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My Aids Lover


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This account is inspired by another thread in this forum, “The Aids Old Troll”

 

One of the hottest fucks I ever had was from a poz guy in his mid-50s with severe HIV lipodystrophy. He looked like a mutant, with severely lean, vascular arms and legs, a hard distended belly (also known as "Crix gut," a side effect from the drug crixivan) and a buffalo hump on his upper back. Of course, his pock-marked face also showed the ravages of HIV: hollow cheeks, deep lines and sunken but piercing eyes.

 

The minute I saw him at the baths in LA in the late 90s, I knew that I had to have him - especially after I reached under his towel and felt the fat, heavy meat swinging between his pencil thin legs. Once we got to my room, the only way that I could take him was to sit on his dick because it hurt too much to do it any other way, even with my hole already lubed with two loads of poz cum. But it wasn't long before the pain subsided and there was only pleasure.

 

That’s when we changed positions. First, I got on my hands and knees while he plowed my ass like a dog in heat. My dick got rock hard as I studied our reflection in the mirrors - not just from the intense pleasure of a fat dick ripping up my cunt, but mostly from watching this sick, deformed animal breeding me like his prey.

 

By this time I was so high with lust that I knew I was in love with him - even if only for a fuck. I wanted him completely, so I flipped over on my back, spread my legs and willingly surrendered my guts as an incubator for his demon spawn. He mounted me and sank his poz cock deep inside my cunt. He was as crazed with lust, and he gripped my neck tightly with both hands as he continued to tear into the soft lining of my guts.

 

He was stronger that I had expected, given his sick condition - but the kind of lust flowing through him was supernatural. He was breathing like a charging animal. I could have died in his grip, but I wasn’t afraid. Looking up at his wasted face, I was hypnotized by the mixture of pure desire and evil in his eyes. I felt as if were staring into the face of the devil himself as he drilled my bleeding cunt hard, rolled his eyes back and cried out. I felt his weapon pulsing inside me as his swollen balls spewed his toxic seed into my helpless body.

 

We were both drenched in sweat as he lay on top of me. He let go of my neck, and I instinctively wrapped my arms and legs tightly around his diseased form. I kissed him passionately, letting go of his lips only to take his fingers in my mouth as he tenderly fed me the mixture of sperm and blood from my hole. We were lovers for maybe 15 minutes - but his DNA is in my cells forever.

 

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Guest bwayman

hollow cheeks, deep lines and sunken but piercing eyes.

 

Nothing more beautiful than the look.  Poz Gods and AIDS Studs deserve our worship.  

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One of the hottest fucks I ever had was from a poz guy in his mid-50s with severe HIV lipodystrophy. He looked like a mutant, with severely lean, vascular arms and legs, a hard distended belly (also known as "Crix gut," a side effect from the drug crixivan) and a buffalo hump on his upper back. Of course, his pock-marked face also showed the ravages of HIV: hollow cheeks, deep lines and sunken but piercing eyes.

(...)

The minute I saw him at the baths in LA in the late 90s, I knew that I had to have him - especially after I reached under his towel and felt the fat, heavy meat swinging between his pencil thin legs.

(...)

Looking up at his wasted face, I was hypnotized by the mixture of pure desire and evil in his eyes. I felt as if were staring into the face of the devil himself as he drilled my bleeding cunt hard, rolled his eyes back and cried out. I felt his weapon pulsing inside me as his swollen balls spewed his toxic seed into my helpless body.

 

 

Thank you for sharing this with us. In the late 90s, when AIDS stopped being the death sentence that it had been before, I was still in kindergarten. So I never had the chance to experience the intensity that sex must have had at a time when having sex was still a question of life and death. I think thanks to this post I've got a way better understanding of it now.

 

But even though I haven't witnessed those times myself, I can still relate to the way the AIDS-deformed body of this man fascinated you. Something very similar happened to me, too.

 

During one of my first visits to a gay bathhouse, I was taking a shower in a small tiled room that was more like a mere niche with two shower heads on one wall and two more on the opposite one, when a man squeezed in next to me to take a shower as well.

 

He looked very much like the guy you described: from the thin, veiny arms and legs to the hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. I had noticed him before: I felt like he was following me around and he even tried to make eye contact a couple of times. But I'd always taken to my heels - the intensity of his stare scared me to death.

 

So here we were, jammed together in this small shower room and the only way out would have been to squeeze past his deformed body. At least he was facing the wall, squeezing shampoo into his cupped palm. I was counting his vertebrae when he suddenly turned around, allowing me the first unconcealed view of his front without a towel around his waist. Maybe it was due to the emaciation of his frail body or the contrast to his thin limbs, but maybe it was just plain huge: anyway, the man's cock looked monstrous to me. And I couldn't stop staring at it.

 

Thank God he was busy shampooing his hair, lather all over his head, so he wasn't likely to catch me looking at this fat, uncut monster. At least that's what I thought. More probably he was all too aware of my eyes roaming over his skinny body, inevitably drawn back to his huge dick again and again. At least the cock itself seemed to feel my eyes on it - it started filling out, getting thicker by the second, the veins popping out even more, the foreskin pulled back halfway over the purple, arrow-shaped cockhead, the cock itself jerking slightly, swaying slowly from side to side.

 

When I finally managed to tear my eyes away from this fascinating little show unfolding in front of me, I realized that I had been watched myself. The man's piercing stare seemed to be looking right through me. "Wanna touch it?", he whispered in a husky voice. Back then all I could think about was getting away, so I grabbed my towel and ran, almost slipping on the wet tiled floor.

 

But later, safe behind the locked door of the room I had rented, I jerked off furiously, imagining what might have happened if I had just reached out and touched this impressive specimen of manhood...

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Thank you for sharing this with us. In the late 90s, when AIDS stopped being the death sentence that it had been before, I was still in kindergarten. So I never had the chance to experience the intensity that sex must have had at a time when having sex was still a question of life and death. I think thanks to this post I've got a way better understanding of it now.

 

But even though I haven't witnessed those times myself, I can still relate to the way the AIDS-deformed body of this man fascinated you. Something very similar happened to me, too.

 

During one of my first visits to a gay bathhouse, I was taking a shower in a small tiled room that was more like a mere niche with two shower heads on one wall and two more on the opposite one, when a man squeezed in next to me to take a shower as well.

 

He looked very much like the guy you described: from the thin, veiny arms and legs to the hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. I had noticed him before: I felt like he was following me around and he even tried to make eye contact a couple of times. But I'd always taken to my heels - the intensity of his stare scared me to death.

 

So here we were, jammed together in this small shower room and the only way out would have been to squeeze past his deformed body. At least he was facing the wall, squeezing shampoo into his cupped palm. I was counting his vertebrae when he suddenly turned around, allowing me the first unconcealed view of his front without a towel around his waist. Maybe it was due to the emaciation of his frail body or the contrast to his thin limbs, but maybe it was just plain huge: anyway, the man's cock looked monstrous to me. And I couldn't stop staring at it.

 

Thank God he was busy shampooing his hair, lather all over his head, so he wasn't likely to catch me looking at this fat, uncut monster. At least that's what I thought. More probably he was all too aware of my eyes roaming over his skinny body, inevitably drawn back to his huge dick again and again. At least the cock itself seemed to feel my eyes on it - it started filling out, getting thicker by the second, the veins popping out even more, the foreskin pulled back halfway over the purple, arrow-shaped cockhead, the cock itself jerking slightly, swaying slowly from side to side.

 

When I finally managed to tear my eyes away from this fascinating little show unfolding in front of me, I realized that I had been watched myself. The man's piercing stare seemed to be looking right through me. "Wanna touch it?", he whispered in a husky voice. Back then all I could think about was getting away, so I grabbed my towel and ran, almost slipping on the wet tiled floor.

 

But later, safe behind the locked door of the room I had rented, I jerked off furiously, imagining what might have happened if I had just reached out and touched this impressive specimen of manhood...

Great story. You could have been carrying his DNA today!

 

It reminds me of the time that I met another guy with AIDS in the shower at the baths. He was all alone, because other guys were afraid that they could get AIDS just standing next to him in the shower. Admittedly, he had several KS lesions on his neck and chest that looked scary.

 

But the stigma and fear that was attached to him only made me want him more, so I followed him to his room after his shower. We spent more than an hour kissing and making out while I sucked his dick and heavy balls. I also ate out his ass, which I was happily surprised to discover had at least one load of jizz inside.

 

Eating his ass got his dick rock hard, and he quickly pushed my legs back and shoved his dick into my ass. I remember staring at the KS lesions on his neck and staring deep into his sunken eyes as he finally unloaded his babies in my guts. I left his room with toxic cum dripping from my ass and a feeling that I had won the prize.

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Great story. You could have been carrying his DNA today!

 

 

 

Yeah, thought about this guy (I don't even know his name...) a lot lately. The thoughts of what might have been always make me itchy. Maybe I should go back to that place and check if he's still around. He seemed to be interested last time, so maybe...

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