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I’m a depraved bottom. I want to be used and treated like the sub human scum I am. But I find that most men just want to use me as a cumdump - a place to dump their load out, and then be done with me. And that of course is fine, as that is most certainly what I am good for. However, I find it difficult to find guys who want to use me as their toilet, their slave, their punching bag. And that makes me sad! I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, but I am looking for others who feel like this, and those who have suggestions on how to find men willing to use me the way I should be. [the catalyst to this post was that just last week, I was hooded and ass up in a motel room. Two guys arrived almost back to back. While one guy was fucking me, the other made his way into the bathroom to piss. As he made his way, I said to him to piss on me, and he wouldn’t! I couldn’t understand how a guy who arrived to fuck my throat, then fuck my ass and load me was above pissing on me. After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the toilet, and how badly I wanted my face in that toilet water - so much so that after these guys left, I kneeled in front of the toilet and started fucking myself with a plug while lapping up the piss water - but it wasn’t the same as coming from the tap]. So, any thoughts/ suggestions/ similar feeling pigs? -
One man’s blessing is another man’s curse and for me I’ve got more than my share – an extra long dick (just over 10 inches), an extra wide dick (just shy of 8 inches round), and I shoot cum like a farm animal (up to ¼ of a cup a time). Truly. The dick? Well that’s thanks to my father for sure who was even bigger than me and the cum? Well I don’t know, could be him too, but the doctors call it Hyperspermia - a condition in which a man can ejaculate a massive volume of semen and and extra bonus is it comes with a high sex drive - thus my continuous frustration. Sex for me has almost always been a series of one frustrated encounters after another. Fucking size queens hit me all the time bragging how they can take me, how they love big dick, how they want my cum – that is until I split their hole open with just the few inches and then they fucking tap out and run. I’ve never worn condoms; my hyperspermia makes that impossible as the amount of precum I produce makes my dick so wet and slick they won’t stay on. That’s how I got AIDs – splitting bottoms open. I learned quickly a little blood was a given, a lot was expected and for me, doesn’t bother me in the least. For the bottom? Yeah they freak and make me stop. So to get by and try to relieve my constant need to nutt, I’ve sold condoms online full of my cum, made some pay-to-play solo porn flicks of me shooting, escorted trying to give facials or creampies, sold batches of my load to a fertility clinic, and I even created a Tumblr account talking about my curses and thinking I’d document those bottoms I found who could take me and wanted my POZ load. None of that really helped or panned out in the end. Just wasn’t the same. Have I fucked and bred a guy totally before. Yeah, of course, but few and far between and so I mostly have to be satisfied with a little oral, a little ass around the tip of my dick, then finishing off when I am home and alone. I want more, I need more, I need to breed and infect some ass and fill a bottom’s guts full of my cum – why else would God have given me what he did? I had frankly about given up until one day when I received an email: “Good afternoon. I am Dr. Mike. My practice has recently begun a new treatment regimen for some of my patients that I believe you are perfect for. I have many years of developing specialized, treatment regimens for my patients and would like to invite you to come to my office on Monday at 3:00 p.m. for a consultation. There is no fee for the visit or treatment regimen. Please refrain from all sexual activity for at least 48-hours prior to the visit so I can fully assess the volume of your semen output and your ability to ejaculate more than once for comparison purposes.” OK, I wasn’t exactly sure how this Dr. Mike thought he could help me since no one else had ever been able to. I tried to find what I could online about Dr. Mike and there was the standard fare, but his medical specialties did include treatment of HIV, AIDs, and other infectious diseases. What was surprising was how little there was about him. Most doctors these days have social media and site after site. Not this Dr. Mike. He was almost like a ghost – almost – but in digging through some chat rooms on the dark web I did come across a series of stories that mentioned Dr. Mike doing some pretty twisted, fucked up shit that made my dick drool and bounce and I quickly emailed him back to confirm I would be there. Dr. Mike’s office was located in Northeast Washington, DC, in an older brick building. I got to the office and rang the bell as the office was closed for the day. I waited a few minutes and then heard the locks turn, the door opened, and I was met by a man in white coat. Dr. Mike was in his mid 40s I guess, about 5”11, 180, and fairly clean cut looking and I thought handsome. He shook my hand, asked me to step inside, and locked the door. I then followed him through another door and down a hall and his office was like the rest of the building, older and somewhat run down looking. Near the end of the hall he stopped and motioned me to enter an exam room that was somewhat bare except for an odd table contraption bolted to the middle of the floor that was occupied by an apple assed guy. The guy was kneeling on a small bench part of the exam table on a pillow, with his chest on the table, his arms forward and his head resting on its side. A leather hood was strapped to his head, hiding his features and all that could be seen were closed eyes, his nostrils, and mouth that was slightly agape, relaxed. Leather straps wound around his calves, thighs, and he looked like a big Z splayed out. The next thing I noticed were several Polaroid Cube cameras attached to the metal table and on several small tripods all pointed to the guy’s ass from various angles. Yet, that was not the strangest part. I hesitated as I looked at the IV pole that was at the end of the odd table next to a set of monitors being watched by another man in a white coat who wore a medical mask that was inflating and deflating against his face as he breathed in and out. The other man was speaking softly to the guy on the table, “Time to dream little man.” I turned to the squeak of a metal stool being rolled away from a small table as Dr. Mike pointed to a chair by the door and said, “Please disrobe and sit in the chair here please.” I looked from him, to the other man, to the bottom. I was confused about what was going on but the sight of the that naked body looking like a sacrifice on an altar stirred my deep, dark desires and needs. I sat down in the chair, my naked ass sticking to the leather seat as Dr. Mike rolled himself close and flipped open a manila folder. “Normally I would want to do a full set of labs myself and an exam, but I received a copy of your medical file from your previous doctor and well – both your HIV and hyperspermia are well documented so I figured we should dispense with such pleasantries and get right to it.” My dick started to lengthen. Dr. Mike motioned to guy on the table, “Most gay men wait too long to get tested for rectal cancer. It is best to start young and technology now allows us to test in the office with High Resolution Anoscopy, but it does require anesthesia – a special cocktail of Fentanyl, Ketamine, Propofol, and a few other medications.” What the fuck? I knew what those drugs were, well at least I had heard of them and I looked again at the man in the white coat and the guy on the table. Fuck! They had drugged him and knocked him out! Dr. Mike set the open folder partially on my right leg, my dick now hardening more and stretching down my left. He started to ask me a series of questions and I hesitated and looked at the other man. Dr. Mike followed my gaze, shifted his stool to block my view, set his hand on my thigh in a reassuring manner and said, “Do not mind Dr. Collins,” and with that continued his questions and making the appropriate notes in his folder. “Are you currently off all meds?” I lied and said, “No.” Dr. Mike paused; frowned a little, set his pen in the crease of the folder and with his right hand reached out and grabbed the shaft of my now hard dick. “I need you to be totally honest with me if you please,” he said, “Unlike other doctors you may have seen in the past I need the unvarnished truth and not an answer that you think should be given or that you erroneously believe I may wish to hear. Understand?” I nodded and he asked again, “Are you currently off all meds?” This time I answered honestly and said, “Yes and no. I take them sometimes because…well I had read that if you do that then you can become resistant, and I just wanted to…I...” Dr. Mike smiled, made a note in his file, set his pen back in the folder and reached out again and this time slowly stroked my dick a couple times as he said, “Thank you for being honest. Yes, you can build a resistance and I will draw some blood so we can order a genotype test to confirm exactly which meds you are resistant too and then plan accordingly.” I moaned as his touch made me lose focus, but I blurted, “Yeah but I don’t want to take… or be…I…” Dr. Mike smiled, leaned in a little, stroked my dick a little faster and said, “Oh you misunderstand. Our goal is to INCREASE your resistance and viral count. That is what you want isn’t it?” What the fucking kind of doctor was he? My dick answered for me as it started to drool. The questions from Dr. Mike continued, “Do you use any recreational drugs? Willing to do others? Known STDs besides AIDs? Do you have receptive anal intercourse? Penetrated a bottom fully against his will? I imagine it is difficult given your size. Let me see – yes – I expect only a bottom with years of fisting could naturally take you.” Dr. Mike’s stroking skills were superior, that’s for sure yet somehow I don’t think he learned that in medical school. Dr. Mike continued with his list of questions and it was increasingly difficult to focus. Apparently satisfied, he closed the folder, rolled back over to the small table, grabbed an iPad, flipped opened the cover and showed me a video that had been paused. “This is Lucas,” Dr. Mike said as he tapped the video and it started to play. There was a yellow sticky note on the screen covering the person’s head, but from the wisps of hair that showed and the clothed body whose size seemed to match the guy on the table, appeared to be a shy twink of a guy - young but legal. Lucas had recorded a message verbally affirming he was legal, and his willing to submit to all ‘treatments and procedures’ as prescribed by Dr. Mike and Dr. Collins on that date, among the other stand release and approval statements. The video finished and Dr. Mike said, “I can assure you that the person in the video is the same as the one currently being monitored by Dr. Collins. Patient confidentiality requires that his face be covered even though you are now part of his treatment team. You understand? This is totally anonymous. You will never know his identity, nor he yours.” At the word ‘anonymous’ my dick spasmed and a long line of nutt drool proceeded down my thigh. Dr. Mike smiled in a way that held no warmth or humor. He then tapped the iPad screen a couple times, swiped, and I could hear sound as another video started. Dr., Mike adjusted the sticky note then turned the iPad around so I could see. In this one, the guy was naked, his arms out wide as he did slow turns that showed his hot ass and tiny twink dick. He paused facing the camera and began to speak in the same voice as the first video. The twink stated his first name, stats, and this time the message release statement was not the kind found on any standard form: “My name is Lucas Si…just Lucas. I am of sound mine and judgment and confirm that I have asked for a no limits fuck today. I am aware I may be unconscious and unable to provide further consent, but I DO consent. Totally. I want this. I want to get rape fucked by some big dick and be a total cum dump. Have totally been fantasizing about it for like forever and… well…so today it may happen – I mean will happen. No one is forcing me to do this. I am volunteering and WANT it. I also want it raw, no condoms at all, and understand the guy or guys who may fuck me might HIV+ or whatever. I don’t care. That shit don’t matter to me whatever they got. It’s all good. I’m on PREP so it’s all good. I just…hell! Is that good? Can we get this shit started? I’m horny as shit and need some dick!” Dr. Mike smiled that dark smile again and said, “As you can see. All legal bases are covered no mattered what may come. I am quite proficient in working within the boundaries set by my profession as well as expanding those boundaries as needed. One final note. What would you say – hypothetically of course –if there was an individual such as say someone like this young man you just saw on the video who in their mind can only imagine something like a big hit of G? Imagine how they would feel after the fact becoming aware of the full extent of the ‘party hole’ they went down. Also – hypothetically – wouldn’t it be a shame if the same young man BELIEVED they were on PREP when actuality they were on a placebo combo as part of a blind drug trial they had previously consented to? Especially one in which the results had shown rampant degradation of their immune systems due to other factors prescribed as part of their treatment regimen?” Damn! This was one fucked up doctor and with every word my dick pulsed and continued to stream more precum. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say or what to do, but my dick did as Dr. Mike reached out, wrapped his warm hand around my pulsing shaft, and expertly stroked it. “I know you have tried to find bottoms that would allow you to POZ them, that would allow you to flood them with your fountain of death,” he said with a calm voice full of confidence in every statement. “I know you have no qualms making a bottom bleed. I know you always hold back when you have intercourse – physically in the act as well as in your ejaculation. That is unhealthy and as your physician, I must provide a treatment regiment that will ensure your full well-being.” I leaned back in the chair and moaned in pleasure as Dr. Mike’s fingers deftly worked my dick as he continued, “You have been given a gift – many gifts – and those gifts need to be shared – and so I offer the first of but many cum dumps for you to use, to mark, to infect, to enjoy in ways you never imagined possible.” I groaned again and licked my lips as my breathing got faster and my heart started to race. Dr. Mike suddenly released his grip on my dick, rolled his stool to the side, grabbed another clipboard, held out a pen with a disarming smile, but an evil glint in his eyes and said, “These are the consent forms for your treatment. Sign and date here – initial here – there.” He flipped the page, “This page affirms that there is no monetary payment due, however there is a co-pay of no consequence that we will address later.” I couldn’t put pen to paper fast enough and once the forms were signed, Dr. Mike rolled his stool back, set the clipboard down, stood up, gestured towards the waiting ass with his left hand and said, “My patient is waiting,” before he calmly walked over and stood by the tied up bottom. Nervously I stood up and followed: my raging dick leading the way and dripping my toxic cum in long drools with every step. Just inches from the unconscious bottom I realized how my dick was perfectly aligned with his waiting hole as if…as if Dr. Mike knew my exact height and other measurements and had planned accordingly. But how? Dr. Mike just smiled and nodded as I tentatively stepped closer, my flesh pressing against the bottom’s. I turned to Dr. Mike who said nothing, but just nodded. I gently reached out and inserted my right index finger between the waiting mounds of twink flesh. His ass crack was totally hairless, as was the rest of his body – whether natural or manicured – it did not matter, it was sexy as fuck! I slid my finger against his puckered ass ring and with but the slightest effort of pressure it slowly opened and sucked my finger in to the hilt. No resistance, no squirming, no fighting. The bottom suddenly let out a low, guttural moan and I yanked my finger back in surprise and shock. Dr. Mike just chuckled and with his hands still clasped in front of him like he was monitoring a science experiment of no regard, he turned to Dr. Collins and ordered, “A little more if you please.” Dr. Collins flooded the IV input with a wave of milky white slumber. Dr. Mike turned and looked at me expectantly. I had never really fucked in front of an audience and the whole situation was beyond fucking strange. Dr. Mike held out his hands, palms up in an apologetic gesture and said, “Given the current treatment, at least this time, I must be here to attend my patients – you and him. In the future – if you decide to continue under my care – I expect that will not be necessary and only Dr. Collins will need to monitor such aspects of your visits. However, my plan for treatment is that – based on your performance – hypothetically of course, that a first treatment may be such as we have today with the patient totally unaware and unconscious. Next time, maybe it will be a lighter sleep. The time after, maybe semi-conscious, but still restrained. The time after that? Who knows? You may find that having your way with someone completely restrained yet fully conscious is more to your – shall we say medical needs?” There was that fucking dark smile again. Dr. Mike was an evil, twisted, son of a bitch and part of me wanted to be just like him! I needed to fuck. I needed to breed that ass and knowing he was knocked out, anonymous, NEG, and that I might infect him sent me to the fucking moon! I stepped closer, lining my dick head with Lucas’ asshole. No, no names – this was just some cum dump – some dirty bottom willing to take any raw dick and I planned to POZ him good. This time I jammed three fingers all at once at that ass ring and just like before it opened, but damage was done. Dr. Mike issued a small chuckle and “Yes!” as I dug my nails into the bottom’s hole, harder and harder, over and over, yearning to break through the walls of his drug induced state to hear him moan in pain and beg for mercy. That never happened, which only spurred me on to finger fuck his hole rougher. I glanced to the side to see Dr. Mike adjust his own hard dick and I smiled. Yeah, that’s right, I could be as twisted as he was, just watch. This bottom would remember the day I bred him and when I finally pulled my fingers out they were nice and red. I then started to slap his ass – full on arm swings – and those apple cheeks went from white, to pink, to red, to shades of purple in no time. God damn I wanted to bust right then! My hand hurt from slapping him so hard and yet not a single moan or sound escaped those pink little lips that protruded from the leather hood over his head. While Dr. Mike was clearly into it, Dr. Collins seemed oblivious and totally focused on his patient and the monitors. Fine by me. I took a step back, slid my right hand up and down my shaft a few times to coat my death rod with my POZ, sticky precum, wiped my hands on the bottom’s sides, then grabbed the two biggest handfuls of flesh that I could and squeezed and dug in. I PAUSED, LOOKED AT DR. MIKE, AND AS HE MET MY EYES I SLAMMED MY DICK THROUGH THE BOTTOM’S OUTER HOLE AND BURIED MYSELF INSIDE HIM! The bottom’s body made no movement at all as I ripped him open. The pillow beneath his legs became stained. While I expected to see the waves of pain ripple through his body, his ass never clenched, never tried to push me out, never fought back. Somewhere between his fresh stab wounds and his brain all nerve impulses just faded away – thank you Dr. Collins! I clenched his flesh tighter in my grasp. I wanted him to be bruised, sore, and it was time to rape some ass. I grunted and growled as I pulled out and slammed all 10-inches+ of my raw dick into my victim’s hole and the more it got wet, the harder I fucked. My balls were bursting, ready to breed and infect this cum dump. My fountain of death was ready to explode like Deep Water Horizon and forever alter the world! I PICKED UP MY PACE, AND FUCKED AS HARD AS I COULD. I WANTED TO RAPE THAT ASS – HURT IT – INFECT IT – BREED IT – FILL HIS GUTS WITH MY LOAD! DR. MIKE WAS RIGHT – I HAD MANY GIFTS AND THIS BOTTOM WOULD GET THEM ALL AND AS I LOOKED DOWN AND SAW MY RED-COATED DICK I LOST IT – FROZE – AND SHOOK AS MY HYPERSPERMIA DELIVERED WHAT FELT LIKE A QUART OF INFECTED AIDS NUTT INTO THAT BOTTOM’S SHREDDED ASS. Oh yeah, in addition to shooting a lot in volume, my orgasm – my real orgasm which have been few and far between – seem to last for fucking ever and by the time my dick stopped spurting and I was able to let go of the flesh clenched in a death grip in my hands, I felt like I would pass out. With my dick still inside his unwilling hole, and streams of ass juice and my cum frothing out around my semi-hard dick, I flopped on top of the twink’s body feeling utterly satisfied for the maybe the first time ever. Dr. Mike was behind me, pressed his body against my naked ass and reached out and laid his right hand on my chest, “Please, if you could just stand back up, we do not want to impede his breathing.” Oh shit! Something about his touch, his body pressed to mine, the feel of his hard dick through his pants … fuck I don’t know – set me off again and I started blowing another load up that bottom’s hole without even another stroke. This one racked me to my bones and every spasm that burned through my body was felt by Dr. Mike who moaned and held me as I POZZED that ripped up ass all over again! When my balls were finally drained, my dick slid out of that beaten hole like a python that had just gorged on a herd of goats and was ready for a long nap. Dr. Mike stepped back, wiped his hands one against the other, smiled and said, “There. Now if you please. Get dressed and I will see you back here next Monday, same time,” and with that he left. (*From the author: If you like the story let me know - post a reply or give a reputation. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read these stories and for the continued support!) (Dr Mike: Biohazard and Healer – all story links here - https://breeding.zone/topic/34692-dr-mike-biohazard-story-links/#comment-384265 )- 43 replies
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Memorial Day was fantastic, but tiring! 😉 I even did something that I’ve never done before, but it was the right time. Thinking about it now I love just how debauched it makes me feel. I had fantasized about it, but never actually did it before. But it seemed the right time to take the plunge off the deep end. 😈 After hitting a few of the usual hotspots and servicing the servicemen who were there, I had made a plan to go into the center of town and drive slowly by the veterans wall memorial late at night (the city essentially has a small version of the Vietnam Vets wall, but it’s for all Vets of all wars that are from our town). Previous drive-bys had confirmed that as the weather warmed up, there are a few homeless vets that hang out around the wall and sleep there, just out of view of the road, under the overpass. I wasn’t sure what ages I’d get - by that time of the evening I had already sampled a wide age range (from vets recently returned from a current tour all the way back to Vietnam). I pulled off the road under the bridge and shut the lights off on my SUV. After my eyes adjusted, I found two homeless vets of the first Gulf War. I had already prepared the back of the SUV with the seats down, along with drinks and a few other things they might want to use. 😉 I beckoned from my window, but they thought I was just mocking them the way so many do as they drive by, so I got out and walked over to them. My heart was beating out of my chest! These men were big and strong and they were not clean at all. I lit a 120 and let it dangle from my lips, and reiterated my offer. When they said, “We aren’t fags!”, I pulled up my white blouse - I had left my bra in the car - so they could see my real tits. That was all they needed. I took a deep drag and did a French inhale, and then turned to walk back to my SUV, telling them to follow me. But ummmm… they had other ideas… Before I knew it, two strong marines had me down on a piece of cardboard under the overpass. I started to try to say something - “let’s go to my car” I think - but before I got the words out, the bigger vet had his strong hands on my neck. I was already in heaven. 😉 These two vets spit roasted me on that dirty cardboard where anyone could see if they wanted to for over an hour! They took turns slamfucking my tight pussy and abusing my throat as they squeezed my neck and pinched and twisted the hard nipples on my fat jiggly tits. I was in pure decadent ecstasy. They both gave me multiple loads in that time, deep in my cunt, blasted down my throat, all over my face and tits. I think these two dirty homeless vets shot 3 loads in my unprotected cunt and 2 down my throat. I’m still wiped out and everything is still a little sore. 😉 I gathered my clothes and got up to leave. They asked my name; I told them It was Diana. They wanted more, so I gave them my full name - it’s only a matter of time before I make it fully legal anyway. As I walked away, one yelled - “Yo, Diana, don’t we owe you or sumthin, whore?” I told them I went out to treat vets for Memorial Day, and if anything I owed THEM. I reached in my purse and immediately grabbed my plug and slipped it in my pussy - now capping off so much raw seed I could feel it inside me as I moved - and then walked back to my SUV. I told them I’ll see them again on Veterans Day, if I can make it that long. 😈💦💦💦 - Di ❤️
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Wanna Be The Next Great Bareback Porn Star!
Brando-Sparks posted a topic in Bareback Porn Discussion
So This Is A Topic I’m Sure Is In The Minds Of A Lot Of Men On Here... “How Do I Become A Bareback Porn Star?” Well I’m sure if I had asked this question 10+ years ago when I was in my late 20’s and had that rockin’ body I would have had a much quicker response from any of the porn studios! Well here I am 40 with much more experience and a lot more bareback porn studios to choose from. I still feel like I have what it takes to hang with the “big boys” (Yes Pun Intended)! So my question still stands how do I jump into the world of bareback porn especially with the huge advancement in digital media and online porn productions? I’m looking for anyone currently working in the industry, anyone with personal knowledge or anyone with suggestions, tips or tricks to propel me into my dream job! Now I have researched this quite a bit but still feel overwhelmed about where to start. One thing I did learn was picking a Porn Name to go by. Your name should have a first and last name, be easy to spell so it rolls off the tongue and makes it easier to come up in search engines. Now I’m Italian being named after my great grandfather Giuseppe Busia. I wanted to stay with my heritage. Now Guys this is nothing to take lightly it took me a few weeks to actually decide on the right name for myself. I did a lot of research into Italian names and their meanings and after a lot of deliberation with friends I had finally picked what I think is perfect for me and my attitude! You are now looking at Brando Sparks ⚡️ Brando means “sword, fiery torch, beacon” I felt this was perfect for myself, my place and conquering the first step in to my porn career. Im looking forward to hearing from all of you and I hope this forum will be able to help anyone else with the cravings to become the next great Bareback Porn Star 💫 Brando Sparks ⚡️ -
I'll explain, how has the porn you watch changed you as a person. Going back to my neg days where I repressed everything in order to try to be a good Christian boy the few porns I would rarely jerk off to was vanilla condom porn. Jump forward to a few years ago as I became a bareback chem fucker, I doubt I would even get hard to that boring shit. I craved more intense porn, treasure Island media, sketchy sex etc to get off on. Porn has to be BB and sleazy, extra points for POZ talk and the more rough the better. I have been liberated to real porn and although it's not real sex it is always good to have playing on in the background to give the poor pig in my place an idea of what will happen to him.
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The oak planks beneath my feet felt solid even though the ship rocked to and fro. The Captain had sent for me, so as I made my way from his cabin under the sterncastle to the forecastle and the front of the ship I had to try to maintain my balance while avoiding my fellow crewmates. Well, OK, maybe I was not a part of the crew yet - at least in their eyes. I was too young, too inexperienced, too pampered and formerly rich to be a pirate. Plus I was the Captain’s boy - his ship wife if you will - although I had not been a boy in age for a few years according to my father. Yet having celebrated my 18th birthday just a few weeks prior to the pirates capturing the ship I was on and slaughtering most of the crew, I still often like a child in my new surroundings. Sea spray matted my hair and once I climbed the forecastle steps, and the Captain dismissed his Quartermaster - he roughly guided the wet wisps of matted blond hair off my face. He then pushed me to my knees, unbuttoned his silk britches and had me take his sugar stick in my mouth. He loved being watched and loved even more shooting his salty seed into my mouth while standing on the forecastle, his arms crossed, pretending he was the ultimate master in his foppish silk, colored clothes. The Captain’s clothing choices always made my eyes hurt as he relished the brightest colors and the shiniest silks. Yet underneath his peacock attire, was a tall, well built man with muscles earned by years at sea and a demeanor that was rough, brutal, and used to taking what he wanted, when he wanted it - including my mouth and arse. Once the Captain had filled my mouth, I swallowed, cringing at the bitter taste. I had learned quickly there was punishment to be had if I spit it out, so hiding my grimace, I took it, and then as he stepped back and buttoned up as I left him on the forecastle. These displays always brought unwanted attention to me and while I made my way back to the sterncastle and the cabin the powder monkeys and others whooped and cawed like a cackle of black birds at my passing. In the cabin I reached for the bottle of rum that was dangling by its neck from a rope in the mid-beam timber. I gulped once - the fire burning my throat - then again and swished it around to remove the foul taste. I had tilted the bottle up for a third swig when a voice said, “You know there are better things to be swallowing.” I turned and sighed as I looked upon the Quartermaster. He was so different than any man I had ever known, or any other man on the ship for that matter. In size, he was a good four or five hands taller than the rest and just as thick and wide. His skin was black as London coal and mottled with the scars of battles past - each worn as a badge of honor and medallion of victory. The Quartermaster, or Sir - I don’t know his true name as when asked he just said Sir - was the real power on the ship. The Captain pranced around and hollered and demanded and the crew would say, “Aye Capt’n”, and then would look to the Quartermaster for the simple nod or shake of his head that would either affirm or change the orders. There were several dark men of the islands on the ship’s crew and when I first expressed my surprise that he held the rank and position he did, Sir just chuckled and said, “It is not unknown for someone like me to serve the black flag. We all wish the same thing do we not?” I had seen my share of the atrocities done to men like him in my few short years and was honestly grateful to the Father Above that Sir had found his place in this world. “I saw you coming back from the bow and your morning feeding,” Sir chuckled. I scowled at his humor, wiped the last swig of rum from my lips, and knew better than to state what I was really thinking. He continued, “I figured you would need something warm, sweet, and filling to settle your stomach, so I held my morning water and instead of sloshing down the quarter gallery figured I would let it slosh around in your mouth.” Sir quickly loosened his canvas britches and let them drop to the floor as he steadied himself with his left hand against the timber frame. The ship rocked and I stumbled as I made my way over to him, but got on my knees and held firm against his thighs as the first hot droplets of nectar kissed my lips. I quickly open my mouth and began to gulp the hot waters he fed me. His dick head was large, dark, and ripe like the giant plums I used to snitch from our neighbor’s garden when I was a child. First thing in the morning he tasted just as wonderful. Not sweet - not bitter - but like wild venison dipped in fig sauce coated with the frothy green foam that seeped from it’s eye like from the churning of small waves against the hull. Sir was my Neptune - my king of the sea. I think Sir had been holding his water all night as he really filled me up. Once I was sure he was done, I stood up, licked my lips, and gave him a smile, as I knew what would come next. I made my way to the Captain’s desk and shoved a pile of maps and papers to the side. Sir walked up behind me and slid his calloused hands under my canvas shirt, up my sides, and then grabbed my chest hard. “TELL ME YOU WANT MY PEGO. TELL ME YOU WANT ME TO FUCK YOU. TELL ME YOU WANT ME TO CUM IN YOUR ARSE, TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT MY POX!” Sir demanded. I had never heard such words and talk until I was taken by the pirates and even then I had to figure out what some things meant like ‘pego’, which was his tackle or manhood. Oh I had heard my father and others refer to their manhood but never imagined I would welcome another man bloody buggering me with his like I did Sir or that I would enjoy risking my eternal life as a bloody Sodomite. While I enjoyed taking him, feeling him push in, pull out, and then grant me his seed, I was also grateful. He saved me - quite literally on that first day. As Sir took me from behind, rough and deep, those memories came back. Our attempt to evade the dark ship that stalked over the horizon; the fighting and screams and blood; the death and pillaging. A group of the pirate crew had me cornered in my cabin and were arguing over whether to gut me, ransom me, or use me like a wench - or all three - when the Quartermaster showed up. He looked me up and down, barely acknowledging my nakedness, then barked to his crew that I was to be protected and kept safe as the Captain was in need of a cabin boy to replace the last one who had died of fever, so I would have to do. As one of the three top men on the ship, by rights, Sir could use me just as the Captain and the Bos’n did. The Captain and Bos’n wasted no time and spent my first night as pirate booty rutting on me like brutal wild animals. The Bos’n especially liked rutting me like a wild boar. He was a filthy beast and just as hairy and smelly as any boar I had seen but his tusk - well I have to admit his big tusk felt awful good banging my arse open and I knew I pleased him as he grunted loudly whenever he wet my insides. Yet, while I enjoyed his man tar coating my insides, it was the tar that often coated his hands that was the worst. The filthy man never washed and while my skin and flesh toughened up from the beatings his tar-covered hands and sticks gave me, the taste of his fingers being jammed in my mouth to suck on as he rutted always left my insides heaving like the worst storm. Tar belongs on the timbers and oaks, not in my mouth! “MY POX IS DRIPPING FROM YOUR CUNNY - MAKING IT ALL HARD FOR YOU! TELL ME YOU WANT ME IN YOUR CUNNY! TELL ME YOU WANT MY POX!” Sir said, breaking my memories and focusing me back on the moment. The heat and pain he caused when he entered me were either the coal fires of Hell burning my soul or the Fire Sword of the Angel Gabriel protecting me. His manhood was massive, but the burning it caused was nothing compared to the wonder he stirred and the feelings of pleasure he gave me when he let me serve him like this. From the moment he saved me, Sir showed me kindness and mercies. Small things really I guess, but in this world, they were huge. A kind word, an extra crust of bread, a firm but gentle touch on the shoulder, a new canvas shirt when the bloodied, torn, and ruined shirt I had when captured became nothing more than nesting fodder for the ship’s mice and rats. Between satisfying the desires of the Captain, the Bos’n, and trying to learn my duties so I didn’t get slapped, kicked, or beat for disobedience, I had little time to wonder about the quiet, scary looking Quartermaster. That is until one morning a few weeks in after the Captain had buggered me and left me in his cabin, naked, afraid, and confused. Sir had come in to look at the charts but paused when he saw me on the floor huddled against the desk. I stood up, afraid I would get beat if I did not offer, so I bent over the desk and waited. Sir’s breathing got labored; the oak creaked with each step as he stepped closer. Gently he ran a finger down the ridges on my back left by the Bos’n. I was shaking and expected him to just take me. The air crackled like a storm was approaching and the hairs on my arms raised, my flesh dimpled; yet Sir held back and just said, “I’ll come back shortly. Take what time you need. I believe the Captain will be wanting his spyglass.” That evening, when taking the Captain’s dinner tray back to the galley to the cook, I paused just long enough to accept an apple from a small linen bag he had sitting on the counter. His toothless grin when he handed it to me was all the explanation he could give having no tongue with which to speak. I nodded and smiled in appreciation and tucked it under my shirt. The Captain was fast asleep by now and the watch was late, so I stayed in the shadows to avoid the few men that were up as I made my way to the Quartermaster's cabin. I tapped the stout wooden door with my finger, not wanting to make noise knowing how it could carry in the ship. I tapped again, the door latch creaked, the door cracked open, and the Quartermaster held out the metal lamp to see who had need of him. The lamp swayed back and forth as its faint light, cast by the stub of a single candle, let him see enough to know it was I. He opened the door, I stepped in, the door closed, latched, and I shivered with a chill like from a cold winter’s morning. “Are you OK? Is the Captain OK? What’s happened?” The Quartermaster said with a tinge of anxiousness in his voice. “Quart...Quartermaster, Sir, I….” He gently laid his hand on my quaking shoulder, “Just Sir. Just call me Sir. It’s OK boy, begin again.” I really didn’t know what to say so I just reached into my shirt, pulled out the small apple and held it up for him to see. A gift. A token. A thanks. Sir smiled, stepped to the back of his cabin, hung his lamp on the small hook by his bunk, and sat on the edge. It was then I realized he was completely naked. The small flames and the light of the moon reflected off the calm seas cast dancing shadows over his night skin and I was mesmerized. He casually shifted his long, thick manhood off his left thigh and patted his bunk, “Come. Sit with me and share this bounty. Did Cook give this to you? You did not steal it did you? You must know that taking things - stealing - is a severe punishment.” I thought that was a funny sort of thing for a pirate to say, but I had also seen they had some weird rules - known and unknown - so I held my tongue and just nodded. Sir pulled a knife that was jammed into the side timbers out, held up the apple, and cut a thick slice off and handed it to me. The juice dripped across his thigh and onto my hand and I laughed in delight as I figured the apple would have been dry and nothing more than a husk. I eagerly chewed it and swallowed and Sir did the same. He shared another piece with me, then a couple more. With the apple’s flesh consumed and nothing left but the seeds and toughest bit of the core, Sir jammed the knife back into the timber, looked at me, then reached out and with a tenderness I had not known from even my own father, gently wiped the smalls bits and juice from the corners of my mouth and lip. His face was mostly shadows as he licked his fingers clean. I don’t know what possessed me, but I reached out and firmly grasped his stiff manhood and gasped in wonder at its size and warmth and his aching need. He squeezed my wrist painfully, “DON’T,” he hissed. With all my strength I slid my hand up, then down, feeling the slickness of his manhood, the roughness of the skin rash and chancres, the wetness of the pustules as they seeped open onto my hand. Was that why he had never wanted me? I let him shift my hand away from his body and smiled as I held my coated hand to my face and inhaled. The smell clung to my nostrils, filled my throat, made my chest clench, and only increased my hunger. I stood up and Sir watched me in confusion as I pulled my canvas shirt and britches off. My eyes locked with his as I kneeled before him, grasped his pox timber with both hands, and guided it to my mouth. BY THE SAINTS HE TASTED WONDERFUL! Sir’s manhood pulsed and twitched with every flick of my tongue, depositing a stew of sweat, pox juice, man dripping, and more. I moaned as I suckled on the tip, drinking him up, pleasuring him with a small kindness. Sir’s head was back, his mouth open, his hand’s gripping the side of the bunk as I stroked his shaft, mouthed the tip, and cupped his balls. I had to feel him inside me, but I knew he was too big. I would not be able to take him like I did the Captain and Bos’n. I stopped my work, stood up, climbed onto the bunk and wedged myself between the bulkhead wall and Sir’s back. He twisted, looked at me, then turned his body and lay on the bunk beside me - his face to mine - his shaft pressing in need against my body. Sir’s face was all dark shadows now, so I gently ran the fingers of my left hand over his head, down his jaw line, across the crooked bridge of his nose, to his mouth. When I withdrew my fingers from his lips he slid his right arm over my back, pulled me tightly towards him and began kissing me with burning intensity. The Captain and Bos’n had never kissed me. No man had. They had only used my mouth in other ways. This - this was so different, so… Back in the present, Sir had withdrawn his shaft from my backside and was using the long nails on his right hand to scratch and claw at me like a mountain lion gutting a lamb, “YOU WANT ME TO STOP?” Sir asked, knowing full well I would never ask that. “I WANT TO SEE THAT CUNNY SWOLLEN - RED - OVERFLOWING WITH MY POX. I WANT THAT CUNNY RIPE FOR MY SEED - SWELLING AS I FILL YOU UP!” Sir slammed back into my now even bloodier arse. That first night, after he had kissed me and explored every inch of my body with his hands, our sweaty bodies entangled, was the first time I had felt safe. Nothing else mattered. All the pain, fear, unknown of the past weeks was swept away with the tides. I had an anchor now. An anchor that would hold me steady through whatever storm may blow. “Please, please go inside me,” I asked Sir. He stroked the side of my head, “You don’t know what you are asking. I can’t. I musn’t.” I guided his hand from my head down between my legs so he could feel how wet and moist my body was. I let go, flipped over so my back was now to him, and lifted my right leg up and back exposing my hole. Sir sucked in a lung full of breath like the hiss of an adder snake about to strike. I nestled my head in the crook of his left arm, scooted my body back a little so I was firmly pressed against him. His choice now was to either enter me or let me push him off the bunk. OK, well maybe I could not have pushed him off because he is a lot bigger than me, but still, in that moment, I didn’t know how else to ask him to give me what I needed. “FUCK ME SIR!” I begged as I pushed my ass back onto his swollen rod, using the rocking motion of the ship to harpoon me like a fish. Sir obliged, fucking me with a roughness I would come to love and need. While over the course of the past months he had fucked me in just about every place imaginable on the ship, his favorite was still having me bent over the Captain’s desk. The stains of red, pox, and arse left on the oak floors was one more reminder for the Captain of who was really in charge. I arched my back as Sir grabbed my right leg and hefted it higher. He began stabbing at my puckered flesh with his fingers; his nails scraping my skin away like the barnacles that clung to the ship’s hull. This was a pain I wanted. This was a pain I had to have. His fingers found their mark and my body stiffened and I cried out. Sir cupped his left hand over my mouth to silence me and while the beating of my heart pounded in my ears as the waves pounded the planks of the bulkhead, Sir continued to create the wetness he needed. I could tell from the tenseness of his body he was going to take me. All doubt was erased when, with two fingers firmly buried in me like gill hooks and he whispered, “TELL ME YOU WANT THIS - TELL ME YOU WANT MY POX. I HAVE TRIED TO BE KIND AND GENTLE WITH YOU. WHY OR WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DO THIS? WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DESIRE THIS?” I moaned in pleasure as Sir’s fingers dug at the nub in my arse, making it swell and oil up. I could feel his fingers getting slicker. “I WANT IT,” I said with all the effort I could muster. “TAKE ME MY LORD. I AM YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT SIR. AT YOUR GRACE AND MERCY MY MASTER GIVE ME YOUR SEED.” I yelped as Sir clamped his hand back over my mouth and forced his pox meat into my arse. The slickness let him slide in a bit, but then he caught up like a wayward ship running a-shoal. Before my body and mind could process the intense burning and pain he had inflicted, in one motion he pulled me closer, rolled his body onto mine, pressed my head firmly into the molded straw of the bunk’s padding and boarded me as he buried himself deep inside me. Lighting flashed bright and white behind my closed eyes as Sir pushed into me deeper and deeper. My body instinctively tensed and tried to push out the invader to no avail. All at once my resistance gave way and the deluge of his pox manhood began. Wave after wave of pox seed crashed and churned inside me. Sir pumped and pumped to expel it all and I took it. At the time it felt like he had spent an entire night’s watch filling me up, but I know that cannot be. “TAKE MY POX - THAT’S IT - OPEN THAT CUNNY UP - TAKE IT ALL - HARLOT CUNNY FOR ME!” Sir exclaimed as he filled me with his morning blessing. Far too soon his shrinking manhood slid from inside me. I quickly knelt and lapped up the sticky, pox remnants left on his mast and once I was done, I stood up, hefted my canvas britches up, looked at Sir, and knowingly asked, “SEE YOU TONIGHT?” (*From the author: If you like the story let me know - post a reply or give a reputation. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read these stories and for the continued support!)
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Chasing the Bug 2.0 – My Cuckold Boyfriend and Caribbean Salvation Part 1 - Bahamian Fuck in the Boathouse and Part 2 – Raw AIDs Dick in St Thomas Let me start by telling you about Richard, my ex-partner (he liked ‘husband’ because he was the top, but whatever), who is white, in his early 40’s, handsome, Ivy League educated, and works for one of the most prestigious lobbyomg firms in Washington, DC. So, basically he was a tight ass, but I loved him, or did once, guess in the later years it became ‘care for with a dash of tolerance and two dashes of get the fuck off me.’ I met Richard on a phone chat line about 12 years ago. I was still working through my attraction to men, and at the time, Richard was my dream. He was successful, powerful, handsome, and on our first date he showed me his rare and priceless antique maps. I know, sounds corny, but I saw passion in his eyes and heard it in his voice when he spoke about those fucking maps – and after several dates and a few fucks after spending the evening in the hot tub – he looked at me with the same passion and spoke with the same intensity to me, and about me, so I was hooked. When we met, Richard and I were on pretty much the same page sexually. He was a good 10 years older than me, but we were very compatible. However, over the years I started to get bored. Sex with Richard was like a Georgetown housewife’s scripted recipe – kiss for 5 minutes, very little tongue, suck him for about 2 minutes (with condom on) while he rubbed my head, then me laying face down while he put on a new condom and fucked me for about 2 more minutes. Over and over and over this was our sex life and frankly I was bored as fuck. I tried suggesting ways to spice things up, but Richard would have none of it, until he came upon what he said was the perfect solution – he would watch me get fucked by some other guy while he watched because he enjoyed being a ‘cuckold’ husband. Basically a cuckold is someone who’s wife is unfaithful and they have no power and are forced to submit, watch, are powerless, or whatever. I guess being a high-powered lobbyist all day he wanted someone else in control, so I agreed, and about once a month he would set us up with a top who would come to our house, fuck me, and Richard would sit in the fucking Queen Anne winged back chair in the bedroom jacking his dick. One would think this would be interesting or even fun – NOT! Every single guy Richard set us up with was like him – about the same age, white, dick not too big or not too small (Richard was about 8 inches, average thickness), missionary fuck, and they always wore a condom. Richard and I got tested for HIV and everything else a few times a year and no matter how much I made the argument that I wanted to try having him inside me raw or at least suck him without a condom, it was always, “No, that is too dangerous.” So I was left with two conclusions – either he was a total fucking sleaze ball fucking tons of ass on the side or, since was such a tight ass, the more likely option was he was an uptight asshole who would always keep those barriers between us. So much for intimacy. No matter how much I wanted to make him understand, I could never tell him that feeling his raw cock slide into me and taking his cum was, for me, the ultimate intimacy I could imagine!!! I loved him, and his refusal was a rejection of that love – and of me – and so, overtime, I fantasized more and more about being fucked raw. Not just raw, I wanted us to be linked and so there was no excuse, every time we got tested I prayed and wished that by some miracle we both were POZ. If we were, we would not need a condom, we could be together, I could feel him deep in me breeding me with his cum. About two years ago I was laid off from my job with a business management firm. The recession had hit us hard, government spending was done and in DC that is the milk that flows from the Mother tit, so I became a true ‘housewife’, spending my days making it a happy home for Richard. Yet, no matter what I did, Richard’s idea of sex never changed, and so, I found other outlets. I first came across Machofucker.com about a month after I was laid off. Holy fuck! I had never seen anything like that. Richard thought porn was ‘dirty’ – meaning low class – so we did not own any. I was hooked. Not only did these guys fuck with abandon and enjoyment, and loudly – they fucked raw and you could see their cum!!! Oh my God I could not believe it. Thankfully they had free previews, which I downloaded to a DVD that I hid in the basement under a box of old paint cans, so I could dig it out and watch it when Richard was not home and he would be none the wiser. Well, one day I forgot to remove the DVD from the computer after I had jacked off about four times and uploaded their newest free preview. When Richard came home and logged on to watch BBC News online, the DVD spun up and on the screen came this big black dick fucking a white ass raw, and rough. Richard was aghast, said he was disgusted and wanted to puke, I tried to apologize but my dick was hard and tenting my pants, so he was even more ‘disappointed’ and said he did not know who I was anymore. I asked him again – no I begged – can we please just try something like that? Richard swore, which was extreme for him, got into his Mercedes, and left the house. I hid my DVD, Richard came home later like nothing had happened, and so every day I fantasized more and more about how to get out of this sex hell hole I was in. I became more and more depressed – no job, no sex that I liked, Richard not caring about my needs, I just wanted out, and began trolling websites more and more. As I explored my bareback/raw fucking fantasies I came across a couple blogs of guys who were POZ and who talked about not only fucking raw, but of chasing the bug, stealth pozzing other guys, sharing their virus and more. I could not believe it. I was sort of disgusted at first, but the more I read, the more I realized how free, how connected, how much these guys were living life how they wanted when I was doing the exact opposite. I now knew what I wanted – I wanted a man to POZ me – I wanted to chase the bug – and get it – then I would be free. I became obsessed and so wanted to try some of the things I read about like going to a bookstore, or bathhouse, but I was afraid. Afraid of Richard finding out, afraid of what would happen if I did catch the bug, afraid of seeing someone I recognized or knew, and more. Richard knew I was not happy, so he actually surprised me one day by coming home with a big envelope, which when I opened it, had two airline tickets to Orlando and an itinerary for a 7-day cruise to the Caribbean out of Port Canaveral. I had never been on a cruise, frankly Richard never took vacations so the best I got was a weekend in Atlantic City once every two years, which would end up a disaster as Richard always lost all his money and he would be depressed for days afterwards. I was excited, at least I would get out of the fucking house and who knows, may have fun, even with Richard. More importantly, I saw this as my chance – my chance to explore what I needed – my need to get POZZED – my need to be converted – my need to chase the bug. Somehow thinking about doing this away from DC made it easier, and made it more OK. As the weeks flew by before the cruise, I visited a number of chat sites where people talked about bareback sex. I was too nervous to really speak to anyone, but did exchange emails with a few guys, including one guy on St. Thomas, one of the Caribbean islands where our cruise ship would stop. This guy’s name was James, he was about Richard’s age, had grown up in Miami, but his family was from St. Thomas and after he finished college he had gone back to St. Thomas, began a few businesses, and seemed like a nice guy. He was very friendly, our chats were never sexually explicit, and I never felt like I was cheating on Richard. He told me to keep in touch and that if it looked like I might have time, to email him from the ship and he would give me an address of this little bar he owned where we could meet up when in St. Thomas. I assumed he was into bareback sex from the site he was on – bareback.com – and he was a top, black, well hung, drank, smoked, and all the other things Richard was not. I jerked off so many times fantasizing about ‘James’ – even though I had not even seen a face picture – just only knew him from his short profile and our emails. It was finally time to go on the cruise and I could not wait. I was so tired of Richard and his controlling ways, I just wanted to relax and get out of the house. I was also tired of feeling worthless. I still had not been able to find a job and hated feeling indebted to him. What sort of partner was I? We caught our flight to Orlando, spent a day at Sea World, took a car to Port Canaveral/Cocoa Beach, spent a day there, and then boarded the cruise ship on a Sunday morning. The ship was huge – over three football fields long, and was a wonder. There were pools, restaurants, shopping, live shows, and more. A few guys flirted with me, including our stateroom attendant, but Richard was always by my side, so what little action I had was a quick jack off when I excused myself from the dinner table. Richard got seasick, so we had no sex at all, which I did not miss frankly. Having him on top of me was becoming something I dreaded – and hated. Tuesday morning, the ship anchored just offshore of a small island in the Bahamas. The island was owned by the cruise line but was packed with little shops, nice beaches, and lots of activities. One of those activities was parasailing. I had never been parasailing and begged and begged and begged Richard to go with me. Of course I imagined it would be like America’s Funniest Home Videos where you see someone being dragged down the beach and hitting the water face first while their swim trunks come off – but we could see them as the small boats took us from the ship to shore. They were launching off the back of small motorboats and it looked like so much fun! Once we landed on the island I ‘wandered’ over to where the map said the parasailing booth was. Richard followed, relented, and soon we were in a boat with six other cruisers. As we sped off and got settled I looked closer at the guys running the boat. There were three of them, all handsome, black, and I could not keep my eyes off one guy in particular who was sitting on the edge of the back of the boat with his legs spread and a huge bulge in his pants. He had on an orange t-shirt, khaki shorts, white sneakers, and reflective sunglasses, so I could not see where he was looking, but his dick was due south, moist, and formed a tasty looking outline. Richard noticed my focused gaze and said, “So what? You into black men now is that it? Jesus Christ, I bring you on an amazing vacation and all you can do is ogle the local working class?” I told Richard to lower his voice and said, “Yes, actually, I was looking, and thinking of you actually. Knowing how much you enjoy being a cuckold for another, who better to be powerless against than a big black man in a foreign country? What could you do? Nothing! You would be helpless, he is like nothing we have ever seen, right?” Richard’s mouth worked silently, almost like he was chewing on his words – or cow with cud – before he spoke. “Yes, true, I don’t know, but he is black!” “Yes Richard,” I said trying not to let my exasperation show, “But we are not home, no one will ever know will they. Just think, this is a chance of a life time and no one will ever know.” Richard did not say anything more, so I returned to watching the three guys running the boat hook people up, ease out the parasailing lines, and waited our turn. When it was our turn the guy I had been watching helped me first into my harness. I swear he rubbed my ass and poked his finger towards my hole when he did, and I actually moaned a little, or it was just wishful thinking and the hot sun. Richard did not notice but I hoped the guy did. Parasailing was amazing!!! We lifted off the boat in one smooth motion and lifted to about 400 feet. Wow!! Too soon our time aloft ended, we watched the rest of the cruisers do their turn and we headed back to shore. Once we docked, we got off the boat and Richard said he forgot to tip the guys, so I walked up to the shed where we had signed up. I was not paying attention, but a few minutes later Richard tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Come on,” and I turned to follow. When I did I noticed the guy from the boat that I had been watching. He was in front of us and Richard was following him. What was going on? We walked along the edge of the island to a large boathouse about 100 feet away. It was dark, and about 110 degrees inside. The guy closed the door behind us and led us towards the back where he and Richard stopped near a pile of parasails that were stacked like hay bails. “Man, what’s up?” the parasail guy asked. Richard said, “Like I told you, I have money, I want you to have sex with my husband here and I want to watch.” The guy laughed, “Yeah you said that, OK, $500.” I stood there in amazement thinking there was no way this was happening. Richard would never! Richard pulled out his wallet, counted out $500, handed it to the guy, and then pushed me towards him. I was still a bit dazed figuring out what was going on, but the Bahamian guy was not. He took the money, tucked it in his pocket, pulled his shorts down and off over his sneakers, and started undoing my shorts. Fuck yeah! I went with it, dropped my backpack, took my baseball cap off, and knelt in front of him to suck on his dick. His dick was over 9 inches, milk chocolate black, and hairy like crazy. Huge growth of hair from his balls, down his dick shaft, so unlike what I was used to as Richard kept himself clipped. I sucked his dick down anyways, which tasted of sweat and funk. Amazing! I sucked him for a while, he then helped me stand up, scooted me over to the pile of folded up parasails, and bent me over and spit on his dick and rubbed the spit up and down his hairy shaft with his hand. “Umm, excuse me, please, excuse me,” I heard Richard say, ”Um yes, stop right there please, um, do you have condoms?” The Bahamian guy laughed a little, said “Oh yes, of course,” he said, “My bag is up there by the front door, to the left on the bench, Nike bag, do you mind grabbing them for us?” Richard nodded and turned and walked away. The Bahamian guy bent over me and whispered, “Do YOU want me to wear a condom? I don’t like them.” “Um, I, shit – no, I don’t, I want you to just fuck me,” I said. This was my chance and Richard be damned. The Bahamian guy laughed, spit on his dick a few times, bent me back over, and worked his dick slowly into my hole. The sweat running down my back, mixed with his spit, made my hole nice and moist. I was being fucked RAW!!! It hurt like hell as he fucked me and I went forward into the parasails, but it felt unbelievable. This was how sex was supposed to be, skin to skin and raw. I heard Richard exclaim, “Stop that!” as his voice pitched high like a woman. The Bahamian guy laughed again and said, “Shut up man – he wants it – don’t you? Don’t you?” I whimpered and said, “Yes,” in barely a whisper, but that was all he needed to hear. He fucked me raw, rough, and hard and in the midst of my ecstasy I could hear Richard off to the side whimpering as well – but it was the whimper of a cuckold who had met his match and was in over his head. My ass was hurting so bad, but I found that jacking my dick helped ease the pain. I had never had to do that with Richard, so my body was flooded with new and exciting sensations and my mind was screaming FUCK ME RAW – FUCK ME RAW – POZ ME POZ ME. I did not know if he had HIV or AIDs, but I was hoping and what guys fuck raw when they don’t? I was soon rewarded with a hot thick load of Bahamian cum. The guy grabbed my shoulders, tensed, and slammed me deeper as he shot. I thought I could feel it, but had never had that sensation before so was not sure, but his yelling, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” convinced me. When he was done he pulled out of my ass, pulled on his shorts and left the boat shed sort of chuckling. Richard was sitting on a crate looking dazed. I pulled up my shorts and said, “Come on, let’s go,” and we walked out. Richard was quiet, too quiet, and after an hour at the beach and a light lunch he said, “I want to go back to the ship.” I asked to stop in the bathroom first and when I did I let out the Bahamian cum into the cup of my hand. I could not believe I had another man’s cum – tinged with my blood – in my hand. It was thick, white with red, and before I knew it I tipped my hand and slurped the load and juices like the finest raw oyster. It was like nectar from the gods. Back on the ship Richard did not say two words to me. He sulked, pouted, and acted like a fucking child. Even at the formal dinner he just focused on his food and not me. Fine, whatever. As we got ready for bed, Richard finally asked, “How could you? How could you let him?” “How could I let him what?” I asked. “Have sex with you like that? That is just just just WRONG. It was not right – it was dirty and wrong and I did not want him to do that!” Richard said sounding like a hysterical woman again. “Well,” I said, and feeling a little courageous thanks to all the wine from dinner, “That was called fucking! That’s what men do! Real men – not cuckold pussies like you so you would know nothing about it. Good NIGHT!” With that I grabbed a blanket and lay on the floor and went to sleep. PART 2 – RAW POZ DICK IN ST THOMAS “That was disgusting!” Richard’s words kept echoing in my mind over and over after he had watched me get fucked raw by the guy in the Bahamas. Not for me it wasn’t. Being barebacked in that boathouse was the hottest sex I had ever had and then tasting the cum that came out of my ass – damn! Made me hard every time I thought about it. The next day was a day-at-sea as we traveled to St. Thomas. I was so angry with Richard, I went to the internet café on the 8th deck, signed onto bareback.com, and emailed James to tell him I wanted to come see him in St Thomas. James was online as he replied instantly and asked me what I wanted in St. Thomas and I typed, “Right now, more than anything, I want to be taken away, away from Richard and from this whole fucked up life.” I then told him what happened in the Bahamas and since he was on a bareback site asked what he thought. James replied, “You were blessed to have a man share himself with you in that way. Very blessed. Did you enjoy it? Did you want it? Do you want it again? Was that your first time taking it raw? You POZ?” When I answered yes to all of the above, and negative, James said, “That is all I need to know. Here is the address to my place. I think you NEED to come see me. When you leave the ship, go see the SkyRide tram. When you are done, there is a place to catch the taxi’s right there, ask for Andre, he knows me, he will take care of you, and you cannot miss him, he always wears a t-shirt with his name on it ‘Andre’s Taxi.’ I’ll tell him to expect you about 10:00.” The rest of the day I kept repeating James’ email over and over in my head and did my best to avoid Richard. By dinner, he felt like talking and apologizing, but for me it was too little too late. I read up on the excursions available in St. Thomas for tomorrow, left a list on the bed for Richard, and went to sleep on the floor again. The next day we docked in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands, early and by 9:00 a.m. the gangway was down and everyone was disembarking the ship to see the sights. The first item on our list was the little SkyRide tram that went up to the top of the hill and was within walking distance from the ship. Richard and I still were not speaking much, but the SkyRide was pretty cool and the view was amazing. When we came down I walked into the parking lot near the ticket booth where there were several rundown taxi-buses, all of the open side variety seen in the Caribbean. I approached a driver who was about 30, had long dreadlocks, a green t-shirt, bare feet, jeans, beard, and a nice smile. “Andre? Yes, I could tell from your shirt, I…Um…Do you know where this place is?” I asked. Richard was still looking at postcards by the ticket counter. The driver smiled at me, nodded at Richard, “So, you goin here for him?” he asked. “No,” I said, “For me – I hope.” Andre laughed a hearty laugh and said, “Oh yes, yes, for you, very good, very good, Jimmy’s will love you and you will love Jimmy’s and James told me I may have a special pick up this morning, so I see, hmmm. I can get you there – 171 Altona is not far and good price – say $20?” I agreed and when Richard joined us and I told him we were going to go to a local place to grab a drink. He looked at me in his typical condescending manner, preparing to lecture me that it was pretty early to start drinking, but I was in no mood to hear him this morning, and walked away, following Andre. Richard could stay or go. I didn’t care. We hopped in Andre’s taxi-bus, and with the opened sides, you had to hang on so you did not feel like you would fall out. They drive on the left ‘wrong side’ of the street in St. Thomas, which I found very disconcerting. Richard did not say a word until we pulled up in front of 171 Altona, a long row of two and three story tan, plastered buildings that looked like warehouses. You could see a set of wooden stairs, covered mostly with vines, clinging to the backside leading up to the second floor with a couple doors for what looked like offices or apartments. The driver pulled around the block and turned into the parking lot in front. There were several trucks backed up to loading docks on one side, a couple guys unloading crates, and two old, beat up cars. Andre parked and pointed to a door in the corner that had JIMMYS painted in gold letters on it. “Here ya are now, enjoy and I am sure I will see you again. Here is my card – call me when you need a ride,” and then the taxi left. Richard was full of questions, “What is this place? What are we doing here?” I told him I had read about it online, everyone said Jimmys was the place to go to get local flavor and to find the best Cruzan Rum drinks. We stepped through the door, walked down a hallway that had doors leading into what looked like storage rooms or loading docks, and then stepped into a fairly large room that had several tables of various sizes and shapes, thick smoke (pot, cigarettes, and more), a small bar over in the corner, and two big guys sitting on each side of the door in tiny little gray folding chairs that sagged under their weight. They both stood up as we entered and barred our way. After my eyes adjusted I could see almost all the tables had one or more people at them even though it was not even 10:30 a.m., and as I looked at them, they looked at me. I saw a few smiles, a few blank stares, but nothing hateful. The place smelled of beer, liquor, and piss and sweat, and the ceiling fans did nothing to dissipate the heat or the smoke as they lazily spun. Richard grabbed my arm, but I pulled away, stepped to the big guy on the left of the door and said, “Hi, umm… is James here?” He was well over 6”5, 250 for sure, and just looked down at me and did not say a word. I said again, “Is James here? He is um…. I told him I would…” Just then a gentleman’s voice rose from a doorway behind the bar, “Boys, boys, let my friends in heh? What sort of host can I be if you stop everyone like a rat trying to steel cheese. Heh? Come now, come, hello, I am James and welcome to Jimmys.” James’ picture online had just shown his chest – broad, firm, dark, with a nice matt of curly hair. He was a nice looking man I thought, not classically handsome I guess, but handsome to me. So masculine, dreads to his shoulders that were colored a dark tan and pulled back behind his head, a couple earrings in both ears, broad straight nose, a killer smile, a chin beard, and when he shook my hand my knees buckled and I felt week. He was taller than me, average build, and with his shirt unbuttoned the first few buttons so I could see some chest hair and wanted to just lick it! He had on shorts, was barefoot, and had huge feet! I immediately noticed the second toe was longer than the big toe – he had fucking big dawg feet! “Welcome welcome. Now I see you made it from that wonderful ship, so please, sit, enjoy yourself, what can we get you?” Richard looked at me and asked, “Do you know this man?” I just ignored him, followed James to a table near the back, dropped my backpack, and took a seat. Low level conversation began again and as I looked around I noticed everyone was male, most were in their 30’s to 40’s I guess, with a couple guys who looked like early 20s or late teens. James came back to the table with three large glasses filled with what he said were the best Cruzan Rum drinks on the island. I took a big sip – HOLY SHIT! That was strong. Richard took a small sip and gasped. I laughed out loud, took a big sip, and felt the rum warm me up, relax me, and make me smile. James laughed and said, “Good yeah?” James sat down beside me on one side of the rectangular table, dropped a pack of cigarettes down, pulled out a lighter, lit up and took several big drags blowing the smoke towards Richard. Richard glared, but James ignored him and began to chat with us asking about where we were from, what brought us to St. Thomas, how we met, and more. I was afraid he would say something about us emailing online, but he didn’t, and just kept flashing that amazing smile and I loved his laugh. So friendly, warm, natural, and so unlike Richard who sounded like he was auditioning for a commercial. I sucked the first drink down pretty quickly and my head started to spin. James cautioned, “Easy man now, take it slow, these are not something for the weak of heart. Take your time. You are in no rush, no?” He offered to bring us some food and disappeared into the back. He returned with some cold sandwiches of some kind of meat on white bread and chips. “We do not cook here, too hot, but we have a few sandwiches and little things.” James also brought another round of drinks. I started to ask James questions about him and his place as Richard pushed his chair back against the wall, sulked, and drank his rum. James told me how he started Jimmy’s several years earlier. It was a way to use the back part of his warehouses, and to give him and his friends and their friends a quiet place to hang out and relax and have fun where no one cared, or would mind, especially their wives. “Your what?” I asked. “Our wives,” James said and chuckled, “In St. Thomas we are all married, (and in a lower voice continued) but do not worry, that does not stop me for fucking a nice ass as much as I can.” James put his hand on my leg and squeezed, I looked at Richard who was lost in space and paying no attention. We continued to chat like that, with James’ hand resting on my thigh – not moving or pressing, just resting there and my dick got hard and I was starting to sweat from the heat, rum, and desire. Richard got up, stumbled a little down the hall once he asked where the bathroom was, so James and I were left alone at the table. James squeezed my thigh, leaned in towards me and said in a low, seductive voice, “I think you need a good fuck – a real man fuck – a fuck from a true breeder. I think you have been focused on nothing but wanting to feel my dick in your negative ass nice and raw since you walked in here with him.” I just sat there staring into James’ face, his eyes were so intense, yet warm, his smile was the hottest smile I had ever seen, and fuck yeah, he was handsome. We both turned as Richard stepped out of the bathroom and began walking back down the hall towards us, as James finished by saying, “And I think I am going to breed and seed that ass deep with my Caribbean AIDS cum.” I was blushing hard as Richard sat back down and my dick was really straining in my shorts now. I lifted my rum drink and took several big gulps to try to get my focus off what James had just told me. James stood up, picked up his cigarettes, lit a fresh one, then turned to me and said, “I would like you to see my place, come with me, and we will let your friend here finish his rum.” Richard just looked up while he sipped his drink and then turned his head away as I followed James down the hall. I saw a couple bathrooms with no doors on them, a couple rooms with closed doors, one room where the door was open that looked like a storeroom and I could see a young guy bent over some boxes as one of the older guys was fucking him. I stopped, stared, and James said, “Jimmy’s is a place to have fun, like I said, as long as they do not break my bottles, or fight, and the boys stop any of that, I encourage them to have fun and be freaks if they want. Unlike the mainland, there are not many places in St. Thomas where guys like me can have fun without worrying about the cops or family or someone bothering us. Like me, almost every one of the guys here has AIDS – and more – and those that don’t, like YOU, soon will.” I followed Jimmy through one of the warehouses as he explained what some of his other business was, through a small courtyard, and then up the wooden stairs we had seen earlier that ran to the walkway that extended down the backside of most of the second floor of the building. He opened the first door he came too and there was a desk, a wooden chair, a big fan, and a curtain of old tattered cloth that led into a small room with a bed. Jimmy turned around, grabbed me by shoulders and kissed me hard. I was shocked, surprised, and totally gave in as his tongue forced its way into my mouth. I slumped against him as he pulled me to his chest and kept kissing me. My knees really were week now as James’ hands ran up and down my back and his hot breath and spit filled my mouth. “What do you want?” James asked. “Uhh, I, Uhh, I should get back to Richard, ha, I ha, oh please.” I mumbled. “Please what? Please stop? No, I don’t think so. You came looking for me. You came to St. Thomas thinking about me didn’t you? Yes, I can see it in your eyes and I can see you need what I can give you. Now taste what you have been waiting for.” James then sat on the edge of the creaking old bed, slid his shorts down and laid back. His dick sprang up – a good 10, 10 1/2 inches, thick, uncut with a long hood of foreskin, dark and juicy. I could only stare, as he was definitely bigger than the guy in the Bahamas. Beyond my furtive visits to websites, and the quick suck of the parasailing guy, I had not seen a black dick like this before. I knelt on the rough floorboards, leaned against the creaking bed, and slowly put my hand around James’ dick. He moaned, put his hands behind his head and asked with a knowing smirk, “Now what do you want?” I just mumbled, opened my mouth, and nibbled on his foreskin. Fuck! The smell of his dick was the most amazing thing, and the taste was beyond description. His balls were large, heavy, and stuck slightly to each thigh. I weighed them between my fingers, licked them over with my tongue, catching the hair in my teeth, twisting it in my mouth, having his musk wash over me. I then licked his shaft, end-to-end, side-to-side, and when I rolled his foreskin back was rewarded with a thick coating of precum. I had never knowingly licked HIV infected cum before (don’t know about the guy in the Bahamas), I so wanted to taste him, but was afraid of what Richard would say. Feeling my hesitancy James gently put his hand on the back of my head and pushed my face toward his dick. The smell from his dick head made me spin and when I finally flicked my tongue out to taste his precum I lost my breath. Oh My God! That tasted so sweet, salty, sweaty, and like a man. I did not care if he was POZ and had AIDs. I knew I wanted his cum. I opened my mouth wide and began to suck him. He was a good bit bigger than Richard, so I had to find my way and through trial and error figured out how to work his dick deep into my throat. James liked it and I was moaning and begging with every swallow. I was lost in what I was doing when James started to stand up. I leaned back, James stood, pulled me up, looked into my eyes, and asked, “What do you want?” I found myself saying what I had typed in my email from the ship, “Right now, more than anything, I want to be taken away, away from Richard and from my whole fucked up life.” “Is that all you want?” James asked as he took my hand and put it on his dick. “NO,” I SAID, “I WANT YOU, I WANT ALL OF YOU, I WANT ALL YOU’VE GOT, I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME, PLEASE WITH YOUR AIDS DICK!” James smiled, “You will get it all then.” He then pushed me onto the bed, “Get on your hands and knees.” It was sort of hard as the old creaky bed had a big indentation in the center, so I was not really even, but it pushed my ass up. James then said, “Reach around, spread that hole.” So I put my face down into the bed, took both hands, reached around, and spread my cheeks apart. James’ chin beard began digging into my sides as his tongue worked into my hole. Richard never ate my ass and while part of me was disgusted, part of me loved it and I begged for more. “Get on the floor,” James said. I was concerned about splinters because the floor was rough, unfinished, but he laid me on my back, tilted my hips up, scooted forward so my legs were held aloft by his arms, which he planted up by my shoulders. As he pressed forward and his face leaned down closer to mine, I could feel his dick working up my crack to my hole. James paused, looked me in the eyes and said, “I think this is the reason you came looking for me. For this moment, now tell me again, what do you need?” My breath caught in chest, my heart was racing, I tensed but I said, “I need you to fuck me, fuck me raw please. I want to be free.” James leaned back, reached under the bed, grabbed a can of something, sprayed a dirty piece of cloth off the floor and pushed it into my mouth and said, “Inhale through your mouth, deep breaths, just like that, heh, OK, wait, little more, now do it again.” Whatever was on the cloth mixed with the rum got my head good and spinning. I closed my eyes, opened them and saw James as he leaned back over me, lifted my legs back again, and then he smiled. The heat coming off of him was like a solar flare. My body relaxed and when I did he punched his dick into my ass. I grabbed his upper arms and dug my fingernails into him as I screamed as loud as I could and my whole body went board stiff. I couldn’t help it, and I screamed again and James just smiled, “It’s OK, its ok, let it out, I know it hurts, I know, but you need to let me in your ass. Relax, I know it hurts, but breathe and push, yes you can, push a little, that’s OK, scream again, no one can hear you so just let it out. Notice how my dick gets harder every time you scream? Makes me know you feel it. That’s it, let me in. I am going to breed you with my AIDs cum because I know that’s what you need.” I clung to James’ biceps for dear life while he slowly worked his dick in and out of my ass. He pulled almost all the way out, then with steady pressure pushed it in as far as it would go. He did this for a while, shifted forward a bit for better leverage as I felt the boards of the floor scratching up my ass. The next time he shifted, he then slowly pulled his dick all the way out. Just as I relaxed James slammed his dick into my ass again. The scream this time was primal, one of pain, and need. In that moment when he had pulled out I felt relief, but also emptiness, not just physical, but an emptiness in my being, so when he slammed it back in there was joy in that scream too. I was used to Richard who just fucked at a steady rhythm like a bad watch and cummed within a couple minutes. Not James. He would fuck slow, then pick up the pace, then fuck slow again, and soon his face and head and body was covered in hot beads of sweat from his fuck workout that dripped into my face. James smiled again and kept working my ass and leaned forward even more so he could kiss me. His tongue was long and hard, unlike Richard’s, which I always thought was sort of soft and squishy. He worked his tongue into every corner of my mouth while his hips and dick continued to beat my ass. James pulled back a little and smiled again and I said, “Please, do that again.” He said in a soft whisper, “What? What do you need? What do you need again?” My whole body was on fire now and blurted out, “I WANT YOU TO PUNCH FUCK ME AGAIN, PLEASE, I NEED THAT, AND I NEED YOUR CUM, PLEASE YOU – ALL OF YOU – ALL OF YOU, I NEED YOUR AIDS CUM!!! PLEASE!!!” James smiled, focused on my eyes and watched my reaction as he pulled his dick all the way out in one swift move, let it twitch around the end of my now gaping hole, then slammed it back in to make me scream. “Yes, yes, please make me scream, please, make me scream.” “Is that what you want?” James asked, “You want to scream? You want to bleed for me and open up?” “Yes please, take my ass, take it, make it bleed for you,” I said eagerly. James chuckled like an a villain in a movie, “You are already bleeding for me I can guarantee it – and that’s the way it should be. Just like fucking my wife on her period but her pussy has not been this tight ever! Now, I am going to breed you raw. Get ready, because I am going to let you have it ALL!” I was a raw virgin no more as my BBC top returned to slam fucking my ass. I screamed, yelped, whimpered, and begged for more and soon moved my hands down onto his hips to pull him into me every time he shoved his hard dick deeper. He was now pulling out on almost every thrust and slamming back in, knocking the breath out of me each time. “LET ME HEAR YOU NOW, LET ME HEAR YOUR SCREAM, THAT’S IT, GOT ME SO FUCKING HARD – OH FUCK YEAH – FUCK YEAH – TAKE ME – TAKE ME – TAKE MY AIDS!!! AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!” James gritted his teeth and shot his cum up my ass, thrust after thrust, pushing it deeper. As his thrusts relaxed, James kissed me hard and long again, pulled away a little, wiped my forehead with his right hand, looked in my eyes and said, “That was my first load of AIDs cum in your sweet hole, but it won’t be the last.” “Thank you James, you’re right, that’s what I wanted and is what I need.” I just closed my eyes and embraced the sweat, cum, and searing pain James left me. James got up and laughed as he said, “Damn, those boards are hard on the knees.” I got up and when I did noticed a blood/ass juice stain about the size of an orange on the wood floor where I had just been. I opened my mouth to say, not sure what, when James smiled and said, “Don’t worry about that. Given what I just did I am surprised there is not more, but you know what that means?” He pulled me close and said, “That blood there is proof, proof I have given you what you wanted and need, and proof that your ass is now infected with my AIDs ! We will leave that there as a reminder.” We got dressed and I asked James for a towel or something for my ass to wipe the cum and blood off. “No, your ‘man’ needs to learn,” James said with disdain in his voice. I was not sure what he meant, but would soon see. I followed James down the stairs, back through the warehouse and to the bar. When we got there the table where we left Richard was empty. I sat down and there were only a few guys left and they all looked my way. James went over to the door, spoke to the two big guys who had stopped us when we walked in, they looked at me, at him, the one on the right got up and slid the bolt on the door and sat back down. James came back and said, “Looks like he could not hold his liquor. They said he had a couple more drinks, and has been in the bathroom a while. Stand up, let me see how you are.” I stood up, James ran his hands up and down my legs, “You got some ass juice and blood running down your leg.” I started to apologize but he interrupted me and said, “Since you are all lubed up, I think we need to give you some more of what you need. Boys! Come over here.” I watched as the two big guys who were standing by the door came over. James said, “Look boys, I just opened him up nice and good, but he needs something more, so what do you say? Up for taking a test spin?” The three of them laughed and before they finished they were both undoing their pants. I was nervous as there were still people at some of the other tables, but as James cleared the glasses off the table one of the big guys bent me over, pulled my shorts down, and rammed his dick in me. I screamed out, James laughed and said, “That’s it boys, you know you got it right when he screams, now keep it up. I want to hear those screams loud!!!” The other big guy walked in front of me and put his dick in my mouth as I lay over the table being pummeled from the back. They were not quite as big as James, but big and thick, so I felt like I was the turkey at Thanksgiving. I wasn’t screaming anymore, just almost humming as I sucked one cock and milked the other with my ass. I then heard a shrieking voice, “What are you doing? Get off him! Get OFF! STOP THAT!!!!!” It was Richard. Oh damn. I tried to push up off the table, but the guy fucking me held me down, while the guy I was sucking pulled his dick out and walked to my left and behind me. Richard’s voice was more insistent and shrill. “GET OFF! STOP! GET OFF! GET….” James spoke up, “Look, I think it is time for you to leave. Yes, leave, we’re closing see. Private event and all. BOYS!” With that the guy fucking me pulled out fast, made me gasp, and when I turned around I saw Richard, wide-eyed, spit drooling from one side of his mouth, being held by the guy I had been sucking. He looked at me with disgust, hatred, confusion, fear, and no love – no love at all. “You see, we did as you asked, and we stopped, but I don’t think that’s what he wants, is it? What do you think? Shall we ask him?” James said, the disdain for Richards pathetic being dripped in his voice thick and heavy. Richard just shook his head as he looked at me with disgust. I turned around, laid back over the table with my bloody ass facing his way, as James laughed louder and heartier than I had heard him yet. As the boys began to escort Richard to the door, James came up behind me, pulled his dick out and slammed me again. At that angle and already being lubed up, he went balls deep. The last sounds Richard heard as they locked the door behind him was me screaming and begging James to fuck me raw, fuck me harder, and breed me again with his AIDs. That day began my life at Jimmy’s. I didn’t make it back to the ship and have not seen Richard since. I sleep to the rhythm of St. Thomas’ nights and I spend my days helping James out with his businesses, servicing his dick when and how he wants it, and making sure the guys at Jimmy’s always have a good time. Jimmy’s is a bug chaser’s paradise full of horned up men who like it raw, bloody, and AIDs filled, and when they are done with me and the other guys they go home to their happy wives. The warehouse has provided lots of stories and great places to fuck, store rooms, in the trucks, in the garage, and I even won a bet with Jimmy who said I could not get one of his ‘straight’ mechanics to fuck me. I even saw Andre the taxi-bus driver who dropped Richard and I off that first day, who was not surprised to see me there when he stopped a few days later and had to test out my ass for himself. All stories for another time. It has been over a year since I last saw Richard. He has tried calling and emailing James has said, but that was another lifetime ago, a life of being negative and chained – now I am POZ, free, and full of Caribbean AIDs-filled cum.
