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I had met him on BBRTS a year earlier.  He lived about two hours away, but there weren't many men where I lived, and his profile piqued my interest.   It said he was 30, versatile, and it provided two photographs of a sexy dude with a nice cock in bed. HIV status:  ask me. I contacted him with my bugchasing profile.

 

He was interested, but said he didn’t know his status, adding that he preferred not to know so that he wasn't culpable of pozzing guys.  We talked off and on for a few months trading fantasies.  A re-occurring fantasy of his was that of fucking drunk college boys from the large school in his town and pozzing their asses with unmedicated cum.

 

At the time I was mostly just fantasizing.  I had taken an undetectable poz load once or twice a year earlier, and honestly wasn’t sure about this guy, but I knew I wasn’t going to drive two hours to find out if he was legit.  And if he was poz and unmedicated, I wasn’t ready for that either.  I lost track of him after about a while.

 

A year later I spot him online again and by chance I would be driving near his town, so I contacted him.  This time he didn’t hesitate to tell me he had recently been confirmed as POZ, and was still unmedicated.  The last bloodwork had shown a viral load of 97,000.  He mentioned he had been thinking of calling me, and so I found we ended-up talking about what he wanted to to do me.  His voice was masculine and projected a cocky jock attitude. He told me to call him when I hit the road for my trip.

 

A few weeks later, I was ready to drive. I called him after a few minutes on the road. He wanted to meet at a bookstore right off the highway.  It wouldn’t add a minute to my trip.  I was losing excuses to avoid his toxic load at the last minute, like on-the-fence chasers like me do sometimes.  We talked for a few minutes then he said something that clinched it.  He wanted to talk to me the entire way until I was at the bookstore, when I was 30 minutes away he would head towards it to meet. 

 

We perved for 30 minutes, my cock out and dripping precum as I drove.  He wanted me inside a booth with a jock on ready to be pozzed.  My heart pounded and I edged my cock as he told me about his latest escapades fucking his raw load into college boys.

 

His favorite thing to do was fuck safe sex only bottoms. He bites the tip off of the condoms he uses, with his cock penetrating skin on skin while the ring and base of the condom remain  in place. He relishes in the times the bottoms reach back to make sure there is a condom, feeling the latex ring and relaxing their holes to receive his death seed thinking they are safe from harm. I oozed precum as he told me of the many safe-sex boys to find themselves drunk, questioning if he came in their ass after being slammed full of his cock and cum. He assured them it was just extra lube he had used so his cock wouldn’t hurt them, and reminding them they saw and felt the condom.

 

I was at the exit for the book store, so I telephoned him, saying I was pulling off the highway, and would be there shortly.  He replied saying he was five minutes from the book store.  We hung up as I parked.  I was shaking with excitement as I tucked my cock into my waistband and went inside the metal building where I paid the admission fee and entered the video area.  

 

The video booth area was cleaner than any I had seen before. They looked brand new. There weren’t any gloryholes, and unfortunately, I was alone.  I had asked him to be verbal so that others could know I was getting poz fucked.  Maybe next time.  I picked a booth and stripped my shirt and pants off, leaving me standing in a jock, athletic socks, and tennis shoes. He texted saying he was entering the store.

 

The cracked booth door pulled open, he stepped in and closed it behind him.  My dick was dripping precum all over the floor in a way it never had before.  I dropped to my knees and pulled out his cock.  It was about seven inches, decently thick, cut, with a big head.  I licked his precum before deep-throating and working his cock.  All the while complementing my skill at sucking his cock, he talked to me like the faggot slut I was, telling me I was going to submit to his toxic cock and get his AIDS strain

 

I stood up and turned my hole towards his direction.  I bent over and braced against the wall of the booth.  He plunged his cock into my ass rough.  His dirty talk was beautiful.  Nonstop poz domination, telling me how I would succumb to and get sick from his unmedicated toxic poz seed.  I ached for it and rocked my ass against him to take his cock deeper.

 

He ground my ass like this for what seemed like 15 or 20 minutes, roughly handling my neg jock body, slamming me against the wall, tightening his hand around my neck as he made me beg for AIDS.  He made me promise to stay off meds and pass it to college studs who will fall for my hot jock body, all while impaling me with his raw cock.

 

He was ramping up to blowing his load of cum, and it was all I could to do hold my load in and wait for him to climax.  I had been gripping my cock still the entire time, on the brink from the first penetration.  As he grunted with the release of the first rope of toxic cum into my gut I pulled down on my cock, putting pressure on the skin on the head and shot all over the booth wall.  His pace slowed and he continued to grind his cock in and out of my hole for another minute or so..

 

My post cum regret was quickly sinking in.  Fucking idiot fag slut, taking unmedicated poz seed on purpose.  This always happens.  But this time was the shortest yet.  I hurried out of the booth, but by the time I made it to my car I was hard.  A minute after driving away I found myself texting him, making plans for my next seeding.

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