layedback

Don't know that it made my sex drive increase, but it did make me horny as fuck to top. I'm usually happier as a catcher, but my dick started itching like crazy to unload in holes once I knew my seed was charged.

curiousaboutbb, out of my own curiosity, was the clinic you visited called "Choices" on Poplar Avenue and is the gay PCP's first name "Martin"?

I agree. It's not a walk in the park, but HIV is manageable like any longterm illness. And there are so many advances in medicine and technology every day, I wouldn't be surprised if HIV is cured, or at least greatly diminished in our lifetime. As wood wrote, you can expect to live a long, fulfilling life just so long as you take your medicine, eat healthy, and get plenty of sleep and exercise. It will require vigilance and responsibility on your part, but YOU CAN DO IT. Your diagnosis is fresh; it's understandable that you're overwhelmed and frightened, but help is available for you if you ask. I too suggest you seek professional help, some type of counseling in an agency or environment in which you feel safe comfortable. Life is what you make of it. You're not a victim, and your situation isn't hopeless. You've gotta stand up and fight and surround yourself with people who have your back. I'd also like to add that there's no shame in the feelings you had. We all get desperate sometimes and think horrible things. But it's a good sign that you know you don't want to die and recognize how destructive those thoughts are. Honestly, until you get this under control, you really shouldn't drink or take any substances that alter your consciousness. With your depression and the ambivalence you feel about your condition, substances and depression can be a lethal combination.

I started barebacking in the early 90s when HIV was considered a death sentence. I hadn't given unsafe sex much thought because in my world it simply wasn't done. But I fell in love with a guy, and we moved in together, and one night we became so consumed in passion that he just started fucking me without a rubber. He asked if I trusted him. I did. In retrospect, I was woefully naive, but I was also in lust, and lust generally trumps reason every time. It ended up being one of the hottest fucks of my life. I got so caught up in the sensation of his hot, hard, slippery cock in me, that at that moment, I probably wouldn't have cared about his status. When he began to ejaculate those thick warm ribbons of semen in my guts, I clamped my ass muscles as tight as I could to milk every last drop. It was so fucking incredible. I knew it's what my ass was meant for. From that point on, we fucked bare every time. A couple of years later, after we broke up, it was time to get back in the saddle so to speak. I knew that I wanted to keep riding bareback. The feeling of a guy's cum in my ass had become addictive. Not only was safe sex no longer interesting, it was in many cases an enormous turn-off. Once again, I let my physical desires overrule my reason. However, I became painfully selective about the guys I'd let fuck me. I didn't want disease, any disease, and figured that if I hedged my bets, I'd be able to have fun and stay clean. And, I did. In the late 1990s I went back to college for another degree. I didn't have a computer yet, so I had to complete work in a communal lab on campus. One night I went in very late to work. The guy who'd been at the terminal before me didn't log off. I peeked at his history and found a Yahoo group that was something like DFW Chasers. It was dedicated to bug chasers in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. I'd never heard that term before and decided to investigate. Well, the posts I read on that site about guys going out to local saunas and bare fucking any willing stranger turned me on like crazy. Sitting there in the lab surfing this shit, my dick started twitching and was rock-hard in no time. I bought a personal computer and began to seek out similar sites and stories. One guy I met online sent me something called the Bareback Bible, which was filled with erotic fiction about getting bred by known poz fuckers. I started jerking off to it every day. Pretty soon, I found barebacksex.com and created a profile in my home city. I had totally eroticized bare, bug sex. Of course, I was scared to death. I found my feelings alternately intoxicating and repugnant. So, for a while it remained strictly fantasy. How did I cross the line? Well, like any addiction, once you've reached the apex of one and can't go any farther, you need something new and better. In good time, just jerking off to fiction, however well written, wasn't enough. I wanted, no...I desperately NEEDED to experience it first-hand. A short time later I had two friends die within a month of one another. Both were unexpected: a suicide and an accident. I really began to think about my own life. I was in my late 30s, existing in a very safe, ordered, comfortable little life, yet not really LIVING. Not feeling and enjoying all of the darker pleasures I secretly desired. And I finally came to the realization that I would be far happier living a shorter life pursuing my desires than to live a long, safe one in which I had to suppress my baser instincts. I went online and hooked up with a guy who claimed to be negative, but I knew of him from acquaintances, and the word out was that he was poz and had actually knocked up a former boyfriend. I remember driving to his house and thinking a million times that I should just turn around, go home, and and try to stop thinking the thoughts which seemed to possess me. But, I didn't turn around. I kept going. I knew what I wanted, and I couldn't deny any longer that I wanted it more than anything else in the world. My head was spinning when he pushed me down on the bed and started undressing me. I was giddy from anticipation. I almost wanted to laugh I was so consumed with the excitement and the just the risk of letting this guy fuck me, not knowing for sure whether he was poz or not. This was a guy who wasn't even particularly attractive to me. If he'd been one of many in a bar and I was free to pick, he wouldn't have been anywhere near the top of my list. But now, here I was ass up on his bed, offering myself freely to him, feeling his cock slide in me... a cock that might knock me up with a potentially deadly virus, and I didn't care. I was drunk with lust. He fucked me six ways to Sunday, and after what seemed an eternity I was flipped face down, my head scrunched in a pillow while he had the full weight of his body on my back. His hands tightened around my wrists, his arms stretched out over me, making me helpless to stop him. He rocked his hips in a furious motion, grinding his dick into my hole. I could feel his body begin to tense and his cock spasm as he flooded my butt with cum. He lay on top me, grunting, with his cock still inside me . After a couple of minutes he asked if he could piss inside me, and I mumbled something along the lines of "fuck yeah." I vaguely remember driving home with my ass clenched, trying desperately to keep his piss and sperm from flowing out of me. I wondered if his virus was swimming in my blood stream, growing, multiplying, infecting every cell with the bug of a stranger. It was the most electrifying experience of my entire life. There was no regret, and at that moment no fear. I went for an HiV test three months later, and then again at six months. Both times I trembled waiting for the results. And when they both came back negative, I swore to myself that I'd never do anything like that again. It didn't take long to break that vow.

That's what my doc recommended for me. He called it the quad drug. It's a combo of several antivirals and has a drug that does something to slow down liver metabolism of the other the other drugs so they stay effective for a longer period. That's what I got out of the spiel. I think it was just approved by the FDA in the last year.

I say hot. I've got one, and I like 'em on other guys. I've always said that if I wanted a smooth body, I'd fuck a woman. When I'm with a guy, I want him to feel rough and coarse like a man. Stubble or coarse hair against my face turns me on like crazy, and I love to look in the mirror and see little white droplets of creamy jizz stuck in my fiery red goatee after I just sucked some guy's cock. Goateed guys can get anything they want from me.

Right. I've been saying it for 20 years, and yet every time, I'm right back at it again ready to let any cock load my hole and ready to dump mine in somebody else's. Funny how nature always triumphs over anything in its path.

Hell yeah! It's even hotter in point of actual fact. Just wait till you've got the weight of his hot sweaty body pinning you down and his cock is thrusting in and outta your hole like a jackhammer tearing up concrete. You hear his breathing become more labored and feel his strokes going faster. And when he erupts in you with animalistic moans and groans you'll grab his ass and beg him to pound that jizz in harder and deeper. That's why I like it missionary style best. Love to have a guy's hairy arms grab my legs, throw them over his shoulders, and hold them tight as he works that cock in and out of my ass. When he comes, that position has his cock going into me all the way to the hilt and depositing his seed as far into my guts as it will go. It's so fucking hot. Once you get it this way, you'll never want it nice and safe again, no matter what the risk.

Yep, I get a "maintenance" message, too.

I'm like you guys, too. After my trip to the Pacific Northwest, I was certain I'd finally converted, but then I tested neg again in October. I took the 23andme test RawTop told us about. I've been barebacking for over 20 years. I'm curious if I've got the protein deficiency that makes conversion less likely or if it's just been fate that I haven't been charged. I'm looking forward to the DNA results. In the meantime I'm just going to keep taking as many loads as I can get cause ultimately it's all about getting bred, whether I stay neg or not.