Hotload84

I copied this from bugshare.org - Sluttydogboy is the poster. Hope it was okay to copy it.

This true story happened about 7 years ago. I had just started getting fucked by guys and it was always with a condom. One night, I started talking to a dom top on gay.com chat. I am 100% submissive and was enjoying talking to a dominant top. After several minutes, we talked about what he was into. He mentioned that he liked using a sub's mouth and ass. There was one catch, though. He never used condoms. This scared me and excited me at the same time. We talked for the next several days and, each time, he talked about how he only fucked bareback. He pointed me to a couple of bareback websites and those sites got me even hotter. I jerked off many times to those sites and thinking about getting fucked bare. Finally, after talking for a few more days, we talked about hooking up. I told him that I was interested but was scared about getting fucked since he only fucked bareback. He told me that I could just come over and suck him off and swallow his load. I agreed and drove over to his place. I was literally shaking when I got to his front door. I knocked and he invited me in. Immediately, he took control. He told me to strip and get on my knees. I quickly stripped and knelt as he requested. He pulled his pants down and put his quickly growing cock into my mouth. He put his hand on the back of my head and started using my mouth. It was so hot. After a few minutes, he told me to stop sucking and follow him into the bedroom. I followed him and he took off the rest of his clothes. He lay back on the bed and told me to start sucking him again. I started worshipping his cock striving to please him. I would lick around the head and then take his cock in my mouth and take it as deep as I could. I couldn't quite deep throat him, but he helped by putting his hand on the back of my head and pushing my head down. I gagged but that didn't stop him from continuing to use my mouth. It was incredibly hot! Finally, he said he wanted his balls licked. I stopped sucking him and moved down to lick his balls. I ran my tongue all over his balls. He told me to go lower - underneath his balls. I started running my tongue under his balls and really started moaning loudly. Finally, he said "I've had enough sucking. I am going to fuck you now." "Yes Sir" was all that I could reply. He had me get up and follow him over towards a chair. He told me to bend over the chair and hold my hands out. I did as I was told. He pulled some rope out from under the bed and quickly tied up my hands. Next, he tied the rope around a nearby pole. Now, I was naked, bent over the chair with no way of getting away. I knew he was going to fuck me and that he would be fucking me bare. I was nervous and excited at the same time. All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind - "Am I ready to get fucked bare? He told me that he was negative, but is he lying? He is going to cum in me no matter what. What can I do about it now? Nothing! Do I want him to start? NO! I want his bare cock and take his load!" While all of those thoughts were going through my mind, I felt his hard cock rubbing up and down my crack. Then, he stopped at my tight hole. I felt him squirt some lube on my hole and his cock was quickly placed back at the entrance. All of my thoughts changed to a single thought "I am about to get fucked bareback and I can't wait!" He started pushing his cock into my hole. Since I had only been fucked a few times, it hurt going in. I didn't care. All I knew was that I needed his hard bare cock in my hole. He kept pushing in until his cock was totally in my tight hole. He held it there for a few moments giving me a chance to adjust. Then he started slowly fucking me. He continued to thrust harder and faster. I was in heaven. I was finally getting fucked BARE and there was nothing I could do to stop it (not that I wanted to anyway!) Then he started talking to me - saying how he liked my tight hole and that he was going to breed me soon. He grabbed my hips tight and then groaned loudly and pushed hard. I was so fucking turned on - he was cumming in me. I was taking my first load! He kept thrusting making sure that he got his load deep. He held his cock in me for a few minutes to make sure I got every drop of his load. He pulled out and told me "You just took your first load. Did you enjoy it?" "Yes Sir. Thank you for giving me your load, Sir." We talked for a minute and then he had me get dressed. I put my clothes on and left. I had to run errands and I could feel his load in me the rest of the day. It was a near-perfect way to get bred the first time! That was about 7 years ago and I have never been fucked with a condom since. I only get fucked BARE and take all loads.

I've moved this story to the Chem Sex Fiction section because, even if the chem part is fairly tangential, the desire for a bump seems to motivate the Tweeker's acquiescent to his Daddy's debauchery. I seem to recall an article in one of the weekly newspapers here in Philadelphia discussing the interface of drug-use and HIV transmission. This story would seem to follow suit.

Nice story. Reminds me of an experience I had at the Midtowne on Santa Monica Blvd. in LA about 15 years ago. The top was an expert at getting my ass to open-up. I wish I had invited him to drop his load in my hole, but back then I was still straddling the fence, so to speak, wanting bareback sex, and yet also wanting to avoid infection, so after a few minutes of pleasure I extracted myself from his cock. In any event, I moved the story to General Bareback Sex Stories as there does not seem to be a bug-element in the experience.

I'm fairly sure the title is Art of Living, written by Rosenbaum/Kingsley, published by Bourne Music Publishers. I've ordered a copy - we'll see if I'm correct.

I've merged these two stories because the version posted by Rawtop appears to be based on the RawPozLust's version.

I've long subscribed to the view that one's talent at recovering from errors is more important than avoiding errors.

Good story, Caco3rock. I've moved it to the Bug Chasing & Gift Giving FICTION section because the poz element is strong, albeit conjectural.

Excellent tale, RawPozLust. I'm almost glad I live in the Northeastern Corridor - otherwise I'd spend too much time in Berkeley hoping to hook-up with you.

Nope. I had eight siblings, three boys, and five sisters. I didn't like my brothers and did my best to avoid them, and my sisters? No way! Our cousins, aunts and uncles were largely unknown to us, so they barely entered into my consciousness. I do remember occasionally seeing my Dad's dick, and wanting to get a good view of it, but circumstance never permitted.

Years ago, when I was in high school, I sang with the high school choir, and among the works we performed was a song (the title escapes me) the opening verse was something like "The maze of me - a seamless web of pain and join contrived, made by me, to puzzle me, to bury me alive." The voices moved in fifths, shifting into fourths, and then resolving into fifths. The tenor of the music was exquisite, albeit hollow. I suspect the fistee in TheBreeder's blog posting, wearing a tattoo of the word Conundrum, would relish the paradox implicit in the music.

The hairier the better, but I don't think I've declined for want of the same.

While I'm not sure expressly what lies attributed to the Pope bottomcub85 is referring to, I certainly can understand the voice of cynicism. The hierarchy of the Church has gone to great lengths to alienate great numbers of its traditional membership, let alone those on the outside. I recall a remark a friend made several years ago to the effect that the Church's stances on many, many issues would ultimately induce virtually all to regard the organization as irrelevant. Every time I see the Church withdraw, in the name of apparent inflexibility, from another of its traditional areas of focus (I'm thinking of the adoption business, in particular), my friend's prognostication comes back with a vengeance. Schools that fire out lesbians and gays or refuse to accept the children of same-sex couples are a sign the Church will be ultimately be forced to withdraw from much of the education arena. Twenty centuries down the drain for failure to adapt.

This article from the NY Times touches on several points of controversy in which the Church has found itself embroiled. The Holy Father's comment about male prostitutes and condom use is commonsense, and, like many other commonsense statements, merely in keeping with what priests, religious, sisters and brothers on the street have been saying for years. I, for one, have never spoken with a priest who took a mono-dimensional view of human sexuality. Doubtless such priests exist, but I dare say many, if not most of them, are grand-standing, mostly for the benefit of their colleagues. Of course the arch-conservatives are already back-pedaling, trying to redefine what the Pope said. After all, God forbid the individual should be challenged to interpret his life experiences by his own intellect. Much better to goose-step in accordance with a very flawed ecclesiastical hierarchy. Every time I hear a clergyman preach about infallibility (whether that of the Pope or the bishops speaking as a whole) I recall how many times the Gospels report Jesus bitch-slapped St. Peter. I find it no less interesting that, apparently, St. Peter's stances shifted on occasion as a consequence of superior argument. And that was merely in the context of his life - he was martyred around 67 AD. How many more times the papacy has shifted its position as circumstances evolved. Are we looking at another such shift? We'll see. Was the Pope motivated by a new-found sense of humility? After all, he has been bitch-slapped (and arguably reasonably so) a great deal during his relatively short reign. Or did the reporter simply ask the right question? I understand his question was something like this: "Isn't it madness to argue against condom use under the following examples?" The examples centered on instances where condom use was clearly serving to preserve life, rather than those circumstances which the Church argues such use serve to intervene in the transmission of life. I hope I can find a transcript of the interview.

Thanks, Poztony. It's a well written story. I think this was one of the stories that was lost when bugshare.net imploded. If memory serves correctly, I think there was a sequel. If so, do you have it, and could you post it?

These are hot stories. I've merged them as one is apparently based on the other. My guess is the posting by Rawtop is the newer of the two versions, basing this guess on the use of the acronym OMG. Certainly the phrase Oh my God has been in use for centuries, but the acronym, OMG, was, to the best of my knowledge, born of of SMS and text messaging.

You could not be more correct, Rawtop. I've never understood why the two facilities in Philadelphia are so 'modest' (to be kind). I've long thought the Club Body Center, which is a series of two or three rowhouses that were internally merged, needs to be gutted and completely reconstructed. Although the management has been gradually making improvements to the facility, the improvements tend to be superficial (floors and staircases resurfaced, paint and paper), and don't address the fact that the underlying buildings are rowhouses. The Sansom Street Gym, although a clean and relatively new facility, is primitive compared with, for example, the Steamworks in Chicago. I have no idea what ROI the facilities could support were they more upscale, but it's reasonable to assume a population of 5.8 million in metropolitan Philadelphia could support a better facility. Hell - Pittsburgh, with a metropolitan population of about 1.7 million, has a better bath house than Philadelphia. The bath houses in Washington, (metropolitan area population 5.4 million) and NYC (metropolitan population 18.2 million) are not markedly better facilities than those in Philadelphia.

Nope. Can't imagine why I'd want to, but the other day I was at a brunch with six of the boys and the same question arose. The ages of the attendees ran from about 70 to about 40. Several of the guys were fairly feminine in their deportment. Yet I was the only one who answered in the negative. One never knows.

Once a year, on Holy Thursday, the Mass contains a ritual in which the Catholic priest washes the feet of pre-selected members of the parish. This is done in recollection of the episode in John 13:2-10 when, at the conclusion of the Last Supper, Jesus washes the feet of His disciples. This is generally a world-wide practice - even the Pope himself does it. I can't imagine Father Larry was not, at some level, thinking about this ritual while ministering to TheBreeder's feet. Curious.

Do you smoke? Do you do drugs? Do you drive too fast? Life is only worth living if you take risks. Someone mistakenly sent me an e-mail thinking my stories were about conversion. They're not. It's about the risk I choose to take and the risks others take or, in their stupidity or the heat of the moment, they indulge in what they really want, at some subconscious level. Man is an animal, pure and simple. Of course, the hunting and gathering occurs at your local market rather than caves and fields, but really what we desire as red-blooded men is to spread our seed. And we want human contact. Think of the act of fucking, pushing that rock hard (or at least MINE is rock hard) into the soft, warm, enveloping embrace of that ass chute. In the most intimate moment, we put a barrier we believe that will protect us from a microscopic entity or two. Maybe you're health conscious. Maybe you don't add sweetener in the pink packet for fear of cancer. Maybe you pay your taxes, drive at safe speeds, always use your turn signal and look both ways before crossing the street where a maniac with C4 explosives tied to his chest decides to proclaim holy jihad on your unsuspecting ass. An ass that has never felt the warmth of another man deep inside it. Take Bryan, for instance. He's a 32-year-old strawberry blond who chatted me up. I find it interesting, the 'mostly top' guys out there who, with a little rim job, flip over for it. Truth be know, Bryan didn't flip over. He just ground down until my cock was deep inside his ass. Bryan's lived a safe life. He has barely kissed another man in the past six years after his last bottom boyfriend left him to be a top. I don't think it was the pain of the break up as much as the fear of what he'd been exposed to. But 12 tests since, he'd only ended up with a case of crabs that he probably picked-up in the gym. Bryan's sex life, up until me, was online free porn samples. In his suburban loft apartment using a slightly out-of-date laptop, Bryan had whacked off to everything. Then he found a barebacking site. "I've never cum so much in my life," he types to me. "What does it feel like?" I chuckled. Another innocent about to be exposed to the reality of the world. "Beyond heaven," I respond. Well, a couple of days later, I am shaking Bryan's hand and entering his apartment, as he offers me a drink. A beer, of course, is my drink of choice. Bryan, instead, indulges in something more heavy, probably to loosen up. Now, I must say, Bryan had informed me that sex was out of the question. But I'd brought him this far in our conversations. I was going to take him all the way. The small talk proceeded with my usual wit and charm on high intensity, feeling the man out and getting his groove. After a while, he relaxed. Probably partially from the booze, but more likely cause, despite the charm, I hadn't made a move in his direction. This is a classic move. Patient people can do it. Hell, I wouldn't have moved in for the kill if I wasn't certain my mission couldn't be accomplished. That mission was cock in ass, sperm in ass -- mission success. So after dinner at a local swanky place and bit of wine, Bryan's strawberry was beginning to blossom into a cherry I was going to bust. "Have you tried poppers?" I ask him partially into a sex conversation Bryan had initiated himself. "Never," he says. "I heard they were bad." "Who told you that?" I asked. "People say," he responds, but his voice seems to trail off. "Well, the drug in poppers was originally developed to help people with heart problems," I try to sound official. Someone had mentioned that, but I could never really be sure if it's true or not. "Really?" he seems sincerely interested. He's not feigning anything. I reached into my pocket to extract a small brown bottle. "Yup," I say. "Seriously, you won't believe what it feels like." "Why?" he says. "What does it feel like?" "Imagine if everything happening to you is all you experience," I explain, making poppers sound more like a religious experience than a rush to head. "Imagine if there's no tomorrow, no yesterday, no two minutes from now and no this morning. Imagine if everything, every fiber of your being, is focused on the pinprick of the moment." He looks at me wide eyed, finally muttering, "Wow." I present the bottle, saying "The good news is that the effect of the poppers lasts just a few minutes." "But people talk about headaches," he begins. "Got some aspirin?" I ask. "I do," he responds. "More likely Advil or something. Need some?" "No, but if you get a headache, take some." I do a snort, not a deep one, and hand it to him. He's hesistant, but I knew the curiosity would get to him. Not long and he's madly kissing me. "Damn, I like that," he says. I smile: "I knew you would." After 20 minutes or so of making out, our clothes are off and we're writhing around on the couch. Pretty soon, I am in position to begin kissing his ass -- literally. I am working my tongue in and he's moaning like the bitch-in-heat he is. And that's when it happens. Sitting on the sofa, he climbs onto my lap and begins to kiss me. My cockhead touches gold, but I just leave it firmly against the hole when I pull away, snort a little and hand the bottle to him. He does a deep smell and relaxes so my cock head slips in. He begins to pull off right as the poppers kick into high gear and he begins to moan. The cock goes in deeper and deeper until he's completely sitting on my cock. In his ass. Raw. "I should get a condom," he says, as he rides my cock. I want to tell him it's a little too late for that, but I don't. Part of the charm. "Sure," I say. "Okay." But I just sit there and he continues to ride it. "It sure feels good," he says. "It sure as hell does." He's not a regular bottom or even a natural one. The hole is friggin' tight and I know his endurance is going to be minimal. So I begin to pump with his motion, entering him as deep as possible. We fuck like this for a few minutes, his eyes closed, not looking at me or acknowledging there's a raw cock in his ass. I hand him the poppers for another huff. He takes it. "I'm close," he says. "Me too," and I am. "AWWW..." he's moaning. "Would you...?" "What?" I say breathlessly as I take the poppers from his hand and snort some. "Would you cum? Now?" "Yessssssssssss" I say, as the high hits me. I let the cock throb and I release my load into his hole. He's letting out something close to a gutteral scream when his cock suddenly stands upright and the red head flairs. It looks almost like a cartoon snake spitting white stuff into the air that, like some obscene fountain, shoots up in an arc and lands just left of my chin. Three or four more spurts follow, all at a diminishing force, landing on my chest. There's a copious amount of spooge on my chest as he comes off my cock immediately, stands and walks away. The guilt of barebacking hits him. He runs to the bathroom, probably to try and flush out all the baby batter I've deposited into him. A few awkward moments later, I am on my way home. A few days later, he chats me up on-line for good barebacking videos. A few days after that, he calls and chats about nothing. A few days after that, he invites me over. The only thing I've converted is a man into fucking the way it should be.