Toon

My best (not my first) WS experience was with this giant top guy who liked to surprise me with sudden squirts of pee. In my beer, on my leg, on my bed. I miss him aot.

I once gave myself a friction blister after jerking off to a Jon Vincent video. I think you're fine. Treat your junk kindly for a bit.

2016 So I guess I'm one of those "smart" people who do dumb things. It drove my parents crazy when I was a kid. "You know better!", "Where was your head at??", etc. I made good grades and read at a college level ai the age of 11, but I still did stupid stuff all the time. Well, I'm in my 30's now and my parents are gone. I still hear them lecturing me about being smart every time I fuck up. Which is often. But maturity has given me a little perspective. I realize that no matter how I.Q. is, impulses and passion will always defeat thinking. I was on this website where you could meet guys for raw sex. No condoms. Guys with HIV. You could say that was pretty dumb to begin with, but I was so interested. Guys posted photo sets of themselves. Their dicks and gaping asses and such. I liked one guys photos a lot. He had an enormous boner and had a shot from every angle. In one of them. you could almost see his face --- but not quite. You could however to see that his hands we huge. I left on a comment on one of his photo submissions that basically expressed my admiration for his giant boner and his big hands. There was a profile to go with the pics, but all I remember about it was that he was in Europe, HIV+ and in Europe somewhere and really into devil worship. Lots of guys on that site seemed to be into that stuff, and I wondered if it was worth exploring. I'm an atheist, so believing in the devil made no more sense than believing in god. The next day I got an email from him. He basically wanted to tell me how ugly and worthless I was -- but he'd consider giving me his "gift" if I did a few things for him. Firstly, I had to shave my pubes and send him a pic, One of me soft, one of my dick hard. It didn't take long to shave my pubes because I'm honestly not the hairy. And he also wanted me to write him a "love letter"...detailing all my perverted needs and my allegiance to the devil. I sent a shaved dick photo, but I could never get one whee I was hard because my phone isn't that great, and the second I got a boner I would come. Hard to hold any kind of camera when your whole body is shaking. So I went straight to the love letter. My words came from the lustful part of my heart -- it was dirty. He never responded. I guess that had to be expected. He was overseas somewhere and most likely just messing with my head. I was new to the site ans wondered if I sent it to the wrong place. So I sent it again, but it went openly public to the group. Shit! Everybody could read my sicko fantasies! Well, Mr. Devil never got back to me, but plenty of local guys saw my message and contacted me. My favorite was "KinkySir". He and I emailed back and forth several times. He was 50 and bearded and heavy. I even managed to take a hard on pic for him. He was poz and had a great desire for converting a neg guy. He asked me lots of intimate questions and I answered them all. "You care that I'm 50?" "No" "I'm a smoker. Got a problem with that?" "Not at all." "I am almost 300 pounds. Can you handle that?" "Yes. I saw your pictures. I am fully on board". "If you want this poz dick, then unlock your door and wait. I'm about ten minutes away. Are you ready to die in ten short minutes?" "See you soon. Sir". "If this works out for me -- you can be my slave. Like that?" "Yes", I said without thinking too much. "Be naked when I get there or I'll beat the hell out of you". "Yes Sir. Drive carefully". "That's cute". (click) I looked around me. I had very little except the basics. I wasn't big on decorating or stuff like that. I DID have a nice TV, but my couch was kind of sad. I sprayed air freshener around a bit, and then took off everything except my underwear. No knock or doorbell ring -- he just lumbered in. Jeez! He was like Bluto from the Popeye cartoons. So much bigness and so much black beard. "You still got underwear on, slave. That will cost you". I was punched with a fist. I fell to the floor and thought my face was broken. Not smart. I knew then and there what my parents meant about not using my head. "OK. I'll take them off for you. Stay where you are. You won't be a good slave. I already know that, but I can still give you what's in my balls. Dumb ass". He fucked me with anger. I'd had a dick in me before --- but always with a condom. He was just so mad and aggressive. He pummeled me for almost 20 minutes before letting his poz juice shoot inside of my ass. His big, sweaty body rest on top of me for a few minutes. We kissed for awhile and then he left. I wasn't what he wanted, but he wanted a love letter just for him and no one else. I sent one. For every three I sent, he'd come over and fuck me. I got very good at writing them...even when I got a terrible flu a few weeks later.

1998 I've always known I was going to be a writer. My dream was to work for a newspaper, but as I graduated from college with a journalism degree, most newspapers were dying a slow death. The internet had pretty much dealt a deadly blow to the printed page. Maybe it was denial, but I was still hopeful that I could work for a major publication -- in a newsroom that smelled of ink. I was 23 and landed a job at the St. Louis Dispatch as a reporter. I wasn't real fond of the city (they tended to turn up their noses who weren't born there), but I loved the work environment. I didn't get to do much except pull stories from the A.P. wire and cover the stories nobody else was interested in. Other guys might have been bored, but I was content. I didn't even mind being the one to go pick up lunch orders. The old guys I worked with barely ever talked to me, but didn't seem to mind my presence. About three months into my job, I started hearing about how "The Wild Child" was in trouble again. I'd heard about him in bits and pieces, but didn't know the whole story. From bits ad pieces of conversation I'd overheard, The Wild Child was this guy who'd been found down in the Ozark woods somewhere. He either been brought up in the wild or found there with no adults around or something. He'd been sort of rehabilitated an relocated here to St. Louis. This was years ago and he was a grown man now...and always getting in trouble with the law. It seemed like everybody always knew what he was up to. I asked one of the friendlier guys about him and he didn't know where to start. "If you want to know more, go to our video library and watch the documentary HBO did about him. It's old, but has a lot of information. It's called 'Ozark Wild Child' or 'Wild Child of the Ozarks' or something like that." So I went to the library and finally found it. My God! No wonder he was such a topic of conversation! He was found living in a tiny shack somewhere deep in a forest. He was all by himself at the age of 9, malnourished and sick. Investigators found out that he'd been raised by two uncles who were alcoholics and drug addicts. They'd abused him physically and never enrolled him in school. They went missing and the boy had been left alone for nearly two years. He ate what he could find and somehow survived before hunters found him. He was barely verbal and couldn't really help authorities with many details. Social Services whisked him away to an institution here in St. Louis. I guess they did their best to rehabilitate and educate him with only modest success. There was an attempt to "mainstream" him in a public school's Special Education class, but he only lasted a few days. He was "inappropriate" around both girls and boys in his class. He would also fly into rages, soil himself and shed his clothes. He was taken straight to an institution and not really heard from again until he was released to a halfway house at the age of 22. "John" was the fake name they gave him. He behaved himself for a while, but then started getting in trouble again. He'd been accused of indecent exposure multiple times and also of molesting two women in he park. He spent 18 months in prison and then placed in a stricter halfway home. He was ultimately allowed the freedom to live on his own, but pretty much unemployable. The last segment of the program was an interview with him in his little subsidized apartment. I was immediately struck by how darkly good-looking he was. He had long black hair and a messy beard, but his eyes were black and deeply sorrowful. He wasn't very good with words but mumbled something about trying to learn and be "a better person". The End. I stayed in the library and used the computer to search for more about John since the documentary came out three years ago. I finally found out what all the whispering was about. Apparently, he'd been arrested several times for groping and molesting men and women. Two women had accused him of giving them a venereal disease, but never showed up to court to testify. It was alleged he was infected with HIV as well. He was imprisoned again, but was free as of two months ago. Now there was word he was back to his old ways, but nothing had been confirmed. I learned from one of the secretaries that there were certain parks that were always empty because The Wild Man had been seen there. I needed to know more. No detail was too small. I went to my manager and asked if I could do a follow-up on John, but he refused. '"We're liable for anything that happens to you on the job. I'm not sending you somewhere to get raped or killed and then get sued. Drop it". I went back to my regular job of covering civil cases and boring city hall news. There was a round of lay-offs and my manager was let go. I made an appointment to see the editor. I wanted this story to happen. "What's your name?" "My name is Dennis, Sir. I've been here for almost a year. I'm a good writer". "Dennis, huh? Well, I'm going to tell you some things that you can never repeat...to ANYONE. Can I trust you?" "Absolutely". I was holding my breath. "First of all -- This paper is being purchased by a big conglomerate, so it's not gonna be my problem if you put yourself in danger. I could give a shit if Wild Man cuts your throat, but I'd like a nice severance when I leave here next month. If you write something that sells a lot of papers, it'll be more money in my pocket". And then he handed me two pieces of paper. "That one page contains the contact information for his social worker. The second is the contact information for Wild Man himself. I got it from a cop who's one of my best drinking buddies. Use whichever one you want. Now get out of my office". I took the pages and stood up to leave, "Dennis? You got any family?" "Yes sir. My parents and two younger sisters. They live in Colorado". "Give them a call this weekend. Say 'hello' and talk". "I will". I didn't. I was too eager for a call to Wild Man. I sat on my living room floor and dialed his number. "Hello. Hi." "Is this John?" "Yes. It is John. Who are you?" "My name is Dennis. I'm a reporter for The Dispatch". (silence) "But that's just what I do for a job. I'd like to meet you". "As my friend?" "Yes. I want to meet you and talk to you as a friend". "I like friends. You sound like a friend. Come over now". What? Now? I was prepared to maybe meet him next week sometime, but now? It was almost nighttime. "OK. Would you like me to bring you anything?" "Yes. Bring me a hamburger please. I am hungry". "OK. I'm not far away. I'll be there soon". I grabbed a notebook, some pens and left. I stopped at Wendy's and bought the biggest, loaded-up burger they had. He didn't live that far away. I drove past a park that was one of the ones he'd been rumored to haunt. His building was well-maintained but very sad looking...as was the rest of the neighborhood. At least my car was too crappy to steal. I knocked on his door. And there he was. Wild Man. He'd cleaned himself up a little since the documentary. His beard was gone and replaced with just some dark stubble. He'd also had an extreme haircut -- probably by an amateur. It was short but very uneven. He was thin and just a shade taller than me. "Come inside, Dennis. Is that my hamburger?" He motioned toward the bag I was carrying. "Yeah. I hope you like it". He took if from me and asked me what the notebook was for. "That is a very nice notebook. I can do the whole alphabet -- let me show you". He was only wearing a pair of jockey shorts that looked brand new. I thought he was going to eat the burger, but put it in a cabinet instead. If I'm not mistaken, I saw two full glasses of milk in there too. Weird. He had me sit on the floor with him as he took my notebook and a pen and started slowly writing out the alphabet. He then started making a drawing of sorts. Wild Man proudly showed the page to me. The alphabet was crude, but accurate except for the exclusion of the letter "J". The drawing kind of looked like a kite...or a house...or something. "That is yours now, Dennis. You can have it". "You did a good job!" "I can do numbers for you too, but not now. Talk to me. Want to watch TV with me? We can watch TV". "Sure". He stood up and I got a good look at his body. He had a very nice bulge in his underwear, but it was hard to tell from my angle on the floor and the low lighting. "Get up now, Dennis. You can sit on the couch next to me". Cartoons. I might have guessed we would watch cartoons. John seemed just as amused by the commercials as he was by the Rugrats or whatever they were. "Can I ask you a question, John?" "NO! MY NAME IS JONAH! You be quiet now". Sorry". "QUIET!!!" Well, I guess I was going to watch cartoons now. I had my story already. I just had to remember every detail. 'i am sorry I yelled, Dennis". "It's okay, Jonah". More silence. And then I couldn't help but notice he had his left hand in his underwear. "I am very sorry for yelling. I will not do t again". "It's all forgotten now, Friend". "Do you like to have fun, Dennis?" "Yes. Fun is fun to have". God, I was talking like him now. "Let me show something that is fun". He stood up and let his underwear drop to the floor. His dick has long, fat and thickly-veined. And it also had weird bumps here and there. He started jacking off. I watched. It was amazing and somewhat hot. "You do it now too, Dennis". I slipped off my shoes, socks and pants. I was hard. This man excited me. "Shirt. Take off your shirt now". I did. "I can squirt juice from my part. but I like to make it last". I didn't know what to do or say next. "Dennis?" "Yes?" "The nurse said I have sickness in this part of me. Do you think I do?" "No, Jonah. You are not sick. You are perfect". "I want to have more fun now. Do you?" I did. I got up off the couch and knelt before him. I took his big, weird dick in my mouth. He almost screamed with pleasure. I started sucking him. That feels good to me. But you better stop, I have too much juice in there". I didn't stop. He humped my face and shot a major load in my throat and mouth. I came at that moment too. "Thank you, Dennis. I want to have more fun!" We sat back down on the couch and watched Square Sponge Guy for awhile. I must have fallen asleep for a bit. As I drifted off, I wondered what kind of STDs I had now. "Wake up. Dennis!" We were both still naked. Talk about unprofessional. "You missed all the best parts!" "Sorry, Jonah. What time is it?" "I can tell time! I can tell by the clock on the cable box that it is 11 o'clock. The phone will ring soon. Cheryl will make sure I am at home and not out being bad". The phone rang and Jonah answered it. I almost went back to sleep. "Wake up, Dennis. Why do you sleep so much? I want to have more fun!" "Sure, Jonah. What do you want to do?" "You know that place in your bottom where your bathroom comes out?" "Uh...yes." "Don't say 'uh'. Well, I can put my juice in there." I knew what he meant. "You want to put your part in my bottom?" "Yes. You're my friend and I love you. Let's go" I thought we'd be going to his bedroom, but Wild Man just pushed me back down to the floor. He made me get on all fours, and started mounting me from behind. He pushed himself slowly in as I tried not to scream. I let a small yelp as he went deeper. "Be quiet now. We can yell outside, but not in here. Want to go outside later?" He was still thrusting his wild dick in me and kept picking up the pace. Faster and faster. "I've got too much juice again!!!" And then he stayed still, holding my hips and breathing heavy. The Wild Man had fucked me. Boy did he ever. I had herpes, gono, and of course, HIV. My fault. I had insider information, but pretended not to. We stayed in touch over the phone for a few weeks as I composed my story. He begged me to come over again for more "fun". I did. A few times. I had a love for Wild Man, but we were better off without each other. So I wrote an article including most of what you've read here. The newspaper was sold and the editor retired. I decided to submit the story to "Rolling Stone" instead. It was reprinted everywhere and I got some great job offers from some big publications. I took almost all the work I was offered, but I couldn't leave St. Louis. It was my home now, and had to take good care of my friend, The Wild Man.

Thanks, man. You rock.

Somewhere around the age of 4 or 5. I was looking through a "National Geographic" and saw a human skull. It was a photograph and it horrified me. I slept on the floor of my parents' room for four nights in a row after that. Of course my older brother would tease me by clipping pictures of skulls or skeletons anywhere he could and hiding them around my room. I didn't know if caused such an extreme terror in me, but I think it was the teeth. The smile. The dead a smile that said "I have a secret" or "You're going to be just like me eventually". It was a grin that was barely holding back a laugh. I gradually toughened up a little (having a big brother will do that to you), and could at least see a skull without crying. The phobia stayed with me, though. Every time someone smiles at me and I see bare teeth, I visualize their skull beneath. I ended up making friends with unhappy, frowning kids as I grew up. A wide, bright smile repulsed me on a base level. I even became an accounting major because they seemed like safe, joyless students to be around. 1996 I was working for an investment firm in a fairly large city. I was 24 and basically happy to be on my own. I had a group of pals who were all pretty glum except for Whit. Whit was a joker who I just couldn't rid of. He loved pranks and telling jokes and didn't even seem to mind that I wouldn't look him in the face. He was a new guy at the firm just like me and we just wound up as friends despite everything I tried to avoid it. He's the first person who ever asked me if I was gay. "What? Why would you ask that?" "Just a feeling I get around you. It's OK with me if you are. I know several gay people". Not long after that conversation, I was scheduled to get a check-up for my insurance company. I was physically fine, but the doctor recommended I see somebody about my depression. "Why?" "From what I've seen, you exhibit many symptoms. You keep your eyes on the floor, will barely open your mouth when you speak and seem a bit detached from the world around you". "I'm not depressed and I'm not going to see some therapist or psychologist or whatever". He wrote something on a small card. "Either go see this lady or I'll make a notation on your file. I don't enjoy making threats, but what's going on with you is beyond just shyness". I took the card and got up to leave. "You have two weeks to make an appointment". When I got back to my car I realized I had no idea what the man I'd just talked to even looked like. I knew he had brown hair, but that's about it. Maybe I did need some help. I imagine being endlessly withdrawn is as exhausting as being endlessly outgoing. I was tired. And lonely. When I got to Dr. Kern's office, I made an effort to look at her. She was a small, older lady with long graying hair tied back in a braid. She smiled. I could do this. I had to. "Gene?" "Yes. Hello. I'm a little early". "No problem. I've had two cancellations today and have been wishing I'd remembered to bring a paperback with me". "What do I do? Sit? Lay down?" "Whatever you want. Just be comfortable". We talked. And talked and talked. Twice a week. We discussed everything -- even my childhood fear of skulls and my teasing brother. "Most little kids fear death because they don't, can't fully understand it. It's common. My daughter was traumatized by a stuffed owl at a museum. She knew it was dead, but yet somehow wasn't. Most of us go through this and get over it, but it seems as though you still haven't. You're still so afraid of death that you haven't lived". That hit home. We "processed" a lot of things over the next few months. She prescribed a pill I took every morning, and gradually I started to change. Smiles didn't bother me and looking at people's faces got easier and easier. Even my upbeat friend Whit didn't bother me anymore. He's the one who finally told me I needed to get laid. "Regular sex is a great mood stabilizer. Trust me on that one". "Yeah, but I'm gay. You figured it out just before I did. It's not exactly a great time to be having gay sex". "That's what condoms are for, Gene. I always wrap it up because I don't want to be a dad anytime soon". He's the one who suggested I go to a gay bar, and even agreed to go with me the first time. I kept postponing that, but we eventually to a place called "Edges". It wasn't anything like I imagined it would be. It looked normal except for the lack of females. He invited his gay friend, Kirby to meet us there. We sat at a table and shared a big pitcher of beer. I actually felt casual and relaxed. Somehow I even managed to crack or joke or two. And smile. And laugh. When Whit to the bathroom, I asked Kirby what other bars he liked to go to. He rattled off a few names of places. "This neighborhood is full of them. Some get a little raunchy at night, but I've always enjoyed a little sleaze. What about you? You ever get sleazy?" "Ah. No. I'm just now learning how to come out of my shell". "Well, Welcome out! You'll be fine...cute young thing like you". Condom. The word suddenly flashed in my brain. After another hour, we called it a night. I told Dr. Kerns about the experience and she was happy, but warned me about bars. "People with histories and profiles like yours often have substance abuse issues, Gene. Limit your alcohol intake or you'll destroy the progress we've made". I didn't listen of course. I kept finding myself at different gay bars, drinking. I went to one place near downtown called "Arc" that was a little too loud and a little too dark, but I saw Kirby there. He was surprised to see me. "Are you here alone?" "Yeah. I'm all the way out of my shell now. I'm shell-free!" "Do you know what this is? It's a cruise bar with back rooms. It's practically a bath house...except with no sauna". "Oh. It's pretty popular, though". "For a reason. I have to go pretty soon or I'd stick around and keep an eye on you. Does Whit know you're here?" "No. And don't tell him, OK?" "I won't...as long as you promise to stay up here by the bar and leave before 11. Deal?" "Deal". He gave me a hug and turned to leave. He stopped, dug in his pocket and put a tiny plastic packet in my hand. It was a condom. A stool opened up at the bar and I sat down. I had a few beers and made small talk with the guy next to me. Randy. He was as big as a linebacker, had a shaved head and small, trimmed beard. He kept buying me shots, but I sipped them slowly. "Hasn't anybody ever taught you how to do a shot? You're supposed to just down it in one gulp". So I did and he bought another. And another. And more beers. "What time is it? Is there a clock around here somewhere?" "Why? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight? You don't look orange yet and it's 12:15" I laughed and told him about what Kirby had said about this place getting dangerous after 11 and how there were backrooms and stuff". "He's just trying to scare you. Look around. Does this look dangerous to you? And there are some rooms back there, but it's mostly just guys talking or making out a little. It's not as loud in the rooms. Finish your beer and I'll give you a quick tour. You're safe with me at your side". That I knew. I guessed him to be at least 6'6" when we stood up from the stools. I followed him to the rear of the bar. He had a small tattoo on the back of his left upper arm. It was a small symbol I'd seen somewhere before. After he opened the door he led me into a barely-lit hallway. There were doors on both sides and it all sorta reminded me of a college dorm at night. He tried the knobs on a few doors, but they were locked. He found an unlocked one and invited me in. I guess I expected chairs or couches or something like that. There was just a padded bench and a little table. The only light came from a red neon sign that said "pleasure" -- only the 'u' and 'r' were out and it just read "please". I had a bad feeling about this...especially when Randy locked the door. "People come here to talk?" "Yeah. Let's sit here and talk a minute, and then we'll go back out to the bar". We sat next to each other. It felt awkward to say the least. He started touching my leg and then my hair. He wasn't talking. "I noticed your tattoo? What is it?" "Oh, that's a long story. I'll tell you later". "It looks fa..." I couldn't finish the sentence because his lips covered mine and we were kissing. Deeply. His tongue has snaking all over the inside of my mouth. as alarmed as I was, I didn't want him to stop. My whole body responded to the kiss. I let myself touch his arms and back. I knew where this was going -- what with the locked door and all. Whit told me I needed to get laid and I guess now it was actually going to happen. I didn't even mind that he had pretty much tricked me into coming back here. He abruptly stopped, stood up and started taking off his clothes. He was then standing there in the red light, completely naked. His penis was as huge as the rest of him and it was pointing straight out in my direction. "Don't just sit there, boy! Take your clothes off!" I did because he demanded it and also because I wanted to. I looked at his hard dick the whole time I stripped and I guess he noticed because he started stroking it and showing it off. Once I was naked, he took the belt out the loops of his discarded jeans. He snapped it and struck my across the front of my neck. Goddamn it hurt!! It fucked up my throat because I couldn't even yell. Just gasping noises came out. "Now lay down!" I lied on my back and suddenly remembered the condom in my pocket. If I'd been able to speak I could have asked him to get it out of my pocket. Too late now, I guess. He whipped me with the belt a few more times...on my stomach and legs. He then used the belt to tie my wrists together tightly. I was helpless at this point. He then sat his bare ass on my face. "Be a good boy and you'll be treated like one. Fuck up and I'll make you pay". I was smothered with his big round butt and couldn't breathe. "Lick that hole, boy". No way. I was not going to put my tongue in someone else's anus. Who in the world do that? He got impatient and squatted down with more pressure. I needed oxygen badly. I had to lick it or I'd suffocate. So I stuck my tongue up there as far as I could. It wasn't as disgusting as I would have thought, but it definitely killed any arousal I had left. He sighed with pleasure and let up the pressure a little. I managed to get a little air and started coughing and choking like someone had held my head underwater. "Oh. Poor baby. Get as much air as you can now because you're going to need it in a second". I was heaving and gasping. He then turned around, straddled my head and started pushing that ridiculous dick of his past my lips and tongue, aiming to plug up my already sore throat. "Dammit! Watch the teeth,boy. You just lost a few points". I gagged and felt vomit gurgling up. Lack of air was once again becoming a problem. The head of that giant dick was lodged in my windpipe. Luckily, he decided to pull out a little and start humping my face up and down. I breathed through my nose when I could. "Good boy. Keep that up and you might get some extra credit". We did this for another minute or two. It felt like my throat was ruined forever now. He stood back up and moved around the bench to spread my legs wide apart. "Ready for the main event?" I tried to talk. I tried to ask him to get the condom out of my jeans. I even motioned with my eyes at the floor. "What?" He looked where I was looking. "No. It's not time to put your clothes on yet". I tried again to talk..."Condom". I managed to gasp. "Are you kidding me, boy? That's how little you trust me? That's going to cost you!" He spit on his hard dick and in a split second, had plunged halfway into me. I was going to die. It hurt so bad and all I could do was make a hissing sound with my mouth. I honestly thought my body would fall apart into two pieces. I guess the good thing is that it didn't hurt more as he moved in further. I had only tears and gasps. He didn't care because he was really into it. He pumped back and forth. That naked penis was going to put sperm inside me. "Your dick isn't hard, boy. This isn't going to end until I see it hard". I was so far from aroused. I could usually get an erection in seconds, but now I didn't think I'd have one again. It pissed him off. He wrapped those giant hands around my throat and started to squeeze. I'd be mute for life. He was all the way inside of me as he bent down to kiss me. He kept pumping and talking dirty to help inspire my dick. "Oh yeah. You're going to get my seed and then I'll own you forever. Yeah. I'm going to get you pregnant tonight. Your life is going to change in a few seconds". He kept up the chatter and it started to work -- on some sick level. He tightened the grip on my neck. My vision blurred a little. I looked at his face. His bald head and wide smile were lit up from the red neon. A grinning skull. I was back to square one. Death was fucking me. The thought of that, the lack of oxygen and the deep pleasure I was feeling caused me not only get hard, but to cum instantly. "Good boy. Here comes your A +". He made mad, quick thrusts and then groaned loudly. It was done. He let his heavy body cover mine for half a minute before taking the belt from around my wrists. He got dressed and told me to do the same. It hurt to walk and move. He gave me a second to steady myself before we exited the little room. Outside in the bar, people were chatting and drinking and laughing like the world hadn't changed. But it had. He went up to the bar and said a few words to the bartender. He came back with a pen and a card. "Write your number down. Your REAL phone number. If it's fake, I'll find you and kill you. Got it?" I did as told. "Your neck will look better in a few days. Just try to keep out of sight until it does. I'll call you next week. I owe you a nice dinner". I went home and stayed in bed for four days. They believed me when I called in sick to work because my voice was so wrecked. Despite everything, I would catch myself smiling all the time now.

Maybe it's because I was the youngest of five kids and "a surprise", but my parents always seemed old and tired to me. I wasn't really disciplined or even spanked that I remember. i was allowed to watch whatever I wanted on TV. I'll never forget being 9 or 10 years old and watching "Carrie" on cable with my parents sitting on either side of me on the couch. (I still don't think I've fully recovered from that final scene). We also watched a lot of boring 'grown-up' shows together. I never complained about the choice of program because I knew if I did, they'd tell me to go outside or do homework. Once. we were watching some courtroom drama when the the lawyer was telling the jury that the defendant had killed her lover because she had been spurned....only I thought he said it was because she had been spermed. How weird. I was old enough to know what sperm was, but I couldn't imagine how you spermed another person. It was years later that I learned what the word actually was and what it meant to be spurned. 2002 I was living and working in a fairly big city. I finally came out at the age of 24 and was living the gay life except for the fact that I'd never had gay sex. I could imagine having a boyfriend and dating, but that's as far as my fantasies went. I had gay friends who tried to get me laid. Terry was one of them. "Go on the computer and put a personal ad somewhere, anywhere. Start chatting and watching porn to get yourself worked up a little. I could send you some links". I liked Terry a lot. He lived in my apartment building and met the day I moved in. I guess there was attraction there at first, but we ended up friends. He was pretty much a slut and recounted his adventures with men almost daily. I'm pretty sure he had HIV, but never asked. If he wanted me to know, he'd tell me. One Saturday night he coaxed me out to a bar called "Boots". I begged him to stay close because the place was pretty dark and sleazy. We'd already seen one guy blow another guy in the parking lot -- and the sun was barely down! The inside of the place was small, smoky and crowded. Terry got us some beers and searched for someplace we could sit. There was none. "It's probably not smart, but let's go down to the basement. It's less busy, but the guys there tend to be a little predatory. TRY to look less innocent! Frown or something". He mussed up mu hair a little and we descended the wooden stairs to the basement. There were two bars down there. One was pretty decently lit and didn't seem so bad, but there was nowhere to sit. We had to go to the darker bar which was further back. "The bathroom is here, but don't go by yourself. Let me know and I'll take you in". We sat at the bar. I wasn't a smoker back then, but felt like I'd already had half a pack from all the nicotine exhaust in the air. We sat at the bar on two ancient stools and the obese bartender chatted with us a little. He offered us free shots. "Blue, this is Cal. He's new. Help me watch out for him tonight". "He looks new. Too new. And you brought him down here??" "He's fine. So don't make him nervous, Blue". After the bartender left, I begged Terry to not worry so much about me. "And is he called 'Blue' by the way?" "Who knows? I think maybe he had blue hair years ago". We sat and drank when suddenly I felt like smoking a cigarette. "Can you go get us some smokes?" "I already have some. I figured you'd want one after being here for long enough. I always do". We drank and smoked and Terry talked to a few guys he knew. Suddenly, a short, shirtless Hispanic guy sat next to me. He looked very fit but also unwell. He was maybe my age or a tad older. "Can I bum a smoke?" I took one from the pack on the counter and handed it to him. Terry hadn't noticed because he was busy making some serious eye contact with some leather dude in the corner. "I'm Tito. What's your name?" Heavy accent. "I'm Cal. You have a nice body, Tito". "Thanks. I work for Goodwill and have to lift a lot of heavy boxes. I also drive a truck". He paid for the next round. Terry had disappeared with his leather dude. We kept drinking and talking and smoking. I almost suspected he had dentures, but there was no way a guy that young would have false teeth. "What's your philosophy on life, Cal?" Huh? "I guess just to survive". "I believe in the '3 C's....Compassion, Charity and Christ". Oh no. "But surviving is key too, friend. I'm glad I met you. Is this your first time here?" "Yep". More drinks. His chest was so solid-looking. I reached out and touched it. And then we were kissing. A long time. I decided I needed a break. "I gotta go use the restroom, Tito. Be back in a second". It was empty. I almost expected too see another blowjob session...or worse. I had to go bad and it took me a long time to empty my bladder. I guess I was distracted by being with Tito, that I hadn't even notice anything else. The door squeaked open and in he came. He stood at the urinal next to me and let loose a loud, splashy stream of piss. Even though I was done, I stayed still and looked over. His dick was hard even though he was peeing. It was a nice penis. Not terribly long or thick, but the head was almost the size of a billiard ball. He was done, but left it hanging out for me to continue admiring. I felt my face burn as my dick got hard too. Right then, Blue waddled in. Terry had asked him to watch out for me and I guess that's what he was doing. Tito and I zipped up innocently and flushed at the same time. Back at the bar, we continued talking. He kept touching his crotch and asking me to feel it too. "It's late. Nobody will care. Here...." He pulled out his light bulb of a cock. I was in over my head already, so I thought "What the hell?" I felt it only for a few seconds because I was too afraid of somebody seeing. "It's late, Cal. Even the owner of this place doesn't mind a little 'slap and tickle' at this hour". I'd never heard that phrase before. "Slap and tickle?" "Not literally, kid. You don't want me to actually slap you...or do you?" "Probably not. No tickling at all, though. I would hate that way more than being hit". "You sound a little drunk. Why don't we go to your place?" That's when Terry came back. I guess he and Mr. Leather had finished their business already. I looked at him and his eyes flashed a tiny warning. He was also shaking his head back and forth every so subtly. Blue was back too. "Last call, gentlemen". Terry helped me up from the stool and started leading me back upstairs. "Hold on. Cal and I have plans already," Tito said. "You don't have plans with my boyfriend!" Tito looked crushed. He then shot me hateful stare. "You never told me you already had a boyfriend. There's a special circle in Hell for guys like you". What happened? I went from feeling a man's great penis and wanting him to fuck me....to pissing him off and leaving. He issued a few more verbal abuses as we walked away: "You're too stupid anyway. You're ten pounds overweight and have a round face like an infant. Get the fuck out of here already". I knew he felt spurned and I hated that. Once we were in the parking lot, Terry turned to face me. "I should have never left you alone and I'll never bring you here again". "Tito is a nice guy. Why did you call me your boyfriend? His feelings are really hurt". "That guy has been around forever. He's got AIDS and false teeth for Christ's sake!" "Oh". "Please tell me you didn't do anything with him. You didn't suck his dick did you??" "No. I just touched it a little. And we kissed a lot. I don't think he has false teeth, though. I would have felt that". "Of course he does. I've seen him at this very bar without them. His mouth caves in like an old man's. This was such a bad idea". On the drive back to our apartment building, I asked him about the man he'd been with. "It was fun. We just fucked in his Jeep and did a little blow. His cock was...my God! At least I got his number". I went to bed that night and felt the room spin a little. I took Rolaids and thought about Tito. Tito. I woke up the next morning, wishing I could call him and apologize. I wanted to explain, to stop feeling so guilty. What I did was go back to "Boots" on my own. Several times. I didn't see Tito, but I saw Terry's leather friend. He saw me make eye contact and moved quickly to approach me. "Hey -- I know you, right?" "No. You saw me about a week ago with Terry and you guys hooked up....in your Jeep". "Oh. Him. Everybody in town has hooked up with that guy. I remember now. You were hanging out with Tito. He lives one floor above me, but I don't really know him or anything. Seems like a nice guy, though". "He is. He hates me now and I can't really blame him". "I don't hate you. I like you. Do you like ME?" Well, it was a little hard to get past all the crazy leather...especially the cap. But he wasn't bad. We ended up having some drinks and talking about nothing. Blue was there again. He rolled his eyes when he saw me. I guess I had a bad reputation already. Great. I just kept drinking as my new leather friend started pawing me. "I'm Steve, by the way. You ever been with a real man?" "I haven't been with any man". "Not even Terry, your boyfriend?" "He's not my boyfriend. He told Tito that because he wanted to get me out of here". "Oh. Well then we can have sex then, right?" I just smiled and ordered another drink. I already knew he had an amazing dick and wanted to see it, but I needed to be more drunk. Steve lined us up with several shots and we worked our way through them as closing time approached. "You know how Terry described your dick? He just said 'oh my god'". "Look for yourself". He'd already slipped t out of his leather pants. It was like something out of science fiction. Fat, long and hard as granite. I started to bend over to kiss it, but he stopped me. "Not now, Cal". I didn't remember telling him my name. "Let's get out of here". I followed him. He was huge and everybody looked st us as we walked out. We sat in his infamous Jeep for a few seconds. "I'm going to have to sober you up a little. Here. He handed me a tiny plastic bag of white powder. Cocaine. I'd never even smoked weed before, but here I was putting a tiny straw up my nose and sniffing a real drug. It burned....in a good way. Now I knew why so many people liked it. Steve was right about its sobering effects. I was immediately alert and very awake. "My heart is pounding. I don't think I'm OK". "You just overdid it a little. My fault. Here -- take this". He handed me a tiny pill and I swallowed it without thinking. I was very awake, but definitely not very smart. We drove a short distance to a residential street in a rundown neighborhood. He helped me walk up to a big house with three stories. "Is this your house?" "No. It's divided into apartments and I live on the second floor. Tito is on the third, but no lights are on. He's out". I lived in place like this while going to college. But there was a row of mailboxes on the front porch and I saw only one here. He unlocked the door and we climbed a flight of stairs up to his place. There was no number on the door and he didn't use a key to open it. I thought it was weird, but my brain was a bit foggy and couldn't form any questions. His place was a mess. Clothes, full ashtrays and dirty plates and magazines were lying around everywhere. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting company tonight. We went into a small room with just a big TV and and beat-up couch. Steve sprawled on the couch and told me to take his boots off. He lit a cigarette and watched me kneel down and pull off his giant leather boots. I fully expected to find leather socks on his feet, but they were just plain white and regular. And slightly smelly. I removed them as well. He ordered me to remove his pants too, That was a little more difficult and I was having trouble. I was just too out of it. "Never mind. Stay right where you are and I'll finish. I sat like a dumb squirrel while this giant man got naked inches from me. He was then totally nude except for the leather cap which he left on. My guess is that he was bald, but I didn't dare ask. "Suck my fuckin' cock, Cal". I tried. It was just so big and I had no experience. I worked as much of it in my mouth as I could. I tried to pretend I was Terry and be more slutty. I got an inch or two more in and started gagging. I thought I was going to vomit. I was determined, though. As I sucked him, he started telling me something about the rules I need to follow to become a "slave". Slave? Was he kidding? I gagged again, and that was when he told me to stop. He started beating his enormous dick and built himself up to an orgasm. He wouldn't put it in my mouth. He just sprayed my face with his hot, heavy load. "Good boy. Now stay here and don't clean off your face. I need to make a quick call". I tried to collect myself a little. He didn't say I has to keep kneeling so I got up and sat on the couch. I'd so many things tonight. I tried to catalog all of them in my head. but nothing would stick. Dammit. I should have not taken that pill. Maybe if he let me do more cocaine? I sat there nakedly and heard him on the phone out in the hall. Maybe he was on speaker phone because I could have sworn I heard two voices. Maybe. I wish he'd come back. Then he did. Still nude. He wasn't completely hard. "Get up and follow me. You didn't wipe your face did you?" No Sir". "Good boy. Let's go. We went to the next room which is where I guess he slept. It was pretty bad. There was just a bare mattress on the floor and stacks of dirty laundry. "Now lay down. On your back. You're going to get fucked proper now. How's that sound?" "Sounds good, Sir". I lied flat on the grimy mattress and closed my eyes. "SURPRISE!" In walked Tito, naked and hard. I sat up a little and wanted to ask what was going on. "LAY BACK, BOY! Don't make this any worse". My heart was pounding again. "This house is mine and Tito is my roommate. He had me go get you and bring you to him. Don't worry. He knows that night wasn't what he thought. You're sorry. He's sorry. But you're still getting fucked". Tito padded barefoot up to the mattress and then straddled me. "Look at you, Cal. You've got a face covered with HIV. How's it feel?" He didn't have his teeth in. His face was different but still handsome. "Do you have AIDS, Tito?" "Oh yeah. So does Steve. We're still not sure who got it first, nut we do know who's getting it next. You". They gave me cocaine and strong-smelling stuff from a little bottle. I took it all in greedily until I was in another solar system. Tito lowered himself down and Steve spread my legs. My ex-enemy still seemed a little mad as he pushed the huge head into my ass. I think there was an audible tearing sound when he got it in. I yelled and begged and cried, but who would help me now? He kissed me with his toothless mouth and I could feel huge gobs of his saliva going down my throat. He got up a little and stared down into my face. "Still want to be slapped, Cal?" "I...." Then he smacked me hard in the face with his open palm. "I like abusing little boys and so does Steve, but his hands are bigger. So get ready". He went back to sloppily kissing me and started tightening his jabs. He was going to cum AIDS into me and I could do nothing. He came, that huge pink head expanding and pushing sperm into my body. And it was done. I'd been fucked. A few weeks ago, I would have never imagined this. He smiled at me and slapped me one more time. He peeled himself away and then it was Steve's turn. He was such a giant, but the fucking didn't hurt as much on this go around. I took his load and then we all relaxed a little. "This mattress is soaked with blood, Steve. We gotta throw it out". "I got a new one, still in the plastic, stowed in the attic. This will be Cal's quarters from now on". We did more coke and more poppers and even a few nightcaps before another round of fucking. I dozed a little at some point. So I ended up living there and paying rent. Tito and Steve moved all my stuff to the second floor. I was forbidden to ever talk to Terry again and that made me sad. There was still an active chat about making me into an official slave, but that would require a lot of time and me proving myself. None of that could really start until I got over the horrible flu I'd developed out of the blue. Steve and Tito took turns sleeping with me at night. I was constantly being fucked by one or both of them. I lived 24 hours a day being constantly spermed.

1998 Winters in the Midwest are either miserably cold or ugly or both. It's weird that I chose that time of year to come out and start playing around. I could have chosen July when all the hot men wore practically nothing, but I guess you don't really get a choice on when you "awaken". The timing was also unfortunate because there had been almost a dozen cases of young gay men in my city vanishing without a trace. The cops didn't really do much about it until gay groups and parents of the missing guys started getting vocal and calling for an investigation. These were not gay prostitutes on the street -- they were young men just like myself. Guys who had jobs and families. Maybe it was due to my age, but I never really worried about it too much when I went out. Nothing bad or weird had ever happened to me. There was a gay bar near my work called "Jamm". It was small, friendly and the gossip was always good. The latest hot talk was about the new police artist sketch that was being posted everywhere. Apparently somebody had been approached by a man who gave him "a creepy feeling" and tried to get him into his car. That didn't seem like much of a lead, but the sketch was posted everywhere now. It wasn't a very good sketch. The face looked too weird and angular - like a Marvel comic character. The hair especially looked bizarre. I sat at the bar and listened to the speculation.... "I thought it was Jerry at first, but he never leaves his house since he discovering computer porn". "I think I saw him at Lansbury Park". "He's probably changed his whole look since this came out". "It says he's between 5'11" and 6'6"? How do not narrow that down!?" The doorman/bouncer made sure everybody left with a photocopy of the sketch. I put it in my coat pocket and went home. A week later I went to the pharmacy to get a prescription refilled. I was on an antidepressant that I wasn't sure was working, but it gave me great dreams. Of course there was a problem. The pharmacist said there was no record of me on file. Fuck. I'd come for months and knew I was in a computer database somewhere. I was trying to be patient with this boob, but my voice was getting louder and angrier. I was not one to cause a scene however this seemed as good a time as any. The manager scurried over and wanted to know what the problem was. The pharmacist and I began talking at the same time while the manager went directly to the computer and started fiddling around on the keyboard. "Lou! You only brought up only the past week's archive file. This young man is in our permanent record. Go take your break now and we'll talk later". Victorious! The manager took it upon himself to fill my prescription himself. I watched him and noticed how tall and odd-looking he was. And obviously wearing a toupee. He fit the role of a pharmacy manger pretty well. He handed me the pills and said, "No charge. We apologize, Mr. Brewer". I left and went home to eat dinner and fed my cat. I was almost ready for bed when the phone rang. "Hello?' "Mr. Brewer?" "This is Tim, yes." "It's Joseph Noddingham from the drug store. I filled your prescription". "Oh yeah. Wait -- Your last name is the same as the name of the store?" "Yes. My family owns all the Noddingham Pharmacies in the country.We're based here." "Wow." "I just wanted to apologize again for the mix-up. Are those pills working out for you? I'm not familiar with that one at all". "Well, I wouldn't say they make me happy -- but I sleep great and have some awesome dreams". "You're unhappy?" Not all the time. I'm just not in a good mood very often these days". We ended up having a long conversation about moods, life and the limits of medicine. I told him needed to go to bed, but thanked him for the call. "Goodnight, Tim. Enjoy those dreams". And that, the phone rang again and again over the next ten days, Joseph (or "Nod"as he liked to be called) talked a lot. It stopped seeming weird after a while. He kept asking to take me out to dinner and I ran out of reasons to decline. He picked me up one Friday night when the temps were hovering a bit below zero. We went to nice place and it sat net to a large window with a nice view of the city lights. As he ordered an obscure wine, I studies his face. Something was familiar about it. He was probably in his early 40's and not too bad looking. His hair was the probably his worst feature. It looked like a wig but possibly it wasn't. We ate a great meal and drank wine...two bottle's worth. About fifteen minutes after we finished up, I felt that arctic wind through the glass. I shivered and considered putting my coat on, but that would probably be rude. "Cold, Tim?" "Yeah. I tend to run cold anyway and this Winter has kicked my butt so bad". "I've got an indoor, heated pool at home. And the whole place to myself this week. Want to come soak up some warmth for a bit?" That sounded so good. "Well, Nod -- I didn't bring swim trunks. Sounds nice, though". "We're both guys, Tim. We don't need swim suits. Come on. It'll be nice, and I'll drive you home later". "Well...OK. But I have a cat that will need her breakfast at 9 in the morning". "No problem. Let's go". We drove through some really nice neighborhoods I'd never seen before and then we were in the country. He lived in a friggin' mansion next to some woods. We went into the huge house and I could smell the pool right away. Chlorine has a sexy smell in my opinion. Make me think of men in tiny swimsuits and bare chests and hairy legs. He led me to the by the arm to the pool. It was beautiful. There was even a tiny waterfall at the end. As I turned to compliment his set-up, he was already striping off all his clothes. Once he was done, he stood in a Super Man pose and showed off his stuff. His physique was thin but pretty muscular and his dick was long and pointy. He had a fair amount of body hair and his bare feet were bizarrely long. I took off everything too, but didn't pose or anything. I just jumped in the warm blue-green water. God, it felt nice! All the Winter chill left my bones. Weirdly, Nod stayed on the side and started playing with himself, kneading his dick. Well OK then. He was gay too. I probably should have guessed that, but I was new, "Get out and dry off, Tim". I did as told. He had me lay down next to him while he continued to stroke himself. "I've never done anything, Nod". "I figured as much. I've done a lot. I do as much as I can when my wife and kid leave town. Her family lives in New Mexico. Ever been choked? You might get into it." "N-No. Choked? You want to choke me?" "Just a little, Tim. It's part of the play. I like to control a person's breath and help them feel good. I've gotten good at it You'll come like never before". "I don't think so, Nod". He had lubed up his long, weird penis with a mystery lotion. "OK. Can we just fuck then?" I didn't see an option. He mounted me on top and planted that thing into me. It didn't hurt too bad at first, but then I felt an incredible burn in my ass. I tried to tell him to stop but he had his long skinny hands around my throat. I couldn't scream or breathe, He got furious with the his torso and was pummeling me. "See? You passing out yet? If you'd been nicer, I would have used a nice silk scarf instead of my hands. You'll have bruises now, but that's all your fault. ALL YOUR FAULT!" I was starting to black out. "This was supposed to go different. I was going to give you AIDS and let you come back for more. But you wrecked everything. Yeah. At least you won't die of AIDS like I probably will. You'll just die and then I'll have to chop you up and bury your parts in the woods with all the others. BLAME YOURSELF!" I wondered about 'the others' just when he shot his pulsating load inside of me. He had worked himself up so much that the orgasm weakened his grasp on my neck. I took the opportunity to get away from beneath him. He knelt there, composing himself when I pushed him in the water. As he tried to crawl out, I picked up a huge pot of plants and smashed it on his head. He fell back and submerged. I got dressed, got the car keys out of his fancy dress slacks and drove his Lincoln directly to the nearest police station. I relayed my story as quickly as I could. He drowned and I was now a hero....with a bruised neck and HIV in my blood. A serial strangler had been caught. It made national news....especially when they started uncovering all the human bones in the woods. I had to move back with my parents. Mom stayed on top of all my medicines and made sure I ate well. She took me to doctor's appointments regularly. It was nice to be taken care of, but I was still fucked. Some nights I thought of Nod fucking me. I held a pillow over my face with one hand while I beat off with the other.

2001 The events that led up to this story started way back in the early 80's when I was in Sunday school. I'm convinced the teacher we had was mentally ill. From as early as I can remember, she yammered on and on about how dangerous anything "supernatural" was. Anything to do with ghosts was dangerous and crafted by the devil. "Scooby Doo", monster movies, horoscopes, fortune-tellers, Halloween and even "Casper the Friendly Ghost " were all the devil's tricks to keep us away from God. It seemed silly at the time, but she was a grown-up and grown-ups knew everything. I told my parents about what Mrs. Harms had said and they mostly shrugged it off. "But there are no ghosts in Scooby Doo....just people pretending to be ghosts and monsters to scare people," my dad said. He was right. It was mostly the same story all the time and the spooky stuff was never real. Neither of my parents were big on religion, but they went because Dad was an insurance agent and thought regular church attendance was good for business. Tiny seeds of doubt were sprouting in my young brain. I stopped going to Sunday School, but still had to go to the regular services. I never paid any attention to the minister's sermons. I just fidgeted and looked at the choir members who also seemed bored and restless. Fast forward to the Spring when I turned 16. One of those paranormal TV shows came to our city and filmed an episode that focused on a giant abandoned church downtown that took up almost the entire block. I guess there too few believers to keep it open. Rumors of the place being haunted had circulated among us for years. It certainly looked evil. The church had never been pretty -- just a big cement mall-looking structure with not many windows. When it was condemned, a giant chain link fence was put around it with dire warnings that trespassers would be prosecuted. The stupid TV show featured a guy and his team going in with night cameras, tape recorders and electro-magnetic whatever devices to find ghostly activity. They recorded some strange sounds and found a crude pentagram chalked on the basement floor. Not much to indicate paranormal activity, but they edited the footage in such a way that it seemed like the place was wall-to-wall demons or ghosts or something. Everybody watched the episode and the cops stepped up patrolling around the property. Eventually it was forgotten about. In high-school I was best friends with a girl named Andra. Everybody assumed we were dating and we let them keep thinking that. We were both knew the other was gay but never talked about it. After we got our driver's licenses, we explored out boring city at night and often ended up at the faked haunted church. The fence had been heavily vandalized and there lots of places to sneak in. ...especially in the back where it was poorly lit. We talked about going inside to explore, but never did. We had both applied to good schools and didn't want to have any kind of criminal record before getting acceptance letters. Ultimately, we both turned 18 and had gotten into colleges on opposite coasts. We wanted to make the most of that Summer. We both got drunk on booze stolen booze from her dad's liquor cabinet and we both got stoned for the first time. We stayed out all night. Possibly both sets of parents were relieved we were a seemingly straight couple acting like normal. I think they secretly thought their kid was queer, and the two of us staying gave them some false hope. We obliged. One night we ended up at the church again and dared ourselves to go in. We parked on a dark side street a block away and snuck up to the back of the building. We stepped through a gaping hole in the fence. There was rubble everywhere. It's like they decided to try and demolish the place or rehabilitate it but just gave up. We got to a door that was of course blocked with a chain. There were some basement windows that we looked through. Just blackness. I wanted to keep looking for a way in, but Andra had a change of heart... "No. This is bad". "What? What's 'bad'?" "It's not right. I don't feel well and want to leave. NOW". So that was it for the adventure. We did more fun stuff that Summer but never once went back to the church. Then her parents took her on a European vacation and I was left to find my own diversions. Alone. I wish I'd asked more about what she sensed that night because the only thing I felt was fear of rusty nails and jagged broken glass. I still stayed out late, but it wasn't as much fun without Andra. I'd be leaving for a far-away school in a few weeks and wanted to finally see the inside of that church. I parked exactly where I had that last time and even went through the same gape in the fence. This time, however, there was no chain on the door. It was unlocked! And it opened with only a slight rusty creak. Weirdly, I had a sudden of old Mrs. Harms shaking her finger at me. She was long dead and nuzzling an annoyed Jesus at this point. It was dark, but there was light coming from somewhere. A glow. I slowly crept toward it, but felt the floor was buckled and unsafe. I was right near a hole in the floor where the light was coming from. I peeked over into it and saw a large circle of men in gray robes. Behind them were torches or big candles. They were chanting....in sort of a musical way. My mistake was trying to creep closer for a better look. I fell right into the middle of them all. I landed on my feet, but I'm pretty sure I didn't break anything, but my ankles hurt like hell. "We have a delivery from Him!" said a deep voice among the circle. I looked around at them. All the long robes and candles. I could see fingers, but not feet or faces. Two big guys grabbed me. They weren't in robes and I could see them fairly well. They were dressed in identical black shirts, bicycle shorts and heavy black boots. I guess they were the helpers or the new initiates or something like that. "Name!", the same voice demanded. "Kevin". I wanted to see where this was going. There were soft murmurs. "You probably do not know how lucky you are, Mr. Kevin". "I feel scared and unlucky right now". "We have needed you for many months -- and you have needed US as well". And then they all parted their robes and I saw they were all naked and hard. All types of bodies. Some of them were barefoot and some had on those boots. I still couldn't see faces. "Take him to the altar". And then I was laying flat on my back on a cement slab or some sort. Somebody was taking off my shoes and I yelped in pain. "I think he has a broken ankle". "It will be tended to. Just strip him carefully". And then I was just lucky Kevin with my bare ass on cold cement and a crowd of faceless monks or whatever crowding around me. Oh dear lord, Mrs. Harms -- what have I done? And then the robes came off. It was a bunch of guys with shaved heads who looked "wanted by authorities". Many bizarre tattoos and leather arm bands and pierced parts. The deep-voiced leader announced, "I'm first". He straddled my head and planted his skinny ass right on my face. "Kiss my hairy hole, Kevin. That is His command". I did. It wasn't as gross as I would have imagined. I just kissed it like I was kissing the top of my dog's head, but then an urge came over me, and I stuck my tongue up there. I felt my dick rise. "Now you know, Kevin", said a different voice. The leader then moved down and pounded his erect cock on my face. I wanted that dick in my mouth so bad. He eventually put it in my mouth and it was glorious. I thought about reaching up to touch him, but was afraid to. "Go ahead, Kevin", he said softly. Shit -- he was reading my mind now. I felt his ass and his back as he pushed that dick deeper into my throat. I gagged a little, but the others were rubbing my body all over and encouraging me. He pulled the slimy organ from my face and moved away. A couple of the pulled my legs apart (still mindful of my ankle), and then the leader guy was trying to fuck me. He was large for me and so he spit down onto his rod. "Give him a sniff". Then I was inhaling what smelled like diesel fuel from a little bottle. It made me dizzy. And horny. His dick got inside of me. He was possibly a psycho, but very gentle. He worked his way into me inch by inch and that's when the others started chanting again. The leader started chanting nonsense too as he kept thrusting his hips deeper and harder. It hurt "One more sniff, please?", I begged above the chanting. I was obliged instantly. And then the leader growled like a bear and took one final thrust. I'd just lost my virginity to a cult. I received many more inhales and ended up sucking, rimming and getting fucked by all the "monks". A few of them were hot as hell and I enjoyed every second. One guy had a ring through his penis with a ball barbed with sharp spikes. I must have been too lubed or whatever to feel the assault. Somebody (with a Latin accent) spoke up -- "He's bleeding too much, and I'm still worried about that ankle". The next thing I knew, I was in a cozy bed with my wrists bound. I hurt all over. I smelled like cum and the sniffing stuff. One of the big helper guys was sitting in a chair next to me. Still in all black. "Wake up a little and I'll help you to the bathroom. You drink coffee?" He led me to a tiny bathroom where I did my business...painfully. "Where's your car parked?" I tried to remember. I told him about where I thought I'd left it and he immediately left the room. I wasn't in the church anymore. There was a TV and a radio alarm clock with power on. This was somewhere different. The attendant came back. "Where am I? What happened?" "Uh...I'm not supposed to say anything just now". He hesitated a little. "But I'll tell you if you let me cum on your face and don't tell anybody". Deal. "Well, your now one of us. We are a sex cult with an emphasis on spreading AIDS and other diseases. We are commanded by a dark lord you've never heard of. I never knew a purpose until He spoke to me. He'll talk to you soon. And then you'll have a job like mine. Our members off at a regular rate and we move up. You should know that your car has been moved to a random country road. Your family will never see you again. I know that sounds bad now, but you have even more family now. Yeah -- you were bullied that first night, but it's not like that all the time. I love these men and you will too. Your ankle isn't broken, by the way. Just slightly fractured. We got at least three doctors in the group who all checked it out". I feel like I should have been more upset, but no tears would come. "I have to do this, and then I get to do what I want to do". What he had to do was inject me with a syringe of what I guessed was blood. "Is that poz blood?" "Yep. Plus a little extra something for your troubles". He finished and then pulled his pants down. He was already hard and immediately began jerking off. He held the giant, apple-sized head right up to my face. he let it go and a good amount landed on my open eyes. Ouch! It stung and I hissed. "Sorry". He wasn't. And then he let some piss squirt into my hair. "Get some sleep now. The next guy will be in soon, but I'll see you tomorrow". The next several days were a mixture of blood injections, pain meds and various men talking to me gently. In a month or so, I was allowed to move freely about the big house I was in. I was never alone, but had some freedom. I was ultimately given a robe instead of the black garb the helpers wore. I'd moved up the ranks fast because of several deaths among the elite members. My new life as a believer had begun.

Thanks, man!

1999 I was excited, conflicted and scared to death about buying my first house. My dad always told me that a house was a good investment, but I was having doubts. I depleted my bank accounts, spent hours on the phone and signed my name to countless documents. Apartment living had been so easy -- write a rent check once a month and you're done. It was a small, cute house in very good shape, and I only knew about it from a guy I only sorta knew from work. Tony. He lived next door to the property and knew the owner was an old guy about ready to go into assisted living. He came by my office one morning and told me I should jump on it soon. I did. Once everything was finalized, I realized this would mean living next to Tony. He was okay, I guess. My age, not bad looking, friendly -- but talked all the time. He never shut up. I had lunch with him once and managed to finish my food before he'd even taken a bite. I guess I could handle that after living in apartment building where I had to listen to my neighbors' music and smell their cooking. Only after moving in did I realize I didn't really have much furniture. I moved things all around that day, trying to make the place look like it had not just been robbed. I'd need lots of stuff eventually. I had just finished reassembling my entertainment center when the doorbell ring. My first ring in my new home. Of course it was Tony. I opened the door and saw him standing there with a bottle of gin. "Welcome Wagon! I brought you a house-warming present." "Hi, Tony. Come on in." "You look exhausted, man. Take a break." "I don't even have the TV or stereo hooked up yet. And I don't have anything to mix gin with. Maybe we can do this another time." "Nah. We'll just go sit out on the front porch and sip straight from the bottle. This is the good shit. Bombay." One of the things the original owner left behind was an iron bench that set out on concrete porch. We settled there and watched the quiet street and passed the bottle. My mind was racing with all the things I had to get done in the next three days of vacation I'd taken from work. The thoughts got less immediate with each sip. "Cable's coming tomorrow. I need to be up early or else who knows when I'll have TV or the internet." "I'm not going to keep you up too late, Ray. I don't have vacation tomorrow...unless you want me to." What the fuck did he mean by that? I'd always wondered if Tony was gay, but never bothered finding out. He was always just a pest in my mind. After the sun went down and the bottle emptied, I finally just asked him if he was gay. "Yeah. Are you?" "Probably. I'm not sure." "Not sure??? You're what? 26? Pick a side, dude." Quiet. It was early summer and the crickets were singing up a storm in my new yard. He hugged me goodnight and went back to his place. The summer grew hotter and I was finally settled in. I was adjusting pretty well and loving the quiet nights. There was a big stray cat that I fed each morning, and of course Tony was a frequent visitor as well. We arranged another 'drink on the porch night' and I sat listening to him blather on and on about nothing. "So -- you got your internet hooked up, right?" "Oh yeah, Why?" "Just wondered. What kind of stuff do you look at on the computer?" Nosy motherfucker. "Just stuff." "I look at a lot of porn and kinky stuff." I could have guessed as much. "Did you know there's a whole website catering to guys who want to have unsafe sex with other guys. Some of them WANT to get infected with AIDS and some who want to spread it?" "God. Really?" "Yeah. Check it out sometime. When we finally trade email addresses, I'll send you the link for the website. You are going to give me your email, right?" "Sure. Let me go get some paper and a pen." Under the glow of the yellow bug light, we tore the paper in half and exchanged e-mail addresses. Somewhere around the end of July I started noticing Tony's habits. He always just wore gray shorts, no shirt and was barefoot when he went to take out the trash or work in his yard. He even mowed the lawn barefoot...can you believe that? I expected he'd be toe-less by the end of the summer. Why in the world was I so intent on watching him? He wasn't exactly my type. But I loved looking at his almost naked body. One day I was straightening up my 'office' and found the slip of paper on which Tony had written the website of which he had spoken, so I took a minute to check it out. Everything was scary. I read some of the testimonials about sharing blood and semen unprotected. I was half-disgusted, and also fascinated. I kept reading, looking at pictures and watching videos. Is this what what my neighbor was into? I spent hours on that website. It started entering my dreams. The next time Tony came over to watch the baseball game, I told him I'd finally checked out his recommendation. "Well? Hot, isn't it?" I admitted it was. "Do you fantasize about getting AIDS from a man? Or wait -- do you wish you had AIDS to give somebody like I wish I did?" My instinct was to say nothing but I admitted that I fantasized about 'getting pozzed'. "Cool! This is so perfect, Ray. We can pretend. You know, do some role-play." "Hell no." "Come on. This'll be good for both of us and we'll have the fun while still being safe." With that he dropped his shorts and stood in my living room completely naked from the top of his head down to his dirty toes. "N-NO. We can't. Your my neighbor and...just no." He was, however, hardly so easily dissuaded, which was why he was already jerking his impressive penis as he urged "Come on, Ray, suck my poz cock, buddy." What the hell. I knelt down and took it my mouth. Something had been broken inside of me because I wanted this moment so bad. I couldn't even take half of it, but I kept trying to get more. It was hard to breathe as it entered my throat. He was trembling and thrusting and finally came in my mouth. It was so surprising that I loved it. "Yeah...drink up that poz seed. You're going to lick my ass next." After I swallowed, he turned around and parted his cheeks. I darted forward and kissed his anus. I licked around and around and was on auto-pilot. "Good boy. I'll do this to you tomorrow when I fuck your virgin ass at last. Keep lapping it up." And then it was over. I hadn't even realized that I'd cum at some point. My underwear was full of sticky cum. He left. I tried nor to think of it too seriously. After all, what we did was only 'play'. The next evening, I got home just in time for the sky to open, unleashing a deluge of rain. There was some thunder and harsh winds, but no lightning. I got changed and went and sat on my bench, waiting for Tony. He pulled his little red car in my driveway. He ran up to me, took off his clothes and said,"It's a great storm! Let's go play!" He apparently wanted to go run around in the heavy rain, so against my inclination I found myself peeling off all my clothes except for my jockey briefs and off we went, running though the downpour. I guess it was an impromptu game of tag or something like that. We got to the front of a foreclosed home's lawn when he finally tackled me from behind. I went down into the grass and he started mounting me while I was flat on my stomach. "STOP TONY!!! It hurts too much." "I'm getting you all bloody so my death seed will get in you faster." It was just play. So I relaxed as best as I could. I thought it would go on and on, but he finished up. He dumped his fictional infected sperm right up my ass. We were done for the night, but didn't stop playing the game. For weeks we fucked. My bed, his bed, the backyard. Yeah, I knew it was weird, but I could not get enough of him...shooting his seed into my ass. At one point, after several months of play sessions with Tony, we had to take a break as I came down with a nasty case of the flu. Real bad. Or maybe it was food poisoning. Whatever it was, it was definitely to be remembered. Tony kept coming over to check on me while I lay in bed. He would feel my forehead and bring 7-up. "The game is over, Ray." "You're telling me? I don't feel like playing for a long time." "No. The game was over before you ever joined. I've had HIV for three years. I tricked you and I'm really sorry, seeing you like this. I never got the fuck flu." I couldn't believe it. I'd been having unsafe sex with an HIV+ man for months and thinking it was harmless. "I'll never be able to make it up to you, but I need you to know I did it for both of us. I love you." I recovered just fine. He was fine. We were fine. We became a pair. Sometimes we even played like I was still negative.

This is based in part on an actual experience. 1992 You may not know a lot about yourself, (as I don't), but you probably know about your ability to trust. If you grew up in an idyllic small town like I did, you were set up to ultimately have your trust betrayed. I was one of those kids who could go to the park by myself and accept cookies from kindly, old neighbor ladies without a worry. I flourished in that safe environment, then I grew up and went away to school in a big city and got harsh lessons about people: they lie and cheat. Looking back at my early years, I recall a time when I thought adults never lied -- only kids. I got a degree and landed in a pretty big city with a decent job. I was still pretty much a hayseed with no real life experience. I didn't admit to myself that I was gay until the age of 25, but that's all I could do. I lived in an area with a lot of gay bars. They were pretty easy to spot by even the biggest novice. No way could I imagine myself going into one of them. I imagined orgies and chains and leather and could not picture myself going in. Problem was -- I was horny as hell. Late puberty, maybe? But I was ready to go and finally lose my virginity...somehow. There was one of those alternative newspapers around at the time, and it had pages and pages of "men seeking men" classified ads. I pored over each one and even circled a few, but then what? I couldn't see myself actually contacting any of the guys. It would be easier for me to compose an ad and see if anyone would approach me. I did a lot of thinking and writing and rewriting, and came-up with this advertisement. GWM, 25, 5'11", 170. New to everything. I seek a masculine man who enjoys "Kids in the Hall", zombie movies, pinball, talking -- and is not into the whole gay scene. I'm closeted and discreet. The as was published a week later. I didn't go near my phone for days and let my answering machine do all the work. After three days, my machine was full. I rarely drank, but had to have a few beers as I listened to all of them. As shallow as it sounds, I judged first by the voice. If the guy sounded really gay, I'd delete the message. And then I narrowed it down by age and stats. After the week was over, I had a list of exactly three guys who I ranked 1,2,3. The first two guys were both busts. They'd either lied about their age, height, weight or all the above. It was awkward and horrible. The third was the last chance. His voice was deep and manly, and as it turned-out he was a bit shorter than me. He seemed kind of bland, though. We met up at a straight bar where they had awesome burgers and pinball machines. I didn't even dress up, really. I wore a black sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans that were probably a size too small -- but they made my butt look nice. We talked on the phone about an hour ahead and I told me what I'd be wearing. He wasn't sure what he'd be wearing yet, but said he's know me for sure -- especially if I was at a pinball machine. Okay. I got to the bar a bit earlier than the hour on which we had agreed. The bar was more or less empty, except for a softball team celebrating a victory. Getting myself a beer, I parked myself at a pinball game I'd always loved. I was deep into the beer and well on my way to the high score, when I heard a familiar deep voice right behind me. "Tommy?" I let the game ball drop between the flippers and turned around where I found my date, Joe. He hadn't lied about himself at all. He was about 6'1", solid, and blonde. I 've never had a thing for blondes -- give me a dark, swarthy Latin anytime, but he was decently handsome, and we shook hands. "Awfully tight jeans you're wearing, Tommy. Lucky for you I'm a butt man." I didn't have a response to that, so I gave a smile and suggested we sit at an empty table and get him a beer. It wasn't too long after we sat own that he starting with the small talk. We both talked about how weird we felt. "Is the first personal ad you've answered, Joe?" '"Not hardly. You're like my tenth. What about you?" "You're my third one. The first two were not good." "I decided this one would be my last. You're actually cute, which is a big surprise. Most of the others were some form of sea creature, I swear." I thanked him for the compliment and told I likewise thought he was handsome. We drank more beer and chatted about various things. He ordered a shot with each beer and got drunker than I was. "I'll tell you now -- I'm divorced. I was married once and we almost had a kid, but she decided to get it aborted. I also shave my balls." I don't know where this tidal wave of confession was coming from, but I didn't say a word. "Probably the biggest thing you need to know is that I'm HIV positive. You can run right now if you want. I'll pay the tab." I stayed in my chair, stunned and confused. "H-How long?" "About a year. A couple of buddies of mine wanted to make a video of us fucking. I have a pretty big dick and they thought it would get them into the business. We all did a bunch of coke and fucked each other. A month later, I tested positive. What are you thinking?" "I'm sorry. It must be awful." "Not at all. I mean, I feel stupid for agreeing to it, but I feel fine. I'm just lonely." We sat, sipping our drinks. "Want to go somewhere else?" I asked. "Yeah. Your place. That Okay?" Well, we ended up having sex that night because he promised it would be safe. He would pull out before he came, which sounded sensible (at the time). He really did have a big dick and I couldn't wait to get my lips on it. I blew him while he lied on his back, moaning and thrusting his hips upward. "I can't wear a condom. Latex allergy. But I swear I won't cum inside you. You ever done this before?" "No." "Well, this won't go too easy, but let's give it a try." We tried. No way could I take it. The pain was too much. The next night we met at his place. No time was wasted on drinks or small talk, he just pulled me to the bedroom and we stripped. He'd purchased some lube and started greasing up his big red hard-on. "On your back or on your stomach. Your choice." I wanted to be on my back so I could look at his face while he fucked. Then maybe I could tell if he was getting close and alert him to pull out. It began. Slowly, but I could feel the impatience in his hips. He kept pushing and sweating and groaning. Yes, it hurt, but I wasn't going to chicken-out a second time, so I relaxed as much as I could distracted myself by watching his grimacing face. His eyes were squeezed tight, and suddenly I felt good down there. I was even hard. I didn't want this feeling to ever end. His hips were moving faster and faster. I knew by the pacing and his face that he was ready to shoot. "I gotta pull out now, Tommy." But I wouldn't let him. I reached around and held his round butt tight. "No. Keep going!" "I can't....wait. I'm shooting in you now!!!" And then were still and silent. "You're a fucking idiot, sweetheart." He lowered himself back onto the bed and rested. I needed the bathroom badly. I'd suddenly regretted what had happened and wondered if I could squeeze it back out of me into the toilet. Nope. There were a few obscene swirls of blood, but no semen. Once I was done, I opened up his medicine cabinet and saw a whole line of prescriptions. I didn't recognize most of the names. "Come back to bed!" I did. He was apparently exhausted as he almost immediately fell asleep, while I found myself staring at the ceiling as I replayed the experience in my memory. The thing about trust is you never consider that the one person you really shouldn't trust is yourself. Your judgement is all you have. I betrayed it.

(some true details included) I've been a police sketch artist for two years now. It's not anything I started out wanting to do. As a kid,, I was always drawing and my greatest desire was to be a cartoonist at "Mad" magazine. I majored in fine art once I got to college, but there were no cartooning classes. The closest I could come to doing what I loved was get a degree in "visual communication". It turned out that I was pretty good at other kinds of drawing. I excelled at portraits. So my plans were to draw pr paint people's portraits for a living. Or maybe illustrate children's books. But I wound up working for the police department. I knew I'd never get rich or famous, but I'd earn enough to have a decent life. Most of my time was taken up listening to witnesses describe a suspect. If you've ever wondered why the police sketches you see look so vague it's because the witnesses are so vague in their descriptions. It's worse when there are multiple witnesses. You kind of have to mash all their remembered details into one drawing. That was what happened in the case of "The Lewen Park Pervert". Lewen Park was one of our city's nicest neighborhoods. He's pop out in front of joggers or walkers and expose his wiener for a few seconds. Sometimes he'd even jerk off a little. The guy seemed to have no preference about who he flashed. He showed himself to different races of men and women. My work buddy Josh got to do his sketch and I have to say it wasn't very good. Too many witnesses had muddled it all up into a generic drawing of a curly-headed guy with a full beard and dark eyes. It looked like a million characters you've seen on TV or in the movies. Or even just in your day-to-day life. A couple of calls came into the "Tips Hotline", but they were all busts. The case died and other pervs and killers and burglars took over the news. it wasn't until the guy exposed himself to the 18 year old daughter of a prominent family that things heated up again. I was brought in to create a new sketch. One of my drawings had helped catch a rapist and my reputation went up in the department. So then I was in a room with a detective and this "minor" who was not a little kid by far. She was 18 but could have passed for a senior in college. She looked almost my age. Luckily, she was very astute and well-spoken. She really helped me create a good sketch. She knew how to describe features way better than anyone else I'd worked with. I usually worked with just a regular pencil, a good eraser and paper. Some guys used iPads which had just come out a few years ago. I was old school. One of my drawing teachers once told me that a good drawing is a connection from brain to hand to paper. Add ears to that and I was following his advice exactly. Usually the witness sits across from you and talks, but I had this young lady next to me as I drew. She was so good at helping me refine details that I needed her to be part of the connection to paper. We worked together for almost two hours until the moment she saw him. "Oh my fucking God! That's him exactly! It's almost like a photograph!" It was released to the news outlets and the calls poured in. Lots of people had seen him different places, but nobody had a name or an address to go with the face. Another dead end. Even the psychic we sometimes worked with was no help. She was a nice lady named Mary who really seemed to be in touch with other worlds, but maybe she was just crazy. I continued on, sketching crooks and molesters. No shortage of work in my field. I was proud of that Lewen Park Pervert drawing and kept a copy for myself. It would be weird if I got it framed. I guess. What was even weirder is what I did next. I scanned into my computer and used some new software I'd bought to enhance it. I knew from the general report that he was over 6'2", average weight and had a tan complexion. The hair on top of his head was what they called a "Jew-fro" -- gone crazy. His beard made the general shape of his face hard to figure out. I kept fussing with details, and made the tiniest changes here and there. I did this night after night until I was having dreams about him. A week later, I contacted Psychic Mary over to help me. She didn't live far away. She came over with a bottle of wine and a tiny white box that contained a gift for me. It was a pretty blue rock which she told me was Aquamarine. "The stone represents water and has inspired artists for centuries. It represents the ocean of inspiration you have to let wash over you. Keep it near you when you draw". Crazy lady. "Thanks, Mary. I'm getting pretty intent in getting this portrait to a perfect state. I'm sure he's trimmed the beard by now and probably cut his hair. I want this to be accurate". We drank a few glasses of wine as I fiddled with the mouse and the keyboard. She made me turn off the TV because she needed to hear the city. "He's out there still....I need to pick up his vibrations". So crazy. I started erasing the beard little by little. I was almost down to getting rid of it altogether when she told me to stop. "He's kept some of it. Just a little. He's insecure without some facial hair". I'd given her some paper and a pen and whatever she couldn't describe with words, she would draw. I shaped the face as to her specifications "Maybe he's shaved his head completely", I offered. "No. No. He's very hairy and the shaving would be a daily ordeal. He just cut it short. He looks like a Whole Foods customer these days. Very handsome". I'd had enough for one night. I'm not used to wine and needed to go to bed. Mary kept coming over each evening....always bringing wine and a new rock. Aventurine, Amethyst and others. All meant to aid my artistic tasks. We worked that portrait to death. I'd drawn a handsome man indeed. Working color into it was the next step. His hair and goatee were dark brown with tiny traces of red in spots. One night, she wouldn't leave until I got the complexion color just right. Soon -- it was perfect. She touched the screen with two fingers and closed her eyes. "That's him. He's closer than you think, Scott". "How close?" "Way too close. Be careful. He's got a weapon with him and could harm or kill you. I know you're falling in love with him, but try to get past that. His name is Pete, by the way." And then she wobbled out the door. I saved several copies of the file and even used a filter to turn one of them into what looked like an oil painting. I printed that one and had it framed. I hung it my bedroom and looked at it as I fell asleep. My Pete. I'd have so many dreams about him. The most disturbing one was where I was a woman and pregnant with his child. I took the portrait down and got away from the computer for awhile. I started walking every evening after work. There was a park nearby, but I didn't go there. I just walked around the neighborhood. One evening around dusk I saw a man come out of his house with a trash bag. He set it at the curb and started waling back. It was HIM! "Hey!" He stopped. Looked my way and waved, confused. "Do I know you?" "You're Pete, right?" "Yes". "I'm Scott. Scotty. We met at Dan's thing, Remember?" (I knew from my job that everybody knew a 'Dan') "Oh yeah! How you been?" "Good. Just taking a walk". "Want to come in, have a beer and finish watching the game. We're down 6 to nothing in the 8th inning" "Sure". We got inside. I'd gotten the face perfect, but his build was larger than I would have guessed. A little taller, a little heavier. His home was cozy and dark. I remembered what Mary had said about him having a weapon. Most home owners were armed in one way or another. We settled on his couch and he kept serving us beers. The game was over. Our team had been slaughtered. He muted the TV and put on some mellow music. He kicked off his sandals and leaned back. "So when exactly did we meet?" I finished the beer. "We've met before, sort of. But not in the way you'd think". "What do you mean?" "Been to Lewen Park lately?" His face showed pure shock. "i...I....How?" "I'm a sketch artist for the police department. I know faces I've drawn pretty well. Why in the world did you expose yourself to a teenager?" He paused and gulped the rest of his beer. "I didn't know who she was until I saw the news report and the sketch. Are you going to turn me in?" "No. I took an oath when I joined the force, but I've also used the Lord's name in vain many times. Which is worse?" He relaxed a little and studied me closer. "Why did you do it? Do you still do it?" "The thrill. It would make me so horny to show of my dick. I'd rush home and beat off furiously every time". "Hey -- we all have our kinks. Just don't do it anymore. Please. You'll accidentally show your junk to a minor some day and that'll be a whole new level of shit. He nodded and we continued to drink beer and listen to the sleepy music. "I haven't done it since that rich chick saw me. But O gotta tell you, Scotty -- I get the urge constantly. I sleep with a boner every night". "Well expose yourself to me". "You're sure? Will you help me get off after I do?" "I'm looking forward to it". "OK. Here you go...." He pulled down his sweats and I saw his stiff and cut hard-on jutting straight out into the air. He watched me watching it. "Come suck it". As I knelt between his knees, he stopped me. "You're a 'law and order' man, right? Well then you also know about consequence. Everything you do fro here on will have some sort of consequence". I ignored his words and started slobbering on the huge tool. He was so worked up that he shot his load as deep into my mouth as he could get. I loved it and wanted to do it again and again. But he was spent for the night. I left my phone number on his kitchen table. Not even 24 hours had passed before he called and asked me to come over again. "Just walk right in, I'll be in the kitchen making mojitos. Ever had one? They're great". I was there in a flash. I walked in, and sure enough -- he was in the kitchen making sweet-smelling drinks. He was only wearing sweatpants. No shirt, socks or shoes. "Hey. How was work?" "Same. Nothing exciting". I could hear baseball coming from the living room so I went there and sat down. "He came in, carrying two glasses with a mint leaf garnish. They were really good and I felt the effects pretty fast. He was a pusher and kept them coming. I sat and drunkenly watched our team lose again. "Scotty -- come in here for a second". I went into the kitchen, and he was completely naked, jerking his fat meat. I smiled and that made him harder. I took my position and swallowed his load again. This pattern kept repeating. He'd surprise me with his boner randomly and I'd suck him off. He called again only ten hours later and wanted me to come over again, but I had a different idea. "Why don't you come to my place tonight. No booze. Just a little TV,maybe a movie." "Perfect". I repeated my address and he was knocking at my door within minutes. I showed him around my small place and he made various comments about my stuff. We sat on my couch and drank iced tea. We watched "A League of Their Own" which was one of my top five favorites. He crossed his leg and his bare sole was inches from my knee. It was a very big, boxy foot. I reached over and started massaging it. "Oh God! That feels good. Will you do them both?" He swung his legs into my lap and I went to work. He moaned and begged me to suck his toes. I did. For a long time. "Thanks. I need to go pee". He left and I wondered about what was coming next. "Scotty! Your toilet is overflowing!" Oh shit. Of course that would happen now. It was the weekend and I'd have to pay a plumber double. I rushed into the bathroom and Pete was there jerking his boner. The plumbing was fine. "Let's go!" "Come to my bed. Let's mix things up a little". He followed me and we lied down on top of the comforter. "Ever fucked a guy?" I asked. "A few times". "Well I want you to get off inside of me". "Suck me while I tell you story. Go on -- get your mouth on this thing". I did. Slowly. He talked. "When I was 17, I was in a nasty motorcycle accident. I was messed up pretty bad and needed several surgeries. It was a university hospital and the doctors were good. BUT. But I got a blood transfusion that gave me HIV. I've lived with it for over ten years, Still want me to fuck you?' "I want it, Pete". "Remember how I warned you of consequences? If you don't remember, you're about to get reminded". He got behind me and pulled up on all fours. "Got any lube?" "No". "Just relax then. I can't stop once I stop". And he didn't. He just pushed slowly, inch by inch. I'd never felt like pain like this. I tried to scream, but he pushed my face into the pillow. Another inch. And another. He'd pause to give me a chance to get used to it. By the time I wasn't in agony anymore, he was all the way in. It still hurt, but some pleasure crept up my spine. He picked up the pace and then lost control, going wild. Going faster and faster until he stopped. "Consequences, Baby". He kissed me and then went to sleep. We either did that or I sucked him for a month...until I got the flu really bad. We ultimately moved into together. I finally showed his the framed picture of him, and he was amazed. We continued to be a mystery to each other, but good for each other at the same time. Whenever we weren't together, it felt like a piece of me was missing. He never got in trouble again.

A few years ago, I read that semen taken internally can improve a woman's mood. I don't know if the effects are similar for men, but I think we can all agree that semen is a wonderful thing!

November 2001 I grew up in a smallish town in the middle of Oklahoma. The name doesn't matter because they're all pretty much the same. My dad was a contractor and my mom was a housewife and took care of me and my little brother. We went to church but only because everybody else did. They didn't force religion on us and were actually pretty liberal compared to our neighbors. I know for a fact they both supported Al Gore for President even though our state went red on election night. When it was my time to go to college, I picked a university in a Northern state where I knew there'd be more open-minded people. I loved it there and was doing well. No major yet, but I was thinking about trying for a degree in biology. The only bad part about my new location was that I had to drive home a few times a year for holidays. Mom was big on the big two: Thanksgiving and Christmas. When you drive through Nebraska and Kansas in a cold season, you pretty much know what a "Nuclear Winter" will look like. Everything is empty and dead. No life. I only had the company of other holiday travelers on the highway to remind me the world hadn't ended just yet. I brought along the cheeriest CD's I owned. B-52's and a Book of Love were my favorites. I'd memorized every word to every song, but it sure beat country & western, Christian music or talk radio where a bunch of old guys argued about when we should nuke the Middle East. 9/11 had happened only a few months ago and the belligerent patriotism really blossomed in this part of the country. Myself -- I was entirely sure it was a trick to get us into yet another war. I let endless repeats of "Love Shack" get me in a better mood. The scenery got much worse when I crossed the Kansas/Oklahoma border. Northern Oklahoma is spectacularly ugly. The dirt is red for reasons I learned about once but had already forgot. It was all corroded and rusted like some wrecked pickup in a scrap yard. At least they took care of the highways here. The state government was hopelessly conservative and corrupt but at least they could patch a pothole within minutes of it appearing. Up ahead I saw a guy standing on the shoulder of the road. Hitchhiker. I'd watched enough horror movies to know that you should never, ever pick up a person hitchhiking. Those stupid kids in "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" would still be alive if they hadn't stopped to give that one crazy guy a ride. As I got closer, I noticed that he looked mostly harmless. He was young, large-framed, bearded and appeared to be from the Mideast. In fact, he looked like one of the original hijackers they kept showing on CNN. No wonder he hadn't gotten a ride yet. As I passed him, I noticed he was wearing nothing but a denim jacket which was not enough to fight the cold of an approaching November night. I should have picked him up. He could freeze to death before any of the good Christians around here gave him a ride. Or he could get beaten up or maybe shot. This was gun country after all. I took the next exit and circled back around to get him. The fact that he was handsome had nothing to with it. Really. He lumbered up to my car with his backpack and a big smile. I let him in the passenger side. "Thanks! It's getting cold out there". "Where are you headed?" "San Antonio. How far you going?" "Just a few hundred miles South, but that'll get you a little closer, I guess." "Perfect. My name is Joe. My family is from Cuba and I need to go live with them after my adventures out West". "Nice to meet you, Joe. I'm Brice. What kind of adventures did you have?" "Mostly the bad kind. I went there to make it as screenwriter but everybody in L.A. already has a screenplay to sell. I was homeless for awhile and got into drugs and hustling. I burnt myself out and called Mama and begged to come home. Bad times". I turned up the heat because he was shivering. Only problem with that was that it enhanced his body odor in the car interior. He knew this. "I need a shower so badly". An idea came to me from out of nowhere. "Well, let's get a motel room somewhere. I'm getting tired of driving anyway. I've been on the road for almost nine hours". "You sure? I don't want to keep you from your plans". "I'm sure. I could fall asleep at any time and kill us both in a crash". "That would be so great. You're a nice guy, Brice". There was a billboard for a Super 8 motel coming up at the next exit. Bakersville. Ugh. I think I'd been here once. Let's just say it didn't make much of an impression. The parking lot was a little crowded. I'd forgotten a holiday was coming. Would there be any rooms available. There was one left, but it only had one bed. You take what you can get, I guess. Joe and Walked in and he was so happy with the warmth of the room that he didn't even notice there was only one bed. He lamented that he didn't have any clean clothes to change into. I'd brought way too many extra clothes with me and offered him the basics. "They'll probably be small on you, but it's the best I can offer". "Thanks. Are you from heaven or something?" "Not even close. My mom can wash your dirty stuff when we get there tomorrow". He was showering for a long time. I needed to call home. "Hello?" "Hi, Dad". "What's wrong? Are you OK??" "I'm fine. I just got so sleepy that I decided to pull into a motel and sleep here for the night". "Smart boy. I'l tell your mother". "I'm bringing a friend if that's alright". "A young lady?" "No. Just a friend who had no place to go for Thanksgiving". "Well, that'll be just fine. Your mother has made way too much food for us anyway". "See you tomorrow, Dad". The shower finally shut off, but he didn't emerge for a good ten minutes. He stepped out wearing my clothes which were comically small on him. He looked really good anyway. "Everything's a little tight, but I just couldn't get my big, stupid feet into the tube socks you gave me. Here", he said as he tossed them in my direction. "Hungry?" "Oh God Yes!!!" "Well there's no cafe here and I doubt there's a restaurant open anywhere in this town. Let me go get you some stuff from the vending machine". "Seriously? I would appreciate that so much. I'll find something on TV while you do that". I had so many dollar bills and quarters from paying tolls on the highways. I got him three chewy granola bars, a bag of popcorn, some chips, a Snickers bar and two Cokes. When I got back to the room, he was on the bed in just the undersized underwear I'd lent him. He was moderately hairy and that huge bulge in the tight underwear was very noticeable. I presented the loot I'd just purchased and he devoured everything quickly. Poor guy probably hadn't eaten for a long time. "That shower felt so good", he said while chewing, "I almost didn't want to get out. So I'm going to meet your family tomorrow? I wish I had something nicer to wear. Or at least a better pair of shoes. You didn't happen to bring any size 15 loafers with you, did you?" "No. Sorry. You won't be judged. My family is cool". I opened my Coke and took a sip. "Not so fast there, Brice. I got something to help that taste better. He reached into his backpack and produced a fifth of Captain Morgan's rum. I'd never had rum before. "Thanks, Where'd you get this?" "Last guy who gave me a ride was wasted and just gave it to me for no reason. Nice dude. This was in a town right outside of Wichita". "So I ad it to the Coke?" "Yeah. Drink a little and then keep adding it as the can gets less full". I did just that....and so did he. The TV was showing "Ordinary People" which was a movie I'd seen several times and loved. I was explaining the subtle performances to him when I noticed he was wearing cologne. ! Did he seriously have cologne in his pack? "You smell good -- is that cologne?" "Just a little. I like to not smell like the road sometimes". It was getting to me. I was in bed with a hot man with a probably big penis who smelled sexy. I stripped down to just my underwear and lied down next to him. His big feet blocked the right half of the screen, but I had memorized the movie already. I realized my soda can was empty already. So I just took swallows from the bottle. I was feeling magical. Tired, but magical. He took the bottle and kept it. "Can I tell you something, Brice?" "Sure. If you let me have one more sip from the bottle". He gave it to me. That last swallow was the end for me. No more. "I want to make love to you right now. What do you think of that?" "I guess I was hoping you would want that. I want that. But I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to that". "I'm not done talking, Brice. I have no condoms with me, but I do have a disease that could go into you if we had sex. Tell me what we should do." I was sleepy and buzzed, but I knew what he was talking about. "Let's do this, Joe". "Call me Jose. That's my given name. And slide down to the bottom of the bed. And relax". I shimmied down until my bare butt was right there in the open. "There was lotion in the bathroom and I'm going to put some around your hole. And on my hard dick. Just lie still for a second. His huge fingers worked my asshole good with the slimy fluid. He stopped and I assumed he was coating his big Cuban dick as well. And then came the time. He put that head right into my ass. It wasn't so bad, but then it got painful as he moved in farther. I gasped but didn't yell. He kept going in. Deeper. It felt like I was breaking apart down there, but I didn't try to stop it. He was ruining me for good, and I was happy to let him. "Jose". "It's coming. No turning back for anybody now". He slammed into me rapidly and then stood still. He was cumming. I wish I could say I felt his dirty cum pulsate in my guts, but I didn't. He let out a long breath. "Get comfortable, Brice. It's almost midnight and you need rest. And, thank you." I was a little sore. But so tired. The TV was still on, but Jose muted it. I drifted off immediately. He said some words, but I didn't really hear them. Sleep. The next time I was aware of the world was almost 9 am in the morning. Jose had walked in with an arm of folded laundry. "I sweet-talked a maid into washing all our clothes. She even sprayed some super disinfectant into my shoes. We can hit the road whenever you're ready. We spent Thanksgiving at my house and ate and ate. Jose told part of his story, and my dad gave him bus money to San Antonio. I hadn't wanted that. I wanted him to come back with me and be my husband. But that's not what we happened. He promised to come visit me sometime soon, but I was still sad. I drove back home two days later. The red earth looked worse than it ever had.

The Early 90's I know everybody has a friend that they don't quite remember ever wanting as a friend. But a best friend? Ethan was technically my best friend, but mostly I just put up with him. We met at a party a few years ago. This was back when I had to force myself to socialize. I was new to the city and barely 23. I would have much rather stayed home, gotten stoned and played Nintendo. In an effort to meet people and not be a hermit, I did volunteer work. I was involved with Planned Parenthood, a few homeless shelters and also an gay activism group. I almost dropped out of that last one because it was so full of politics and egos. Because I was new and considered just a "kid", I was relegated to the back of the room -- at a table full of newspapers that I was supposed to scan for any mention of homosexual news and then cut them out with scissors. It was tedious. The only fun part was that when the phone rang, there was a battle among about three people on who would answer it. Through all of these outside activities, I did manage to meet a few people. One of them invited me to a party he was throwing. I had a beer and did my best to mingle, but I wasn't very good at it. I found myself in the kitchen which is where things were usually livelier. And they were that night. The center of attention was this tall, reddish-blonde guy who had apparently insulted somebody else and was trying his best to defend himself. I found an open space to stand and looked on with interest. The guy defending himself immediately looked at me and said "You! What's your name?" "Joey" "I'm Ethan. Come here..." I went and stood awkwardly next to him. "Look at this guy", he demanded, pointing at a chubby gray-haired man sitting at a kitchen table. Judging by his angry expression, I guessed him to be the insulted one. "All I said is that he should dress like Ursula The Sea Witch... you know, from "The Little Mermaid" for Halloween. Is that 'mean'?" I should have stayed home. "Well. That could be fun. Or maybe a vampire." Unwittingly, I had just diffused the whole scene and everybody broke up into little group conversations. Ethan pulled me aside and said, "Thanks, Joey. I knew it was probably going to offend him as I said it. I talk too much and my filters don't always work". "No problem. Get those filters fixed and you'll be fine". "I will. And now that we're friends I know you'll help me talk less and listen more". He took my hand and led me around the party, introducing me to random people as his "best friend Joey". I didn't really get a chance to talk to anybody because Ethan was always chattering in my ear. I'd had exactly one beer the whole evening and needed something stronger. "Hey Ethan -- can you get me a vodka tonic or something close?" "Absolutely. Wait right here, buddy". A woman in her forties came up from behind me and introduced herself as Lucille. She did work with the quilt project and seemed genuinely nice. "Watch out for that guy. I'm almost certain he has a form of autism. Or some disorder. He's unstable". Right then Ethan approached with my drink. "Oh, go gossip among the other hens, Lucy". He wasn't pleased she was talking to me. The vodka tonic was bigger and stronger than I had wanted, but I needed it. "Finish that and we'll leave". "And go where?" "It's Friday night and I want to hit at least one club". "Well you go ahead. I've had a long week at work and just want to go home and sleep".e "That's nuts. You're young and need you to help me look for my perfect guy".c The drink was really strong. He brought me another which was just as good. Well, now I really didn't have much of a choice but to let him drive me out of here. he was my best friend after all. We got to his car and sat for a few seconds. "So where are we going, Ethan? And what kind of guy is your 'perfect guy'?" "Let's go to Chub's. It's close. I'm looking for a young, innocent guy who's in good shape. Someone trusting. Someone exactly like you, actually." "Huh?" "Serious. I would want to hook up with you if we weren't best friends. Not now anyway. Let's just go and keep your eyes out for people exactly like you, OK?" "OK". The place was fairly full, but not annoyingly so. We sat next to each other at the rectangular bar. Ethan paid for two drinks and two shots. He put his hand on my knee several times as we continued to chat. He finished his drink and announced he was going to go circle the place and start his search. I sat alone for a bit and than was chatted up by this older black guy who asked me why I was here with 'that Ethan character'. "No idea. I just met him at a party. He's not so bad". In a flash, Ethan was back. He stood between me and the other guy -- who abruptly left. "Your turn. Look for someone exactly like you. If you find a guy for you, that's ok too". He'd bought a pack of cigarettes and offered me a lit one. What the hell? I got up to make the rounds with a full drink and a cig. I sure didn't see many guys my age. The ones most like me didn't look so much innocent as they did predatory. I was drunk and didn't want to cruise for him any more. I got back to where Ethan was and told him I needed to go home. "Yeah. This is place is full of the usual suspects. I've seen them all and they've seen me". We went back to my tiny apartment and Ethan made himself comfortable right away. He took off his big shoes. and plopped on the couch. He tried to turn on the TV, but I wanted to be alone and sleep. I could not figure out to tell him. "Ethan.... "Yeah?" "That TV is hooked up to my Nintendo. The TV I watch shows on is in my bedroom, but...." "OK. Let's go." He found it on his own. I was stuck with him for the night. He'd already removed his socks and his jeans. "Wait! You need to know that we aren't going to have sex. OK? I'm tired and just not into you at all. No offense". "Of course we're not going to do anything. We're best friends. Let me just crash here tonight and I'll take you back to your car in the morning". "That'd be great'. The TV was still off. After getting undressed I got in bed next to him. We were both laying face up. "You're a virgin, Joey. Am I right?" "I suppose". "I want an innocent virgin guy who looks decent and trusts me....because I have this certain fetish". "What?" "I have HIV and want to give my strain to a pure boy. I want to so badly. I got a girl pregnant in college and she dropped out. I figure she'd probably had an abortion, but who knows? I love the idea of changing someone on the inside. After that I tried to knock up as many sluts as I could...until I realized I liked men better. And at some point, I got infected". I was silent and staring at the end of his bed. His large toes were flexing and curling as he talked. "I know it's weird. I don't really understand it myself. What are you thinking?" I was so drowsy. "I think you need Jesus". We laughed. "Thanks for letting me get all that out". He kissed me on the cheek and then rolled over to sleep. I was already halfway to a dream that was waiting for me. Over the course of the night, Ethan kept rolling my way and I could feel the huge bulge in his briefs. A few times it was rock hard. When we woke in the morning, he had an arm draped around me. After that night, Ethan was in my life for good. He moved into my building and was always around. He brought pizza or wine or a video every time he came by. I flat out told him I wouldn't go to bars with him anymore. He had to that on his own. It was a relief not to have to deal with him for a whole evening, but he'd usually show up before going to see what he was wearing and give my stamp of approval. I'd give him a good look-over. He was pretty hot. Tall, good build and handsome. The only issue with his face was his glasses. He must need a prescription because the lenses made his look smaller and changed the shape of his head. If I'd mentioned that, he wouldn't go out. I'd mention contacts another time. "You know I wouldn't have to go through with this if you'd just let me breed you. Then I could be happy at last". "Just go. You look great." This became a nightly thing for a few months. He never found his perfect mate. Then he got the idea in his head that if he worked out at a gym he'd attract more flies to his web. So after that, he'd drop by to flex for me and ask about his progress. I liked it. His shoulders were wider and his arms looked amazing. At some point, somebody else must have mentioned the thing about his glasses because he got contacts. It made a big difference. He'd drop by and I found myself just staring into those eyes as he blathered on and on. Now that he was all buff he started wearing tank tops which suited him very well. He'd stop by for an appraisal before heading to the bars. "You are looking so good tonight, Ethan. You should try that bath house over on Strode St. You will be mobbed by admirers". "Been there?" "No. But I see their ads in the day newspaper all the time". "I've gone there twice. Everybody there is infected or will be soon. I can't believe you want to send your best friend to a goddamned bath house instead of just letting me fuck you". "You'll have fun. Just don't think about your fetish so much. Or pretend each guy you fuck is a virgin". "Fine. See you tomorrow". I was glad he left because I wanted to get high and listen to the new Depeche Mode CD I'd purchased. It was so good. I got so stoned while listening. I tried playing Nintendo for awhile, but I was just too blasted at that point. I lied on my back and let the music wash over me. Ever notice how personally meaningful songs become when you're extremely stoned? "Personal Jesus" meant something so deep at that point. As did "Enjoy the Silence". Hell, I could have listened to The Archies and found nirvana at that point. I blissed out and slept on the floor for a minute or two. KNOCK. KNOCK. Oh fuck. Ethan. I had to find the door before I could let him in. The music was still blaring when he made his way over to the stereo and turned it down. "Goddamn, Joey. You can smell weed through the whole hallway. Is that why you wanted to get rid of me? So you could get fried?" "How was the bath place, Junior?" "Junior? You are so fucked up. Where's your stash? I want to be on your level". I gave it to him. He rolled a giant fat joint and lit it. We shared it, but I let him have most of it. I was past Jupiter already. I have some memory of him carrying me to bed and getting in next to me. i was cold and pulled the blanket over us. I turned and slept with my cheek on his shoulder. The last thing I remember is smelling his deodorant. And then just dreams. It was somewhere around dawn when I woke up. I needed hydration badly. I slipped out of bed and realized I was completely naked. I never slept naked. I went to the kitchen and drank a big glass of water. When I got back to bed I saw Ethan was still sleeping and I crawled back beside him. I was horny as hell at that point. Still sleepy, but hard as a rock. I got close to him and reached my hand down to caress his bare ass. He didn't stir. I then reached for his dick. It was soft, but got a little harder and heavier the longer I kept rubbing it. Still he slept. The mood had passed for me and I decided to try and go back to sleep. Too late. He'd woken up and pretty much had a sense of what I'd been doing. "Was I dreaming, Joey? My dick is so hard right now and I think it's because you were massaging it. Am I right?" I'd been caught. Whatever. I wanted to sleep now. "You were dreaming, Ethan". "No. No I wasn't. Do it some more. Please?" I didn't move. I pretended to make deep breathing sounds like I was asleep. But he wasn't fooled. He turned me around and kissed me hard. The lamp was on. He was so handsome and affectionate. I met the force of his kiss and put some intensity into it. And then he was on top of me. We kissed madly like we were in the movies or something. "I'm so in love with you, Joey." "No. You're just horny. That's not love". "OK. I'll prove my love. Even though I've wanted to fuck you for two years now, I'm going to stop. Ill just beat off and let you sleep. This was my chance and I'm letting it go because you mean so much to me". He was sincere. He'd always been sincere...ever since I met him. I could hear him jerk off. I told him to stop. "Why?" "Because I want you to fuck me, Ethan. I want to have your seed inside of me'. "Are you sure?" "Yes. Because I love you too. I guess in a way I always have. Just please go easy". "Well, it will be a little painful for you, but I'll help out when I can". I was ready. I think. He spread my legs wide apart and positioned himself and his cock just right. "When you first feel my cock enter you, just push out your asshole like you're taking a shit. The more relaxed you are the better. Here we go". It hurt no matter how much I tried to "push out". I also knew you couldn't try to relax. You either were or weren't. Meanwhile, he's gotten an inch or two into me. He leaned down and kissed me. The kissing relaxed or got me hot enough for him to get all the way in. "Yeah! Joey! I'm going to finally breed you!" He just kept thrusting like a machine and kissing my mouth. I grabbed his butt as his jabs got more violent. "Here it comes, baby. I'm infecting you and changing you....forever." He was suddenly motionless as he unloaded his toxic sperm into my formerly-virgin ass. He rolled over on his back and let out a long sigh. He'd done what he'd always wanted to do. We were so exhausted that we slept until almost noon. Another month went by and we got an apartment together. I went to the local clinic and got tested. HIV-. "That just means we have to keep trying", he announced. And we did. We fucked every night. A month later I got tested again. Still negative. Month after month with no infection. We stopped worrying about it and just enjoyed each other. I learned how to love eating his ass and he decided he loved having his toes sucked. We were happy. And then I came home from the clinic with a positive HIV test. We celebrated and Ethan even shed a tear or two.

2002 Has there ever met someone that you instantly hated for no good reason? For me that person was Matt. "Matt" was what he went by, but his real name was 'Ahmat" or something like that. He was from the Middle East somewhere. He was hired by my boss to work on our staff and I hated him from the first day. I didn't know why exactly. I wasn't in the grips of hate for the Middle East that had struck our country after 9/11 and was further inflamed by the Bush administration. I was, and always will be, a bleeding heart liberal. Maybe it was because he was my age and I'd always been the youngest guy in my department -- I was 'The Boy Wonder'. Possibly it was his dark good looks that intimidated me. I wasn't a bad-looking man, but Matt was smoldering. Seriously. The guy had a gorgeous five o'clock shadow at 11 am. I hadn't grown up enough to recognize how destructive jealousy can be. Or maybe it was because he was cordial and well-liked by everybody. I just decided he was 'arrogant'. I was certain he thought he was better than me in every way. So I hated him. Hated everything about him. He had a cellphone and I didn't. He dressed fashionably and I was super casual. Every time he tried to make small talk with me, I'd just glare at him and answer with one or two words. He seemed a bit confused by my hostility because I was pals with most everybody else in the office. Eventually he gave up trying to get to know me. I would just stew in hatred every single time I saw him. I was in therapy back then and I brought the subject of Matt to her. She agreed that some of it was envy, but she brought up something I'd never thought of... "Often, hate is irrational. Sometimes we hate a person because we recognize some aspect of ourselves in. Maybe there's something you hate about yourself that you see in Matt". I didn't dismiss the idea, but he and I shared nothing in common except our age. I kept thinking of her words and trying to work it out for myself The dismal holiday season was approaching and our boss had decided we needed to have a Christmas gathering. Ugh. I hated forced mirth. But at least there would be free booze. We all met up at a martini bar after work one cold night and the mood had been generally light that whole day. So I was happy because I didn't think people from the Middle East could drink alcohol or even be around it so Matt wouldn't be there. All twelve of us settled at a large table in this trendy place. I'd never had a martini before, but wanted to try one. Nobody had warned me how powerful they were or told me to sip them and not chug them like beer. I got really happy really fast. We were all laughing and having a decent time when Matt walked in. Of course he had a really nice, stylish coat and was dressed up. He was wearing these expensive -looking leather shoes -- with no socks. What the hell? It was December. My mood declined when he sat right across from me. It was the only open chair. Bummer. He ordered a martini and was his usual popular self with all our coworkers. I sulked and stewed. Most of the guys I worked with had families and so the party kept getting smaller as people left. And then it was just the two of us left. I ordered two more martinis while he was still working on his first. That made me irrationally angry. Well, self-control wasn't the thing we had in common. He didn't even notice we were the only ones left because he was constantly on his goddamn cellphone. Talking quietly in his whatever language. He held a pinkie in his non-phone ear to block out the noise from other people. Arrogant. When he finished his conversation he looked around and noticed it was just us left. He felt as awkward as I felt drunk. I needed to order a Coke or something to sober up. I only lived a few a few streets over, but this town had an abundance of cops. A DUI would really wreck the night. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a soda. "Don't like martinis so much?" He actually spoke to me. I was feeling a tug-of-war between surprise and anger. "Actually too much. I've had five already". He smiled brilliantly. Perfect white teeth of course. "Here. Finish mine. I have a bad stomach and it's giving me fits right now". I had a roll of Tums in my pocket and offered him a couple. He chewed them appreciatively. I went back and forth from the soda the waitress brought and his mostly full martini. The tension was gone and he looked right at me. "Can I ask you something?" I was preparing myself for what I knew he was going to ask. "Why do you dislike me so much?" "I've been trying to figure that out" I said, staring down at the table "Maybe I just don't like how arrogant you are". "What? How?" "You think you're so perfect. You dress better than anybody and look perfect and are good at everything. You probably have a perfect life". I was drunk for sure. There was silence and I expected him to leave. "You really think I have a perfect life? Seriously?" Thank God it was Friday. I had the whole weekend to forget this exchange of words. On Monday I could just go back to hating him like normal. "Want to know who I was on the phone with?" He was so beautiful. "Your girlfriend?" "No. My mother who I live with. She has bone cancer and is going through chemo. She doesn't speak English and I'm the only person in the world she has to talk to". "Oh. Sorry". "You think I have a perfect life? I'm the only child of two immigrants from India. I was a baby when we got here. My dad dropped dead when I was three and we were so poor and then homeless for a year. My Mom did her best to find work and make sure I went to school. We scrapped and saved and survived. I bet your childhood was better". I looked down, ashamed. "Yeah". "Once I was old enough, I worked any terrible job I could find. I was 19 when I first started whoring". Whoa. i sucked as a human. "Yeah. I was out on the streets of St. Louis every single night. I caught every disease you can name. My health isn't so great now and I take about nine pills a day. I like to dress up because I feel like nice clothes because I feels like it disguises my past. Hides me". I lowered my head and felt so much shame. Instinctively, I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "I'm so, so sorry". "Now I've got a good job and my only living relative is dying. How's that for 'perfect'?" I looked up and saw that he was looking right at me. We'd avoided eye contact for so long that I forgot how extremely handsome this man was. "I apologized. I'll be different now. I'll be nice". I realized my voice sounded like a child's. I needed to leave now. I stood up and wobbled a little. "Let me drive you home. You're a little out of it". "Please". He led me out into the cold night, with his arm around my back. We got to his car -- which was way more modest than I would have ever guessed. It was junk, basically. Who knew? We got in and before either of us could fasten our seat belts, we started kissing. Maybe it was the booze or the intimacy of the conversation, but we made out for a good ten minutes right there in the parking lot. His stubble had rubbed my lips raw and his mouth tasted like some sort of paradise. There was an eventual stopping point. The heat had kicked on and he had talk radio on. "My mom always played talk or sports on the radio to help me speak English better". "I'd like to meet her". "Really? I'd love that! We're not far from our house. She's probably still awake, but she might not be feeling well right now. We can check and maybe watch TV or something". "Great". Were we boyfriends now? I had no experience at anything like this. I'd just had my first kiss five minutes ago. "Are you warm enough?" "Yeah. Why don't you ever wear socks?" He laughed. "You're drunk. And very American. We're always barefoot at home and I just hate wearing shoes, let alone socks. You grew up on a farm, right?" "Yeah. How did you know?" "Oh, I've asked around. I wanted to know more about you and what you were all about". Wow. I wondered what he heard, but we were suddenly at his house. It was very small and in a kind of crappy neighborhood. He parked in the crumbling driveway and insisted on getting out first and helping me up to the door. He nuzzled my neck a little. We kissed again for a few seconds and then he unlocked the door. I smelled garlic right away. I mean it had soaked into everything. Or maybe the smell was curry. Didn't Indian people eat lots of curry? I was such a hick. Matt kicked off his shoes right away. His feet were so hairy. I stood there dumbly with my coat still on. "Let me have your coat. She's got the thermostat on really high. I'll go see if she's still awake". I stood there in the front room and looked around. Everything was so neat and yet kind of chaotic at the same time. It seemed foreign. Barefooted Matt came back and said "She's passed out, but her breathing is good and steady". I smiled. "Good". "We can go watch TV in my room if you want". "OK" "At least take off your shoes. It's weird to see shoes in this house". So I stepped out of my loafers and arranged them neatly by the door. He led me to his room and I noticed it was small. Very small. My childhood bedroom was bigger. He clicked the television on, and It was that stupid comedy channel where they never show anything comical at all. He turned the volume way down. The TV was the only light we had which was fine by me. I was sure my eyes were red...and his were so beautiful. "Well, I'm going to get comfortable". He then stripped down to nothing. He was the hairiest man I'd ever seen. I could barely see his dick through all the bush he had down there. I guess he saw me looking. "Why don't you get naked too, Farm Boy". So I did. And then we laying on his twin bed, on top of the covers because it was so warm in here. I was lost. Where was this going? I wondered if I should do something or just try to sleep or watch whatever shit was on. He answered for me by climbing on top of me. He just stayed there and we looked at each other. God, he was hairy! And we was sweaty. He stretched out one arm and turned a bedside lamp. "I want you to see and remember everything about tonight. Promise you're not too drunk to remember this". "I'm good, Matt". "We'll see". He kissed me and ground his hips on mine for a long time. I felt his big boner and really wanted to see it. All of this was new. "If you really want me to see everything, you'll show me that dick of yours". He spread his knees and sat up. There it was. "Glorious" is the only word I had. It was beautiful like the rest of him. Not huge or anything, but very healthy-sized and hard as a rock. At first I thought he was uncut, but he wasn't....the doctor had just left him with a nice amount of foreskin. Or maybe he was. I had never seen another dick this close before. "You like?" "Can I kiss it?" He got lower and I took the head in my mouth. He didn't force anything at all. He left it up to me to suck as much of it as I wanted. He said something foreign under his breath and groaned. I was actually do this right. Amazing. I took him deeper and grabbed his perfect ass to let him know that he could take over. Oh boy, did he. He was riding my mouth for a while and getting more forceful. I wondered if he would ejaculate and wondered if I really wanted him to. And then he lifted away from me. "I don't want to cum anywhere near you, Farm Boy. We should stop now. We'll jerk off together or something". I pulled him back down to me and we kissed. Then I urged him up higher so I could have his butt on my face. I just wanted that. Badly. "Not the greatest idea, kid". I didn't listen to him. I pushed my lips up between his cheeks and planted a big kiss on his hole. He started to hesitate, but I held his legs and knew it was feeling good to him. And then he gave up and started to hump my mouth with his ass. I used my tongue and passion to guide his pleasure. I knew I what was doing somehow. He started moaning and muttering words in his language. But then it stopped. "We can't go any further!" "What if I want to?" "We can't because I have AIDS, you dumb hick!" "I'm not dumb". "Sorry. I just want to protect you. You're green and don't know anything". "I know I want you to make love to me". "No way. I don't even have condoms". "Perfect". "You don't know what you're asking for". "I'm not even asking at this point, Matt. You will fuck me!" He surrendered and started spreading my legs far apart. He planted that hairy dick in my ass. It hurt, but not horribly like I'd always thought. I'd felt more pain before -- just not in that spot. "God, this is a mistake". But he started thrusting, giving in to his natural urge to plant seed. His pace quickened and I reached around to grab his ass to make sure he didn't try to pull out. And then he wasn't moving anymore. He was completely still and whispering foreign words. We lay side by side silently for a minute or two. "Are you OK? Did I hurt you?" "I feel perfect". "We'll see". We slept together and I got to feel his hairy warmth all night. Matt's hairy feet were cold though, and I woke up every time they touched my leg, but I was so in love with him that I didn't care. So now we're a couple. I'm HIV+ and he hates that, but I'm strangely loving it. I told him "Now you have more family. We share the same DNA".

Thanks, man.

My apologies for the first version of this story. If the moderators will kindly indulge me, I'd like to rewrite parts of this and make it better. Thank you. 1997 I was 23 when I graduated college and landed a great job in a Midwestern city. I was young, not bad-looking and optimistic about life in general. I was (and still am) gay, but had no gay friends or any gay experience - which was fine. My greatest love at that time was routine: I loved doing the same thing every day in the same way. I'll share some wisdom with you now: your rut is a gift. Be happy if you're in a rut because that means nothing is disrupting your life. Visits to the dentist, colds, funerals, accidents, and so on take you out of your routine. The downside to this way of life is that you also have to let happy diversions go by. It can be a lonely philosophy because it means politely declining invitations to parties, happy hour gatherings or anything spontaneous. It's a sacrifice I was always willing to make. On this particular day I got out of work at 5:15 PM, as always, and drove home the same route I regularly took, when suddenly my car started to make a weird noise. Panic rose in my chest as the noise got increasingly loud. At that moment I was driving through a heavily-Mexican neighborhood and was near an auto mechanic shop called 'Mendez and Sons', so I pulled in thinking to myself 'Shit! I'll miss the TV reruns I had intended to watch that evening', but first I had to be able to get home. As I parked the car I glanced around the garage. Clearly it had been in business for a few years and it wasn't all that busy. Turning off the engine and noticed a little puff of smoke escaping from under the hood. A guy about my age came out from inside the garage and greeted me asking "You got a problem?" He was Latin, tall, skinny and had ears that were so large, they seemed to protrude comically. "I think so. The engine just started making a banging noise and I just saw some smoke from under the hood." "I see." I tried to read the inflection of his voice. Was this super bad? I couldn't exactly afford a new car now. "Can you take a look at it?" "Let me get my brother," he replied. I hated this. I wanted to be home, ordering Chinese food and watching my shows. And then I saw the brother. He was probably 30 and gorgeous, had a trace of a goatee, light brown skin and was at least 6'3". He did not resemble his younger brother except that the two of them were a similar height. "Hi, I'm Kevin. Can you take a look at my car?" "El told me about your problem and it sounds like an issue with your rings or your carburetor to me. That takes time to repair and we close in an hour." "Oh." I could barely believe how much this sucked. I guess I could call a cab or try to get the car to another garage which was open late. He saw the defeat in my face and suggested "Tell you what. Pull into that first bay and I'll do what I can now." I did and looked around. All the workers were tall, Latin and about the same shade of brown, and they were all young and handsome -- except for big-eared 'El'. They wore matching blue coveralls. The helpful guy with whom I had just spoken approached me, wiping his hands with a rag. "I'm Mike. I guess I run the place and all these guys are my little brothers." "Who's the dad?" "Oh, the 'Mendez' in the name of this place is my mom. She owns the shop -- got it from one of the guys she married. She's Mexican and loved marrying and making babies with white guys. I'm the oldest and so it's pretty much MY place." That explained a lot. As curious as I was to hear more, I wanted to get out of here and be home. I popped the hood and let Mike get to work. "We got a waiting room to your right. There's a TV, magazines and a pop machine." I went there. The TV was on a Spanish-speaking channel and I didn't bother changing it. I just watched and fell into kind of a trance from the monotony of all the quick talking that I couldn't understand. I must have nodded off because eventually big Mike had to shake me awake. I forgot where I was for a second. "The good news is that it's just a few bad hoses that need replaced. Won't cost you too much. Bad news is that we don't have one of them and had to order it. It might be tomorrow when we get it or the next day." "Oh. Well I guess I need the number of a cab then." "Here's an idea. Come home with us. It's a big house right up the street and Mama always cooks lots of food. There'll be a bed for you to sleep in and everything." No. I wanted to go home. But this was such a nice gesture that I pretty much had to accept the invitation. "Okay, great. Thanks. Let's go." "It'll be fine. You'll see. Come on. Do you work tomorrow? I can drop you off." "Yeah, but nobody is ever there on Fridays. I can take a vacation day and just report it Monday." "Then that's that. Let me lock up. Go wait outside with the guys." So I stood on the sidewalk with the foursome who all introduced themselves: Mark, Matt, Luke and, of course, El, who stood right next to me like we were old buddies or something. Close up, I could see that he'd pierced his giant ear several times. Why he wanted to draw attention to those things was beyond me, but I was a guest and had no right to judge. Mike finished up with his nightly duties and joined us. This was their routine, and I respected that. We all turned a corner and headed up a hill. Mike took me back and told me to retie my shoe or something so the others could move a little ahead in the dying daylight. He wanted to talk privately. "I have another brother. He is a useless human being who spends all his time in the basement playing video games. He resents me because I wouldn't hire him. He has so many felonies for drugs and shit that I can't trust him around tools and shit. All my brothers have records. Assault, DUIs, domestic violence, and shoplifting. They're all good men with bad mistakes in their past. I've been charged with rape twice, but they were just bitches who were mad that I wouldn't fuck them a second time. Charges were dropped, but my name must be on some registry somewhere I'm sure. Sucks." "God, I'm so boring compared to your family. I do nothing and aspire to nothing except to live a normal life." "Did you ever model? You're not built, but you've got the kind of hair that could sell shampoo to bald men." El kept turning around and looking at me from a few feet ahead. He seemed to want to hang but with us, but Mike gave him a look to stay ahead of us. "You all have biblical names except for El, What's that about?" "His real name is "Luke", but we call him 'El' because he's got big ears like an elephant. I remember the man my mom brought home to make him. Ugliest motherfucker ever. He didn't last long, but then baby El showed up and he's family after all. But I'l probably have to let him go soon. He's sick and has no plans to get himself better. Poor bastard." We were approaching the house. This was my last chance to say something. "I'm gay, Mike." "Like I already didn't know that. We're a very sexual people in this area and can pick up on lots of clues." Then we got up the steps to steps of a pretty impressive house, Mike moved to the front and opened the giant door. The Mom greeted us looking slightly peeved. She was an older Mexican lady with a bright red wig and high heels. Big Mike stopped to talk to her in heated Spanish, but she was pissed and made a motion to a stack of Pizza Hut boxes on the kitchen table. She blurted out a few abuses, but they didn't seem to bother any of the brothers. El come up to my side and told me that her date for the night had canceled on her. He put his hand on my back and told me that we were all banished to the basement for the night. He and Mike led me down into the basement, which had been nicely finished with plush carpeting, four big sofas and a huge TV. In front of the TV was the guy who I guessed was the unemployable brother. He barely glanced up and looked annoyed at my presence. "Goddamn, guys. You couldn't find a decent woman to bring?" "This is going to be a 'guys only' night, Peter. So shut the fuck up," El said sharply. Mike spread out the pizza boxes and told us all to dig in. I ate a piece in the time it took the others to wolf down as many as three. Well, they worked hard and probably didn't get much time to have lunch. "Movie!" somebody called out. El took it upon himself to hit the remote and suddenly we were watching a hetero porn. It was kind of old and there were no condoms in sight. Big, beefy dudes fucked little petite beauties. Although it wouldn't have been my choice for a shared movie experience, it wasn't anything that I would call repulsive. It was set in a locker room. El fished a huge bottle of tequila out of a cabinet and we passed it around. I could barely get the first swallow down, but the second went down better. the third was great. Except for the stupid video, this was all in all, a very pleasant experience. I took a minute to excuse myself and use the basement bathroom. When I got back, I noticed they had all taken their shoes off and three of them were rubbing their crotches. I played it cool and didn't stare. I was getting a bit of a boner myself, but not because I was in the presence of so many hard dicks belonging to hot men. We had almost polished off the whole bottle of booze when the loser brother piped up and said "So, are we going to fuck him soon? I got plans later." Mike leaned close and whispered "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. If you're scared, go up to the first bedroom on the left and lock the door. They're all drunk and kind of crazy." And then Mike stood up and spoke to the group. "Ask Kevin if wants to do it with us first". Mike looked right at Peter and added "Ask nicely." "Dude, can I fuck you now. Please?" He stood up and started getting undressed. I had no idea what to think -- so I let my instincts do the thinking for me. I was incredibly aroused. "OK. But I've never been fucked before." That caused some general rumbling and whispers among the brothers. "Get on the floor and on your knees," Peter instructed. I was still fully-clothed, but did as I was told. Peter was completely naked when he walked over to me with his big boner bouncing with every step. "Here we go," I thought to myself. He turned around and said "Eat my ass." What? I'd never ever thought of doing that. Not ever. He was mostly hairless back there. I put my face between his butt cheeks and started putting my tongue on his hole. The taste wasn't as bad as I thought it would. It was a little sweaty though. He groaned a little and that gave me confidence to really go for it. I kissed his little pucker and then put my tongue as far into the hole as far as I could. "Oh God, yes! The good thing about Mike bringing gay dudes here is that they will always eat ass. Girls never will. Feels so good. Stop now or I'll cum." I pulled away and remained on my knees. He turned back around and put that giant hard dick against my lips with the order "Suck that, fucker." This was harder than just using my lips and tongue. I had to open wide and get as much of his organ into my mouth as I could. He put his hands on my head and urged me on further. I was afraid that he was going to insist that I take it all, but he seemed happy with how far I got. He started thrusting his hips back and forth faster and faster. "Oh SHIT! I'm gonna CUM!" He gripped my head even tighter and made one final jab before I felt the warm, thick fluid in my mouth. My first taste of semen. He stayed still and it just kept filling my mouth. I swallowed. "Damn! That was nice. Sorry I didn't get a chance to fuck your virgin ass, but I couldn't hold it in anymore." He got dressed and I wiped my mouth on my shirt. When I looked around, I saw that were all standing around naked, hard and stroking. I thought it was weird that they were enjoying the sight of their brother have sex. I guess this had happened before. Regularly. Mike announced he was next. "Take off your clothes and get back on the floor. Matt, go get one of the pool towels from the closet upstairs." He sat down on the couch and I was just there kneeling before him. Naked. He stretched one leg out and said, "Rub my feet. They ache." I guess this is what we were doing until the towel arrived. I massaged his giant bare foot and he made sounds of pure pleasure, "Suck my toes." That was my first taste of toe. I did it. It wasn't nasty at all....a mixture of soap and maybe some sweaty funk. I did both feet, and about the time I was finishing-up Matt appeared with the towel. What now? "That felt awesome. Women don't do that shit either. Now eat my ass for a little bit." He remained seated on the couch and spread his legs. I was so hard, I was afraid I'd cum right then and there. Moving forward a bit, I approached eating his ass in the same manner I had undertaken when I serviced Peter. However, as I liked Mike more than Peter, I probably put more passion into the service. I should mention Mike's ass crack was abundantly hairier than his brother's. After just a minute or so of being serviced Mike surprised me when he called out "Stop. Stop." I backed away as he stood. For the first time I received a close view of his penis. It was bigger than any of the others'. "Just suck it for a few seconds. I want to save my cum for your insides." I swallowed the head and maybe two inches of the shaft when he stood, spread the towel on the floor and told me to lay on my back. Producing a tube of lotion from somewhere, he smeared a bit on his fat dick head, as well as squirting a big glob on my ass. "Work that in a little. We'll try to make this as easy on you as possible." And then his huge body hovered over mine, blocking out the overhead light. I felt that dick prod my hole. 'Here we go', I thought as he shoved it in. The pain almost killed me. I tried to scream, but only a gasp of air came out of my mouth. Mike was not insensate - his cock lodged in my ass, he remained perfectly still, stroking my legs and lower torso as he cooed "The worst is over. Relax, relax." As much as I tried, I couldn't get used to it, but even as I thought I had reached the end of my endorance, the 'adjustment' was happening, so when Mike's cock resumed fucking my hole, I only whimpered a few times, and my protests were far less intense. An expert in calming bottoms, Mike gently urged "SShh. Sshhh. It'll feel better soon. I promise." And he was right. It started to not be awful and then it started to feel good. I knew I would cum soon and hoped Mike would also. Within minutes he had gone from a gentle fucking motion to a very vigorous assault on my ass. I shot my load right before he did. Inside. He let himself collapse fully on top of my body. He was heavy, but I felt pure bliss. Maybe soreness as well, but mostly happiness. At last it had happened to me. When Mike and I disengaged and got to our feet, I noticed two points, first, there was a big circle of blood in the middle of the towel, and second, of the spectator brothers, only El was still present. Addressing the two of us, Mike said to me "Go to the bathroom and clean up a little, Kevin," as he then turned to El and asked "Where did everybody go?" "They shot their loads while you were fucking him," El replied. Mike announced he was going to shower and go to bed, but before he left he said "You are El's now. Good night and have fun." He picked up the bloody towel and left. I went to the bathroom and used wet toilet paper to wipe up my ass and legs. When I got back, El was standing there with my clothes bunched in his arms. "Let's go up to my room." I followed him up a few floors and couldn't help but notice how bony his body was. His butt was perfect though. I hoped he wanted it eaten too. Once we were under the covers, he started smothering me with kisses. I worried that my mouth had had asses and dicks and cum in it. But he knew that and had seen everything. I kissed him with what I was feeling like was passion. He was really turning me on. "You know why they always make me go last? It's because I have AIDS." I guess I probably already knew that. "We've shared so many people, that I'm pretty sure all of us have the virus -- even the Great Mike. I'm the only one with symptoms so they make me the final guy to fuck. We don't have to, but I sure would like to have sex with you, Kevin." "Yes. I want you to fuck me." I've never been so certain of something. I kissed his entire body, head to toe, giving El the highest level of service I could, after which, as I lay on my back, El crouched between my legs, lifted them up, leaned forward, and entered my hole. It didn't hurt nearly as bad this time around. I really got a chance to enjoy being fucked, and we grunted, groaned and moaned in delight. Then my cock blew its load - for a second time that night, which apparently triggered El's explosion as he muttered "Oh yeah, baby. I'm giving you my seed...right....NOW!" It was the most intense moment of my life. I now understood why it's not a terrible idea to break routine once and a while. We just stayed in that position and kissed for a long time. "Just so you know...your car's already fixed. Mike tricked you, but I'm so glad he did. You're part of the Mendez family. It's in your DNA now." We were falling asleep, but my final thought was that I sure hoped my car would break down again soon.

Thanks. Dr.

Yeah. I wasn't very happy with this one. I'm going to try and post a better version if the moderators will allow it.

1999 I'm a raging liberal and have voted for Democrats in every election I've ever participated in. Maybe it's because I grew up poor or gay... or both. I'm an activist because I hate injustice. I want more equality and fairness in the world. Before you label me some kind of good person (I'm flawed), I have always had a dark side that I usually ignore or deny. After spending a weekend in jail for something stupid I'd done (that's another story for another time), I was suddenly way more interested in reforming the judicial system. It was a harsh process and human beings were treated like shit. I also noticed that there were way more blacks than whites locked up. I wondered how many of the black guys would even be here if they were a different race. It was an awakening. I wanted to be an advocate for prisoner's rights. Or maybe I developed too many crushes on guys while I was there. I didn't want to lose them to the black hole known as the Department of Justice. It seems so naive and overly-idealistic now, but I was determined. I never really found an opportunity to be an advocate, but I did find a website where you could become pen pals with incarcerated men. Well, good. At least I could provide friendship and emotional support to some of these men. Just use Google and you'll find several sites that let you mail letters to prisoners --- not just dumb dudes like me who spent 48 hours behind bars, but men who were serving sentences of 2,3,5,10 years. Even guys on death row. Well, I ended up making connections with a dozen prisoners from all over the country. I was writing pen pal letters every night for weeks. Most of them asked for money orders or gifts and were pretty transparent about it. I weeded those guys out pretty quick because I was not a rich man. But Aaron seemed genuine. He and I wrote about our lives and our dreams and everyday stuff for months. He was a white kid who was in prison about a thousand miles away, He was convicted of armed robbery and assault. He'd burglarized his uncle's house and then beat him up pretty severely. He seemed to really feel bad about it. Maybe I showed my gay cards first or maybe he did, but our letters soon became more "romantic". And then they just got X-rated. He sent me a trace of his hard cock and talked about all the things he wanted to do to me. At the time, I had no sexual experience but had read enough porn that I could come up some sexy things to write. I sent him a card or a letter everyday for months. I even sent money and gifts. He only had a year left on his sentence, and we talked about living together. We fantasized about our first night. It got really erotic. But then he started asking for more and more money and Amazon stuff. I decided I was being scammed. Liberals can be way too trusting st times. I stopped writing him altogether. A few more letters came, but I didn't open any and just put them on my bookshelf behind a clock. I was done fighting for these guys. After a crummy Christmas season, I felt kind of lonely and decided to open the last few letters Aaron had written. He expressed regret for being so needy. "It's not fair to you...especially since you've been so kind. I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. If you stop writing me, I'll lose any trace of hope I have. I get out of here in a few months and I want to be with you. Please write back," The next one: "I have nothing now. You were my one bright spot. I look at your photo every day and night. Write me back in the next week or I'll just move on with my terrible life options." The last one: "You are a motherfucking asshole. How much more honest can I be? You should thank your lucky stars I never got a chance to fuck your sorry ass...because I've got HIV. It would be great if I could ruin your life by just cumming inside of you. I got it from my roommate who was the boss of our block. I wish he could infect you too. We could double up on your butt and make sure you never break another heart. Asshole. I hope you die." Well that was sad, but then why did my cock get hard? I told you I have a dark side. I wasn't supposed to be back at work for three more days....that meant more TV and sitting alone with my dark thoughts. Nothing new except now I was thinking of Aaron again, especially at night. I needed to let it go because he hated me now. I was getting late and I'd had enough of CNN for one night so I turned out the lights and got ready for bed. And then there was a knock at the door. I thought about ignoring it. but it didn't stop. Suddenly I knew it was HIM. He obviously had my address. Aaron! I opened the door and standing there was a pale white guy who was nearly a foot taller than me and close to my age. He was not "cute", but he was hot in a way I couldn't find the words for. He had a giant suitcase with him. "Aaron?" "Hi Kevin. I took a bus here because I had no other options. I'm sorry. I really need a place to stay". "Come in". "Are you sure?" "Absolutely. It's cold out there". "I'm sorry. I don't even know if you read my last letter, but I regret writing it". He drug his suitcase in and I quickly put it in my bedroom. "Get comfortable and warm yourself up a little". "Maybe later. I've grown fond of being outdoors in the free and open. Want to take a little walk with me?" His coat was too thin for this weather, but I agreed -- my heart leaping. I put on my shoes and a coat and off we went for a walk around the block. It was below freezing out here, but he seemed to be in bliss. "So you read my letters? All of them?" "Yeah. I thought you hated me. Was it true about you being HIV positive?" "Yes. But don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you. I just had you on my mind". "OK. Are you sick?" "Not yet. This happened to me just two years ago. I guess it's still brewing inside. I'd still like to make love to you, but with a condom". "Let's head back". We got inside and he immediately grabbed my neck and kissed me deeply. Without thinking too hard about it, I opened the fly of his jeans and release his giant boner. It was still cold from the outdoors, but fully hard. "Can we go to your bed?" I didn't even bother to answer -- I just motioned for him to follow me. We got inside and I stripped in record time...mainly because I wanted to watch him undress with no distractions. He unlaced his long tennis shoes (which had seen better days) and slipped his socks off. Once he was naked, my only instinct was to pull him under the covers with me. His cold skin warmed up and we kissed for a long time. Things heated up nicely and I was in heaven. He was on top of me thrusting his long, skinny cock between my thighs. "Shit. I'm about to cum. Let me go get a condom out of my pants". "I tell you what -- you forget about the condom and I'll make you a big breakfast tomorrow morning". "Are you nuts? I'm infected". "Maybe I'm nuts. But that last letter of yours gave me the biggest hard on of my life. You were so mad. Think back to that and take your revenge now". "Give me a second. Oh yeah. You pissed me off so bad". And then he lifted my legs in the air and plunged that spear into me. Damn! Pain! "Now you pay for ignoring me, Bastard!" "Don't stop talking, Aaron". "I'm going to give you all the poison built up in my balls...and you'll have it until you die. You'll waste away, and I'll always know I caused it". I reached around and grabbed his ass. I thought if I touched him there he'd ejaculate quicker, but he was already jerking rapidly...and cumming. I wish I could say I felt him filling my ass, but all I felt was his weight on me and his organ still inside of my ass. He and I were both asleep within minutes. In the morning, I made about twenty pancakes. A deal's a deal. We still live together. He got a job at a convenience store and neither of us have gotten sick so far. So far.

Awesome. I love the top's furry belly, but I would like to have seen just a glimpse of his face. Thanks!