Stripped Bare

[logan43]

Stripped Bare – A Series

Chapter 1: Engaging Zack

With gay weddings come gay bachelor parties. And when my friends announced their engagement, plans quickly materialized for a celebratory weekend in Vegas for both of the grooms. I was given the task of securing in-room entertainment – specifically, a stripper – before one of our big nights on the town.

I guess a brief description of myself is in order. I’m 31 years old, six feet tall, 175 pounds, tan, with brown hair and brown eyes. I have an athletic build – I workout a lot and have always played a variety of sports – and am considered attractive. I’m single – one of the few single guys in my group of friends – and have had a few serious relationships over time.

Anyway, back to my bachelor party task. I had some trouble finding a stripper who’d come to our room on the strip for a private show. I perused various websites until ultimately I ended up on an escort web hub, where I found an incredibly sexy guy named Zack. His profile was HOT – pictures showed a strapping, all American muscled jock, probably in with a big dick. He was tanned and toned, with short brown hair. He indicated some prior experience as a stripper and in porn, as well as his services as a paid date.

I messaged Zack, saying we needed a guy to come and strip for a group of about 12 early 30-something gays visiting in a few weeks. He replied within a few hours, saying he’d be happy to do so and laying out the logistics and price. He gave me his cell phone number, I gave him mine, we’d connect as the date got closer.

Starting a day before we left for Sin City, Zack and I began exchanging more messages. I was flirty, as I was enamored with what I’d observed (and I’d checked out his profile and pics on many occasions since the first message). He seemed to reciprocate the flirtation, though I knew that might just be the escort in him stroking my ego. I sent him a few pictures of myself under the guise of showing him who to be on the lookout for when I went to retrieve him in the lobby at the appointed time. His response, “cute,” garnered a few increasingly scandalous shots, culminating in my sending him a cock shot. “Yummy” he said, continuing “but I’m more interested in seeing your ass.” I told him he’d have to see it in person.

The time finally came for me to retreat from the bachelors’ suite to bring Zack up. In the lobby, I spotted the prize and approached him. He was even better looking in person than the website conveyed. So hot, oozing with sexuality and personality. We shook hands, and the energy between us was genuinely electric.

In the elevator on the way up to the room, he attacked me, throwing his tongue down my throat. Apparently he, too, liked what he saw. I told him that after his show and apart from the gaggle of gossipy gays I was with, we had to get together. I told him my room number and we agreed to meet there 15 minutes after he left.

The boys were impressed with the man meat I brought into the suite. Zack wasted no time in getting everyone seated and working the crowd. I was so fucking turned on watching him unrobe, exposing his thick legs, bubble butt, perfect swimmer’s body. He played with his penis, hidden from plain sight by a speedo but clearly defined as a monster. He rubbed against the men gathered in the room and had everyone mesmerized by his body and talent.

The show eventually ended, Zack left the suite, and my stomach churned with excitement of what was to come. The group was about to head out for the night, when I said I wasn’t feeling well and would sit the evening out. All were drunk enough and anxious to get out not to protest. I sped to my room.

Five excruciatingly long minutes later, I heard a knock at my door. My Adonis had arrived. I ushered him in quickly and we greeted each other with a long kiss and intense groping. He asked to shower off the oil left over from his performance. I, of course, obliged.

Once he was fully undressed, I marveled at his amazing body again and, now, at his cock in full sight just for me. He stepped into the steamy spray. I quickly undressed and followed him.

I was unarmed. This was all so right. We soaped, we kissed, we groped, and our dicks grew ever harder as they bobbed against each other below.

I then sunk to my knees and began worshiping his penis with my tongue. He held my ears and fucked my skull. His balls would tense occasionally in delight. My own cock was rock hard, erectly waiting its own attention.

Finally he pulled me to my feet and suggested we move from the shower to the bedroom.

After a quick towel dry and walk to the bed, he pushed me onto my back and took my legs on his shoulders while he bowed to the floor. He kissed and licked his way down my smooth, muscular chest, around my dick and nuts, and, finally, to my ass. I’ve never been penetrated by such a talented tongue before. It was epic and had me twitching and squirming in delight.

After fucking my ass with his mouth, he worked his first finger into my tight hole. My stomach was again in knots in anticipation. Then a second finger made its way in. My head rolled back into the sheets. Finally, he reached for his pants on the floor, from which he pulled a rubber (a magnum) and a small tube of lube – hookers, like boy scouts, come prepared apparently.

He tore the condom packet with his teeth, and unrolled the latex over his veiny rock hard member. The closer to the base he got, the more engorged his dick seemed to get. He drizzled a bit of lube on the tip of his sheethed cock and then a little onto his finger, with which he then played more with my hole lubing it.

Finally, with my legs spread wide and ankles in his hand, he pushed the tip of his dick against my hole.

It was as expected – agony at the size of his tool, ecstasy that we were consummating this lustful encounter. My hole adjusted as he slowly pushed deeper, pulling back and pushing forward so as not to make too painful an entry. He had skill.

Ultimately, I felt him balls deep in me. I smiled; he collapsed onto me and kissed me. He then began working into a fantastic fuck rhythm. Slow at first, then faster. In and out. He’d adjust occasionally, turning me on my side, fucking me from behind, pulling my head back so he could gnaw at my neck. It was the fuck of a lifetime.

As his sex tempo increased, he returned me to my back, he standing next to the bed, my legs spread wide and in the grasp of his strong hands.

He said he was close, and so was I. Although I probably could’ve cum without touching myself, I picked up the pace of jerking my cock as he pounded my hole faster and faster, harder and harder.

“I’m gonna cum” he said, as his head slowly bent toward the ceiling and his body began to tense.

He then began yelling, grunting, thrusting, and I knew he was unleashing his big, sex worker load. “Oh fuuuuuuuuck.” He probably came for 30 seconds straight.

I was intensely watching his face and body as I stroked my precummy cock even faster. I could sense he was about to retreat from my ass to relieve his sensitive dick, so I begged “please don’t pull out.” He did anyway, and I remained on the edge of cumming.

Immediately I saw a change in the expression on his face: he went from pure pleasure to concern. “Oh fuck.” He said looking down at his dick. “My condom broke – I just shot my load in your ass, man. fuck, fuck, fuck....”

“I don’t care! Just fuck me more, shove your big dick back in me.” I said as I feverishly jacked my close-to-bursting cock. I needed to be filled again.

I felt his cock against my hole, but he withheld entry. “Fuck, dude… I don’t really know how to say it, but I just tested positive last week. Shit! I just shot a poz load in your ass, man. I’m so fucking sorry.” He said with angst.

I wasn’t registering words at the moment. All I knew is that my rock hard dick was pulsing and needed relief, and that I was with the hottest guys I’d ever been with. With my legs wrapped around him, I reached around with one hand and grabbed hold of his dick, guiding it in my now-cummy hole as I pulled him into me again. I was again complete, and his masterful cock was pushing his poz jizz deeper into my gut. A warmth overtook my whole body and I shot the biggest wad all over my chest and face.

To be continued.

[breedbaltimore]

Hot! Can't wait for more

[Guest JizzDumpWI]

Sure boned me!

[wroxguy]

I hope this does lead to a positive outcome. More please !

[thinksmart]

nice bud wish that was me in the spot

[seaguy]

Excellent story

[logan43]

Chapter 2: Past Demons

A month before his encounter with me, Zack found himself the subject of what could only be described as a hate fuck. Steve’s vitriol for Zack was manifest in each pounding thrust into Zack’s tight ass. Steve wanted to hurt Zack, he wanted to pummel the hole few others had entered. He wanted to bring impurity into Zack’s seemingly perfect world without Steve, and to leave Zack forever marked with Steve’s now-venomous load. He wanted Zack to regret everything about Steve, so he pounded away until he shot his poison seed deep into Zack’s then-negative guts. He was sure his poz semen would take hold and change Zack for good.

Steve and Zack had been boyfriends in LA. Both were strikingly good looking and both made good money as strippers (with escorting gigs on the side). But Zack was discontent with the LA scene and bored with Steve, so he lined up work with a manager in Vegas who would get Zack into more lucrative sex work, like work in porn and with higher paying clients. Without much notice, Zack then left Steve for Sin City.

Steve was blindsided and distraught at Zack’s sudden departure and termination of their relationship. Not knowing how to handle the emotions, he started drinking heavily the afternoon Zack left.

By eleven o’clock that night, he found himself shitfaced in front of a bathhouse in West Hollywood. He entered and wandered throughout the maze of rooms. Feeling needy and alone, he stripped to a jock strap and entered his own rom.

Previously a safe sex practitioner with almost everyone but Zack, Steve mounted the bed and presented himself, spread eagle, ready, willing and able to be fucked by anyone. There would be no “condoms only” restrictions that night. Steve’s tan and fuzzy ass in the air welcomed men to approach, without hesitation.

Steve was a popular man that night: rarely did such a stud present himself for an open call for fucking. Man after man, all ages, sizes, and ethnicities, made their way into Steve’s room to fuck the living shit out of him. To Steve, it felt right being so used after he’d been discarded by Zack that afternoon. His cock went largely unattended while about 19 men enthusiastically announced their incoming load into Steve’s cunt.

By 3 a.m., Steve wound up sleeping in the bed of one of the men who’d planted poz seed in him that night. The man, known only in Steve’s hazy mind as “Daddy,” was in his early fifties, had an unnaturally muscular body, leathery tan skin, pierced nipples, a five o’clock shadow, salt and pepper hair with a military cut, and a plethora of tattoos. His look was, therefore, quite different from the clean cut preppy appearance of both Zack and Steve.

When Steve awoke by the strange man’s side, his apathy had dulled and he thought “what the fuck have I done?”

Already awake, and perhaps perceiving this inevitable reaction, Daddy said to Steve “Relax, boy. You’re going to be fine. You’re about to be part of the brotherhood. And I’m here to take care of you.”

Steve somehow hadn’t cum during his bathouse whoring session. His hole was sore and jizz-soaked, and he was hungover, but when he looked at the man speaking, assessing his rough and sexual body, noticing his biohazard tattoo in the pubic region above his massive uncut cock, Steve found his dick stiffening. It wasn't just morning wood: He wanted Daddy. The regret he felt moments before dissipated, his depression over Zack seemed like a distant memory, and he knew he needed this man’s -man wholly.

Daddy noticed, and kissed Steve, rubbing his cock until it was fully erect at 7 inches. Pulsing and rock hard, it wouldn’t take long for Steve to cum. Daddy turned Steve on his side, parted his bountiful ass, and inserted his hard, veiny, demon dick into Steve’s cunt. Steve was a more-than willing recipient.

Daddy was balls deep into his new boy almost instantly, and he grinded his dick into his ass while also reaching around Steve’s taught waist to stroke his prick. Their fuck rhythm was perfectly aligned. Steve loved every gentle movement of Daddy invading his hole.

Daddy whispered in Steve’s ear, “I’m about to cum in you boy, boy. I’m going to mark you as mine, trumping all the other cum in you lubing your sex chute now. My toxic load will knock you up, and you’re going to be my progeny. This is your destiny.”

And with that, Daddy unloaded in Steve’s gut, and Steve’s cock sprayed cum all over the sheets of Daddy’s bed.

Daddy whispered again “Your neg loads are numbered, boy,” and he scooped up some of Steve's cum, licked it from his fingers, and kissed Steve.

To be continued.

[mike43]

Mmm. Very hot keep it going

[firefighter]

A super story, keep up the good work .

[rawemobttm]

damn hot =)

[wroxguy]

fuck, that's one hot story. More please !

[logan43]

Chapter 3: Changed.

Back at his own place again, Steve was about to shower off, cleansing himself of the bender to the bathhouse and thereafter to Daddy’s apartment the night before. He smelled of sweat, cum, and booze, and he was tired.

After peeling off the clothes, he admired himself in the full length mirror. Through his haggard, blood shot, steel blue eyes, he still appeared as he had 24 hours earlier, an athletic hunk of a man. He noted how the gym and tanning bed had paid off. Although his hole was worn out at the moment, he looked at his bubbly ass and thought cockily “How the fuck could Zack walk away from this?”

But he knew that inside, a toxic brew was already changing him. By Daddy’s own words, HIV was likely taking hold, and who knows what lesser STDs the other 18 or so guys deposited in his previously clean ass: Herpes? Gonorrhea? Syphilis? Hepatitis? Only time would tell what fate he’d imposed on himself.

Reality set in: Steve’s life had changed permanently in a matter of hours. He would now be a different sex worker: few would want to pay for his services if they caught wind of his afflictions, and no longer could he be a player in lucrative, “pretty” “jock” porns--There was no placed for diseased dick or ass there. And no longer did he have even a remote chance of winning back Zack: Zack was a painstaking prude about keeping himself STD free, and wouldn’t even fuck a guy with a condom who he knew to have anything. Instead, Steve would have doctors’ visits, he’d have pain, he’d have medicine. But he’d also have freedom.

Steve was in a haze all day contemplating his situation. He couldn’t stop fixating on how good Daddy’s cock felt in him that morning, wondering how Daddy’s load tasted, and thinking about how Daddy made him feel desired and complete in a way that Zack never had – with Zack it was always kind of a game. He was also oddly excited about the potential forces at work in his bloodstream – could he possibly look forward to painful piss, sores on his cock, and the terrible fuck flu he’d heard so often about? No way. What the fuck was happening, and how could he possibly sustain such a life or eroticized thoughts over something so many people fear?

Steve reported for work at the club at 9 that night. He was always a crowd pleasing stripper. He’d whisper sexy shit in guys’ ears, let them caress his thick calve muscles, and would let fingers wander across his Viagra-induced hard-on as the desperate men stuffed dollars in his thong. But that night, he wasn’t into it. All he could only think of was Daddy, the man who’d planted his poz seed in him hours earlier. So at the second break, he grabbed his shit and left, to his manager’s dismay and protest.

Daddy opened his door after Steve’s knock and was pleased.

“Last night changed me. I can’t pick up where I left off.”

“Good. You couldn’t even if you wanted to” and he ushered Steve inside.

[Bttm2go]

Damn hot story!

[logan43]

Chapter 4: Fucked Over

By two weeks after their initial meeting, Daddy and Steve were inseparable. Steve had essentially begun residing with Daddy. Daddy enjoyed his new progeny and relished in the lustful energy and obedience of the young man. They kept to themselves, Steve being Daddy’s personal, continual cum repository.

Daddy made Steve take certain measures to better himself, and Steve, being ready for personal change, willingly complied. Steve began a regimen of steroids, as Daddy wanted his college athlete build to be more hulking. Steve got his first tattoo – a large, Tom of Finland-esque depiction of a gang bang, referencing Steve’s first night of freedom. Steve got his first piercing, a nipple ring, which he liked so much he followed with another.

Steve extracted himself from his work at the strip club and from escorting as his body aligned itself with Steve’s new identiy. A cold sore on his lip. A scab on his cock. An oozing prick. Days passed, symptoms arose and were treated as needed. Finally the symptom of all symptoms struck Steve, a flu like no other. Steve had been transformed into a dirty cum whore, unabashedly demonstrating the consummation of his union with HIV.

Months passed, and Daddy remained infatuated with his boy and was pleased with the man Steve had become. On occasion he’d share Steve with another man from the brotherhood, sometimes as a treat for Steve, sometimes to earn some income from his sexy boy’s body, and sometimes just to watch his boy get recharged by poison cocks.

As the year anniversary of their fateful date approached, Daddy arranged a special present for Steve. Daddy told Steve to prepare himself for a celebratory getaway, and that a sexual prize awaited Steve on arrival at their destination.

As Steve made final preparations for the mystery trip, Steve found himself again looking at his body in the mirror. The image no longer resembled that which had peered back at him the night after his first encounter with Daddy.

He started to jerk off as he looked at his body.

His muscles were that of a caricature: bulging, unnaturally large. He admired how his dark brown tan made them pop.

His tattoos, oh his tattoos. He’d become a billboard for erotic art. Images men fucking and sucking in various positions and portrayed in a variety of styles appeared all over his body. A huge biohazard tattoo over his cock foretold of the noxious cum churning inside him.

In sum, his image had been transformed from preppy college jock to edgy masculine ass kicker.

And as he stroked his dick, he thought of the diseases flooding his blood and pervading his semen. He thought of the many men who’d planted their venomous seed in him over the prior year, and how toxic his own seed had become.

And he thought of Daddy…. Daddy had changed him from a pathetic desperate sex worker to being a confident, viral man, capable of anything and free of the constrains of his former life. Daddy had chosen him, a spread eagle whore in a bathouse, to be his progeny and his partner.

As thoughts of Daddy’s big uncut dick entered his head, and as Steve continued to admire the image of himself in the mirror, Steve shot a huge load.

And then he heard Daddy say “Steve, let’s go. Your anniversary surprise awaits you in Vegas; we can’t miss our plane….”

Daddy had arranged for Steve to fuck -- or rather, fuck over -- Zack.

To be continued.

[pghpigbtm]

love the way this story is unfolding in non-linear pieces. You're a great story teller Logan, can't wait for the next installment.