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Pozdaddy


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“Okay, boy, you sure you want this?”

You’re on your back in my living room. This isn’t a rhetorical question: I need to know that you’re absolutely certain you want my DNA up your butt, that you’ve made the right choice in asking me to be your pozdaddy. You’re naked, not because I want particularly to look, but because your dick shrinks a little when you lie.

“Why? It’s given me hell. The drugs have damn near killed me, let alone the infections”

“But Sir, you’re free: you don’t ever have to worry about it again”

“True, but I can call up a list of other diseases I have to be careful about...”

“If I get the big one out of the way and deal with it, what the fuck – ouch...”

“Told you you’d get a kicking if you cuss without permission... carry on...”

“What’s left to worry about?”

“Well there’s gonnorhoea, chlamydia, syphilis, the various hepatitises, herpes, you name it. HIV isn’t the only player in town”

“Why me? Why d’you want me for your pozdaddy?”

“SIr, you’re horny, you’ve lasted a long time in this game. I’ve heard nothing bad about you: you’re always good to your boys, even when they’ve been, may I say it Sir? shits .”

“Okay, you realise that if I fuck you, you’ve got 72 hours to scream and shout in a pharmacy or A&E room to get PEP? And you’re doing that alone because you signed that little bit of paper saying that you were fully aware of the situation and you entered into it with your eyes and legs open?”

I lean back in my chair and beckon you towards me. I open my legs to let you in closer: I want to feel this body before me. You so desperately want my virus, something that may well kill you. I can’t justify my actions: I can only hope that the drugs are kind to you. You’ve gone through all my questions about why you want it without fault, spotting the false logic questions. I rub your face across my crotch, feel my dick quickening at your breath through the denim.

I push you back briefly while I take my vest off, but you lunge forwards as soon as a pierced nipple is exposed, your other hand groping for my other tit. Fuck, but they’re hardwired to my dick... Fastest way to get me hard is to chew on a nipple – either one. They’re equal opportunity sluts.

Ah, fuckit, you’re getting it, kid... I pull my vest off and note approvingly that each of my boots is licked appropriately before being set aside. I watch approvingly as you pull down my jeans and replace my boots so I’m wearing jock and boots, my favourite way of starting sex. I pull your head over my jock so you can feel my hardon and start cleaning my boots. I don’t care how old fashioned it is: I love the submission of a boy on my boots...

Boots look clean, come up and taste the precum leaking through my jock. There’s a bottle of oil next to you: I catch your vague shock at this: “Where we’re going I like oil – no condoms remember?”I lean back and watch you struggling to get my cock out of my jock with just your mouth, while at the same time getting yourself oiled up ready for Daddy’s dick. I can see what almost amounts to alarm in your face. I hold you and remind you it’s what you’ve told me you’ve wanted through all those emails. You can still get dressed and walk out the door.

Naked, now, but for my boots, I lie on the floor. I can see the oil dripping from your ass, a symbol of your desire. Anything that happens now is your decision: fuck, but I want to get into your ass, but you have to make that decision, to take that chance. I feel you running oil over my cock as you straddle me. Are you really going to be my pozboy? I love the ease and slipperiness of oil (it’s a private joke with myself always to use extra virgin olive oil).

Ah, shit, man, in a few seconds you’ve moved from being a boy to a man, the feeling of your ass around my dick.. The open joy on your face as you take my entire dick inside you, the way you work your muscles to milk me. You cum, prematurely I think, it’s such an emotional experience, but keep working on me until I can’t hold it back however much I want to.

I give in, feeling each spasm squirting more and more of my cum into you. When I finally relax, you lean over, my dick still in you, and whisper the words “my Pozdaddy”...

A few weeks later I get the phone call: “You did it Sir: right now I feel like shit, but I need to see my Pozdaddy soon...”

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Guest Mandevilleguy1

I would love to get videoed as I am filled with toxic cum from bug donors trying to convert me. I am neg and HIV resistant due to DNA DYS 390 Marker 23 (look it up)

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“I need to see my Pozdaddy soon...” Last words I heard from you – you were going through fuck flu and of course you felt like shit – most of us do. Yeah, I’m sneaky – I used dialback to get your number, so I know where you are, but the important thing is you get in touch with me. You’ve got to want your Pozdaddy: the urge has to grip your balls and pull you to me.

I read, I watch porn, and always the phone is on my mind. Changing my email was deliberate. I didn’t want a day by day account of your fuck flu or to hear that you regretted taking that load up your ass. Passive aggression through email is so much easier than over the phone. I don’t tolerate it.

Eventually, the phone rings: “Daddy, my Pozdaddy... can I talk to you?” I’ve been worried and only one of my boys have I given that name to, so naturally I say “yes”. The phone goes dead and the doorbell rings: there you are on my doorstep, fuck knows how far from home. From the moment I bred you I had a responsibility to my pozboy. I hide the pleasure in my face as I lead you to the living room where you became my boy. I sit down and you automatically sit between my open legs.

You half roll around and bury your face in my crotch “If you knew how much I’ve wanted to be here again”

“I’ve been so scared”

“That’s why I kept asking you if you really wanted it”

“Sir, yes... I did and I do. I’ve learned that it’s not the easiest way to live, but it’s right for me. They say I don’t need meds yet. But I can’t stop thinking that anyone I fuck could get it.”

“The obvious answer to that is to keep it in your pants. Or you could wrap it, though personally I’d prefer celibacy...”

“Celibacy? No fuckin’ –that one hurt Sir, sorry I forgot... Was going to say ‘no way’”

“So you need to meet other poz guys... A talent for sucking it up like yours shouldn’t go to waste. I know what you’re like as a bottom – I’m a sexual opportunist: you’re going to give me the best fuck of my life. After all, if I’m going to whore you out I need to know what I’m giving my mates. And don’t worry: I’m flexible – all my mates know I give and take...”

You turn round to stare at me in disbelief: “Yes, Pozdaddy likes it up the ass as well. A lot of fun, but I also need to know that you can fuck, and believe me, I’m a connoisseur...”

I lie on the floor in front of you, pull vest and jeans off (all I’m wearing) “if you don’t shut that mouth, I’ll have to fuck it. Get your fucking clothes off: you’ve got me swimming inside you: I want you doing the same.”

I lie back and watch the feast of a muscled guy taking his time getting his kit off. Shame there’s not much body hair, but he’s young yet. He slowly, impudently, takes my dick in his mouth: I surrender my control. He lifts me legs over my head and I can feel his cock pressing against my ass. Almost as an afterthought, he pours olive oil over his dick and my ass, then pushes in. I don’t usually like being restrained but when he grabs my wrists, it feels right. As does the naked cock in my ass. I do the best I can to wrap my legs around him as he pounds at my hole. He closes his eyes, off in his own world as I feel him spurting his DNA into me, even as he returns some of mine. The image, the muscles, the idea. All too much for me and I cum spontaneously, clamping my ass muscles around his dick as though I were trying to pull more of his cum from him.

He collapses over me and I enjoy the weight of the man lying on me, the smell of our cum and our sweat. My pozboy: a relationship we’ll never lose, bound by our own DNA. We each know what the other needs...

I pick up the phone “Hey Jim? Remember that cute lad I met a couple of months ago? Turns out I pozzed him: just had a refresher myself. Fucks as well as he takes it... And really into older guys: wants to be whored out...”

Pozboy’s smile at our brief conversation needs to be seen to be believed. Fuck, but I’ve got a pig on my hands...

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Guest JizzDumpWI

Good to see the story unfolding bearbandit. Man I can almost see myself in the middle of all that as part 3 happens. Already boned and oozing thinkin about that.

JDW

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