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This was salvaged from Bugshare.net, the 'Strictly Stories' section. ************************************************************ I was at one of my favorite bookstores and in the mood to play. It was just after lunch time on a sunny Monday. I wasn't sure what I’d find, but it never hurts to look. The parking lot looked promising, anyway. I went in, leaned against the wall, and lit a cig, checking out who was there. There was a really hot Latino, a dude who reminded me of your typical frat boy, and the usual trolls. I missed an opportunity to join Latino and frat boy. They entered a booth together. Damn! I popped in the various booths to see who else was playing but didn't find much. I lit another smoke. The Latino left frat boy’s booth and headed for the exit. Hmm, that was quick! But a couple minutes later he reappeared and knocked on the door. Needed condoms or lube or something, I surmised. Things didn't look promising, so I fed in some tokens, watched a porno, and got myself hard. A couple bucks later, I wandered around to see if anyone new had come in. The stud guy with the goatee was back—he’d fucked me a few weeks before. There was also an older dude who went in the bathroom. He came out spouting one huge fucking bulge, and stroked it through his pants. I didn't even notice that the booth frat boy had occupied was vacant, until he emerged from another booth nearby. He sized me up, then reentered, leaving the door slightly ajar. I wondered if I should take the bait, or see what the other dudes had to offer. What the hell, frat boy was sexy—20’s 5'8" 135, shaved head, sweatshirt, olive pants, and combat boots. I entered his booth and locked the door behind me. After feeding some tokens into the machine, we groped ourselves, each waiting for the other to make the first move. He finally did, and unzipped my jeans. He complimented me on my cock size, and I felt him up. I got his pants down, then his tight whites, and out popped the perfect dick—trimmed blond pubes, smooth balls, and a completely straight cock, perfect thickness, and hard as a rock. He asked me what I was into. “Pretty much anything.” “You fuck?” “Sure.” "Want to fuck me, or want me to do you?" “I usually Bottom.” “Condom?” "Prefer not." That turned him on. I sucked his dick and got it nice and wet. “Drop your pants and bend over. Got any lube?” I did not. He spotted a used condom in the corner, picked it up and dumped whoever’s cum onto his cock and smeared the rest onto my hole. Holy fuck! The dude was a sex pig! He slid his meat all the way in and started to fuck me. God, that combination of cock and anonymous jism felt great! I’m a super pig, too! "I’m fucking your ass bareback, man. Damn this is hot! My raw cock plugging your hole!" "Want to cum in me?” "Fuck, yeah!" "Flood my hole, man! Shoot in me!" Which he promptly did. After he’d cum, but before he pulled-up his pants, I glanced through the glory hole, and the hot goateed dude was stroking his fat cock. Glancing through the hole, Frat boy asked me if I wanted that thick dick in me, too. I backed up to the hole. Frat boy knew what was happening—the expression on my face told him all. He lay down on his back so he could look up and watch the thick cock plow me. He told me that his cum was oozing out of my asshole, and reported, dismayed, that the goateed dude wore a rubber. Still, goatee knew how to fuck, and his hips gyrated like crazy. Goatee dude pulled out and frat boy got up. His neck and chest were splattered with cum that had dribbled out of my ass. I stuck my tongue through the glory hole. Goatee dude stripped off the cum-filled condom and plowed his thick dick down my throat. Frat boy urged me to “clean up that cock.” He wiped his own cum off his chest, stroked it onto his hardening cock, fingered my sloppy hole, and thrust his rod back up my ass. Goateed guy zipped up and left. The older dude entered the booth. He pulled out a stubby fat cock with massive balls and flipped both through the hole. Frat Boy pulled out of my ass and sucked his fat dick. The older dude’s cock grew in length, but more so in girth. Frat boy suggested I back up to the hole and see if the older guy would fuck me. I did so, and the guy played with my asshole—then nothing. I glanced through in time to see him walk out. Frat boy put one arm around me and worked the digits of one hand up my used sloppy hole, while he beat off with the other. "I wonder how many guys here are poz ." I shrugged. He winked and shot his load. I knelt in time to get most of it down my throat. We cleaned up, and he told me how fucking hot it had been and how he hoped we could do it again. He left, and I leaned back against my favorite wall and smoked. I still hadn’t cum. This Lumberjack type came in. He headed for one of the end booths, and I entered the adjoining one. It was getting late, and I really needed to get off. I didn't even look through the hole—just dropped my jeans and stroked my dick. Needing coins for the machine, I bent down to grab some tokens from my pants pocket. My ass grazed the hole. Lumberjack thrust his dick through and pushed against my ass crack. I squatted, spread my cheeks, and guided his cock into my asshole. His belt buckle clanked against the partition with each thrust. I started jacking. As I shot, my ass muscles contracted tightly about his rock hard cock. He spasmed and shot up my ass. He beat a hasty retreat to the exit. On my drive home I wondered about frat boy, or pig boy, or whatever you want to call him, and his comment to me: "I wonder how many guys here are poz ." Strange he should mention that. Did either one of us care?
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I think Gay Men have it all over Straight Men when it cums to losing their Virginity because we can do it three ways. First you fuck a guy; and, second, the guy fucks you; and third, the guy KNOCKS YOU UP. Do I make myself clear? I've always been kind of Anal, even before I knew that two guys could Fuck and all about AIDS. FUCKING has always been a fixation with me, and when HIV came along, it was like Color TV. I had to be the first on my block to have it. At age 6 I remember my best friend finger-fucking me. I can be sure of my age because his family moved away after first grade; and, sadly, we never saw each other again. A few years later, I got this little toy rocket for Christmas, a simple thing really. It was hard plastic, about 6 inches long and thick as your finger. It fit tightly on a small base. The trick to it was to pour baking soda and vinegar into it, jam it onto the base; and the chemical reaction would send it soaring into the air. Exciting as my new toy was, I soon tired of it. But I kept the little rocket; and at 14, it became my first “Dildo.” There was this boy in class I had a crush on. He was blonde, blue eyed, athletic, and a genuinely nice guy. Why wouldn’t I name my rocket after him? It wasn't until years later that the Freudian slip of naming my “Dildo” after my “Idol” sank in. In spite of my anal play and good grades, I was a very naïve kid. Most of my early sexual experience consisted of hand jobs and some oral. From 17 on, I met guys who wanted to Fuck. I really wanted to accommodate them, but it never worked out. I was too shy, too insecure, too tense, and too TIGHT. Every time I tried it, the PAIN was intense. I couldn't relax; and to my displeasure, I remained—a Virgin. When I was 20, I met Jay at a Frat Party. He was a cute Blonde with a killer smile, blue eyes, 6' tall, and very slim. He invited me back to his place. Once in the sack, I was amazed at what a kind and gentle lover he was. We made out forever, kissing and hugging, creating big ugly hickeys. Then he said the words I dreaded to hear. “DO YOU FUCK?" Oh, Man, did I want it! Between the conversation we'd had at the Party, and the tenderness and passion he displayed in the Bedroom, I was really turned on. And I wanted Him to be the one to take my Cherry. But there was a problem—a thick 8” problem jutting straight out of his Crotch. The other guys who had tried to fuck me were all smaller, and it hadn't worked out. I told him I was a Virgin, that I had tried it before, with no luck. He lay me on my back, pushed my legs in the air, and tongue-fucked me. Then, applying a ton of lube, he pressed in. I felt the familiar, excruciating PAIN. He stopped, but the PAIN didn't, so he withdrew. "WELL, SOMEONE’S GONNA GET FUCKED HERE TONIGHT; AND I GUESS IT’S GONNA BE ME." He put some lube on my dick, rolled over on his belly, and, guided me into his hole. I pushed in, and while he was tight, he didn't resist like I had; and my six-inches slowly slid in. I lay there a moment, letting his inner heat engulf me, feeling his sphincter draw me into him, desperately trying not to cum on the spot. Jay and I were Lovers for months, but our relationship was never really consummate—because he couldn’t screw me. One night, after we’d split, I was feeling extra horny and returned to the Campus. I had dropped out of school, but went back on occasion to visit friends or hang out. I’d discovered this Gay Bar on the edge of the Campus. Plus there was a Cruising area near the Admin Building called “The Wall.” First, I checked out The Wall, but there was nobody there; so I headed over to the Bar. After three rums-and-cokes, I was noticeably weaving and debated whether I could safely drive home. Hoping the jaunt might sober me up, I returned to The Wall. I passed by a Blonde in his 20’s. I looked over my shoulder, and he was gazing my way. He did an about face and got right to the point. "Hi. I'm Chris. Got a place?" I explained that I lived with my parents some 40 miles away. He said he had an apartment off Campus, but we’d have to be quiet so as not to awaken his Roomie. I learned he was a Grad Student and that he was POZ, but that he’d PLAY SAFE if I wanted. The wheels started to churn. POZ? I’d never been with a POZ man before—that I knew of. What would it be like to take a lethal dose of POZ JIZZ, knowing it had the potential to kill? And, in turn, to have the Power of Life and Death over others? WHAT A GIFT! I knew I had to have it! My raging hardon strained against the fabric of my briefs. I must have gotten real quiet, because he said: “Look, If IT bothers you, forget it.” “I’m not sure of my Status. Guess I’ve lost track….” [i’d tested NEG two weeks before.] “…So it doesn’t really matter. In fact, I prefer to play BARE.” He grunted his assent. When we reached the apartment, he grabbed a couple of beers from the Frig and we settled down in the Living Room. Talking in whispers, we drank and undressed. The couch was small, noisy and uncomfortable, so we ended up on the carpet. Before I knew it, Chris hoisted my legs in the air. He pressed my thighs into my chest, and kissed me. He greased up his dick, and liberally applied lube to my hole, slowly working one finger in, then another and another. He slid in me, A VERY FULL FEELING, but NO PAIN! Soon, he had shaft buried in my Cunt. He rose up to apply more leverage. He pounded me harder and faster, plowing his Pole into me, hitting my Prostate, making me quiver. He rolled me over and entered me from behind. He kept plugging away, like a Fucking Machine. It struck me that I was no longer a “Virgin.” I found that hilarious, and I giggled. His face flushed with Anger; and he said he was about to fill me with POZ JIZZ, and see if I could laugh about that. Laugh I did not. On the contrary, I bucked up against him to welcome the Toxic Intrusion. As he started to shoot, my ass muscles contracted around him. His Venomous Load spewed up my Mancunt. I thanked him, we kissed, and I left. As I walked back towards the Bar, I could feel my cummy ass cheeks squishing together. At last I’d found the MISSING LINK: IT TOOK HIV TO FULFILL ME. I giggled my way across Campus and strolled back into the Bar. I'm sure not a few of the patrons wondering WHO had made me so happy. But it wasn’t a WHO—it was AIDS. The next day, I went to see Jay. I told him the news. "I DID IT! GOT FUCKED! I FINALLY GOT FUCKED!" In one long, breathless sentence, I told him the story, but I could see that something was wrong. "You’re one sick puppy, Eddie. He was POZ—and you let him do you BAREBACK. I feel sorry for you, Eddie.” Realizing it was over between us, I said my good-byes and walked out. As you might suspect, tight as I was, I converted on my very first Fuck. Jay and I never did talk again, except for a glancing nod at the Bar. At the end of summer, he moved to Phoenix, and we completely lost touch. I entered into a relationship with another POZ dude and moved in. As for Chris? I met him and his Lover (the mysterious Roomie whom we’d tried not to disturb), and the three of us got to be buddies. I never told Chris he’d been MY FIRST and MY POZ BENEFACTOR.
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