kissing him deeply. “How was your day?” “Better now that I’m with you,” said Ed. He turned off the water and grabbed the young man’s quickly growing cock. “Come with me. I have something to show you.” Dylan was ecstatic when Ed showed him what he’d bought. “I love it!” he squealed. “Oh God, I’ve always wanted to wear stuff like this…” He picked up one of the lace bikini briefs and traced it with his fingers. “I was just too afraid my parents would find out.” Ed grabbed Dylan’s towel and pulled it off, letting it fall to the side. He got down on his knees and kissed the boy’s ass. “Come on–I wanna see you in one of the thongs.” Dylan modeled the lingerie for him, sliding the silky fabric up his smooth legs and giving Ed a little strut in the bedroom. His ass looked so hot in the thongs, so round and juicy that he’d barely gotten to the second pair of panties when Ed picked him up and carried him into the bedroom. “Don’t you wanna see the rest, Daddy?” Dylan giggled. “Daddy needs to be inside you.” He tossed the boy onto the bed and spread his legs, pulling away the thong strap to gain access to that hidden treasure within. He ate him out like his life depended on it, spurred on by the boy’s moans and whimpers. Before long he was balls deep inside of his lover once more. Even with the AC still running, he was sweating up a storm. He mounted Dylan from behind and fucked him fast and deep, watching the boy’s ass cheeks jiggle with every smack. God, he looked so good in that thong. He’d have to take him shopping sometime soon, really spoil him. After only a couple of minutes, he collapsed on Dylan’s back, shuddering as he implanted his seed deep inside of the boy. His skin was slick with sweat, and he could hardly move he was so exhausted. He rolled off of him and soon fell asleep. When he awoke again, Dylan was gone. He sat up groggily, temporarily confused. Where was he, again? Then it came back to him–the incident at the office, the phone call with Bill. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t felt this out of it in ages. Old age catching up with him, he supposed. He got out of bed and walked into the living room, flicking on the light. A pink suitcase lay on the couch that he didn’t recognize. Dylan’s, probably. Everything the boy owned must have been in that thing. Poor kid. He debated opening it but held himself back. There are some things you just don’t want to know about people. He didn’t need to see the boy’s dirty laundry or sad little trinkets from home. All he needed was that mouth and sweet, sweet boy hole. The sound of keys in the door made him turn. Dylan walked in carrying a brown paper bag. “Oh, you’re up!” He set the bag down on the counter before walking over to kiss Ed. “Thought I’d grab us dinner,” he said with a grin. “How’d you pay for it?” asked Ed. Dylan smiled shyly. “I used the money you gave me yesterday. I figured it was the least I could do to thank you for everything.” Ed brushed the boy’s hair back and kissed him on the forehead. “I don’t want you spending a cent on me. I gave that money for you to treat yourself. Don’t go worrying about little old me, okay? Here-” He grabbed his wallet off the coffee table and pulled out two $100 bills. “Use this to get yourself something pretty. I’ll be back tomorrow and I’ll bring you some more.” Dylan’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Ed… that’s so much money. I don’t-” “Nonsense.” Ed lifted Dylan’s chin and kissed him. “I like taking care of my boy.” The look on Dylan’s face was worth ten times the money. He kissed him again, pulling him onto his naked lap. His hands slid underneath the boy’s shorts, and soon they were both naked with Dylan riding Ed’s cock once again. He squeezed the boy’s chest, thrusting himself high up into him. What was happening to him? He hadn’t been able to go this many times in a row in years. Something about the boy brought it out of him. After he’d deposited yet another load in Dylan’s hole, they cuddled naked in the living room, eating takeout and watching Cheers. Before he knew it it was almost 10 o’clock. “I gotta go, baby.” He kissed Dylan on the head and started pulling on his clothes. “You be a good boy and I’ll swing by tomorrow.” “Okay, Daddy.” He kissed Dylan goodbye, then drove back to his apartment on the Upper East Side. He was exhausted and couldn’t wait to slip into bed and pass out for the night. But when he tried to unlock the door to his apartment, his key wouldn’t work. “What the fuck?” he murmured. He tried his key again, but it still wouldn’t work. Then he noticed the doorknob had changed–where before it was gold, it was now bronze. He banged on the door. “Who’s in there? Open up!” He heard hushed whispering, then silence. The door opened to reveal his daughter, Susan. “What do you want, Dad?” “What do I want? What are you doing in my apartment? And why are the locks changed?” She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. “Mom’s back from the hospital. There’s nothing more they can do for her.” His heart sank. “Is she–?” “She doesn’t wanna see you. Now please, just go.” “I will not!” he said defiantly. “This is my apartment.” “Dad-” The door opened slowly behind Susan. Helen stood there, looking pale and waif-like in a satin robe. “It’s all right, Susan,” she said weakly. “But Mom-” “Let your father and I talk.” She nodded at Susan, who walked back into the apartment and shut the door behind her. “I demand to know the meaning of this,” Ed began, but Helen shook her head. “Don’t, Ed. Enough lying. I know all about your little club, your depravity.” His eyes went wide. “I don’t know what you’re-” “Just save it. I’ve known for ages. And I didn’t mind, because you were discreet. Whose husband doesn’t keep secrets? You were always faithful in the ways that mattered.” She coughed weakly. “But now look at me. What do I have to show for my loyalty? You’ve brought down more than just yourself–you’ve brought down the both of us.” She looked at him with disgust. “I won’t let you bring any more shame to this family.” “Now, listen here-” “Unless you want me to spill your secrets to the whole floor, you’ll leave. I’ll arrange for your things to be sent wherever you like. Maybe to that little apartment across town you think I don’t know about.” She opened the door and looked back at him, her face full of disdain. “Goodbye, Ed.” She shut the door behind her. He had half his mind made up to bang on the door and demand to be let in when he heard the sound of a door opening down the hall. His next-door neighbor was leaning out of his doorway, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “Everything alright, Ed?” He took a deep breath. “It’s fine, Hank.” “You sure? We heard yelling-” “Why don’t you mind your own goddamn business and let me mind mine!” He strode back over to the elevator and hit the button for the parking garage. When Dylan opened the door, he had a confused smile on his face. “Ed? What are you doing back?” He pushed past Dylan and started pacing around the apartment. “Fucking bitch. Thinks she can get rid of me. Me!” “Who? What are you talking about?” He turned and glared at Dylan. “My wife! Wants to kick me out of my own apartment. After everything I’ve done for her. Selfish cunt.” “Oh no.” Dylan put his arms around him. “I’m so sorry.” The boy’s touch felt good on his body. But his blood was boiling with anger, and he wasn’t in the mood to calm down. He wanted to hurt something. “Come here, you little slut.” He grabbed Dylan’s arm and pulled him into the bedroom. “Oh!” Dylan followed him, eyes wide with fear. “On the bed. Now!” Dylan obeyed, sitting on the bed as Ed began unbuckling his belt. “I’m sorry about-” “Turn around.” Dylan got on his hands and knees, his ass pushed out to receive his punishment. Ed grabbed his shorts and ripped them down to his ankles. Dylan had put on one of the lace pairs of bikini briefs, a light blue color that made his white ass look so fucking delicious. Ed folded his belt in half, then ran it slowly across Dylan’s ass cheek. “Daddy, what- AH!” The boy squealed as Ed smacked him across the bottom with his belt. It left a red mark on his pale white skin. “Quiet, boy.” He spanked him again, using one hand to grip Dylan’s waist and hold him in place for the beating. He spanked him several more times, leaving big red marks along the boy’s ass and upper legs. At first, Dylan was whimpering, but he soon began moaning as Ed spanked him with the belt. By the time Ed had dealt a dozen blows, Dylan was thrusting his ass back to meet the belt. Ed stripped off the lace panties and crouched behind his boy. He spit in his hand and rubbed it on his cock, then thrust angrily inside Dylan’s hole. Like a good whore, Dylan didn’t complain at all. He took his punishment with nothing but enthusiastic approval. Ed rutted inside him until he came with a loud groan. By the time he came, he was in love. From then on, Ed and Dylan lived together in that little apartment. Dylan never asked about what happened with Ed’s wife that night, and Ed made no effort to explain. He couldn’t confess the real reason he had lost everything, the false accusation that threatened to tear apart what little remained of Ed’s life. If Dylan knew that there was even a chance Ed had AIDS (or HIV, as they were now starting to call it), he might abandon Ed too. Without his job and his family, Ed’s life began to revolve more and more around Dylan. He spent his days golfing or working out, too embarrassed to admit he didn’t have anything better to do. Then he’d stop at a luxury store on the way home to buy Dylan a new pair of shoes or the latest designer bag. When Dylan got the flu a month into their love affair, he found he was actually a pretty good nursemaid, bringing him cold compresses and making him chicken noodle soup. As long as he wasn’t at a hospital, he didn’t mind taking care of his boy. Through all of it, they fucked like rabbits, Ed dressing his boytoy up in thongs and garters and fucking him like they were trying for a baby. But things started to take a turn with Ed’s health around Christmas 1986. He was getting weaker and weaker, barely able to make it through one round of golf before he needed to go home and sleep. He was constantly waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, and he’d had fevers on and off as long as he could remember. His pants were starting to fit loose, too, although he attributed that to good diet and exercise. Dylan begged him to go to a doctor and get checked out, but he refused. He’d rather die than go back to a hospital. By March, he was so sick he could barely get out of bed. Then it was Dylan’s turn to play nursemaid, making him soup and using his credit cards to buy groceries and medicine. He considered calling his daughter or his wife, but he held off, still angry with them for their betrayal. Dylan was the only one who cared about him, and that was all he needed. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?” Dylan asked one day in late March. They were lying in bed together, watching TV. Ed was thin as a rail, with protruding veins and some ghastly purple bruising that wouldn’t go away. Bedsores, probably. “No doctors,” said Ed. He turned his attention to the television, which was displaying the nightly news. “The FDA has just approved the first medication used to treat AIDS,” said the news anchor. “An antiretroviral drug named AZT initially developed to treat cancer has been shown to block the virus’ activity.” With enormous effort, Ed sat up in bed. His eyes were glued to the screen. “You okay?” asked Dylan. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. How could he say anything without admitting what he so desperately didn’t want to be true? “Could you go to the store for me?” he asked. “I could use another ice pack. My card-” “I know, I’ve got it,” said Dylan. He kissed Ed on the forehead before leaving. Once Ed was sure he heard the sound of the door closing, he picked up the phone and dialed. The phone felt heavier than ever in his hand as it rang. “Well. I didn’t expect to hear from you anytime soon.” “Bill…” Ed’s voice was raspy. “God, you sound terrible.” “I need your help. Please.” He gripped the phone tightly. “You’re not getting back in-” “I don’t want back in. I need you to get something for me. It’s a drug called AZT. Have you heard of it?” “Yes, I’ve heard of it. Why can’t you get it yourself?” Ed looked down at his veiny, wasted body. The purple splotches covered his arms like bruises. “I can’t be seen like this. Please, you have contacts. Just have someone order it for me and deliver it to my place on the Upper West Side.” Bill sighed. “Alright, Bill. Just this once. Then I don’t want to hear from you again, are we clear?” Ed waited day and night for the drugs to arrive. He was becoming forgetful, continually asking Dylan what day it was and where he was. In his lucid moments, he remembered he needed to intercept the package before it arrived, but he was afraid he would forget he’d even ordered it. Finally, once a month had passed, he plucked up the courage to ask Dylan about it. “Dylan?” He was lying in bed while Dylan was making dinner in the kitchen. He cleared his voice and called again louder. “Dylan!” Dylan walked in, wiping his hands on a towel. “What’s up?” “Have you gotten a package from anyone?” Dylan furrowed his brow. “Are you expecting anything?” “Just some medicine.” Dylan’s eyes brightened. “Oh!” He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. “You mean this?” Ed’s eyes went wide. “Is that… how did you get that?” Dylan took out a pill and popped it into his mouth. “It’s a miracle, isn’t it? Been taking it for a few weeks now and I feel right as rain.” “But… how did you know…” “That you have AIDS?” Dylan laughed. “Come on. It wasn’t that hard to tell. I mean, look at you!” He walked over and sat at the foot of the bed. “Of course, I knew you had AIDS ages ago. Before I even met you, actually.” Ed blinked. “What… what are you talking about?” Dylan sighed. “Oh, my poor, sweet Daddy. Do you really think it was a coincidence I was there at the pier that night? Just some sad, lonely boy from Oklahoma whose parents kicked him out for being gay? I can’t believe you fell for that story, by the way. I might be a great fuck but I’m a pretty shit storyteller. Still, you ate it up.” He pulled the sheets off the bed, revealing Ed’s wasted, veiny body. He climbed on top of him and ran his hands along his chest. He leaned in close to Ed’s ear and whispered, “You know your secret sex club of high-powered people you think nobody knows about? I’m part of it, Ed.” He sat up and sighed. “Well, I was, actually. Then I decided to go freelance. See, when they burned you, they told us boys not to talk to you if you reached out to any of us. Said you had AIDS and you were persona non grata. I’d never even met you before–you were out of town the night I was the star of the show. But when I heard about you and your situation, I knew it was an opportunity waiting for the taking.” Ed’s stomach sank. He felt like he was going to be sick. But Dylan was grinding on top of him, and despite his fear and revulsion, he could feel himself getting hard. Dylan lifted his hands and spread them out like he was reading from a marquee. “Think about it: lonely old man gets kicked out of sex club because he has AIDS. Nowhere else to turn for relief. Isn’t a guy like that the easiest kind of mark you can think of?” He looked down at Ed in pity. “They were laughing at you, Ed. They saw how you went to the piers and debased yourself, desperate for sex. I knew that if I dangled myself in front of you, you would give me anything I wanted. Shoes, clothes, a place to stay, cash. It was all so easy.” Dylan grabbed Ed’s hard cock through his pajama pants. “Even now, you’re still aching for me, aren’t you?” He pulled down Ed’s pants, then shimmied off his shorts and climbed back on top of him. “Then when you got sicker you just gave me your card, which was so stupid by the way. Do you know how much shit I’ve bought on your dime?” Ed swallowed, his throat dry. “I don’t understand,” he said hoarsely. “If you knew I had AIDS, why would you-” “Have sex with you?” Dylan reached back and lined Ed’s cock up with his hole, then sank down slowly. Ed stifled a groan. “I know I should have been scared of getting AIDS, but why bother? I mean, we’re all gonna get it eventually.” Dylan was gyrating on his cock, working his dick with those damn pussy muscles. “I figured, why not bite the bullet and get it when I want to? Take control of my destiny, you know what I mean? Especially when it comes with all these delicious perks.” Dylan moaned as Ed’s cock rubbed up against his prostate. He rode him harder, his hands tightly gripping Ed’s wasted chest. “Even now, all sickly and frail, you still drive me wild.” Ed began to groan as his body betrayed him, releasing his sperm into Dylan’s deceitful hole. Dylan grinned, his eyes mocking. He slid off of Ed and pulled his shorts back on. Ed spotted the bottle of AZT on the nightstand. He lifted his hand and pointed weakly. Dylan smiled. “Would you like some? Sorry, there’s not really enough to go around.” He grabbed the bottle and held it out of Ed’s reach. “But don’t worry. I’m gonna take good care of you. Plenty of food, water, and bed rest. No medicine needed.” He walked over to the door, slipping the bottle of pills back into his pocket. Ed’s mouth was dry as he called out, “Wait.” Dylan turned. “Yes?” Ed swallowed. “H-hospital…” Dylan laughed again, cruelly this time. “Oh, now you want a hospital?” He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he smiled sweetly. “Don’t you worry, Ed. We’re gonna beat this thing the old-fashioned way!”

Patient 2: Dario It started out with a cough. At first, Dario thought it was a cold that just wouldn’t go away. But when it lasted through the winter and well into the spring, he began to get worried. He felt tired almost all the time. He could barely make it through a workout without feeling out of breath. He tried going to the hospital, but they dismissed his symptoms without a second glance. “It’s probably allergies,” said the nurse. “Take some Benadryl and you’ll be fine.” He didn’t tell them his real fear. The fear that he’d been carrying with him the last couple of years, ever since he’d first heard about the gay plague that was terrorizing his community. Could it be true? Could he have AIDS? He’d been careful, he tried to reassure himself. He’d been a strict condom user ever since he’d first gotten his hands on that pamphlet. He had even volunteered for Gay Men’s Health Crisis back in New York, working the hotline to chat with worried men who were afraid they might be the next ones to be infected. It was impossible. He couldn’t have the virus. And yet his health continued to decline. He began losing weight, which got him more attention at the baths but did nothing to quell his concern. He left San Francisco, moving back in with his old roommate Jeff in New York City. He could hardly recall the passion that had led him to leave the city in the first place–all he wanted now was the comfort of home. Jeff welcomed him back with open arms, but he too grew concerned as he saw Dario getting sicker and sicker. “You need to go and get tested,” he said one day. It was early spring, 1985, and the city had yet to shed the chill of winter. “They can test for it now. Better to have the answer, right?” He put his hand on Dario’s shoulder. “I can go with you if you want.” “I’m fine,” said Dario. Unfortunately, he was betrayed at that particular moment by an especially harsh fit of coughing. “That’s it." Jeff stood up and held out his hand, looking at Dario like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I’m taking you there right now.” As they sat in the waiting room waiting for Dario’s test results, the sight of the other patients made him feel even worse. Some of the men were almost skin and bones, with that terrible wasted look. One of them even had a purple splotch on the back of his hand. He noticed Dario looking at him and covered it with his sleeve. Dario looked away. “Dario Badalejo?” called a nurse. He stood weakly. Jeff squeezed his hand. “Come with me,” she beckoned him. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. ____________________________________________________________________________ “I don’t understand,” said Jeff. “How could he have AIDS? He always uses a condom. That’s supposed to keep him safe. You said it would keep him safe!” The nurse shook her head. “Condoms aren’t foolproof. And if you’re the receptive partner, you’re a lot more likely to get AIDS. Especially if your partner is uncircumcised.” Dario laughed weakly. “First you’re shaming me for being a bottom, now you’re shaming me for loving uncut cock?” “I’m not-” “I’m never going to be able to have sex again, am I?” he asked. She shook her head. “It’s not a good idea. Not until they find a cure, or at least a treatment.” His stomach sank. He felt like he was going to be sick. “What’s the treatment plan?” asked Jeff. “We can treat the symptoms, but not much else,” said the nurse. “I’m sorry.” Jeff stood up. “This is bullshit.” He turned to Dario and grabbed his hand. “Come on. I’m taking you home.” Dario spent the next few days in bed, not from illness, but from grief. Despite his vigilance, despite how careful he’d been, he still got the virus. How could he have AIDS? What would happen to him? Would he die? He felt terrified and numb. Shame threatened to overwhelm him. His mother had been right after all. This was a lonely life. What of the men he’d been with over the last couple of years? Had he passed the virus onto them? All that time being careful, and for what? His sex drive had come back to haunt him in more ways than one. It was at that moment that he promised if he made it out of this, he would never have sex again. And then he got horny. It started about a week after his diagnosis. He woke up in the middle of the night sweating bullets, his cock hard as a rock. He’d been dreaming about getting fucked by a man. He couldn’t remember his face, but he could see his body crystal clear in his mind. Wasted. Veiny. Covered head-to-toe in purple lesions. It was horrifying, but somehow thrilling at the same time. Even now, his cock wouldn’t go down. He tossed and turned, trying to will himself back to sleep, but the lust was too much for him. He lay on his stomach and jerked his cock against the bed, rutting until he exploded with a loud cry. He awoke in the morning with his stomach glued to his bedsheets. His seed was hard and crusty on the sheets, full of his poison. He felt the shame overwhelm him as he remembered his dream. Why did that man turn him on? He should be repulsed, not aroused. As he washed the cum off of him in the shower, he conceded that jerking off was probably the most harmless way to deal with the lust he was feeling. At least that way he wasn’t harming anybody else. As long as he made sure to do his own laundry–he would hate to think of infecting Jeff and exposing him to this nightmare. Pretty soon, however, even jerking off began to get out of hand. He was waking up nightly in a sweat, his dreams filled with pale, wasted men and veiny cocks. But the worst were the dreams in which he was the wasted one, his brown skin pale and mottled as he preyed upon some unsuspecting young man. He couldn’t deny it, the idea of fucking another person, knowing that he had AIDS, made him hard. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, there was something about knowing he was positive and fucking someone anyway that turned him on. He had never been much of a top, always preferring to be the one getting fucked. Now there was a new desire in him, a desire to breed, to pass on what had been given to him, to give this curse to someone else. But that was all just fantasy. He wouldn’t actually have sex with someone, even with a condom. After all, condoms hadn’t protected him. He couldn’t count on them to protect anyone else. But what could he do? He couldn’t take this horniness for much longer. He had to do something to ease the tension and get the release he so desperately needed. After careful consideration, Dario decided to return to the baths. He definitely wasn’t going to have sex with anyone, but he decided that watching other people have sex would be okay. No one ever gave someone AIDS by being a voyeur, right? Of course, he couldn’t tell any of his friends there about his diagnosis, or else they wouldn’t even let him past the front door. He would have to pretend that nothing was wrong. “I’m going for a walk,” he told Jeff one evening after work. “Want me to come with you?” He shook his head. “I just need some time alone. Thanks though.” He felt bad lying to Jeff. His friend had been so good to him, staying by his side even through his diagnosis. But he needed release. He could control himself, he was sure of it. The second he stepped into the bathhouse, he was hard as a rock. He hadn’t been around a naked man in so long. It was summertime again, and the baths were filled with muscular men, daddies, and bears showing off their tanned bodies. He checked his clothes into a locker and wrapped himself in a fluffy white towel, heading to the pool to relax. A group of men lounged naked in the shallow end, their cocks floating in the water as they leaned back against the rim of the pool. One hairy older man stood in the corner, moaning as a slim younger guy sucked him with vigor. Dario sat on the edge of the deep end, away from the rest of the people. He wanted to ditch the towel and start stroking his cock, but he was self-conscious about drawing attention to himself. Better to take his time and ease into it. He lay back, closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of laughter, moaning, and grunting that floated through the air around him. Mindlessly, his hand slipped under his towel as he began to rub himself. The sensation of water dripping on his face snapped him back to attention. He opened his eyes to see an older man standing over him, the water from the pool falling down his naked body and dripping off the end of his cock. He had a thick cock with a light pink head, which sat nestled in a pair of large, hairy balls. He was looking down at Dario with a smirk on his face. “Mind if I join you?” Not waiting for an answer, he sat down next to Dario, leaning against one hand to display his naked body to him. Although the man was at least in his late 50s, he was in remarkably good shape. Dario had always had a thing for daddies, and this man was like something out of a dream. His skin was tan and mostly tight against his body, which you rarely saw on older guys. He had a bit of a pouch on his stomach, but the hair on his chest and stomach just made it look even sexier. Dario’s jaw dropped slightly as he took in every inch of the man. The guy laughed. “You know, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” “S-sorry.” “You new to the baths?” He shook his head. “I just… haven’t been in a while.” “Ah,” said the guy. “I feel like I’m crawling the walls if I’m away for even more than a week.” The guy put his hand on Dario’s leg, sliding it slowly underneath the towel. “You should get more comfortable. It’s all right–I won’t bite.” Dario bit his lip as the man undid the towel and let it fall away. His dick was rock hard and pointed straight up. The man laughed. “Nice cock,” he said as he wrapped his fingers around it. Dario moaned as the man slid his foreskin up and down. A little bit of precum dribbled out of the head. He gasped in surprise when the man leaned down and took the head of his dick into his mouth. “Fuck,” he whispered. The man’s tongue felt so good on his dick. He hadn’t felt a mouth on his dick in forever. It felt better than sin. He was sure he was about to burst when the man released his cock and sat up, grinning. “Yummy,” he said, savoring the taste of Dario’s precum on his tongue. “You want to come to my room? I’d love to get inside that hole.” He reached his hand under Dario’s cock, sliding his fingers along his taint and towards his hole. Dario wanted to give in, wanted to let the man fuck him, virus be damned. But he saw Jeff’s face in his mind. What would his friend think of him now? He scrambled to his feet, his heart racing. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He wrapped his towel around his waist and hurried back towards the front. He didn’t look back at the man, too scared about how close he’d come to breaking his vow. He’d barely been at the baths an hour before he’d almost had sex with someone! Sure, maybe they would have used a condom, but he’d agreed he wouldn’t even allow himself to do that. So much for willpower. He stayed away from the baths for the next couple of weeks, convinced that his little experiment was a colossal failure. But his horniness was only getting worse. His dreams, which before had featured faceless men with wasted bodies, were now filled with the old man from the baths. He dreamt about fucking him, about riding his cock and spraying his seed all over the man’s chest. He dreamt about cumming deep inside the man, staring in his eyes as he delivered what he knew would be a killing blow. The shame became unbearable–how could he condemn another person to what he was going through? He couldn’t do it, no matter how horny he became. Then came that fateful day a few weeks later. The summer was almost over, as July had come and gone and they were well into August. He was sitting on the couch channel surfing with Jeff when they landed on a report from the local news station. “Rising cases of AIDS and the closure late last year of San Francisco bathhouses has led local health officials to call for the New York State Public Health Council to close gay bathhouses, bars, and clubs in an effort to stop the spread of the disease,” said the reporter. “Good.” Jeff frowned. “I know it’s a blow to our community, but I just can’t fathom why some people would be so reckless. Don’t they know what they’re doing to themselves?” “We spoke with local congressman Ed Green to hear his thoughts on the epidemic and whether the city should take the step of closing down these facilities.” The man’s face that came on the screen nearly caused Dario’s brain to short-circuit. “I don’t give a lick whether they close these facilities or not,” said the man. “Go ahead and keep them open. These degenerates brought all this nonsense on themselves. As far as I’m concerned, the less of them the better.” “What a fucking asshole!” Jeff grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. He threw it against the couch. “I can’t believe people like him even exist.” Dario could. After all, he’d almost fucked him at the bathhouse just a few weeks ago. He’d been wearing a suit on TV, but Dario would recognize that face anywhere. “You know what?” Jeff asked. He turned towards him, his voice raising with anger. “It’s people like him that deserve this virus. Not us. I hope you get AIDS, Ed Green.” Dario blinked in surprise. “I’ve never known you to be so vindictive.” “Am I wrong? The guy’s reprehensible!” Then something clicked in his head. It was too horrible to even consider–or was it? “What if he did?” he asked. “What if he did get AIDS?” “Good.” Jeff scoffed. “He can rot for all I care.” The image of Ed’s naked body growing thin and wasted popped into Dario’s brain. He was getting hard again, aroused at the idea of spreading the virus to someone who truly deserved it. Jeff was right–if anybody deserved AIDS, it was this guy. Maybe Dario wasn’t a victim of fate. Maybe he was an agent of it. He went back to the bathhouse every night that week, keeping his eyes peeled for Congressman Ed Green. He no longer had any fear of giving in to temptation and fucking someone else. Now that he had a target, he was a man on a mission. It was easy to avoid the flirty gazes and wandering hands of the patrons at the baths. He was saving his load for someone special. It was late one Saturday night when he finally saw him. He walked into the pool room a little after midnight, a towel wrapped around his waist. Even through the towel, you could see the outline of his dick. God, what Dario wouldn’t give to feel it in his ass. But he wasn’t here to bottom. The only way to be sure of spreading the virus was to cum inside the man. Dario watched as the congressman slipped off his towel and waded into the water. He slipped in behind him, his heart racing as he slowly approached his prey. Ed turned and saw Dario, then smiled. “Well, hello again.” Even with what he knew about the man, his deep, sexy voice still made Dario weak in the knees. “Fancy seeing you here.” “Haven’t seen you in a while,” said Ed. “Figured I scared you off last time.” Dario shook his head. “I wasn’t scared of you.” Ed raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Dario slid his hand under the water and squeezed Ed’s cock. “I was scared of this.” Ed moaned. He put his hand on Dario’s ass, pulling him in closer. “I’ve never had one so big,” Dario continued. “I guess I just got scared.” “You don’t need to be scared, baby.” Ed grabbed the back of Dario’s head and pulled him in gently. “I told you–I don’t bite.” He kissed Dario, his tongue working its way into Dario’s mouth and opening him up. Dario continued stroking his cock, feeling it grow into full hardness under the water. The older man’s hands were squeezing his ass, then lifting him until his legs were wrapped around the man’s waist. Ed pinned him against the edge of the pool, kissing him deeply as he rubbed his cock up against his hole. “I want you,” Ed whispered in his ear. “Let me fuck you.” “Only if you let me return the favor.” Ed pulled back, a frown on his face. “I don’t get fucked.” Dario kissed his neck. “You don’t know what you’re missing. Trust me, the best tops are guys who like to bottom. I’ll take it slow, I promise.” Ed let go of him. “Forget it.” Dario felt the panic rising in his chest as the older man started to move away. He had to give him the virus, one way or another. He grabbed Ed’s hand. “Okay. Okay, fair enough. Just thought I’d try to get a shot at that beautiful ass.” Ed smirked. “Can’t blame you for trying.” He pulled Dario toward the edge of the water. “Come on. I have a room here.” He led Dario past the other patrons talking and fondling each other in the hallway and took him towards a room in the back. It was bare and cramped, with nothing but a rectangular mirror glued behind a cot. Ed sat down on the cot with his back against the wall and spread his legs, letting his half-hard cock flop down and hang in front of those delicious-looking balls. Dario dropped to his knees. He stuck his nose in the sweaty crevice between the man’s sack and his leg. Fuck, he loved the smell of man musk and chlorine. He took one of the hairy balls in his mouth and started sucking on it. “Fuck,” Ed moaned. He put his hands behind his head, relaxing as Dario slid his cock into his mouth. Dario was feeling cock-drunk as he worshipped the man’s shaft. It had been so long since he’d been able to enjoy another man’s body, and he wanted to savor every minute of it. He knew he should be figuring out a way to get the old man to bottom for him, but he was too caught up in fellating him. How could he have ever thought he could go the rest of his life without having sex with a man again? This was fucking heaven. It was more than just sex–it was why he was alive. As long or as short as he lived, he wanted to feel this again and again as much as he possibly could. “Turn around and let me see that hole,” said Ed. Dario pulled the man’s cock out of his mouth and stood. He used his hands to brace himself against the floor as he put his legs on either side of Ed. The older man’s hands grabbed him by the hips and pulled him closer to his face. He heard the sound of spitting, then felt the wonderful feeling of Ed’s tongue lapping him up. His cock was leaking precum now, he was so turned on by getting eaten out. He had always loved getting his ass eaten, but it seemed to feel even better now than it ever had before. Was that because it had been so long, or did it have something to do with the virus? It seemed to have made him hornier. Maybe it made sex feel better too. Ed’s tongue worked its way deep inside him, lubing him up and preparing his hole for the taking. His arms were shaking as he felt the man’s tongue probing him, opening him up to be fucked again for the first time in ages. “Fuck, I love eating your pussy,” said Ed. “I hear it feels even better on your cock,” he replied. Ed spanked him on the cheek. “Get up and bend over the bed. I want to take you from behind.” Dario got back on his feet, propping himself up against the cot as he waited to be entered. He practically wept when he felt Ed’s cock rubbing up against his hole. He wanted this so badly. “Shh…” Ed whispered in his ear. “You can take it.” Ed was pushing into him now. His cock felt wet, so he must have put some lube on it, but it was still painful as it worked its way into his guts. Dario hadn’t bottomed in so long, he knew his first time back wouldn’t be easy. But the pain paled in comparison to his lust. Ed buried his cock deep inside of Dario, his wiry grey pubes scratching Dario’s ass. “God I love your wet cunt.” He pulled out a bit and rammed it back in, making Dario cry out. He started fucking him faster, his cock battering Dario’s prostate again and again. Dario just laid his cheek against the cot and allowed the old man to use his hole. As the man fucked him again and again, Dario felt a sense of bliss overtake him. This felt right, being here. As much as he’d tried to deny it, when he was a teenager and again when he found out he had the virus, he knew that this was who he was meant to be. He was meant to be used by men, to take cock by whoever would give it to him. Even his time spent using condoms had been foolish–he was simply prolonging the inevitable. Better to give into his base desires and be who he truly was than to settle for some kind of half-life of mediocre sex. “Fuck, you faggots are so easy.” Ed laughed. “You’ll spread your legs for any guy with a pulse and a cock, won’t you? Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum… Ugh, take it. Fucking take it!” He grunted, then slammed his cock all the way in as he began to fill Dario with cum. Dario counted the pulses that filled him: one, two, three, four, five. As much as he hated the man who had bred him, he couldn’t deny everything the man said. He was a faggot who loved cock. But so was the old man. “Whew.” Ed pulled out of Dario and lay back against the cot. He wiped the sweat off of his brow. “You are one good lay.” Dario lay beside him, running his fingers through the man’s chest hair. “So are you.” He leaned down and took one of Ed’s nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting it as he grabbed the man’s wet cock. Ed laughed. “I’m a bit too spent to go again that fast. Maybe another time.” Dario lifted his head. “I know a trick that’ll make you rock hard again. Wanna try it?” Ed raised an eyebrow. “Rock hard, huh?” Dario crouched at the bottom of the cot and put his hands on Ed’s thighs. “Just relax. I’ll do all the work.” Ed rolled his eyes. “If your trick is a blowjob, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” But Dario ignored his cock. Instead, he grabbed Ed’s legs and hoisted them in the air. Before Ed knew what hit him, Dario’s tongue was buried deep in his asshole. “Oh fuck… Jesus, kid.” Dario made love to the man’s asshole, wiggling his tongue around and rubbing his nose against the man’s taint. He pushed his tongue as far as it could go, prying open his sphincter and tasting the sweet flesh within. By the sound of Ed’s moans, he wasn’t used to someone eating him out. He ran his hands through Dario’s hair as he ate him out. He pulled his face off of Ed’s hole for a second to stick one of his fingers in his mouth, then rubbed it up against the outside of the old man’s asshole. “Wait a minute, I don’t-” Ed’s words turned into cries of pleasure as Dario jammed his finger straight into the old man’s ass. He felt around until he found that precious little spot deep inside the asshole, then hammered it with his finger for all he was worth. “What are you- oh god… oh GOD!” Ed’s arms and legs went limp as Dario worked the man’s prostate. Dario smiled to himself as he watched the man get so bent out of shape over being fingered. Why some people denied themselves the pleasure of prostate play was beyond him. Keeping his finger buried in Ed’s asshole, he slid up the cot until his face was next to Ed’s. “Does that feel good?” he whispered. “Yes,” Ed said breathlessly. “I can make you feel better.” “How?” Dario kissed him, and for the first time, he was the aggressor. He climbed on top of Ed, grabbed his cock, and placed it against the old man’s hole. “Let me show you.” Then, without waiting for Ed’s response, he plunged his cock as deep inside the man’s hole as it would go. “Holy fuck! Jesus Christ… pull it out!” Ed shouted. “Shh…” Dario whispered in his ear. “You can take it.” He stayed still, giving the old man a few seconds to adjust. Despite the pain of the intrusion, Ed hadn’t gone limp at all–in fact, he was as hard as ever. Dario looked in his eyes and, when he didn’t see any sign of protest, began slowly fucking him. “Oh Jesus… that feels so good,” said Ed. “I told you, bottoms make the best tops,” said Dario. “We know what feels good. And we know how to find just the right spot.” He pulled his cock out a couple of inches, rubbing it up against the spot where he knew Ed’s prostate would be. “Holy shit. Ugh… fuck, don’t stop,” said Ed. “Just… just pull out before you cum in me. Okay? I don’t want to get sick.” Dario nodded, although he knew he would do no such thing. Not when he was so close to his prize. He fucked Ed slowly, careful to make it all about the older man’s pleasure. He knew that the best way to give him the virus was to make him want it. Now that he was inside, he was going to make this such a memorable experience that Ed would beg to be fucked again and again. Until it was sure to take. The tightness of Ed’s virgin hole was enough to bring Dario to the edge within minutes. He would have to be quiet about his orgasm if he wanted to accomplish his mission. He kept his breathing steady as he felt the pressure riding in his balls. Ed’s eyes were closed, his face sweaty as he grappled with how good it felt to let a man fuck you. For a moment, Dario felt guilty about what he was about to do. But then he remembered the way Ed had sneered when confronted with the virus. These degenerates brought all this nonsense on themselves. As far as I’m concerned, the less of them the better. You brought it on yourself, Ed. Dario kissed him to cover up the fact that he was cumming inside his hole. He grabbed his hands, pinning them against the cot as he rutted inside the man’s hole. The pressure of months of chastity released itself through his balls, entering the man’s rectum and infecting him the way that he himself had been infected. He didn’t slow his thrusting for a second, continuing to fuck even as his cumming began to slow and his orgasm faded. “You’re gonna pull out before you cum, right?” said Ed. “Of course.” Dario kissed the old man again, wrestling with the man’s tongue as he worked his seed deeper into his rectum. Now that he had cum, he started fucking Ed slow and sensual. Pinching his nipples, kissing his neck, stroking the head of his cock as he fucked him. He had Ed wrapped around his finger, making him moan and whimper with every touch. “I’m getting close,” said Ed. “Me too.” Dario stopped in mid-thrust. “Do you want me to pull out?” “No!” Ed said, his eyes growing wide. He was stroking himself wildly, desperate for a second cum. “Don’t stop fucking me.” Dario resumed pumping in and out of him, but he felt the familiar tension rising in his balls. “Ugh… fuck, I’m gonna cum if I keep going,” he teased. “I think I should pull out.” “No!” Ed wrapped his legs around Dario’s ass, trapping him inside him. “Just… a little… longer.” “Oh fuck… here I come!” said Dario. He felt a second orgasm flooding through him, his balls pumping a second load into Ed’s hole. Ed’s cock was shooting as well, dousing their stomachs in his seed. Dario collapsed on top of the old man, their chests sliding against each other as his cock dribbled the last of his seed into Ed’s no-longer-virgin hole. “Oh God… what did I just do?” Ed’s eyes were wide. “I don’t bottom, I don’t… you’re clean, right? Please tell me you’re clean.” Dario smiled. He ran his fingers through Ed’s hair, then kissed him gently on the lips. “It’s all good, baby. You have nothing to worry about.” “Oh thank God.” Ed sighed. “Fuck, that did feel good though,” he said with a grin. Dario pulled his cock out of the old man and sat back on his knees. “I’m down for a rematch anytime you are.” Ed sat up and kissed him. “I’ll give you my number. I’ve got a few friends who might be interested in joining in if you like that sort of thing. They’re discreet like me, but I can trust you, right?” Dario smiled. If Ed’s friends were anything like him, then he wouldn’t have to work too hard to find his next victim. “My lips are sealed.” —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dario walked through the door of his apartment practically buzzing. Jeff sat on the couch watching TV. He smiled when he caught sight of Dario. “Hey man. What’s up with you? You feeling okay?” Dario plopped down on the couch next to him. “I feel amazing. Better than ever, actually.” “That’s great!” Jeff squeezed his hand. “I know you took it pretty hard, the diagnosis and all. Not being able to have sex. But there really is so much else to life.” Dario smiled. “You’re right. I have a lot to live for.” It was true. Stealthing that asshole at the baths had done more than lift his spirits–it had given him a new purpose. He was no longer a victim. He was taking control of his destiny. This virus hadn’t been a curse at all. It had shown him who he was, who he was truly meant to be. He didn’t know how long he had left to live. But whether it was a month, a year, or a decade, he knew one thing: he would take as many assholes with him as he could in the time he had left.

Thanks! I plan on working in a bit of history throughout the tale. It’s interesting to research and explore what people’s attitudes were like towards HIV at different times in history.

Hi everybody! I’ve written a lot of erotic fiction elsewhere, but this is my first story on Breeding Zone. I’m sure a similar setup has been done in the past, but I thought this would be a fun saga to write. The premise is the path of a virus making its way from person to person, claiming more and more victims (both willing and unwilling). Enjoy! Patient 1: Sam The summer of 1983 was off to a sweltering start. Sam had moved to San Francisco three years ago, but he couldn’t remember a hotter period in the city. He’d stayed inside as much as possible, glued to the small AC unit in the bedroom window of his tiny apartment. Of course, that awful flu from last week certainly hadn’t helped. He’d come down pretty suddenly with a raging fever and horrible muscle aches, confined to his room for almost two weeks. He could barely get out of bed, let alone out into that summer heat. Now that he was feeling better, he was looking forward to finally getting laid. It had been too long since he’d had sex. The last guy he’d fucked had been this totally hot flight attendant he’d met on a flight back to his hometown in Alabama. The guy was a total DILF: mid-30s, blonde hair, thick mustache like a caterpillar. The second Sam stepped on the plane he knew he was gonna fuck this guy. They were barely off the ground before the attendant slipped Sam a note asking him to meet him in the first-class lavatory. When he arrived, the guy already had his cock out of his pants and was stroking it. “Get on your knees,” he said. Sam complied, dropping to the ground and taking the man’s cock into his soft mouth. He sucked him hungrily, bringing the guy’s cock to full, beautiful hardness within seconds. “Bend over the sink.” The man pulled his pants down to the ground. His cock sprang out, wet and hard. Sam had only bottomed once or twice before, but this cock was too delicious to pass up. He unzipped his pants, releasing his throbbing cock from his briefs. He stroked it in his hand as he felt the head of the man’s cock rubbing up against his hole. Then it was pushing its way in, tearing up his insides as it sank deep inside. A little lube would have been nice, though Sam never used lube himself when he was the one doing the fucking. He preferred the natural, slick wetness of a man’s insides. The flight attendant fucked him roughly, grabbing his hips and thrusting him back against his cock. Precum dripped out of his cock, which bounced wildly with every thrust. “Such a tight hole,” the man said with a smirk. “You a virgin?” “Mmph… I’m a top… ugh…” moaned Sam. The man laughed, then picked up the pace, fucking him harder. “Sure you are.” Sam just moaned. The cock was rubbing up against something inside him, and as he stroked his cock, he could feel his orgasm just around the corner. But before he could shoot off, the man shoved his cock deep inside him and groaned. “Take that load… fuck yeah,” said the flight attendant as his cock pulsed inside Sam’s hole. He could feel every burst of the man’s seed as it worked its way deep inside his rectum. It was just what he needed to push him over the edge, spraying his own load over the bathroom mirror as he let out a cry. But that had been a month ago. He stayed with his parents in Alabama for the next couple of weeks, which left him no time (and very little options) for cruising. Then, the second he stepped foot back into the city, he’d been hit with that awful flu. Sam hadn’t gone this long without having sex since he’d lost his virginity at 18. He knew he was a bit of a late bloomer, but he’d wasted no time making up for it over the next three years. At 21, he was still in his sexual prime. He was tall and trim, with a body he’d worked hard for and a pretty sizable dick he’d been blessed with. He practically lived at the baths, spending his evenings after work pumping iron and cruising the sauna. He’d gotten off in more guys than he could count, getting his dick sucked and blowing a load in whichever naive bottom just moved to town. Now it was a Sunday morning, bright and hot as ever. He’d used up his sick pay calling out the last two weeks, so he knew he’d have to go back in tomorrow. Today was his last chance to get laid before the workweek. He pulled on a pair of white jockey Y-fronts and some cutoff jean shorts, his dark brown bush peeking out from the top. A lot of guys these days had started shaving, but he loved how manly he felt with a full, dark bush. There was something so hot about seeing a guy’s nose buried in his pubes. Since it was too hot to wear much more than that outside, he tucked a tank top into his back pocket and headed out the door. As soon as he stepped outside he felt the sun beating down on him. Sweat dripped down his chest, practically steaming off of his hot skin. For a moment he wondered if he was still slightly feverish. Perhaps he should stay home after all. But his cock was too busy leading the way, so he wiped his brow and set off in the direction of the baths, already dreaming of slipping into the cold pool. When he turned the corner, the sight of the man at the end of the block almost made him stop in his tracks. He was short and thick, a perfect mix of muscle and curves that Sam loved on the guys he fucked. Forget the skinny twinks–Sam was all about having something to grab onto while fucking. The guy wore a black tank top and baseball cap, which showed off his dark tan skin and beefy chest. As he got closer, Sam could see that he was probably Latino. He had a thin black mustache on his upper lip, and he was looking right at Sam with a gleam he recognized all too well. They slowed down as they passed each other, each turning their heads to check the other out. Sam got a look at the guy’s ass, which looked full and fuckable in a pair of black workout shorts. He locked eyes with the guy again, who smiled and beckoned him with a subtle nod. The chase was on. Sam turned on his heels, following the hot Latino man down the street. He was growing hard at the anticipation of sinking into that tight hole. He shoved his hand down his Y-fronts to adjust himself, then grinned as the man looked back and saw him. The guy kept walking for another couple of blocks before turning down a street lined with a row of apartments. After a minute, he stopped in front of a tall rust-colored building. Without looking at Sam, he walked up the stairs to the entrance and unlocked the door. For a second, Sam thought he’d disappeared inside without him, but as he made his way up the steps, he could see a hand holding the door open. He put his hand on the other man’s, feeling his soft, warm skin as he slipped inside the apartment and the door shut behind them. Without a word, he followed the guy up the stairs. The man’s ass was an inch away from his face, jiggling deliciously in those black shorts. He stuck his nose in close and breathed deeply, inhaling the man’s musk. He’d have his tongue deep in there in a minute, he was sure. The man stopped on the third floor in front of one of the apartment doors. He turned and smiled at Sam. “Dario,” he said. “Excuse me?” The guy laughed. “Dario. It’s my name.” He had a little bit of an accent that Sam found incredibly sexy. “Oh. I’m Sam.” Dario bit his lip. “Sam… would you like to come inside?” Would he ever! He put his thumb on Dario’s lip, pulling open that soft mouth. He slipped it inside to feel the wetness of Dario’s tongue. Dario closed his mouth around it, sucking on Sam’s thumb like it was an audition. “Fuck yeah,” he said. He grabbed the back of Dario’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue invaded Dario’s mouth, wrestling for dominance. His hands slid into Dario’s shorts and squeezed that thick, juicy ass. He could feel the heat rising in him, urging him to seed this bottom. But before his fingers could make their way into the holy land, Dario broke the kiss. “Follow me,” he said breathlessly. He opened the door and walked inside the apartment, leaving Sam to follow. The place was small but intimate. It looked like Dario lived alone–good. No interruptions, then. Dario stripped off his tank top. He was smooth all over, a thin layer of sweat covering his light brown skin. Sam reached forward and grazed his fingertips against Dario’s skin. He rubbed his thumbs over the man’s nipples. Dario shuddered and leaned his head back, exposing his neck for the taking. Sam leaned in and ran his lips against Dario’s ear. “What are you into?” he whispered. He was playing with Dario’s nipples, enjoying hearing the bottom boy moan. “Whatever you want,” whimpered Dario. He smiled. Right answer. He latched onto Dario’s neck, kissing and licking and biting him as his hands groped the man’s ass. He reached his fingers underneath Dario’s shorts to feel the rough band of a jockstrap. He pulled it back and let it smack against Dario’s ass, making the man moan again. Then he slid his fingers downward, prying apart those sweaty cheeks to find the sweet hole between them. Dario let out a whimper as Sam’s fingertip brushed against his hole. He gently rubbed the outside of it, feeling the smoothness. Smooth holes always made him rock hard. He stuck the tip of his finger inside and wiggled it deep. “Oh, fuck,” said Dario. Sam cut him off with a kiss. His tongue was rough, fighting its way inside the little Latino bottom. He needed to be inside him and he needed to be inside him now. “Bedroom,” he said gruffly. Dario grabbed his cock through his jean shorts, leading him through the living room to a smaller room at the back. The room was dark and hot, with blackout curtains cutting off the light. A fan was running at full blast, but it did little more than swirl the hot air around the room. “Sorry there’s no AC,” said Dario. “Get on the bed.” Sam pulled off his shorts and underwear, letting his dick spring free. Dario laid back against the bed, but when he reached to grab Sam’s dick, Sam grabbed his hands. “No touching,” he said. “You have rope? Handcuffs?” Dario reached into his bedside table and pulled out a pair of cuffs. “Perfect. Now turn around.” He took the cuffs from Dario, then watched as Dario lay flat on his stomach, arms outstretched. Good boy. He put the handcuffs on Dario’s left wrist, then looped it through the headboard before attaching it to his other wrist. He was leaking like mad, leaving a trail of precum on Dario’s lower back. He pulled off Dario’s shorts to reveal his smooth hole. The boy’s ass was so big it looked like the jockstrap could barely contain it. He grabbed his cheeks and pried them apart, mouth watering as he ran his tongue over that tight pucker. Dario was moaning like crazy now, writhing against the bed as he ate him out. He loved eating a boy’s pussy. They were like putty in your hands if you knew how to work your tongue in their hole. But his cock was hard and angry. It wanted in. He rubbed his cock against Dario’s hole and put his mouth against the bottom’s ear. “You want this dick inside you.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes,” whispered Dario. But just as he was about to shove it into that warm, wet slice of heaven, he heard the words that made his blood run cold. “There’s a condom in the drawer.” Sam growled. He had never used a condom in his life. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. “I don’t do condoms.” “But haven’t you heard?” Dario looked back at him, eyes wide. “Heard what?” “There’s that thing going around. A virus. My friend in New York was telling me about it. He gave me a pamphlet.” Dario nodded towards the nightstand. It held a small white pamphlet with black lettering that read How to Have Sex in an Epidemic: One Approach. “It says you could get it from getting fucked,” said Dario. Sam huffed. “Well, I don’t get fucked. I fuck. So you don’t have to worry about me, baby–I’m clean.” He rubbed his cock against Dario’s hole again, hoping to make the bottom forget about all this condom nonsense. “Mm.. oh fuck.. It’s not… look, man, I hate it too. But you gotta put one on, okay?” Sam sighed angrily. He was half tempted to just walk out of there, leave Dario handcuffed, and find some bottom at the baths who actually knew how to fuck the way God intended. But the boy looked so fucking hot there, handcuffed and helpless. And that hole had tasted so good… maybe it would be worth it, just this once. “Fine. Where are they?” Dario nodded his head to the nightstand drawer. Sam pulled out a roll of condoms, looking at them in disgust. What was he, a fucking hetero? All this condom talk was making his dick limp. He tore off one of the condoms and set it on the table. He climbed further up the bed, grabbed Dario’s head, and turned it to the side, then shoved his cock deep inside the guy’s mouth. He face fucked him for a minute, getting his dick nice and wet and back to full mast. Finally, when he felt hard as a rock, he ripped open the condom and rolled it down onto his cock. “There’s some lube-” “I don’t need lube,” said Sam. He spit on his hand and rubbed it around the edge of the condom. Then, in one fell swoop, he shoved his cock deep inside Dario’s asshole. “Oh, fuck! Dude, you gotta take it easy,” pleaded Dario. So, maybe he was punishing him a little. So what. He deserved it, what with all that condom bullshit. He pulled his dick out halfway, then rammed it back inside. “Oh! Oh, Jesus,” Dario whimpered. Sam rammed his cock in and out, in and out. He was dripping sweat from his forehead onto Dario’s back, running down that beautiful skin and pooling in the man’s lower back. He leaned down and kissed Dario, thrusting his cock deep inside him again and again. He could feel Dario whimpering in his mouth, no doubt struggling as Sam’s cock tore him up inside. But Sam had enough experience to know that soon enough Dario would be begging him for more. He grabbed the back of Dario’s head and shoved him face-first in the pillow, plowing the man’s hole with reckless abandon. “Take that cock you fucking faggot,” he moaned. Dario’s hole was unbelievably tight, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of how much better it would be raw. The condom felt tight around the head of his dick, making his cock feel less sensitive. He fucked him harder and faster, channeling his rage into his cock. The condom got tighter and tighter around the head of his cock until it was almost too much to bear. Then he felt it–that glorious pop. The condom had snapped. “Oh fuck…” he moaned. His cock felt like heaven inside Dario’s hole. Now there was nothing between the sensitive head and Dario’s warm, wet insides. There was nothing holding him back anymore. He pulled his cock out and thrust it back in, rubbing his cockhead across Dario’s wet fuck chute. “Ugh… Oh… That feels so good,” Dario moaned. “You like that? Like being fucked by a real man?” “Ugh.. yeah… the-the condom’s still on, right?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.” “Uhh… are you sure?” He smacked Dario’s ass, making the flesh jiggle. “Don’t worry about it. Now squeeze your ass on my dick.” Dario put his face into the pillow and arched his back up, squeezing his tight hole around Sam’s dick. “Deeper,” he moaned. Sam smirked as he started fucking him again. These bottoms were so stupid. A little bit of dominance and they’ll do anything you say. He couldn’t wait to paint this boy’s insides with his nut, just like God intended. He was fucking him roughly again, lost in the animalistic heat of the moment. His skin felt like it was on fire, hotter than it had been when he was feverous just a few days ago. He slammed his hips against Dario’s cheeks, holding onto the jockstrap like a horse’s reigns as he fucked the shit out of this boy. “Ugh… oh slow down, that hurts…” He ignored him, picking up the pace as he felt his orgasm build. The only thing that mattered now was his own pleasure. He needed to spill his seed, to breed this boy and mark him as his own. He needed to plant his seed so deep inside of Dario that he would be a part of him forever. “Ugh… fuck… I’m coming!” He wrapped his arms around Dario’s chest, squeezing the boy tightly as he blew his load inside him. His cock was planted as far in as it could go, and he felt nothing but ecstasy as it filled the boy’s rectum with cum. He could feel his cock throbbing, pulsing with his heartbeat. He collapsed onto Dario’s back, his cock twitching as it released its last few dribbles of cum. He put his nose in Dario’s hair and breathed in the boy’s scent. It smelled clean and fresh, like a flower waiting to be defiled. Another job well done. “That was fucking hot,” said Dario, his back heaving as he breathed heavily. Sam pulled his cock out of Dario’s hole, relishing one last feel of the boy’s insides. There was a light pink froth on the outside of the condom, a beautiful mixture of cum and a little bit of blood that he sometimes saw when he pushed a bottom to his limits. When he pulled his cock all the way out, he could see the tip of the condom hanging precariously off. He laughed to himself. “What’s so funny?” Dario asked, turning his head to smile at him. Sam ripped off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket by the bed. “Nothing. Let’s get you off.” He wasn’t a total douchebag, after all. Just because he cared more about his own pleasure than anyone else’s didn’t mean he didn’t like helping bottoms get off. He released Dario from the handcuffs, then turned the boy on his back and kissed him. His hand traced down Dario’s chest, squeezing his meaty pecs and pinching his dark brown nipples. He trailed down the smooth, sweaty skin of his pecs and stomach until his hand reached underneath Dario’s ass, where he slipped his fingers in the boy’s hole once more. “Ahh,” Dario hissed. “It’s a little sore.” Sam kissed his neck. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered. Dario pulled his cock out of the jockstrap pouch, tugging on it as Sam fingered him deeply. He was working the cum deeper into the boy’s hole, careful to remove any trace of his stealthing. After all, what Dario didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. It wasn’t like there was a real chance of him catching anything anyway. Sam had been to the clinic just a couple of months ago and tested clean. What could he possibly have? “Ugh… oh god, yes,” Dario moaned. He was jerking his cock, his hole gripping Sam’s finger like a vice. Sam shoved his finger in as deep as it would go and wiggled it around. “Cum for me. Now!” Dario cried out as his cock began to spurt. The cum flew up and hit him on the chest, covering those beautiful brown nipples in sticky white seed. Sam kissed him, ravaging the boy’s prostate with his finger as he rode the orgasm. God, he loved breeding these boys more than anything but diddling them to completion was a reward all unto itself. He watched the cum spurting out of Dario’s cock less and less until it was just a dribble. “Wow,” Dario whispered once he’d finished cumming. “That was incredible.” Sam smirked. He pulled his finger out of Dario and sucked it clean. He loved the taste of a boy well fucked. Then he pulled on his jean shorts, stuffing the Y-fronts into his pocket. “Can I see you again?” asked Dario. He pulled on his shoes. “I’ll be at the baths if you’re ever up for another round.” It was certainly possible that they’d hook up again, but not very likely. Sam didn’t like to plow the same field too many times–there were so many other holes to conquer. Still, best to let him have a bit of hope. As he left Dario’s apartment, he felt a sudden burst of energy. Instead of heading home, he set off in the direction of the baths. He’d be ready to go again in minutes, of that he was sure. That month off sex had really shaken him. He needed this, a reminder that he was a man meant to breed. Now that he’d gotten off on his latest conquest, he knew there was a whole world out there just waiting to be conquered.