1981virginia

RawTOP- I've been a reader and fan for a LONG time. You're an inspiration.

Last summer in New York was particularly toasty warm, making the small apartment I shared with my boyfriend practically unbearable. Any chance to get outside was welcomed. One weekend, my boyfriend and I took advantage of a sticky humid day to go sit in Central Park, him to soak up a few rays, and me to sit in the shade and catch up on some reading. After a few hours of that, I got hungry, and my boy got a bit burned. He came over to join me in the shade, and I lotioned his back a bit, noticing the eyes of a few real cuties looking in our direction, not sure if they were jealous of me or of him. Anyway, I offered to go to a cart and get some hot dogs, then scrounge for some beer from a Mexican walking with a cooler around the Meadow. I headed off in search of something that would pass for lunch, and it took a while. When I got back to the blanket, my other half was gone. Maybe he had to pee or something, but how strange to have left our blanket unattended. I got a little freaked out, then calmed when I saw that his sandals were still there. I thought, “Well, he can’t have gone far…” I waited for a few minutes, chugging a 40 oz. of some cheap swill. He was nowhere to be seen. I tried his cell, and it rang and rang. I left a message. I was a bit worried, but also hot from the day, and thirsty. I noticed too that some of the cuties who had been sitting around were gone. Guess they hot and thirsty too. Hmmm… So, I cracked open the second of four bottles and chugged away. Still no boyfriend. Fifteen minutes later, I was bored by the lack of hot shirtless guys around, and had to piss like a racehorse. I figured I should head to the filthy smelly men’s’ room at the north end of the Meadow. I thought about gathering up what was left of our stuff, but thought, what the hell, if no one stole our blanket and his shoes earlier, they won’t now. I headed to the public toilet. I walked in to see a short line near one of the stalls and heard someone having a helluva good time in there. Some lucky queens were having a blast in that stall, and it looked like the guys in line were waiting for a piece of the action. I headed to one of the urinals, but found it hard to pee, since I was getting a stiffy listening to some sweet action going on. The stiffy turned into a full hard-on when I heard a guy leaving say, “Yeah, he’s real cute, and takin’ all loads.” I breathed deeply, then texted my boy, telling him to get to the bathroom if he wanted to hear some hot shit going down. Seconds later, my heart stopped when I heard a familiar tone, “All the Single Ladies,” go off from a phone from the corner of line at the stall. I hadn’t seen my boy in line, and couldn’t imagine him in a line of tops waiting to tag some anonymous ass. He’s a total bottom. Then I realized. Shit. He’s in there. He’s the bottom. Fuck. My boy and I have a sort of agreement. We don’t play outside of the relationship, much. But, when we do, we play safe, and we tell each other. How could he have just headed to the toilet to take loads from strangers? What the fuck? I thought I was the only one loading that sweet ass. Damn. I heard more grunts and groans, knowing the sound of an orgasm. Some fucker was loading my boy’s ass. Shit. The risk of taking loads at all from strangers, let alone a line of them. And in midafternoon. New York homos can be some sick fucks. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to shake out a drop of piss at this point, so I zipped up and headed over to the line of filthy tops hoping to pound some stranger’s ass. Thinking about it, my boy must have taken at least two loads in the time I had been in the toilet. Then the line, five guys in front of me, all of them hard through their shorts, some feeling up each others’ dicks, then the closed door. Two of the guys at the front of the line I recognized as cuties from earlier in the Park. The first two guys were speaking French to each other, maybe a couple? Then, a nasty fat slob of a fucker, next a skinny guy who looked sort of wasted away. Meth head? Poz? Who the fuck knows. Then me. These shitheads were going to get a turn at an ass that was rightly mine, all mine. He told me that I was the only one he let fuck him raw. Liar. Fucking liar. I was angry, confused, and completely turned on. I heard another guy blast off, and the door opened. I instantly saw my boy’s ass, his body facing away from me, with a load dripping down his honey-colored thighs. By all rights, that should have been my load. I knew he could get into some freaky shit, and I had fucked him raw in semi-public places before, but he’d never just let a line of guys queue up and take him, at least not to my knowledge. Anyway, the cutie couple from before went in, and closed the stall door. It had to be close quarters in there. Some grunting, then my boy’s sighing as someone plowed him good. One guy got off quickly, and if the cum trickling down his thighs was any hint of things to come, my boy didn’t make him wrap up or pull out. I was freaking out. The next grunt of orgasm came quickly thereafter. I figured the next guy must have cum in his mouth. There wasn’t room or time to have repositioned. Next, I heard the sound of two zippers, my boy meekly saying “Thanks,” then the stall opened again. I lunged forward to try to get a glimpse, but the fatty, and the sicko looking guy beat me to the punch. I couldn’t see more than some ass, and more cum-slicked legs. The fatty headed in, but only lasted about forty-five seconds. He was a squealer, and I worried that his noise would draw too much attention. But no one seemed to mind. I got the feeling that the fatty hadn’t cum in an ass in a long time. I hated him. The door opened. It was just Sicko and me. The skinny fucker smiled at me and asked if I wanted to share him. “Want to tag his ass together?” I thought, “Shit, if he’s poz, I don’t want his dick in my boy’s ass. But it would fucking serve him right.” The thought of seeing my boy take not only a stranger’s load, but potentially a poz one got me even more boned than I had been. I said, “Sure.” He asked casually, “Wanna load him up first?” “Yeah,” I replied. The fatty squeezed past us, making his escape, all disheveled and sweaty. Sicko went in first, undoing his shorts and shoving his hard sticky uncut cock into my boy’s hungry mouth. My boy never saw me. I was shaking I was so nervous. His ass was more stretched out than I had ever seen it, red from abuse, and maybe just bit pink. Was he bleeding from back there? Had he been roughed up by one of these assholes, maybe one of the couple who had seen who was next in line? I unzipped again, my cock rock hard and totally slick with precum. I didn’t need it though; a truck could have gone up there he was so loose, used, and sloppy. I sunk it in all the way on the first plunge and only managed a few strokes before I blasted off inside, adding my load to an unknown number that was already there. When I pulled out, he murmured, “Thanks, I needed that.” He pushed out a bit, and an absurd about of jizz gushed out of his loose pucker, all over his ass and my cock. Sicko pulled him up, kissed him rough, and asked, “Are you sure you want my load? It might be the dirtiest one you’ve taken yet…” My boy didn’t answer. He simply shimmied himself around, offering up his ass to Sicko, with his eyes closed, grabbing for my spent cock, gorging himself on my, and others’, frothy cum all over my cock. I came again, instantly, in his mouth. He swallowed it down like a champ as Sicko rammed it home in my boy’s sloppy pussy. My throat ran dry. I wanted to scream out, “STOP!!!!,” but I was mute. Sicko’s eyes bulged, and he shoved his nasty slimy sick cock in to the hilt, and after a few thrusts, cumming deep inside my boy. Still inside him, Sicko leaned forward and whispered into my boy’s ear, “Did you like that? You like my hot dirty cum in your ass?” “Fuck yeah…” My boy then opened his eyes, and looked up. I froze. We made eye contact for a split second, then I pulled away, physically ill, shoved my leaking cock back into my shorts, and heaved myself out of the stall. More guys were standing there, maybe six or seven. I was dizzy. What the fuck had I just done, or allowed to be done. I ambled out of the toilet and threw up in the bushes outside. I was crying. I found a our spot on the grass and sat there, waiting, for what seemed like forever. No sign of my boy. It may have only been a few minutes, or an hour, or three, but I totally zoned out. I wasn’t feeling good at all. Still in tears, I abandoned our blanket and his sandals and raced to the edge of the Park and caught a cab uptown, back to the scorching hot apartment that I shared with my boy. I took off all of my clothes and took a long cold shower, still crying. I wondered, “Where the fuck is he?” I cooled off, stopped crying, and headed to bed. By now the sun had long set, the Park was closed, and I figured that he must be home soon. Eventually, I fell asleep, alone. At some point in the middle of the night, he came home, shoeless. He told me that he took a few more loads in the Park before someone called security. He later went to a party with Sicko and took some more loads, possibly poz ones. I was disgusted and horrified, but got hard again. He asked me to fuck him one more time that night. I was sickened, but completely turned on. I told him that things would never be the same between us again. He simply nodded, perhaps smiling a little. I fucked him one last time that night, lubed up by the cum of countless strangers, cumming inside, adding my load to more than I cared to count. As I pulled out he said to me, “I hope one of those charged loads took. I’m glad you were there.” I had to go to the bathroom and hurl again. The next day, it was like nothing had ever happened. I suggested that he go get tested. “Why?” he asked. I balked. Later that week, without any more suggestion, he did go get tested. Neg. I fucked him with a rubber for the next three months. He got tested again. Still neg. We haven’t been back to the Park together since, and haven’t talked about it. I’ve never asked what happened to get him into that stall taking loads. To my knowledge, he hasn’t slept with anyone, raw or otherwise else since then. Or maybe he just hasn’t told me about it. Maybe he got it out of his system. Of maybe it unleashed something. Either way, I sort of hope next summer is as hot as this last one.