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.

Welcome, Chevycub. I'm in TN. Stealhing is when seed is covertly deposited in what appears to be a "safe" encounter. Example: the top (or bottom) has secretly compromised the rubber so that seed ends up being shot inside a guy's ass, or maybe the top starts off suited up and then slips it off while fucking.

I love this site and think you should do whatever it takes to keep it online. I don't pay attention to the ads anyway, so it makes no difference to me what they advertise. And, trust me, I don't need graphic ads to help me think about porn or fucking bareback!

Knowledge is power. You can have power over your health and sexuality. Nothing has to change because of that knowledge. You can be tested anonymously. You can test in the privacy of your own home if you wish. What you do or don't do with the knowledge is your business, but yeah, I think it's best to know and be able to make an informed choice.

They are very real and certainly physiologically possible. I can have them fairly easily and have done since my teens. I think of them less as assgasms and more like prostatic orgasms. Stimulation of the prostrate, which is anatomically similar to the G-spot in women, does produce multiple orgasms. These types of orgasms feel different than orgasm associated with penile stimulation and ejaculation. The great thing about prostatic orgasm is that there's no refractory period. You can have wave after wave of pleasure until you just can't take it anymore. For me though, it's much harder to achieve from getting fucked. But if the top knows what to do and how to do it, I can, and it's one of the most intense sex scenes ever.

I remember when I was 10 and taking baths. My grandma always told me not to play with my tally whacked, so that's exactly what I did first chance I got. I remember how good it felt to soap it up with Irish Spring. I used to fantasize about that hairy guy from the commercials. The first time I had an orgasm was fucking incredible. Suddenly I couldn't take enough baths. Then right before I turned 11, one night I was doing my nightly ritual and suddenly something shot out of my little dick. I thought I'd peed at first. The stuff was white and milky though, so I tasted it. From then on, when I'd beat off in bed, I just scooped the cum off my stomach and ate it then licked my fingers clean. It was easier than getting up and washing. I'm still a lazy bastard that way. Yeah, eat my own very day.

You've got 72 hours for PEP. If you're seriously freaking out and absolutely do not want to risk becoming infected, that's the way to go. Call your doc and say the rubber broke or whatever. It's really your safest bet. Otherwise, there are just too many variables, too many unknowns, for someone to really advise you what to do. The bottom line is: if you don't want to become poz, then don't bareback, because anything can go wrong at any time. I've been going raw over 20 years, and I'm still neg, but with some close calls. I know other guys who did it just one time, and that's all it took. I'm not trying to lecture you, but think about how well you can handle the consequences before you commit the act. And good luck with whatever outcome you want.

Fuck, that was seriously hot! Thanks for sharing. Oh, and, it won't be your last time either. Once you go raw, you never go back.

Yeah, well that was a figure of speech so to speak. I mean, I've known all along that one day I'll convert. And I made peace with that a long time ago. I just took it as an inevitability, because I wasn't gonna stop going raw. Once I went raw, I never looked back and never played safe again. So if I am poz, I won't really be surprised. But I admit that there's some ambivalence. I see good points and bad with both. One good thing is that once I seroconvert, I can only do it once, right. I mean there'll never be any more doubt like there is now. It's a pattern I've fallen into of having unsafe sex with multiple people and strangers and then freaking out eventually because I might've converted. Every time I didn't I decided that I'd NEVER do it again, lol. And every time I was right back in the saddle with some stranger inside me. At least if I'm poz now, I'll never go through that pattern again, and I'll be truly free to do the things I want to do. The only thing that scares me is getting sick. I don't handle that well. If I thought I could go on another 25 years or whatever and be relatively ok, then I'd be fine. It's just the unknown, the fact that I could get sick -really sick- now. I don't want that. I've never been a chaser in that respect. It's not that I want a virus that can hurt me; it's just that I want to party like it's still 1976, and there's no tomorrow. No matter what happens, there'll be no whining. It's all my own doing; I take full responsibility for myself and my actions. But, even if I test poz, I wouldn't go back and change anything. Thanks for all your responses. All of you. You pretty much said what I thought you would. Now it's just a matter of me taking the test.

Any of you poz guys have night sweats before you were diagnosed? I've been feeling like shit the last few days. Achey, feverish, sore balls. I woke up the last two nights dripping wet. I've never had night sweats before. Last time I tested I was neg, but that's been over a year ago, and I've hooked up recently with a guy who later told me he's poz. I've been barebacking well over a decade, dodging bullets. I'm wondering if my wet clothes are a symptom of luck running out?

Really? But don't you also recognize that if you're negative and want to stay that way, your health is your OWN responsibility? You should know that every time you have unprotected sex, you run the risk of contracting HIV. That is simply an undeniable fact, the same way that heterosexuals know that every time they have sex, there is a risk of pregnancy even if they're using birth control. I guess it's just the litigious nature of our society, but we truly have grown into a victimized culture where ridiculous laws have been created to protect people from their own stupidity. This sort of thing really pisses me off, and I have a big old fat zero degree of sympathy for adults who act like naive kids and subsequently blame somebody else for their own problems. For example, we all know that smoking greatly increases the risk of lung cancer, it's printed right on the package, but many longterm smokers still get sick and then try to sue tobacco companies. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that if you drink a fifth of vodka in 15 minutes and then get behind the wheel of a car, you risk having a fatal accident, yet some people will do just that and then blame Absolut for making the shit. \Now, if you get raped, if the sexual act is nonconsensual, it's a different story. But if you willingly lie down with some guy and don't use protection, as far as I'm concerned, the burden of responsibility is yours and no one else's. Like my grandma always said, "play with fire, expect to get burned some day." The last time I was tested, I was negative. I bareback exclusively. Not because I'm just dying to be poz, but because I crave having a guy's hot load in my guts. I don't even bother to ask staus any more, and I don't expect a guy to tell me his status. We're grown men. We all know the score, and this ain't our first time at the rodeo. I've accepted the fact that one day I will seroconvert, and when it happens, it's gonna be nobody's fault but my own. To answer MascMountainMan's question, stealthing is not cool with me. I personally wouldn't do it under any circumstances. I wouldn't lie about my staus either, because I'm not hung up on what others think of me. Since I'm not knowigly poz, I can't say whether or not I would volunteer the information before every fuck. I do agree that theoretically guys probably should always discuss status, but I disagree that they're automatically immoral if they don't. I definitely don't believe that not telling someone is automatically a sin of omission. I think it depends on the unique circumstances of the situation, but regardless, the bottom line is that people who want to stay negative shouldn't be barebacking.