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Liam stopped in unannounced yesterday afternoon. It was his infection (he was stealthed) in April that made me resume my chase out of sympathy and jealously. Liam walked right past security at the front desk and was knocking at my condo door. I dragged myself to the door and panicked when I saw it was Liam. At least I had a shower earlier and was decent, but the condo was a mess. He knows that I'm home so I have to let him in. Plus, he is my best friend that I met when we were freshmen at UW Madison. He's cute, but we never dated or hooked up. He is 5-8, 145, my same age. He is Irish Catholic which is funny because I'm Jewish. He has dark brown hair very neatly cut, fuller on top with a nice wave that cuts across his forehead. He has deep-set dark brown eyes, a pointy kind of nose and thin lips. He's pretty pale and smooth, but he still gets acne on his chin sometimes, like he had yesterday. He has narrow shoulders and a small waist, but manages to not be a total waif because he is so active. He looks and is nice and trusting, which is how he was talked into letting his guard down and not using protection with a guy that told him that he was Neg and on PrEP. Oh Liam, if only you had sent me the Grindr screenshot before you hooked up with GoodExercise I could have told you the truth about him. I could have protected you. Liam looks around at my studio in disbelief. I always keep it so clean and tidy but couldn't keep up the last few weeks first because I was too busy getting fucked by GoodExercise and then because I am now seroconverting with a wicked fuck flu. The place also stinks. Liam looks at me closer. I'm sweaty. I haven't shaved and I need a haircut. And I've lost at least five pounds. I try to cut the interrogation off at the pass and tell Liam that I have a summer cold or maybe even the flu. He calls bullshit. It's not that I'm such a unskilled liar, its just that he knows me so well and the fact that my face is red and I'm looking down at the floor is evidence that he is not going to dismiss just to be polite. Then he continues: Andy, your mom called me. She's worried sick. Now so am I. Don't make me have to drag it out of you. But I tell Liam that I need to keep things to myself until some tests come back because I don't want to worry anybody and anyway he can't keep a secret and I don't want to put him in the middle of anything. Now Liam is red in the face. We are standing in the kitchen so I can get some water because the stress is too much for me, and Liam looks like he is going to punch me in the chest. He's so fucking tense. Then he looks up at the ceiling and starts thinking to himself. He gets a cute little smile, then a frown, then a little light bulb goes off and he chuckles. What's so fucking funny? I get a tight hug and an I love you, Andy. Liam says he understands and that he won't tell anybody. He says: I got HIV, so now you had to go out and get it, am I right? Don't lie or you're dead. Liam promises not to tell my family. We go sit on the edge of the bed to talk some more. It was Jacob, wasn't it? You two got back together and you let him infect you on purpose! Why? I want to play along that its Jacob, but Liam knows Jacob and will confront him. Also, I still like Jacob - he's a dark-haired, olive skinned, deeply closeted Mormon boy with amazing emerald green eyes and a fit little frame that I have nothing in common with other than great sex and sometimes good food and music. Oh yeah, and Jacob is Poz. His dick is too big and his awesome ass is too delectable for condoms as a top or bottom. Jacob broke up with me when he got HIV to protect me from getting it from him. I told him 100 times that it didn't matter and that I would be fine, but Jacob said he couldn't live with himself if he passed it on to me. Of course, getting back with Jacob is a possibility that has been on my mind the last few days when I am awake enough to think straight. But maybe not except for sex because the marrying kind of love was never there for us, I don't think. I tell Liam to please stop blaming everything on Jacob. What does it matter? I think I got it at Steamworks. Liam's not buying it. He bites his lip so hard that I think my lip is going to bleed. You fucker! After what he did to me? Now I should go to the cops. Liam whips out his phone and pretend dials 911. He looks so stupid doing it, I pick up my phone and laugh and do the same thing. Liam grabs for my phone, and I grab for his. We end up rolling and wrestling around on the bed. Not a fair fight because I am so tired and Liam was a JV wrestler. He has me pinned, face down and he reached under my body and tickles my ribs. He knows exactly where to touch me to make me giggle. God damn it, Drewboy, you are a sick fuck. If I jumped off that balcony right now you would do it, too. You better take care of yourself. I'll tell your mom its just the flu, no worries. I feel so close to Liam, and he feels good on top of me making me laugh and feel good. But I know that I can never tell him that I will not be taking meds. That would be too much, at least for now anyway. Liam rolls off of me and gets up out of the bed. He flick on the TV and goes straight to HGTV. Come on Liam, it's House No. 3. Do we have to watch this? Liam tells me to shut the fuck up and get up because there is work to do. He spends the next 45 minutes cleaning my studio. Trash, dishes, bathroom (so gross!) and Swiffer. Then we turn off the TV and go out to the balcony as sailboats come in for the night from Lake Michigan and fools in the park send up fireworks. They broke the mold after they made Liam, they really did. Liam says he has to go, but he stops and gets his phone back out. He texts me the link to his HIV doctor. I do a much better job lying this time when I promise to call and make an appointment. That's not going to happen. I sit alone and think about things. Why am I doing this? I could make an appointment, right? I grab my own phone and look at the link Liam sent. The doctor is nice looking. But then I go to YouTube and pull up a bookmarked video featuring Pedro Zamora. He died of an AIDS-related illness two months before I was born. He's Cuban. So sexy. He and Jacob share some common features even though Jacob is not Latin at all as far as he knows. Pedro is in a hospital bed, and I want to join him for a conjugal visit. Who will remember me the way so many people remember him? Mom will. Liam will. And they'll still love me just like Pedro's gay family and straight friends still love him. The next app is Grindr. There's GoodExercise, he finally unblocked me after I found him on here and begged him to forgive me for flaking last summer and to give me what he gave Liam. Which he did. Mark (GE) suggests we find a bottom for a 3way. Chicago clears out on holidays, so who's around? Mark tells me to just be ready in 20 minutes and he will stop up with or without a third. Fifteen minutes. Nothing. Eighteen minutes. Nothing. Twenty minutes and 30 seconds. Knock! Mark demands punctuality. Boy, I learned that the last few weeks. But he also is always on time himself. Aside from what he did to Liam and who knows how many others, he's a really nice guy. 46, 5-11, 185. Decent shape. 7c and thick. Reliably big loads. Amazing rimmer. Two men are standing in the hallway. Mark and our third. Hey. Shake. Hey. I'm Bjorn. Andrew. Hey. Nice place. Thankfully, Liam helped me out there, but would it have mattered? Mark never mentioned Bjorn before, but we have only been talking for the last few weeks (when we're not fucking or I'm not dealing with the fuck flu that he gave me). From Minneapolis. Visiting a friend from college. 24. Very fit. Slim. 6-1. 170. He has tiny bags under his eyes, except they are not bags because the lines are so sharp and they are not puffy. Short dark hair. Heavy scruff almost a beard and even heavier in the mustache area. Dark eyes. Straight, long nose prominent on his rectangular face. Full lips that part with a smile to reveal large central incisors that look strong like all of the features on his masculine face. Character lines and even narrow vertical dimples that appear with ease and disappear with barely a trace. Bjorn is handsome, manly and quite fucking lovely. Little curls of chest hair protruding above the collar of his t-shirt. Hairy forearms and legs. Watch on backwards. Blue workout shorts and a white NYPD t-shirt. Are you joking me? This guy is sexy! Mark is a friend of Bjorn's college buddy, and they all had brunch last weekend. Bjorn has been trying to get Mark in bed, but Mark has been busy with a friend at home nursing a sinus infection. That's a good one. This is Bjorn's last night in Chicago and Mark almost turned him down again, but Bjorn dug for more information and finally got Mark to admit that he is banging me. Mark showed him my picture, and Bjorn wanted in on the action because I'm cute. I'm cute? Dude, you are fucking going to catch my condo on fire you are so hot. Bjorn wants to see the balcony. He takes in the view as cars go by on Lake Shore Drive and some fireworks still light up the sky. I stand right up against the side of Bjorn, and Mark is standing behind me, rubbing his hardon into my ass and kissing the side of my neck. Why aren't you all over Bjorn, Mark? You've had me plenty the last few weeks. You've had me completely, in fact. Mark gets on his knees behind me and pulls my shorts down to my ankles. The concrete has to be rough on his knees, but his tongue is even rougher on my AIDSHole. Oh, that's a favorite word of his that Mark taught me. My balcony is pretty private and the nearest building is too far away, too far down, or too far to the side for public exposure to be a big risk. Still, this is nuts. Bjorn looks behind me and sees what is going on. Then he looks in front of me and sees my 6.5 inches at full tilt. Bjorn is my exact height, and he turns facing my side left side and places his left hand on my right cheek and pulls me in for a kiss. It must be a cool evening because a chill is running up my spine. One warm tongue buried in my freshly diseased fuckhole and another tangling with my own for a quite unevenly matched battle for who can seduce whom the quickest. Bjorn's right arm extends and the tips of his fingers touch the bottom of my scrotum. Did I whimper? I didn't mean to whimper. I do this shit all the time. Bjorn steadies me with his left arm because I am losing my balance. It's a long way down. Mark is still tonguing my hole with all of the confidence of a world class safe cracker but none of the finesse. Bjorn is smooth, Mark is crude. Bjorn slides his fingers against my scrotum and rests his thumbs on one of my balls, making me sway. Then his open hand cups my balls and his fingers slide back further along the ridge of my perineum. This is not right. Something happened and I don't even have a clue what it might be. Bjorn flicks my tongue with his and pinches and gently pulls a hair down along the path of least resistance. My ballsac is resting against the smoother part of the inside of his forearm, which he pushes up to apply pressure to my nuts while he pulls down to ring a five alarm fire with my intimate hairs. You fucker. Stop this right now. Don't make me fall in love with you, not even for this one night. And then there is a reprieve but not release. Bjorn continues traveling his hand down my love path until his index finger is swirling around my pucker, fighting for space with Mark's tongue and using his saliva to smooth the move. Mark has to feel Bjorn's hairy knuckles on his lips and chin. I can hear Mark sucking on Bjorn's finger, and then I can feel that finger penetrating me. Bjorn explores my inner space as deep as he can with his finger, then another. Oh God, let me be clean. I've had the runs from the Fuck Flu so much and I have eaten so little that I must be clean. But please do not embarrass me with this man. Bjorn withdraws from my nether region, ends our kiss and moves his scruffy cheek against the side of my own unshaved face. He leans in and whispers: Can I suck you? No. No you cannot. Because you cannot even be here. Did I whimper again? Did my dick just ooze another pearl of precum? Bjorn places his hands on my shoulders with his forearms on my chest. He slowly lowers himself to the floor of the balcony, dragging his forearms and hands down my torso until his hands end their journey on the sides of my hips. Bjorn places his sruffy chin up against the base of my cock and looks up at me. His tongue lays against the baggy skin handing where my penis ends and my scrotum begins, all the while Mark's tongue lingers at the place where my Negative life ended and my Positive life began only days ago. Bjorn laps his way up my shaft until his mouth is poised over the head of my cock. Bjorn wraps my cockhead with his tongue and shrink wraps his lips over that crown. This may not be survivable. I steady myself with my hands on the sides of Bjorn's head. His fresh haircut has left sharp ends on his soft hair, and now his full lips are leaving soft kisses on the end of my freshly Poz penis. No, definitely not survivable. Goodbye, World. I knew I would go, but I did not think quite so soon. Us Jews don't believe in Hell, but the heat between my legs from Bjorn and Mark makes me think that the Devil must be climbing up from the balcony below to welcome me to his domain for the sins that I have committed in the past 22 years. Bjorn is a master, and his light beard tickles my groin as he presses into me and constricts his throat around my cock before allowing us both to relax again and draw some air. I think he likes how my hole felt, too, because he is back there again digitally penetrating me and then having Mark suck and slick his finger clean before he slithers back in alongside Mark's yielding tongue. When Bjorn finally leaves my hole to Mark's sole attention, he runs his hands down the inside front of his shorts and pulls the waistband down below the underside of his dangling ballsac. It's dark on the balcony, but Bjorn's manhood makes a clear impression. Is it 8 inches? Maybe. Is it uncut? For sure. And the light hits the base just right, placing into relief the pubic hair that mid-way up his manly shaft. I promised Mark to bottom only for him until I confirmed my HIV status with an OraQuick. But Mark and I both now that I am in the middle (or maybe end, please) of the fuck flu. Maybe tonight I can feel what its like to have those manly shaft hairs rubbing against the sides of my rapacious rectum. Thank you, SAT prep for that word. Oh mom, you invested so much in me. And this is what I do with it. You always say that you just want me to be happy. I am. Bjorn manages to get himself out of his shorts, but he almost loses them over the side of the balcony. Stomp! I step on them at the last second. Dude, I saved your wallet, right? I owed you one, but now you owe me one. Wanna come through for me? Bjorn grabs the shorts and then stands up. His dick could lift an HVAC unit to the top of the Hancock like a construction crane, its so erect and powerful. Mark stands up, too. His knees crack with a sound that echoes against the walls of the balcony. Twenty-four rises with the hushed sound of fine engineering, and 46 rises with a slightly less reassuring sound. Still, I have just had two men, each sexy in their own way, wooing me with their best moves. I want them both. One for the first time and the other for round too many to count. I pull my own shorts the rest of the way off as Mark leads the way back into the condo, and I follow with Bjorn right behind - both of us bare-assed but with our shirts still on. I remove my shirt and sit on the side of the bed with Bjorn and Mark facing me. They have red knees. Dudes, you didn't have to do that. But I loved it. Bjorn removes his shirt, revealing his broad shoulders. There is a patch of thick, dark hair covering the center of his chest that travels up to his neckline and across the tops of his pecs. His midsection above the navel is smooth elsewhere except for rings of hair circumnavigating his little nipples. The pale skin of his abs is marked with muscle. The cuts are not deep, but the muscles are drawn with precision. Bjorn has a full bush that spreads across the tops of his hairy thighs and travels up to his navel. He is more than half-hard, with the foreskin almost fully encasing his glans. Now that we are inside I can see how thick the hair is that travels mid-way up his shaft. The skin on his dick looks smooth and soft except for that hair, which drives me wild. Bjorn lights up when he sees Mark get out of his shorts, revealing his thick, stiff dick. Bjorn reaches down and grabs my hands in his, and pulls me to my feet. He pirouettes me around so that I am standing beside Mark, and he falls flat back onto the bed. Bjorn has his big feet on the edge of the bed and he scoots forward so that his legs are bent upward and spread open. He is hairy everywhere I look except for his massive, smooth balls. I drop to my knees and prepare to feast. Bjorn reaches his palms around to his ass cheeks and spreads himself open. His tiny hole is nearly ridgeless. A darker and thicker pink ring surrounded by a wider, redder outer ring bordered by hairs that sometimes pierce the perimeter. Mark thumps me in my arm with the side of his foot, and tells me to get to it. Bjorn slides himself a little closer, and I am drawn closer to his opening. I can smell how ripe he is even before my tongue lands on his shithole, which I French kiss with not so tender loving care. When I pull back, I can see more. Now Bjorn little hole is open just enough to say welcome home. And it glistens with my spit. Mark stands on the bed and grabs Bjorn by the ankles. He spins him around so that he is in the center of the bed. I climb up and get between his legs with Mark still holding him spread eagle. Bjorn has his hands behind his neck, and he is looking up at Mark and then down at me with a grin. Mark lets go of one leg and retrieves the lube from under the pillow where he knows I keep it. The lube lands right on Bjorn’s dick. Were you aiming? Anyway, Mark gets Bjorn spread eagle again and I lube up. I glide my cock from the upended spot at the base of his back to the periphery where the hair of his ass ends and the smoothness of his balls begin, then back down again to his waiting anus. I’ve only fucked one other guy since coming down with the fuck flu. A dorky guy that I knew was chasing. But I didn’t know what to say or do with Bjorn. Mark cleared his throat. I look up and Mark gives me a nod and says: He knows. My heart flutters and my dick pulses. I glance down at Bjorn. Every feature of his face says Breed Me. His eyes are slightly narrowed, staring into my face with hunger, longing and determination. His mouth is drawn closed, with his lips almost imperceptibly pursed, exposing his character lines and lifting and coloring his cheeks. I run my hands along the hairy inside of Bjorn’s thighs. The firm muscle and soft hair captivate me. My cockhead is right there, awaiting nothing more than for me to marvel at this sexy man that wants something from me that he will get from no other man in his life. I slide in past the head, then most of the way back out. In some more, out a little less. In and out like that until the last movements are perceptible only to the nerves at the end of my penis and on the walls of Bjorns rectum as our nerves intertwine and our juices intermingle. I was overwhelmed by Bjorn’s physical beauty and the tenacious calm that he displayed while revealing himself to possess a dark desire to bond with me and my HIV forefathers just as I had revealed those same desires about myself to Mark in this same condo less than three full weeks ago. Bjorn wrapped his rectum around my cock, uniting us physically. And it seemed that he wrapped my aorta around his heart, uniting us emotionally. Bjorn could not be more exposed to me, but I was doubly exposed to him in a way that felt many times more dangerous than the mere passing of a virus from one lover to another. I rested my face on the side of Bjorn’s muscled calf, and I rested my soul on the side of his embracing spirit. Bjorn rubbed his calf and his spirit against me and into me, and I lost myself in him. He took all of me. Stroke by stroke, spurt by splatter. The seed that has been with me since adolescence and the virus that has been with me since I became a man. The moment did not end until Mark guided Bjorn’s legs down onto the beg, along my sides. I leaned forward into Bjorn and stretched out on top of him. He hugged me. Then his hands roamed down to my backside and his index finger reunited with my anus. Mark lubed us both up, and Bjorn slid his uncut cock up into me until his girth had me gasping for air. I steadied myself, and let Bjorn have me. Bjorn fucked me like this for a long time. Mark laid down beside us and caressed me, kissed Bjorn and stroked his own cock. I could only look at Bjorn in the eyes for a few moments at a time because I kept thinking that I might cry. What I let be done to me, Bjorn just let me do to him. Was it right? Will he test the love of his family and friends? Bjorn pulled me in and kissed me. Then he whispered in my ear once again, like he did on the balcony. Can I cum in you? I whimpered again. I was shaking. Then Bjorn was shaking. Jolting. Pounding. Emptying. When we recovered, Bjorn slowly retreated from inside me. I rolled onto my side, into Mark. Mark knelt between my legs, kissed my cock, lifted my ass off the bed, and lapped my asshole clean with his tongue. Then he did the same for Bjorn, before rolling onto the other side of Bjorn. We cuddled I was out like a light. When I came to, Mark was gone but Bjorn had me in his arms. It was almost 2:00am. Bjorn asked if he should go. I said to stay, and he did. I came to again a few hours later to the sound of the shower. I stayed in bed when Bjorn emerged, silhouetted by the early light of day. Gleaming. New. Mine to have loved, and mine to bid farewell. Bjorn asked if I was okay, he said that I got kind of emotional when he was fucking me. I wanted to sit Bjorn down and tell him about Mom and Liam and their concern for me. About how one must never know any of the truth and the other only the half that ends before getting to the part about me never taking meds. Does Bjorn share that dark secret, too? I smiled, and bent forward and lifted Bjorn’s shirt to kiss him on his treasure trail. Yeah, I’m good. Come see me next time you are in Chicago, okay? I texted Mark to come up for a bit. I told him about Liam. We talked, and I asked for help writing this post. But this I write and say alone: Bjorn, thanks for having me – all of me – in you. Share me. Spread me around. Keep me replicating in you and your lovers to come.
