Bbdude78

Not sure if this is what you<re referring to, but do a search on Fb for: Illuminaughty Play Parties. It a group that organizes private sex parties for gay men in Ottawa, at rented venues. They've hosted a few parties so far. I'm a member, although I havent been to any of their parties yet. But I've heard good things about them.

French Canadian here. Catholic background. Large families. And definitely uncut, (most of) the whole lot of us. The one exception being my brother. He was circumcized at birth for medical reasons. The doctor called it: his foreskin was so tight, it would be difficult & painful to pull down, so there was definitely going to be actual hygiene and sexual health issues down the road. But back in '72, they didn't use anesthetics on babes. So they knocked my newborn brother out with a shot of whisky and cut him right then and there. lol. 

But my dad has a glorious slab of long, thick, uncut veiny meat, and I'm happy I resemble him in that department (well, aesthetically speaking. He got me beat on size. lol)

On 7/10/2023 at 1:40 AM, Bokkierob said:

I'm cut but my dad is uncut - he's got a real handsome cock -  wide girth, heavily veined with a big thick foreskin. looks great when soft but amazing when he's hard

"...amazing when he's hard." eh? Do tell... 😉

Yeah, I'm with you on the fact that it's bonkers.

I mean, assuming we agree that stealthing = rape, because the victim did not consent to unprotected sex, and you still went for unprotected sex without their knowledge or consent = no consent = rape, then my question would be: why not align the max penalty for stealthing with the max penalty for rape? A quick google search reveals that the maximum penalty for assault with intent to commit rape in Australia is 14 years imprisonment. 

And then of course you could have aggravating factors that would make the penalty longer, such as knowingly / willingly transmitting an STI.

But yeah, going for a "max life" penalty does seems disproportionate.

also 10 out of 10 for me. 

Only ever did a cousin of mine. I was his first. He was 19, I was 29. I taught him all about gay sex. We had fun on and off for about 5-6 years. He's bi. Our fun ended when he found his gf, the now mother of his two kids. But he's out with her. He told me she knows he's bi, and she knows him and I played around, and she's fine with it. I suspect they're swingers. They seem happy, so that's all that matters. But I still miss sucking that nice thick dick of his. 

On 2/15/2018 at 3:26 AM, HangryStarfish said:

I can't decide if this is a legitimate request for perspective and knowledge or if it's bait to start what would very easily descend into a very heated argument over stigma and semantics. "Was it worth it?" Was what worth it? Are you asking about the initial transmission of HIV or are you asking if not seeking treatment and allowing HIV to progress unhindered to the point where an AIDS diagnosis is given? Either way, I know I personally wasn't gambling the pleasure of a particular situation against the risk of contracting HIV, and my decision to stop taking antiretroviral therapy was a conscious one made after much deliberation and with full understanding that AIDS was an inevitability if I continued to abstain from meds. 

It was three-and-a-half months after my 18th birthday that I started dating the man who, as I came to discover much later, intentionally gave me the virus without my knowledge. In the spring of 1993, having enlisted in the US Navy and tested into the nuclear program, I received a call back to MEPC to speak with the Chief Medical Officer, who relayed to me that my tests had come back positive for the HIV virus, and as such, my oath and enlistment were revoked. He told me I wasn't eligible to serve because active military personnel must be able to donate blood to other soldiers or to civilians in times of war. By the time I tracked down my (by then) ex-boyfriend, he had infected 11 other young men and had committed suicide rather than endure the pain of a slow death from AIDS complications.  

I was surreptitiously infected with HIV so long ago that I have lived more years with the virus than I'd lived without it. All of the important little psychological finishing touches that happen as adolescent males become mature into fully grown adults were shaped by the stigma and shame surrounding my diagnosis. Fast forward 25 years, past two failed suicide attempts and the deaths of most of the friends and acquaintances I'd known from back then. Perhaps you can understand the state of mind I was in when I decided one day to stop taking HIV meds and just let the virus do what it would until the end finally came. An end, I might mention, that I'd been anticipating for most of those 25 years, coming to terms time and time again with the eventual reality of a death much like the agonizing, humiliating one you describe in your post. When you've had that long to ponder such an end, even trying twice to beat Death to the punch, the concept of dying becomes much less frightening.  

Last January (2017), I had been off of all HIV medications for 4 years. An unfortunate run in with the flu motivated me to visit an Urgent Care, where they discovered my CD4 count was down to only 30. Soon thereafter I developed a case of thrush, which led to another visit with a doctor for the necessary prescription. Thiat time I walked out with an AIDS diagnosis on my medical record and a lengthy scolding from a particularly insightful Infectious Diseases specialist. I wasn't in any pain. I led a normal, active life and had no issues with mobility or cognition. I fed myself maybe too well and never had trouble drinking. Looking at me, no one would have considered it even possible that I had AIDS. But I did.

It was in May of last year that I decided I wasn't ready anymore to let the virus have me. I wasn't done with life. There were things I still wanted to do. So I got back on meds and started to rebuild my immune system. It took me being vigilant in taking my medicine every single day for over 7 months to finally get my CD4 count back above the 200 cell threshold, even though the viral load immediately went undetectable. 

Was what worth it? Considering the fact that I'm no better or worse off today than that naive 19-year-old boy was back in 1993 when he was first diagnosed, I'm having trouble framing the context of your question. Has the stigma beat the shit out of my confidence and self-esteem over the past two-and-a-half decades? You bet your ass it has, at every turn and from every direction. Has the virus won? Not yet, that motherfucker hasn't. I control the virus now, not the other way around. And I'm past the point where ignorance and fear in other folks' reactions can bruise or batter my sense of self-worth. Those ugly flaws are now reflections of their value, not mine. I'm happy to educate and always forthcoming about my status with every potential sex partner I meet. I can't even pass up an oddly worded post in an online discussion forum without taking the time to address the topic of HIV/AIDS. ;-P

Everything you said read as a fucking epic ode to life. Kudos, man. This is raw, powerful, intense, and beautiful.

I've been taking loads for years now, and I'm still neg. And those loads were from mostly undetectable guys, or detectable guys with a low viral load (a few hundred). I feel 100% secure knowing that an undetectable load will not convert me. Which is why I find them boring now (sorry medicated guys, no offence. You can still fill me up, not a problem. lol)