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I headed to the rest stop about 11 pm. There were only a few cars in the lot; and, as I made my way down the sidewalk, I had an inkling the men's room would be deserted. I was right. I stood there jacking, hoping somebody would cum in; and after 20 minutes, someone did. He was a skinny, emaciated Dude, maybe late 40's, 5-10, graying hair, wearing an ill-fitting cowboy shirt and jeans which were obviously too large for his diminished frame. Yeah, the Dude was sleazy enough for my taste, even if he had seen better days. I moved over to the adjoining urinal and stared. As I perused his fat 7 inches, he grabbed me by the scuff of my neck and pushed me down. I opened wide to swallow his sleazy Rod. It reeked of sweat and piss. I didn't care, and I lubed my lips and chin with his slimey Drool. As I fell into cadence, I grew oblivious to our environs; and, judging from the moans emanating from the Dude, he felt the same. For the next few moments, we shared the deepest human bond. He pulled me up and demanded my Poppers bottle. He took a few deep hits and asked if I got fucked. I tried to conceal my enthusiasm so he wouldn't think I'm the Slut I really am. "Wanna rubber?" "Your call," I responded, noncommittally. Next thing I knew he was greasing my Hole with some unknown Lube and Spit. He pushed me over and rammed it home—so quickly I had to grab hold of the urinal to keep from stumbling. My hands struggled for purchase on the slick porcelain, my palms collecting pubic hairs and piss. Desperately I took to my Poppers, as his unanticipated aggressiveness, in tandem with his depth of penetration, sent shock waves through my bowel. Again and again he thrust in and out, and I suppressed a scream as I held on for dear life. At last he spasmed and gobs of Cum shot in me in a barrage I thought would never end. The Fucker must have been abstaining for a month, and I almost blew my wad contemplating all that scrumptious Baby Batter buggering my Butt. He pulled out and avowed how great it’d been and how he hoped I'd got my rocks off, too. I assured him I had. As he walked out I smiled to myself, acknowledging the reason I’d been so aroused was that I'd suspected he was POZ. I had planned to confront the Dude; but then I thought, 'Why spoil his fun?' He probably surmised he'd put one over on a NEG. But, for one, I wasn't the Innocent he'd presumed. And, secondly, there was some question about who'd screwed whom. -
I hit the baths Monday night and things were really dead. I counted a mere eight cars in the lot. I had the good fortune to find an old compadre lying in the Sling. He's POZ. In fact, he has full blown AIDS. What with the cost of Meds and the precariousness of his health, he only ventures out maybe once a month when he feels at his peak. He's extremely wasted and effeminate—a real mincing queen, but very gentle. I once observed him comfort a drunken boy who'd just been dumped by his Boyfriend. I watched as they embraced and he wiped his tears away. At that time I still didn't know his name, for all the years I'd seen him around. I guess that's true of many of my casual acquaintances. Most of the guys avoided him like the plague. They bitched and moaned about him almost to his face. Yet I never heard him rebuke any of those Screaming Queens. I know I wouldn't have been so kind. He climbed in the Sling—his Cock and lumpy Ass on display and up for grabs. I pictured myself kneeling down to lick his Hole, my Dick sliding in his Cunt. Yeah, I had a secret passion for the guy. How gladly would I have drunk his piss and eaten his shit to fuck his bony Ass. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. But not just yet. I didn't want an audience in case the guys freaked out (as I was pretty sure they would) and ostracized me as well a him. It was cowardice on my part, simply put. How I despised my wimpishness. I was drowning in my own timidity. Reluctantly acknowledging there was no white knight in shining armor cuming to ride his haggard Ass, he knotted his ragged towel about his meager waist and smiled at me and everyone as he pranced past. I decide to fraternize with the boys and listen to them bitch and moan about the dude. Cowed by my cravenness, I didn't say a word in his defense . Still I was beguiled by his she-male thing, the AIDS thing, the hole ball of wax. It made him seem so vulnerable and impotent—though impotent was hardly the proper term. But the character assassination never ceased, and it was not my part to remonstrate. Before checking out, I searched the Maze for him. He was lying on a leather bench. I wasn't sure if he were asleep or waiting for his paladin. I couldn't deny I admired the man. It took guts to cum here and put up with all the crap. I stopped and listened. I could hear the sibilant sing-song of his wizened nasal passages. Otherwise, it was deathly silent in the Maze. We were alone. What could it hurt? Why not? Despite the harangue, we were still two human beings in need. Before I knew it I was beside him on the bench. I ran my hand over his thin body, down his scrawny back, over his bony Ass, and onto his emaciated thighs and twiggy legs. His skin felt more infantile than masculine. In the darkened room. He squinted, "Hi." "I'm John." "I know. I'm James. I was getting vibes from you before." "Good or bad?" "The best." He drew up to kiss me. I pinned him down and frenched his teeth and gums—a warm, deep-throated, passionate exchange presaging things to cum. Our souls bared, our raw pent-up emotions boiled over. I went on auto pilot, as my years as a Top ensured. No, I was not ashamed I craved his disease-ridden, effeminate Gay Ass. We kissed. I tweaked his Nips. I sucked his spongy Dick till it grew tall and proud. I licked his hairy Balls, savoring even the random, cloying strays I extracted off my tongue. My hormones raged. I nudged him over so I could rim his Ass. I smelled the remnants of a recent bout of diarrhea and plunged on in. The Queer began to whimper which only served to whet my appetite. I rimmed him deeper, straining to please and compensate for all the undeserved ill-will. "I'd love to fuck you." "I'm full blown POZ." "I think I know what POZ is all about." It was then or never. "Might be better in my room. More privacy" I squeezed his knobby hand and pulled him to his feet. Fleetingly we kissed again before I led him up the stairs and down the hall, past the TV Room where the guys were prone to congregate. But, like I say, it was a quiet Monday night, and the TV set was off. No witness saw us traverse the halls, which was just as well—for I wasn't yet prepared to deal with the ostracism about to come my way. The vicious catcalls already reverberated in my ears. You that hard up? You have to fuck that Sicko Queen? I never once released his hand. It was like I was emboldened by his unassuming feminine mystique. I felt the certitude of one who's finally met his match, the paramour who was destined to become my live-in mate for the few years we had left.
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I've been single for about 4 years. During this time I've had a fairly regular fuck bud. He's black, hung, fairly dom and muscular. he's also smart and a hell of a lot of fun to be with. If I'm honest with myself I have to admit I'm in love with him. When we first met (on line) both our bios said we were neg and only fucked safe. Our first fuck was great and it quickly became a regualr thing. After the third or forth time we hooked up, he said, "I gotta tag that ass" and proceeded to fuck me raw. I totally loved it, yet later felt very guilty. So I called him and confessed about my real status. He sounded a little uncomfortable but said he was cool with it and changed the subject. I later changed my on line status to POZ and have been openly poz since. We continued to hook up, hang out . I fell in love. We always used a rubber. Once I tried to tell him I love him, but he changed the subject. About two years ago I was at his place and I noticed a bottle of HIV meds sitting on the coffee table. with his name on it . We even have the same doctor! I pretend not to see it, then excused myself. When I came back, the bottle was gone. Long story, but I now believe he's been poz for many years, he was prolly infected by his first bf who had a wicked crack habit. In the last six months or so he's stared fucking me raw. I never asked him, he just started doing it. I totally love it, and based on what he says when we're fucking (like "You want my fucking load? tell me you want my fucking load" etc) I can tell he really likes it too. But, based on his behavior, I think he feels guilty about it later. So my question is: Should I tell him I know he's poz? Should I tell him how much I want his cum inside me? Would this make us closer or would he freak? Oh yeah, did I mention I'm in love with him?
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The other night I was online with my barebackrt profile open and got a hit from a cute younger guy who was into leather, bareback, cum and who was curious about watersports. His profile described him as 27, bb bottom, HIV neg (recently tested hiv neg as of 3/2010), vers bottom 5'7" 145 hairy bottom. From his pics I knew I wanted to breed his ass! After chatting for a while and after I described my play room for him, he asked if I had any other HIV neg tops who would fuck him if he came over. I told him sure, and I described a fuck buddy, Steve, who was 44 year old, hot and a top, who I knew would love to join in and breed him. Now, Steve and I had played before, but as we are both tops, we had never fucked, but I knew he had a great cut eight inch cock and that we had enjoyed sucking each other off to completion. The kid agreed, so I spoke with Steve, who agreed to join us, and when I told Steve I was going to save-up a big load to blow into the kid, Steve readily agreed to do the same. Over the next couple of days I arranged the play session, and when both the kid and Steve showed up to my place at the same time, the three of us stripped naked in the play room where I had set-up a sling as well as a bondage table (just in case one of us decided he wanted to surrender control). Within minutes the kid was sucking us, and very quickly both Steve and I went to full erection. The kid unsuccessfully tried to take both of us in his mouth at the same time. His face might have been as cute as hell, but he just couldn't orally simultaneously handle the two of us. After getting some pre-cum from both of our hard cocks, Steve decided the boy was ready to take his hard dripping cock up his ass! As the kid was doing a great job sucking my cock, Steve slowly slid his raw thick cock deep up the boy's ass, and soon was ramming his cock all the way up the kid's hole, while making him take my cock all the way to the base! The kid choked several times in doing this, but moaned for more, even as he kept swallowing my cock with each deep thrust Steve gave him. By this point of watching this hot bottom get fucked raw by Steve's huge cock, I was determined to get into the kid's ass, so I switched places with Steve and found myself fucking a very tight and wet ass. The kid loved it when I pulled out, only to slam myself home again. My balls began to tingle, and I knew I had to stop right then or that I would load him right away. The whole time the kid had Steve's in his mouth. I withdrew, knowing from the prior e-mail exchanges that the kid wanted to be double fucked by the two of us, so I lay down on the bondage table and had the kid sit on my cock, and when my cock was lodged deep in the kid's hole, I gestured for Steve to climb on board and slide his hard cock deep into the kid. The feeling was amazing. I could feel my hard cock right next to Steve's, while both of our cocks were lodged in the kid's ass. After some hard pounding by both Steve and me, I felt as if I was about to loose it. The kid asked me not to cum so we took a break and Steve and I switched positions, so he was on his back, the kid sat on Steve's cock, while I slid in from the top. I'm watching all the action on the mirror in the room and Steve's fat cock and the kids tight ass is taking a toll. Again I felt my balls tingling. I knew I wanted to breed this kid. Fortunately, by this time the kid was begging me to cum in his ass. "Cum in my ass!" "Come on, give me that hot load!" Nothing turns me on more than to hear the bottom begging for my load. "Give me your cum!" I can't hold back any longer and blow my three-day load up the kid's tight hole, coating Steve's hard cock in the process. In fact, Steve exclaimed he could feel the cum pulsating out of my cock into the kid's hole, a point the kids seconded. After cumming, I remained lodged in the kid's ass for several minutes, only to watch my cum flow out onto Steve's crotch when I withdrew. The kid then want to be fuck in the sling and as I was the only one who had cum, they quickly moved over to the sling. As Steve started to fuck the kid, I fed my cum and ass juice covered cock to the kid as I slowly jacked the kid's rock hard cock. A few minutes into this I told Steve I needed to get more of my cum on my cock for the kid to lick off so Steve and I switched places, which allowed me to fuck the kid some more until I had a large glob of my cum on top of my cock. Then I pulled-out, Steve took my place, and I fed the kid my tasty cock! Steve fucked with tremendous vigor, and soon was fucking full-depth into the kid's hole. The kid, meanwhile, begged for his second load of the night, demanding Steve "Fuckin' cum in my ass hole!" and "I want you to add your cum to his load up my ass!" After a few minutes Steve commented "I'm going to cum. Where do you want it?" "Breed my hole, and mix your cum with the load that's already in there," the kid stated. Steve tensed up and I knew he was on the cusp of breeding the kid. "Oh, fuck, fuck," Steve yelled as he approached the cusp of breeding the kid. At the same time my cock was down the kid's throat and I jacked him off to a huge orgasm. The first volley of cum hit the wall behind the kid, then the subsequent shots blasted the kid's chest, neck and stomach. Steve and I licked the cum off the kid and the three of us enjoyed a three-way kiss, sharing the kid's load as Steve's cock slowly softened and a large glob of cum hit the floor as he withdrew. Afterwards the three of us enjoyed the after-sex glow, and casually chatted about the experience and other hot fucks we had enjoyed. Eventually the kid left, and Steve hung around to speak with me, and what he had to say was really fucked-up! I had specifically invited Steve because I knew he was neg, and the kid only wanted to take neg cum. Steve then told me that two weeks earlier he had been diagnosed as poz, adding that he hoped I was okay with having played with him. "Sure I am," I replied, but added "the kid, however, was neg, and didn't want to play with poz guys." Steve replied, "Yeah, I know I should have said some thing, but when I saw you breed the kid, I had to add my poz DNA to the mix of cum in the kid's ass." I guess we'll find out if the breeding took or not in a few weeks. I can only hope the kid knows what he's riskign when he takes loads from guys he just met online!
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I’ve been an unrepentant barebacker all my life, even after I tested poz more than 20 years ago. I was 100 percent bottom until about eight or nine years ago, when I discovered the pleasures of breeding men – especially younger guys, whom I feel a special obligation to impregnate with my poz seed for the next generation of pigs. Even though I’m mostly top now, I’m always ready to flip and surrender my hole to other poz/AIDS brothers who will recharge and strengthen my seed. My dick gets rock hard and drips when I think about the hot time I had with a guy I met on the Web several years ago. His name was Alex, and we made a date to meet on one of my semi-regular trips back to my hometown. He said he had full-blown AIDS, and he was looking for pigs who would continue to carry and spread his strain after he croaked. I assured him I’d spread his strains to hundreds of other raw pigs. I explained to him that I have a twisted obsession with poz seed and that nothing gets me hotter than swapping tainted fluids with other poz pigs. He was flattered that I wanted to take and transmit his DNA to the next generation. I went straight to his place after checking into my hotel, and I can still remember how hot he looked when he opened the door, naked except for an open bathrobe. Alex was white, late 40s, 6-foot-2 and about 150 pounds of extremely lean muscle and veins. He had a full, thick black moustache that dominated the sunken cheeks on his gaunt face. His cock was 7 inches, thick and heavy like mine, with a huge mushroom head pierced by a PA. He pulled me to him, twisted my pig tit and shoved his tongue deep into my mouth, and I sucked the taste of beer and cigarettes in his spit. I stripped immediately and couldn’t wait to get his loads inside me. I dropped and took his cock in my mouth, making love to his death tool. I’m not much into oral sex (I prefer a hot mouth on my nipples), but knowing his balls and dick carried the juice that I desperately craved drove me mad with lust, and I worshipped him like a god. I gave myself in complete submission, ready, willing and hoping to do anything he asked in return for the unholy privilege of receiving his toxic cum in my guts. Although he’d stopped taking HIV meds about a year earlier, Alex said he needed Viagra to fuck. So while we waited for his dick to get hard, I gladly fucked him and added my strains with his own death cells inside his guts. Although he was taller than me, I had at least 30 pounds of muscle on him, and I easily pinned him to the bed as I wedged my fat dick into his extremely tight hole. We made love, with lots of kissing and talking nasty about AIDS and death, and I didn’t pull out until I’d dumped three loads of my own dirty seed into his guts. Some of it spilled out when I pulled my cock out of him, so I felched it and fed it back to him in a fucking deep, hot kiss. By that time, Alex’s own death tool cock was rock hard. I jumped in his sling, and he aimed his PA directly at my own rarely fucked hole. Using only spit, he slowly but insistently pushed his whole cock into me. It burned like hell, and I knew he was tearing tissue as started pumping. After about 10 minutes we moved from the sling back to the bed so we could kiss more easily while he shared his gift with me. I noticed something red on his dick, and I reached down and fingered my hole to confirm I was bleeding. Strung out on poppers and lust, I begged Alex to ram his dick back inside me, which he did. I don’t get fucked often and it was all I could do to withstand his assault, but the knowledge that he was already dripping deadly precum into my bloodstream only made me hungry for more. We were drenched in sweat and the smell of poppers as he pumped my cunt for another 15 minutes, sharing lots of deep kisses and twisted talk about worshipping AIDS. Finally, my new lover spewed a huge load of his death seed deep into my guts. The intense connection we shared was overwhelming, like a true spiritual experience, and I remember wishing I could die right there as his spasming cock still spewing poison into me. When Alex finally pulled out, my muscle cunt clamped tight to keep his death juice deep inside. I greedily licked the remnants of cum and blood from his dick and shared the precious mixture with him in lots of deep kisses. I spent the night at his place, where we got high on beer, pot, piss and AIDS lust. He dumped three more loads in my hole and I gave him two more of my own seed to share with other pigs. I don’t know if he did: I heard from another bud that Alex died two weeks later. Fortunately, he still lives deep in my sick brain and in the toxic DNA that I continue to spread to other brothers who share my dark, twisted passion.
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