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Bottom Celebrates His Conversion By Turning Top


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"I'm sorry to have to tell you this..."

Of course, the cute Counselor didn't have to tell me anything. A few weeks earlier at a Circuit Party I felt the heat of that LOAD. It was special. I wasn't so much a "Bug Chaser" as a "Bug Enabler." I love getting fucked by folks—black or white, young or old, gay or straight—WHOMEVER! And the big-dicked Puerto Rican who ravaged me with his Prince Albert was definitely worth enabling! He looked into my eyes, and I knew he was giving me a Fuck to Die For.

Back to the cute Counselor—he was 30ish, blonde, blue-eyed, very studious, with his glasses, suit and tie, about 5'6". He also had a Bubble Butt to die for.

"I hate to tell you this, but something terrible has happened."

I nodded. Not a big surprise.

"If you need counseling..."

I licked my lips and stared at his swollen pecs. Thank God he hadn't worn a Tee. His meaty titties clung to his cotton shirt.

"Don't worry, all my friends are POZ. Isn't that the in-thing now?"

"Mr. Johnson...this is serious...."

"I know it is.” Contemptuously: “I don't have to worry about safe sex now. I think I'll head home and toss out all my Condoms." He shook his head in disbelief, appearing at a loss for words.

My friends reacted diversely—some pleased, some melancholy. Pleased—because now they got to tag me raw. Melancholy—because they'd seduced me into barebacking, and now I had to pay the Piper.

So Friday night I invited them over for a "Conversion Celebration." It started at my place and ended at the Baths, where, to my delight, I found the guy who'd POZZED me—cruising.

Initially I didn't tell Armando he was the one; I thought I'd save that for another night when we could be more intimate. And never one to hold a grudge (on the contrary I was in awe of his virility) I asked him to join our merry pack.

Armando turned out to be a trip. I watched as he seduced a college jock. He stroked the athlete's abs, licked his tits, and whispered sweet Puerto Rican nothings in his ear. Since all of us were sex-obsessed, the Fuck quickly turned into a Gangbang. The Bottom hadn't yet cum my way, when I spied a hunk I absolutely had to have.

That flawless Ass! The Short Blonde Sweetness dropped his towel and minced into the Steam Room. I knew in my heart the Dude was mine to POZ. I used to be a Bottom Boy, but all that changed with HIV.

I sat down beside him, his delicate features obscured by billowy clouds of steam. We were alone, concealed behind a thick glass door and foggy atmosphere. I teased his Cock then flipped him over on his belly and slid my oozing Member up his Crack.

"I have a Condom," the nervous Sweetness chirped, the tremor in his voice betraying his anxiety.

I snickered and shoved it in—no Lube but for the heavy moisture-laden air. I wanted Blondie cognizant of my Sick Seed assailing his Ass Walls. I wanted him to weep the tears that dance so seductively upon the cheeks of those just bred.

He hollered at me to get off; but we were alone, ringing wet, in the super-heated atmosphere, which muffled his tirade. He made like he was gonna fight me off, while I licked his ears and bit his neck. His soft four inches mushroomed to a turgid Seven, despite his hollow protestations.

He pushed back on my Viral Stick, moaning, whimpering, ashamed of his hypocrisy—of so blatantly violating the principles by which he earned his livelihood. He had it cuming. He needed guys like me to stay in business.

I plowed his Ass as roughly as I could, in hope of bettering the odds; and when I shot, it was the most fulfilling sensation I'd ever known—to foredoom this truly deserving Fag to an eternity of doctors, tests, and pills.

The heavy glass door scraped and groaned as Armando magically appeared. We mouthed a long, deep lingering kiss and I spread my demoralized Victim 's lily-white Ass Cheeks in gratitude. Sweetness just shivered, squirmed and purred as Armando’s Prince Albert abraded his Mancunt.

The Puerto Rican pulled out long enough for me to flip him over. Our eyes locked, and the Bottom winced as if confronting his worst enemy.

"Mr. Counselor! " I admonished the social worker, as Armando redoubled his detrition. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but all my friends are POZ."

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