ErosWired

This conversation made me sensitive to two things I observed last night whilst slutting my wares in Louisville. The first was a point at which I had two guys coming to tag-team me (flaked, naturally) and a third unassociatef individual who asked me if he could join in. Huzzah! Thought I - three cocks to one hole: mine! And to my delight, the other to were agreeable. But when I told the third, his first question was - “Are they black or white?” What? How the hell did I know, and why would I care? Their cocks were huge. The pics were dark, so it was hard to tell. I told the third guy I thought white but couldn’t be sure, and did that matter? Previously eager guy #3 did not reply, so I and couldn’t help adding, “I take cock from any man who wants my ass. If he’s got a cock I don’t care if he’s green. If that’s an issue for you I’m afraid we probably aren’t compatible. Never heard from him again. This folked after an earlier conversation with a black man bitter because he couldn’t get laid in Louisville because of his skin color. Yet when I was shutting down my apps when it was time for me to go, I happened across a profile on GROWLR that began with: ??????????? You tell me what the fuck. I just think a lot more people need to be talking face to face and not poking at little screens. These damn little screens are going to kill us all one day...

Well, that occurred to me as well, but it just seemed odd that so many guys would read my ad that says right up front that I’m hotel hosting, hit me up for more information, ask how many loads I’ve got in me or how many guys are there, and then say, “Wish I could come but I’m not mobile.” There was one guy who claimed he didn’t have his car, and could I come by his place after I left the hotel. Then there was the guy a few months ago who asked me to call him an Uber so he could come over. (Sure, come over here, ya big uber!) The thing is, Louisville isn’t known for its mass transit. There are downtown buses, but if people want to get to work, it’s pretty much a car town. So either all these square-wheeled guys are sad, unemployed cased sitting at home and fapping to all the unreachable profiles, or they’re such cheap and/or lazy fucks that even their starving libidoes can’t motivate them to act in their own interest, or they’re so jelly-spined that they can’t just say “sorry not interested” and blame it on carlessness instead, or... ...they’re just fucking with me.

Update: It didn’t get much better. One other young guy dropped in before 2am with a decent fuck and a big load, and then a long string of pretty much nothing until around 7:30am, when a guy asked if he could come by off the night shift. He was bi, he said, sent pictures of himself and his impressive cock. He told me he was coming, then contacted me again to say he was bringing a buddy but had to wait for him. Time stretched on. He texted about how he was going to tear my ass up, and told me to just lay there with my ass up and shut up like a good fag until they got to me. Time dragged on. He wanted to talk on the phone, so we talked about what a fucking whore I was that would take any cock and load from any guy, fuck yeah, etc, etc. Then he wanted me to send him a shot of my ass and of my hole. I was pleased to see from the picture that my hole again was a slit and not a hole, and said so, to which he replied, “Shut up, fag.” Shortly afterward, I realized that I had been waiting for over two hours, and it was getting close to the time I would have to leave. I mentioned this, to which he replied, “Shut up”. I answered, “Try again”, and that was the last I heard of him. I left off wondering if he hadn’t been trolling me all along. Fortunately, just before 10am one of my very favorite Tops showed up and shredded orgasms out of me while fucking two loads into me in his very memorable way. One other oddity, though - no fewer than three men who hit me up all said they would love to fuck but didn’t have wheels. Louisville is awash with cars - yet I get this all the time - guys can’t hook up because they don’t have a car/they’re not mobile. Is this just a stupid new game?

Note: This entry relates to issues I’m still thinking about, and may be later revised if I do any more braining. —— As I read the topics and posts of this forum, I am often struck with a sense that there are two different communities here, existing side-by-side, intermingling as though they were one, yet profoundly different. I’m not talking about the poz/neg divide, or the Top/bottom divide, or the chaser/non-chaser divide, or the divide between CD/TG and M/M attraction. I’m referring to the divide between those who live this lifestyle and those who live it vicariously - those for whom this is fantasy. Fantasy has been defined as “the faculty or activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable”. A related concept is Cloud Cuckoo-Land, which is a calque of the ancient Greek Νεφελοκοκκυγία, coined by Aristophanes to describe an imaginary place where unrealistic people metaphorically reside. A discerning reader of these boards comes in time to develop a sense that some accounts of sexual adventure have the ring of truth; others, the stamp of fiction. This is not to say that there is anything wrong with those writings that express an aspiration rather than an experience - each heart must have its voice. But there are points at which the two currents cross where the difference is illuminated in contrast. For instance, on the question of “whether a true cumdump should be on PrEP”, the discussion is peppered with opinions to the effect that ‘a cumdump should take ANY and ALL toxic loads’. This is not a statement of a reasoned view; it does not consider the realistic human elements of the question that occur naturally to a person who has lived the experience; they are expressions of an imagined situational model, constructed to titillate the imaginer. Within the confines of the imaginer’s mind, this presents no issue. But injected into the arena of public discourse in the guise of experience, it muddies the waters of debate. A similar phenomenon bedevils the entire world of online gay cruising. Two groups are in the same arena, at first glance all in pursuit of the same objective, but in fact incompatibly dissimilar. On the one hand are those men genuinely attempting to meet others for real, person-to-person contact; and on the other, those whose goal is to achieve titillation by purely virtual means. The result is that the second group gets its satisfaction at the expense of the first. In a hypothetical scenario in which this forum could be successfully segregated into discrete areas, one for those discussing their actual lived experiences, and the other for those expressing their unlived fantasies, what would be the result? Would each group flourish, enabled to grow through purity of purpose? Or would the groups falter, each needing something that the other provides? Can the fantasists fully indulge in their internal creations without a voyeur’s ingestion of accounts from a real world where truth excites more than fiction? Would those who have made the choices to live sexually adventurous lives have done so without original exposure to the products of fantasy? For my part, I find the problem particularly difficult in that the true narrative of my sexual life over the last 15 years is so outside the norm that it reads like fiction. Because of the hyperbolic statements and writings men make in expression of their sexual fantasies, I run the distinct risk of my real story being dismissed as fantasy. It is as though I have encountered an actual minotaur in an actual labyrinth and been actually fucked by him with his 11” bull-cock (true story; just substitute ‘marine’ for ‘minotaur’ and ‘Fort Knox’ for ‘labyrinth’) and nobody on earth will believe that it happened to me because, well, that’s outrageous, for God’s sake. I’m actually going to try to publish an explicit written account of my experiences, but I’ll have no choice but to change the names of people and places to protect the... well, to protect the complicit. And that will do nothing but give it more of the flavor of fantasy. It makes me want to climb onto the roof of the bathhouse and shout to all the world - “I HAVE BEEN FUCKED BY MORE MEN IN MORE WAYS IN MORE PLACES THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY BELIEVE AND I WANT TO DO EVERY BIT OF IT AGAIN TOMORROW AFTER A GANGBANG TONIGHT - I LOVE COCK AND CUM AND I GIVE SWEET, SWEET ASS, I’M A SLUTTY CUMDUMP SLUT AND I’M NOT ASHAMED OF IT ONE FUCKING BIT!” And I can hear the guys in the parking lot below going, “Pft. Listen to that. He’s probably never had his lips around a cock in his life. Bless.” So I guess those of us who are really, truly, bravely, boldly living the dream must take our satisfaction in the experiences themselves, separated from the world of sexual fantasy that swirls around us. Isn’t that ironic? This is ErosWired, reporting from Cloud Cuckoo-Land.

Welp - So much for that theory. I took the plunge and took a hotel room (at inflated holiday rates on a Thursday) to host for lonely Tops, and... Bupkiss. I’ve been here for six hours, it’s midnight-thirty, and the one single guy who came for a shag is the same young guy who always comes when I host. I mean, it could be fucking Louisville, which is just a lousy place to get laid, period, but it feels like Cupid died and they’re holding a wake.

I imagine that February 14 is usually a canoodlin’ day for those of you men fortunate enough to have a special partner in your life, but there are many, many of us for whom Valentine’s Day is just a big old poke in the eye because not only do we not have anyone, everywhichway we turn we get reminded of the fact because the stores are full of red and chocolate shit we’re not going to be giving or getting. For some, I guess the situation might result in a man retreating to his solitary man-cave with whatever libation seems best to dull the pain. But my question is: How many of you unattached men will instead go out looking for an ass to breed or a cock to ride tomorrow - and do you think you will do it especially because of what day it is? And for you guys partnered and boyfriended up, are any of you likely to head out looking to share the love rather than keeping it just between the two of you? I would appreciate some feedback on this as soon as possible, because if it sounds like there will be a lot of men in need tomorrow, I had better get my ass ready...

@salerio - I know what you mean - the brass ring seems to be to find a Top who is both aggressive and confident enough to pursue his own satisfaction, and also intuitive and experienced enough to recognize and satisfy the bottom’s unspoken needs. I understand that such creatures are often found in the same localities as unicorns and flying monkeys. In the real world, however, I have found that both of those traits are more the result of developing a relationship of trust and familiarity with a man over time and over a series of encounters. None of us is telepathic - most of these desires and needs must be directly communicated in some way. I imagine you’ll say, “But I didn’t want anything - I just wanted him to do whatever he wanted.” First, you obviously did want something, because you were unsatisfied that you didn’t get it. You wanted aggression and dominance. Second, the majority of Tops are great, compassionate guys with warm hearts, who are as eager to please a lover as any bottom. In fact, their stakes are higher because of what’s required for their performance. Topping ain’t easy. So it’s no wonder that many Tops look for cues from a bottom until the pair is familiar enough that the Top can be sure that what he’s doing will also please his partner. They’re not all (to the disappointment of some of us) self-centered, aggressive, entitled, amoral assholes with out-of-control libidoes and monster cocks. Now, admittedly, some guys appear to have a distinct deficit in sexual imagination, and in these sad cases there’s not much that can be done, but in general I’d say the key to getting what you want from your Top partner is getting to know one another better. And practice. Lots of practice.

I must have pleased the Gods of Fucking somehow, because I was just bred by a fantastic 21-year-old guy who is mostly bottom but said he was “Top-curious”. He had performance anxiety, but agreed to try a litte viagra to help him along. Within minutes, he was the fucking poster boy for Viagra, with one of the most beautiful cocks I have ever seen, nice and thick, and bred me in multiple positions until he slow-fucked a long-pent-up load deep inside me. He said I was only the 4th successful fuck, with over 30 failed attempts. Not only that, he just messaged me to tell me he’s never seen his cock so erect. It makes me proud to be a slut.

How long have you known this man, and what is the nature of your current relationship? If you don’t know him intimately and have a deep trust developed over much time and shared experience, what you propose to do is foolhardy at best; at worst, dangerous. I ask this because you describe him as a fuck buddy, which doesn’t sound like that intimate a relationship. Be aware that there are limits to the degree to which you can waive his liability for causing you harm. Liability waivers cannot be used to avoid liability for actions determined to be worse than ordinary negligence - liability for grossly negligent, intentional, or reckless conduct cannot be waived beforehand. I’m sure all this wasn’t what you had in mind when you posted asking for advice, but I come from a BDSM lifestyle background,where people really do this kind of contracting as a serious part of committed relationships, and it can get complicated. I also have some qualification to advise you because another man possessed a signed deed granting him complete ownership of my physical body for three years - and not having autonomy isn’t always fun.

I believe what you need to solve this problem is available here: https://primalrings.com They sell cockrings designed to conform to the anatomy. I’m considering trying one myself.

I’m not big on jocks but I have a nice solid steel cock cage that I often wear when I’m in service. As the OP is suggesting, the point isn’t like usual chastity/keyholder practice whose intent is to prevent the sub from accessing his genitals - here, it’s to keep anyone else from doing so. In my case it’s not so much that I can’t stand to have my cock and balls handled, but my ampallang piercing is like a fucking magnet for guys’ hands and if I don’t wear something to conceal it, they will. not. leave. my. cock. alone. Guys just reach down and grab it without saying a word beforehand - which seems like it would be a dicey thing to do with a total stranger. Of course, I’ve been trained to accept that any man is entitled to touch me anywhere he pleases at any time, but I don’t walk around wearing a sign that says so, so I can’t say how they know I’m fair game. But they do, so I wear the cock cage. The other reason is because of things such as happened at my last CumUnion - I took a turn in the sling room, blindfolded, ass primed and ready. I wasn’t wearing the cage. I hear the first man come in, come right up to me from the side (not between my legs) and start fondling my cock, trying to get me hard. Then, and I kid you not, the next two did the exact same thing! I’m lying in a sling, in the fuck-me-hard invitational posture, and the first three guys never even touch my hole! So it became clear to me that I needed to somehow get the cock out of sight and out of reach if I was going to have any hope of breeding. I suppose I could have written “THE FUN ZONE IS AT THE HOLE, STUPID” on my belly in black marker with helpful arrows... but the lighting was dim. I’m not sure wearing a jock would do me any good in that situation. In times past when I’ve worn briefs or a thong to conceal, I’ve usually ended up with hands creeping under cloth to test what I was “hiding” from them, and then they would just pull the thing down. But others may have quite different experience.

@sweetbitch - It isn’t clear from your post or from the product description (unless I missed something) whether this spiral ring is the kind worn at the base of the cock, or the kind worn beneath the glans. Could you specify which type you’re looking for? Personally, as an avid wearer of cock rings of various kinds, I look at some of the spiral designs with a very dubious eye; unless you keep very smoothly shaved, some of them seem like they’re made to be hair-pullers. Or worse, scrotum-pinchers... o.0

I could get definitive results in a year for $30,000.00. That would cover a hotel for hosting five nights a week (I have to recover at some point) and weekly resupply of lube and other essentials. The remainder would cover travel from place to place to I would still be relatively "fresh meat" to the Tops around me. A year ought to tell me how long I could stay in heat - or whether continuous breeding would just intensify the effect...

Sure, because a person is no longer a human being when you don't know who they are. What the justifying fuck? How does that make the slightest bit of sense? What is it about your ignorance of their identity that changes the equation? If it was wrong to stealth the guy when you knew who he was (yes, it was morally wrong to stealth him), then it's still morally wrong when you don't. Jeebus...

Dude - If you're going to cite a source, you really ought to read it first. That Aidsmap link opens directly to a page titled "Life expectancy in HIV-positive people in the US still lags 13 years behind HIV-negative people" (I mean, it's in the URL, for pete's sake) and includes these paragraphs: "One interesting aspect of this study is that death rates and life expectancy in HIV-positive people has tended to be compared with the general population’s figures. But of course people with HIV form part of the general population. Thus, taken over the whole study period, life expectancy in HIV-positive people at age 20 was 49 years; in HIV-negative people it was 62 years; and in the US general population it was 60 years. This means that if the Kaiser Permanente HIV-negative population resembles the HIV-negative US general population, then HIV reduces life expectancy in the US general population by two years. In subgroups, the difference was bigger: in men the gap between HIV-negative and general-population life expectancy was five years, in black people three years, and in Hispanic people six years. However, Kaiser’s users are not likely to resemble the general population, so the actual reduction in life expectancy due to HIV in the general population is likely to be lower than this. There still remains a gap of 13.1 years between HIV-positive and HIV-negative life expectancy in this study, and this did not improve between 2008 and 2011. The researchers then looked at factors that might narrow this gap. In people who started ART at CD4 counts over 500 cells/mm3, the life expectancy gap between them and HIV-negative people was 7.9 years, i.e. it added 5.2 years to an HIV-positive person’s life expectancy. Not having had hepatitis B or C added 5.9 years; not having had problems with drugs or alcohol added 6.5 years; and not having ever smoked added 7.7 years. This still left a life expectancy gap of 5.4 years, however." Your claim of two years is based on the first paragraph, but the study makes clear that that would only be the case if the HIV+ population were the same as the general population. Their study revealed that there are, in fact, factors that widen the gap between life expectancies, from 5.4 years at best to an average loss of 13.1 years. This is a 2016 report. The thing about science, you see, is that you don't get to cherry-pick the bits you like and ignore the rest. The science you quote demonstrates that your hypothesis that the difference in life expectancy is only "a few months" is false. Thank you for clearing that up with a peer-reviewed study. As to this whole tiresome question of whether a poz Top has any responsibility toward a bathhouse bottom who requests disease-free hookups, the "personal rights, personal responsibilities" argument does not mean "every man for himself" - that would result not in civil society, but in anarchy and the ultimate decay of systems that allow the forward progress of homo sapiens, which are inherently a social species. Personal rights cannot exist absolutely when there are 7 billion of us with often conflicting personal rights, therefore the guarantee of personal rights is in fact a social contract in which each member of society assumes a personal responsibility to exercise his or her personal rights in the context of other people, and much is expected of him to whom much has been given. Does the pop Top have a responsibility to honor the bottom's request? Of course he does. It matters not one iota whether the Top thinks the bottom is being ridiculous or irresponsible or naïve or "needs to be taught a lesson" - the Top's responsibility is to his social contract that expects that others will honor his requests for a personal right in another instance, and to the greater social responsibility not to risk the spread of disease in the population. He has a moral responsibility in the abstract not to increase suffering in others, as he would expect others not to increase his suffering. Indeed, a poz Top or bottom, who knows he has a viral load, or does not know the status of his viral load, should assume the same level of personal responsibility. Assuming such responsibility doesn't make us "Frankensteins". On the contrary, ignoring our duty to protect our fellows, wherever we can, is what makes us monsters. Being cavalier about spreading the virus is what promotes stigma, not responsible behavior. I am up-front-and-center about my status and have been from the moment I was diagnosed. Since then I have had exactly four incidents - out of hundreds - where guys have reacted negatively to my status. Two of them told me they didn't want to play because I was poz, thanked me for being honest, and apologized (!) for their reluctance. The other two cases were idiot rentboys who, when I informed them that, no, I was not "generous" and did not have to pay anyone to get my ass amply bred, got salty and started telling me how I must be a filthy disease-ridden whore and should be ashamed to be out spreading HIV. I'm sure others have turned away from me silently because of my status and I've never known about it, but that's their problem. Did I ask to be given this virus and all the grief that attends it? I did not, but what I'm going to do about it is step up and take responsibility like a man. I absolutely do not play unless I test Undetectable, and I have not missed a single dose of ART since September 12, 2014, because I have a duty to protect those who do me the honor of choosing me to play. Their lives are precious because they are human beings.

It’s not a pity at all - I simply agree with him. Anti-scientific? Rubbish. Here’s the science. HIV isn’t fatal as such, because the virus itself isn’t what kills you. It’s the opportunistic infections that strike if your CD4 count is below a certain level, or even if it isn’t, the constant and unnatural state of inflammation the body endures predisposes it to a range of potentially life-shortening ailments including certain cancers for which we otherwise wouldn’t be at risk. You have indicated that you yourself are HIV+; one gathers by your remarks here that you consider your health so negligibly affected by the incurable virus in your body that you need not concern yourself about it - after all, you would have us believe you’re going to live the same span of life one way or the other. It’s not, you disingenuously insist, a fatal disease... it’s “no big deal”. But - do you take your ART? Daily? Without fail? If so, why? Because you know that if you do not, you will suffer and then you will die. That isn’t speculation or hyperbole, it’s an accepted scientific fact, because, empirically, that’s what’s happened to practically everyone in whom the virus gains traction. The disease progresses to its final stage, every time. Even in those of us on the latest meds, the virus is still gaining ground, it’s just doing it much, much more slowly. Make no mistake - we can’t stop it, we can only slow it down, and the end result of having it, by one cause or the other, is the death of the host body. Thirty years of scientific research attests to this. But you know this perfectly well. You know perfectly well that the disease is fatal more quickly untreated, so you take the personal responsibility to medicate yourself every day so the Enemy Virus has no chance to mutate into something worse that the meds can’t stop. Perhaps it irritates you that the rest of the world also benefits from you taking that personal responsibility - perhaps you’re one of that sort of people who can’t stand to do the right thing if you think someone has told you to do it; I really couldn’t say - but the reality is that they do benefit. And those if us who carry the disease within us do bear a greater responsibility toward our fellows, just as those who carry firearms bear a heightened responsibility for their actions. We have a potential for harm that our negative brothers do not - that is fact, and indisputable. I find your arguments to the contrary wholly unconvincing, and to be candid, the condescension with which you present them gains you neither ground nor goodwill.

Hold the phone. Do I understand you to be saying that you believe it would be reasonable for some authority or other to be empowered to issue sex permits to citizens? That is to say, empowered to regulate who may have sex with whom, by permit? And that this is “not out of the question?” In what totalitarian gulag-state? Good luck with that here. Sounds to me like a foolproof recipe for rebellion and overthrow of the State, assuming such a measure were even found to be Constitutional. You can’t mess with people’s fucking.

Certainly. I was entirely unaware of my HIV infection due to an unfortunate series of false negative tests (my GP told me flatly, “Medicine failed you.”). Only when I went straight from double pneumonia to fungal meningitis with stroke in August 2014 did a test finally confirm HIV - and by then my CD4 count stood at 49. I was 47 years old. At that time, my infectious disease specialist told me that with lifelong ART, diet, exercise, and some luck, I could expect to live to 70. At 4 1/2 years later, that prediction hasn’t changed. In 2016, the median male life expectancy in the U.S. stood at 78.69 years, 82 years in Canada, and 80 years in the U.K. in my own family, men who were non-smokers have tended to live into their 90s. Even my dad, who smoked like a blast furnace for years, will be 77 in August, and I, a drug-free teetotaler who has never smoked in my life, will probably not come anywhere close to his mark when I shuffle off the ol’ mortal coil. So I’m afraid your assertion that the poz/neg difference in life expectancy is only a matter of a few months is currently simply incorrect, except perhaps for young men whose HIV is caught early and treatment is begun before the virus ravages their immune systems. But even then it only serves to illustrate the larger point that poz men bear a greater responsibility to monitor and take action for their own health and lives, for if they don’t proactively get testing, and keep up with treatment, their own life expectancies may shorten beyond that “few month” difference. And anyway, who’s to say “a few months” isn’t anything to worry about? When it comes to the end, how many of us wouldn’t give most anything for a few more months with the people we love?

I have always drawn a distinction between what I experience as a total bottom and the somehow different feeling a Top experiences in terms of readiness to couple. I have always considered myself “in heat” because the tension and pressure to be fucked manifests itself for me both mentally and physically as a sense of increasing temperature. Especially if I place my hand near my cunt, the heat seems to come off me in waves, and I imagine my orifice swollen and inflamed from need. It’s a passive feeling with no ability to relieve itself, and gives a sense not unlike being in an oven. A Top, by contrast, will often describe himself as “horny”, a term I don’t use for me and the soft receptiveness of my flesh. “Rutting” seems far more appropriate for the Top - it is an active word, a sharp word, a penetrating and repetitive word. If “rut” carries over to humans from the animal world (and it clearly does), then why should “in heat” not carry over from the animal world equally well?

I would think that in general, and absent blatant bigotry, the likelihood of most terms causing offense is in inverse proportion to how precisely they are applied to a given subject. Personally, I would find it very useful if terms like GBC (Great Big Cock) or RHC (Really Huge Cock) or AWC (Ass Wrecking Cock) entered into the lexicon as commonly understood abbreviations. That way, the only reason anyone would have to use BBC is if he were very specifically interested (for whatever reason) in a large-cocked black lover. I take all cocks, but I would readily express a preference for GBC and RHC if guys knew what I was talking about …

@MomentofReflection - Wrong-o. I’m 52, and my HIV became AIDS in 2014. By a medical quirk it didn’t kill me then, but my life expectancy is now 70. Not 84, not 80, not even 75 - 70. The difference in life expectancy in some cases can be the loss of more than a decade, not “just a few months”, and barring some other accident or a scientific breakthrough, yes, it is going to kill me sooner rather than later. You can’t refute what you call a “lame fucking statement” with another lame fucking statement, and if you don’t like “what’s wrong with this entire website”, please accept this invitation to hit the road.

Their behavior was clearly predatory, and the fact that they departed in haste when a third party appeared suggests that they knew perfectly well that what they were doing was wrong. You specifically told them you didn’t want to; they ignored your choice and applied force. I call that rape. Whether or not you were traumatized by it, or found it hot in retrospect, is immaterial. They did it, and they did it by intent. And no, you are in no way to blame because you were naked in a steam room or because you intended to take cock later anyway. No victim-blaming.

I never think of myself as “acting” - I am always trying my best to respond in the way that gives the Top the maximum pleasure and satisfaction from his fuck. In that sense, I try to actually feel the way the Top seems to want or expect me to feel, even if the Top wants me to feel discomfort. I tend to be a very expressive bottom anyway. My body broadcasts what a Top is doing to it, without any extra effort on my part. My back arches, my legs splay, my toes stretch involuntarily, and I don’t even want to think about the expressions that must be visible on my face - the sounds that come out of my mouth are embarrassing enough. And the orgasms - I’m sure as fuck not faking those. Ask the guys fucking me. So on the whole, I would say I’m not so much acting as responding, which I consider my absolute duty to the Tops who privilege me with their fucking.

I’ve entertained this fantasy for as long as I can remember, and me coupling me is probably the only way I could successfully fuck anyone, because I would know exactly what to do and when and how, to keep myself hard enough to make it possible. But besides that, I would love it because we’d both instantly go for trying to fulfil the deepest, darkest, desires we’d never found anyone willing to do with us, and feel not one moment of inhibition or doubt about it because we would both know how much each of us desperately wanted it.

Your friend/master in Berlin is violating the bedrock principle that underlies all sane Dominant/submissive relationships: As your master, he has a Duty of Care to look after your safety and well-being because he is in a position (which you have given him) to exercise strong influence over you. His effort to persuade you to do something that puts your health at risk reveals him as a callous asshole who has no business Dominating anyone. You say that you are considering stopping PrEP because the thought of being infected by someone turns you on. Let’s draw a sharp distinction between the worlds of fantasy and reality, here. On the one hand you have a pleasant tingle that helps you get off. On the other hand you have the near certainty of contracting an incurable diseae for which you will have to take harsh medication every. single. day of your life, without fail, or the disease may grow a strain that could kill you, and even if it doesn’t, your body will be in a constant state of inflammation, making you susceptible to other ailments like certain cancers. That is, if you detect the infection before it ravages your immune system to the point that you catch pneumonia or fungal meningitis and simply die. So, to recap: On one hand a fantasy that tickles your taint, and on the other, a debilitating disease and possible death. Don’t say you’re going to choose the first option, because you would be demonstrating to everyone that you are an idiot. No fantasy is worth your health, and if you harbor some notion that having HIV is no big deal, then allow me, a four-year AIDS survivor, to set you straight. Your “master” is nothing of the sort - he’s just a common-or-garden abuser who is apt to bring you to harm. Ditch his sorry ass and find a Dominant worthy of you. And if you’ve got any common sense at all, stay on your PrEP.