Chasing The Bug 2.0

[whthole4u]

Chasing the Bug 2.0 – My Cuckold Boyfriend and Caribbean Salvation

Part 1  - Bahamian Fuck in the Boathouse and Part 2 – Raw AIDs Dick in St Thomas

Let me start by telling you about Richard, my ex-partner (he liked ‘husband’ because he was the top, but whatever), who is white, in his early 40’s, handsome, Ivy League educated, and works for one of the most prestigious lobbyomg firms in Washington, DC. So, basically he was a tight ass, but I loved him, or did once, guess in the later years it became ‘care for with a dash of tolerance and two dashes of get the fuck off me.’

 

I met Richard on a phone chat line about 12 years ago. I was still working through my attraction to men, and at the time, Richard was my dream. He was successful, powerful, handsome, and on our first date he showed me his rare and priceless antique maps. I know, sounds corny, but I saw passion in his eyes and heard it in his voice when he spoke about those fucking maps – and after several dates and a few fucks after spending the evening in the hot tub – he looked at me with the same passion and spoke with the same intensity to me, and about me, so I was hooked.

 

When we met, Richard and I were on pretty much the same page sexually. He was a good 10 years older than me, but we were very compatible. However, over the years I started to get bored. Sex with Richard was like a Georgetown housewife’s scripted recipe – kiss for 5 minutes, very little tongue, suck him for about 2 minutes (with condom on) while he rubbed my head, then me laying face down while he put on a new condom and fucked me for about 2 more minutes.

 

Over and over and over this was our sex life and frankly I was bored as fuck. I tried suggesting ways to spice things up, but Richard would have none of it, until he came upon what he said was the perfect solution – he would watch me get fucked by some other guy while he watched because he enjoyed being a ‘cuckold’ husband. Basically a cuckold is someone who’s wife is unfaithful and they have no power and are forced to submit, watch, are powerless, or whatever. I guess being a high-powered lobbyist all day he wanted someone else in control, so I agreed, and about once a month he would set us up with a top who would come to our house, fuck me, and Richard would sit in the fucking Queen Anne winged back chair in the bedroom jacking his dick.

 

One would think this would be interesting or even fun – NOT! Every single guy Richard set us up with was like him – about the same age, white, dick not too big or not too small (Richard was about 8 inches, average thickness), missionary fuck, and they always wore a condom. Richard and I got tested for HIV and everything else a few times a year and no matter how much I made the argument that I wanted to try having him inside me raw or at least suck him without a condom, it was always, “No, that is too dangerous.” So I was left with two conclusions – either he was a total fucking sleaze ball fucking tons of ass on the side or, since was such a tight ass, the more likely option was he was an uptight asshole who would always keep those barriers between us. So much for intimacy.

 

No matter how much I wanted to make him understand, I could never tell him that feeling his raw cock slide into me and taking his cum was, for me, the ultimate intimacy I could imagine!!! I loved him, and his refusal was a rejection of that love – and of me – and so, overtime, I fantasized more and more about being fucked raw. Not just raw, I wanted us to be linked and so there was no excuse, every time we got tested I prayed and wished that by some miracle we both were POZ. If we were, we would not need a condom, we could be together, I could feel him deep in me breeding me with his cum.

 

About two years ago I was laid off from my job with a business management firm. The recession had hit us hard, government spending was done and in DC that is the milk that flows from the Mother tit, so I became a true ‘housewife’, spending my days making it a happy home for Richard. Yet, no matter what I did, Richard’s idea of sex never changed, and so, I found other outlets. I first came across Machofucker.com about a month after I was laid off. Holy fuck! I had never seen anything like that. Richard thought porn was ‘dirty’ – meaning low class – so we did not own any. I was hooked. Not only did these guys fuck with abandon and enjoyment, and loudly – they fucked raw and you could see their cum!!! Oh my God I could not believe it. Thankfully they had free previews, which I downloaded to a DVD that I hid in the basement under a box of old paint cans, so I could dig it out and watch it when Richard was not home and he would be none the wiser.

 

Well, one day I forgot to remove the DVD from the computer after I had jacked off about four times and uploaded their newest free preview. When Richard came home and logged on to watch BBC News online, the DVD spun up and on the screen came this big black dick fucking a white ass raw, and rough. Richard was aghast, said he was disgusted and wanted to puke, I tried to apologize but my dick was hard and tenting my pants, so he was even more ‘disappointed’ and said he did not know who I was anymore. I asked him again – no I begged – can we please just try something like that? Richard swore, which was extreme for him, got into his Mercedes, and left the house.

 

I hid my DVD, Richard came home later like nothing had happened, and so every day I fantasized more and more about how to get out of this sex hell hole I was in. I became more and more depressed – no job, no sex that I liked, Richard not caring about my needs, I just wanted out, and began trolling websites more and more. As I explored my bareback/raw fucking fantasies I came across a couple blogs of guys who were POZ and who talked about not only fucking raw, but of chasing the bug, stealth pozzing other guys, sharing their virus and more. I could not believe it. I was sort of disgusted at first, but the more I read, the more I realized how free, how connected, how much these guys were living life how they wanted when I was doing the exact opposite.

 

I now knew what I wanted – I wanted a man to POZ me – I wanted to chase the bug – and get it – then I would be free. I became obsessed and so wanted to try some of the things I read about like going to a bookstore, or bathhouse, but I was afraid. Afraid of Richard finding out, afraid of what would happen if I did catch the bug, afraid of seeing someone I recognized or knew, and more.

 

Richard knew I was not happy, so he actually surprised me one day by coming home with a big envelope, which when I opened it, had two airline tickets to Orlando and an itinerary for a 7-day cruise to the Caribbean out of Port Canaveral. I had never been on a cruise, frankly Richard never took vacations so the best I got was a weekend in Atlantic City once every two years, which would end up a disaster as Richard always lost all his money and he would be depressed for days afterwards.

 

I was excited, at least I would get out of the fucking house and who knows, may have fun, even with Richard. More importantly, I saw this as my chance – my chance to explore what I needed – my need to get POZZED – my need to be converted – my need to chase the bug. Somehow thinking about doing this away from DC made it easier, and made it more OK.

 

As the weeks flew by before the cruise, I visited a number of chat sites where people talked about bareback sex. I was too nervous to really speak to anyone, but did exchange emails with a few guys, including one guy on St. Thomas, one of the Caribbean islands where our cruise ship would stop. This guy’s name was James, he was about Richard’s age, had grown up in Miami, but his family was from St. Thomas and after he finished college he had gone back to St. Thomas, began a few businesses, and seemed like a nice guy. He was very friendly, our chats were never sexually explicit, and I never felt like I was cheating on Richard. He told me to keep in touch and that if it looked like I might have time, to email him from the ship and he would give me an address of this little bar he owned where we could meet up when in St. Thomas. I assumed he was into bareback sex from the site he was on – bareback.com – and he was a top, black, well hung, drank, smoked, and all the other things Richard was not. I jerked off so many times fantasizing about ‘James’ – even though I had not even seen a face picture – just only knew him from his short profile and our emails.

 

It was finally time to go on the cruise and I could not wait. I was so tired of Richard and his controlling ways, I just wanted to relax and get out of the house. I was also tired of feeling worthless. I still had not been able to find a job and hated feeling indebted to him. What sort of partner was I?

 

We caught our flight to Orlando, spent a day at Sea World, took a car to Port Canaveral/Cocoa Beach, spent a day there, and then boarded the cruise ship on a Sunday morning. The ship was huge – over three football fields long, and was a wonder. There were pools, restaurants, shopping, live shows, and more. A few guys flirted with me, including our stateroom attendant, but Richard was always by my side, so what little action I had was a quick jack off when I excused myself from the dinner table.

 

Richard got seasick, so we had no sex at all, which I did not miss frankly. Having him on top of me was becoming something I dreaded – and hated.

 

Tuesday morning, the ship anchored just offshore of a small island in the Bahamas. The island was owned by the cruise line but was packed with little shops, nice beaches, and lots of activities. One of those activities was parasailing. I had never been parasailing and begged and begged and begged Richard to go with me. Of course I imagined it would be like America’s Funniest Home Videos where you see someone being dragged down the beach and hitting the water face first while their swim trunks come off – but we could see them as the small boats took us from the ship to shore. They were launching off the back of small motorboats and it looked like so much fun!

 

Once we landed on the island I ‘wandered’ over to where the map said the parasailing booth was. Richard followed, relented, and soon we were in a boat with six other cruisers. As we sped off and got settled I looked closer at the guys running the boat. There were three of them, all handsome, black, and I could not keep my eyes off one guy in particular who was sitting on the edge of the back of the boat with his legs spread and a huge bulge in his pants. He had on an orange t-shirt, khaki shorts, white sneakers, and reflective sunglasses, so I could not see where he was looking, but his dick was due south, moist, and formed a tasty looking outline.

 

Richard noticed my focused gaze and said, “So what? You into black men now is that it? Jesus Christ, I bring you on an amazing vacation and all you can do is ogle the local working class?” I told Richard to lower his voice and said, “Yes, actually, I was looking, and thinking of you actually. Knowing how much you enjoy being a cuckold for another, who better to be powerless against than a big black man in a foreign country? What could you do? Nothing! You would be helpless, he is like nothing we have ever seen, right?”

 

Richard’s mouth worked silently, almost like he was chewing on his words – or cow with cud – before he spoke. “Yes, true, I don’t know, but he is black!” “Yes Richard,” I said trying not to let my exasperation show, “But we are not home, no one will ever know will they. Just think, this is a chance of a life time and no one will ever know.”

 

Richard did not say anything more, so I returned to watching the three guys running the boat hook people up, ease out the parasailing lines, and waited our turn. When it was our turn the guy I had been watching helped me first into my harness. I swear he rubbed my ass and poked his finger towards my hole when he did, and I actually moaned a little, or it was just wishful thinking and the hot sun. Richard did not notice but I hoped the guy did. Parasailing was amazing!!! We lifted off the boat in one smooth motion and lifted to about 400 feet. Wow!! Too soon our time aloft ended, we watched the rest of the cruisers do their turn and we headed back to shore.

 

Once we docked, we got off the boat and Richard said he forgot to tip the guys, so I walked up to the shed where we had signed up. I was not paying attention, but a few minutes later Richard tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Come on,” and I turned to follow. When I did I noticed the guy from the boat that I had been watching. He was in front of us and Richard was following him. What was going on? We walked along the edge of the island to a large boathouse about 100 feet away. It was dark, and about 110 degrees inside. The guy closed the door behind us and led us towards the back where he and Richard stopped near a pile of parasails that were stacked like hay bails.

 

“Man, what’s up?” the parasail guy asked. Richard said, “Like I told you, I have money, I want you to have sex with my husband here and I want to watch.” The guy laughed, “Yeah you said that, OK, $500.” I stood there in amazement thinking there was no way this was happening. Richard would never!

 

Richard pulled out his wallet, counted out $500, handed it to the guy, and then pushed me towards him. I was still a bit dazed figuring out what was going on, but the Bahamian guy was not. He took the money, tucked it in his pocket, pulled his shorts down and off over his sneakers, and started undoing my shorts.

 

Fuck yeah! I went with it, dropped my backpack, took my baseball cap off, and knelt in front of him to suck on his dick. His dick was over 9 inches, milk chocolate black, and hairy like crazy. Huge growth of hair from his balls, down his dick shaft, so unlike what I was used to as Richard kept himself clipped. I sucked his dick down anyways, which tasted of sweat and funk. Amazing! I sucked him for a while, he then helped me stand up, scooted me over to the pile of folded up parasails, and bent me over and spit on his dick and rubbed the spit up and down his hairy shaft with his hand.

 

“Umm, excuse me, please, excuse me,” I heard Richard say, ”Um yes, stop right there please, um, do you have condoms?” The Bahamian guy laughed a little, said “Oh yes, of course,” he said, “My bag is up there by the front door, to the left on the bench, Nike bag, do you mind grabbing them for us?” Richard nodded and turned and walked away. The Bahamian guy bent over me and whispered, “Do YOU want me to wear a condom? I don’t like them.”

 

“Um, I, shit – no, I don’t, I want you to just fuck me,” I said. This was my chance and Richard be damned. The Bahamian guy laughed, spit on his dick a few times, bent me back over, and worked his dick slowly into my hole. The sweat running down my back, mixed with his spit, made my hole nice and moist.

 

I was being fucked RAW!!! It hurt like hell as he fucked me and I went forward into the parasails, but it felt unbelievable. This was how sex was supposed to be, skin to skin and raw.

 

I heard Richard exclaim, “Stop that!” as his voice pitched high like a woman. The Bahamian guy laughed again and said, “Shut up man – he wants it – don’t you? Don’t you?” I whimpered and said, “Yes,” in barely a whisper, but that was all he needed to hear. He fucked me raw, rough, and hard and in the midst of my ecstasy I could hear Richard off to the side whimpering as well – but it was the whimper of a cuckold who had met his match and was in over his head.

 

My ass was hurting so bad, but I found that jacking my dick helped ease the pain. I had never had to do that with Richard, so my body was flooded with new and exciting sensations and my mind was screaming FUCK ME RAW – FUCK ME RAW – POZ ME POZ ME. I did not know if he had HIV or AIDs, but I was hoping and what guys fuck raw when they don’t?

 

I was soon rewarded with a hot thick load of Bahamian cum. The guy grabbed my shoulders, tensed, and slammed me deeper as he shot. I thought I could feel it, but had never had that sensation before so was not sure, but his yelling, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” convinced me.

 

When he was done he pulled out of my ass, pulled on his shorts and left the boat shed sort of chuckling. Richard was sitting on a crate looking dazed. I pulled up my shorts and said, “Come on, let’s go,” and we walked out. Richard was quiet, too quiet, and after an hour at the beach and a light lunch he said, “I want to go back to the ship.” I asked to stop in the bathroom first and when I did I let out the Bahamian cum into the cup of my hand. I could not believe I had another man’s cum – tinged with my blood – in my hand. It was thick, white with red, and before I knew it I tipped my hand and slurped the load and juices like the finest raw oyster. It was like nectar from the gods.

 

Back on the ship Richard did not say two words to me. He sulked, pouted, and acted like a fucking child. Even at the formal dinner he just focused on his food and not me. Fine, whatever. As we got ready for bed, Richard finally asked, “How could you? How could you let him?” “How could I let him what?” I asked.

 

“Have sex with you like that? That is just just just WRONG. It was not right – it was dirty and wrong and I did not want him to do that!” Richard said sounding like a hysterical woman again. “Well,” I said, and feeling a little courageous thanks to all the wine from dinner, “That was called fucking! That’s what men do! Real men – not cuckold pussies like you so you would know nothing about it. Good NIGHT!” With that I grabbed a blanket and lay on the floor and went to sleep.

 

PART 2 – RAW POZ DICK IN ST THOMAS

“That was disgusting!” Richard’s words kept echoing in my mind over and over after he had watched me get fucked raw by the guy in the Bahamas. Not for me it wasn’t. Being barebacked in that boathouse was the hottest sex I had ever had and then tasting the cum that came out of my ass – damn! Made me hard every time I thought about it. The next day was a day-at-sea as we traveled to St. Thomas. I was so angry with Richard, I went to the internet café on the 8^th deck, signed onto bareback.com, and emailed James to tell him I wanted to come see him in St Thomas. James was online as he replied instantly and asked me what I wanted in St. Thomas and I typed, “Right now, more than anything, I want to be taken away, away from Richard and from this whole fucked up life.” I then told him what happened in the Bahamas and since he was on a bareback site asked what he thought.

 

James replied, “You were blessed to have a man share himself with you in that way. Very blessed. Did you enjoy it? Did you want it? Do you want it again? Was that your first time taking it raw? You POZ?”

 

When I answered yes to all of the above, and negative, James said, “That is all I need to know. Here is the address to my place. I think you NEED to come see me. When you leave the ship, go see the SkyRide tram. When you are done, there is a place to catch the taxi’s right there, ask for Andre, he knows me, he will take care of you, and you cannot miss him, he always wears a t-shirt with his name on it ‘Andre’s Taxi.’ I’ll tell him to expect you about 10:00.”

 

The rest of the day I kept repeating James’ email over and over in my head and did my best to avoid Richard. By dinner, he felt like talking and apologizing, but for me it was too little too late. I read up on the excursions available in St. Thomas for tomorrow, left a list on the bed for Richard, and went to sleep on the floor again.

 

The next day we docked in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands, early and by 9:00 a.m. the gangway was down and everyone was disembarking the ship to see the sights. The first item on our list was the little SkyRide tram that went up to the top of the hill and was within walking distance from the ship. Richard and I still were not speaking much, but the SkyRide was pretty cool and the view was amazing. When we came down I walked into the parking lot near the ticket booth where there were several rundown taxi-buses, all of the open side variety seen in the Caribbean.

 

I approached a driver who was about 30, had long dreadlocks, a green t-shirt, bare feet, jeans, beard, and a nice smile. “Andre? Yes, I could tell from your shirt, I…Um…Do you know where this place is?” I asked. Richard was still looking at postcards by the ticket counter. The driver smiled at me, nodded at Richard, “So, you goin here for him?” he asked. “No,” I said, “For me – I hope.”

 

Andre laughed a hearty laugh and said, “Oh yes, yes, for you, very good, very good, Jimmy’s will love you and you will love Jimmy’s and James told me I may have a special pick up this morning, so I see, hmmm. I can get you there – 171 Altona is not far and good price – say $20?” I agreed and when Richard joined us and I told him we were going to go to a local place to grab a drink. He looked at me in his typical condescending manner, preparing to lecture me that it was pretty early to start drinking, but I was in no mood to hear him this morning, and walked away, following Andre. Richard could stay or go. I didn’t care.

 

We hopped in Andre’s taxi-bus, and with the opened sides, you had to hang on so you did not feel like you would fall out. They drive on the left ‘wrong side’ of the street in St. Thomas, which I found very disconcerting. Richard did not say a word until we pulled up in front of 171 Altona, a long row of two and three story tan, plastered buildings that looked like warehouses. You could see a set of wooden stairs, covered mostly with vines, clinging to the backside leading up to the second floor with a couple doors for what looked like offices or apartments. The driver pulled around the block and turned into the parking lot in front. There were several trucks backed up to loading docks on one side, a couple guys unloading crates, and two old, beat up cars. Andre parked and pointed to a door in the corner that had JIMMYS painted in gold letters on it.

 

“Here ya are now, enjoy and I am sure I will see you again. Here is my card – call me when you need a ride,” and then the taxi left. Richard was full of questions, “What is this place? What are we doing here?”

 

I told him I had read about it online, everyone said Jimmys was the place to go to get local flavor and to find the best Cruzan Rum drinks. We stepped through the door, walked down a hallway that had doors leading into what looked like storage rooms or loading docks, and then stepped into a fairly large room that had several tables of various sizes and shapes, thick smoke (pot, cigarettes, and more), a small bar over in the corner, and two big guys sitting on each side of the door in tiny little gray folding chairs that sagged under their weight. They both stood up as we entered and barred our way.

 

After my eyes adjusted I could see almost all the tables had one or more people at them even though it was not even 10:30 a.m., and as I looked at them, they looked at me. I saw a few smiles, a few blank stares, but nothing hateful. The place smelled of beer, liquor, and piss and sweat, and the ceiling fans did nothing to dissipate the heat or the smoke as they lazily spun. Richard grabbed my arm, but I pulled away, stepped to the big guy on the left of the door and said, “Hi, umm… is James here?”

 

He was well over 6”5, 250 for sure, and just looked down at me and did not say a word. I said again, “Is James here? He is um…. I told him I would…” Just then a gentleman’s voice rose from a doorway behind the bar, “Boys, boys, let my friends in heh? What sort of host can I be if you stop everyone like a rat trying to steel cheese. Heh? Come now, come, hello, I am James and welcome to Jimmys.”

 

James’ picture online had just shown his chest – broad, firm, dark, with a nice matt of curly hair. He was a nice looking man I thought, not classically handsome I guess, but handsome to me. So masculine, dreads to his shoulders that were colored a dark tan and pulled back behind his head, a couple earrings in both ears, broad straight nose, a killer smile, a chin beard, and when he shook my hand my knees buckled and I felt week. He was taller than me, average build, and with his shirt unbuttoned the first few buttons so I could see some chest hair and wanted to just lick it! He had on shorts, was barefoot, and had huge feet! I immediately noticed the second toe was longer than the big toe – he had fucking big dawg feet!

 

“Welcome welcome. Now I see you made it from that wonderful ship, so please, sit, enjoy yourself, what can we get you?” Richard looked at me and asked, “Do you know this man?” I just ignored him, followed James to a table near the back, dropped my backpack, and took a seat. Low level conversation began again and as I looked around I noticed everyone was male, most were in their 30’s to 40’s I guess, with a couple guys who looked like early 20s or late teens.

 

James came back to the table with three large glasses filled with what he said were the best Cruzan Rum drinks on the island. I took a big sip – HOLY SHIT! That was strong. Richard took a small sip and gasped. I laughed out loud, took a big sip, and felt the rum warm me up, relax me, and make me smile. James laughed and said, “Good yeah?”

 

James sat down beside me on one side of the rectangular table, dropped a pack of cigarettes down, pulled out a lighter, lit up and took several big drags blowing the smoke towards Richard. Richard glared, but James ignored him and began to chat with us asking about where we were from, what brought us to St. Thomas, how we met, and more. I was afraid he would say something about us emailing online, but he didn’t, and just kept flashing that amazing smile and I loved his laugh. So friendly, warm, natural, and so unlike Richard who sounded like he was auditioning for a commercial. I sucked the first drink down pretty quickly and my head started to spin. James cautioned, “Easy man now, take it slow, these are not something for the weak of heart. Take your time. You are in no rush, no?”

 

He offered to bring us some food and disappeared into the back. He returned with some cold sandwiches of some kind of meat on white bread and chips. “We do not cook here, too hot, but we have a few sandwiches and little things.” James also brought another round of drinks.

 

I started to ask James questions about him and his place as Richard pushed his chair back against the wall, sulked, and drank his rum. James told me how he started Jimmy’s several years earlier. It was a way to use the back part of his warehouses, and to give him and his friends and their friends a quiet place to hang out and relax and have fun where no one cared, or would mind, especially their wives.

 

“Your what?” I asked. “Our wives,” James said and chuckled, “In St. Thomas we are all married, (and in a lower voice continued) but do not worry, that does not stop me for fucking a nice ass as much as I can.” James put his hand on my leg and squeezed, I looked at Richard who was lost in space and paying no attention. We continued to chat like that, with James’ hand resting on my thigh – not moving or pressing, just resting there and my dick got hard and I was starting to sweat from the heat, rum, and desire.

 

Richard got up, stumbled a little down the hall once he asked where the bathroom was, so James and I were left alone at the table. James squeezed my thigh, leaned in towards me and said in a low, seductive voice, “I think you need a good fuck – a real man fuck – a fuck from a true breeder. I think you have been focused on nothing but wanting to feel my dick in your negative ass nice and raw since you walked in here with him.” I just sat there staring into James’ face, his eyes were so intense, yet warm, his smile was the hottest smile I had ever seen, and fuck yeah, he was handsome. We both turned as Richard stepped out of the bathroom and began walking back down the hall towards us, as James finished by saying, “And I think I am going to breed and seed that ass deep with my Caribbean AIDS cum.”

 

I was blushing hard as Richard sat back down and my dick was really straining in my shorts now. I lifted my rum drink and took several big gulps to try to get my focus off what James had just told me.

 

James stood up, picked up his cigarettes, lit a fresh one, then turned to me and said, “I would like you to see my place, come with me, and we will let your friend here finish his rum.” Richard just looked up while he sipped his drink and then turned his head away as I followed James down the hall. I saw a couple bathrooms with no doors on them, a couple rooms with closed doors, one room where the door was open that looked like a storeroom and I could see a young guy bent over some boxes as one of the older guys was fucking him. I stopped, stared, and James said, “Jimmy’s is a place to have fun, like I said, as long as they do not break my bottles, or fight, and the boys stop any of that, I encourage them to have fun and be freaks if they want. Unlike the mainland, there are not many places in St. Thomas where guys like me can have fun without worrying about the cops or family or someone bothering us. Like me, almost every one of the guys here has AIDS – and more – and those that don’t, like YOU, soon will.”

 

I followed Jimmy through one of the warehouses as he explained what some of his other business was, through a small courtyard, and then up the wooden stairs we had seen earlier that ran to the walkway that extended down the backside of most of the second floor of the building. He opened the first door he came too and there was a desk, a wooden chair, a big fan, and a curtain of old tattered cloth that led into a small room with a bed. Jimmy turned around, grabbed me by shoulders and kissed me hard.

 

I was shocked, surprised, and totally gave in as his tongue forced its way into my mouth. I slumped against him as he pulled me to his chest and kept kissing me. My knees really were week now as James’ hands ran up and down my back and his hot breath and spit filled my mouth. “What do you want?” James asked.

 

“Uhh, I, Uhh, I should get back to Richard, ha, I ha, oh please.” I mumbled.

 

“Please what? Please stop? No, I don’t think so. You came looking for me. You came to St. Thomas thinking about me didn’t you? Yes, I can see it in your eyes and I can see you need what I can give you. Now taste what you have been waiting for.” James then sat on the edge of the creaking old bed, slid his shorts down and laid back. His dick sprang up – a good 10, 10 1/2 inches, thick, uncut with a long hood of foreskin, dark and juicy. I could only stare, as he was definitely bigger than the guy in the Bahamas. Beyond my furtive visits to websites, and the quick suck of the parasailing guy, I had not seen a black dick like this before. I knelt on the rough floorboards, leaned against the creaking bed, and slowly put my hand around James’ dick. He moaned, put his hands behind his head and asked with a knowing smirk, “Now what do you want?” I just mumbled, opened my mouth, and nibbled on his foreskin.

 

Fuck! The smell of his dick was the most amazing thing, and the taste was beyond description. His balls were large, heavy, and stuck slightly to each thigh. I weighed them between my fingers, licked them over with my tongue, catching the hair in my teeth, twisting it in my mouth, having his musk wash over me. I then licked his shaft, end-to-end, side-to-side, and when I rolled his foreskin back was rewarded with a thick coating of precum. I had never knowingly licked HIV infected cum before (don’t know about the guy in the Bahamas), I so wanted to taste him, but was afraid of what Richard would say. Feeling my hesitancy James gently put his hand on the back of my head and pushed my face toward his dick. The smell from his dick head made me spin and when I finally flicked my tongue out to taste his precum I lost my breath. Oh My God! That tasted so sweet, salty, sweaty, and like a man. I did not care if he was POZ and had AIDs. I knew I wanted his cum. I opened my mouth wide and began to suck him. He was a good bit bigger than Richard, so I had to find my way and through trial and error figured out how to work his dick deep into my throat. James liked it and I was moaning and begging with every swallow.

 

I was lost in what I was doing when James started to stand up. I leaned back, James stood, pulled me up, looked into my eyes, and asked, “What do you want?” I found myself saying what I had typed in my email from the ship, “Right now, more than anything, I want to be taken away, away from Richard and from my whole fucked up life.” “Is that all you want?” James asked as he took my hand and put it on his dick. “NO,” I SAID, “I WANT YOU, I WANT ALL OF YOU, I WANT ALL YOU’VE GOT, I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME, PLEASE WITH YOUR AIDS DICK!”

 

James smiled, “You will get it all then.” He then pushed me onto the bed, “Get on your hands and knees.” It was sort of hard as the old creaky bed had a big indentation in the center, so I was not really even, but it pushed my ass up. James then said, “Reach around, spread that hole.” So I put my face down into the bed, took both hands, reached around, and spread my cheeks apart. James’ chin beard began digging into my sides as his tongue worked into my hole. Richard never ate my ass and while part of me was disgusted, part of me loved it and I begged for more.

 

“Get on the floor,” James said. I was concerned about splinters because the floor was rough, unfinished, but he laid me on my back, tilted my hips up, scooted forward so my legs were held aloft by his arms, which he planted up by my shoulders. As he pressed forward and his face leaned down closer to mine, I could feel his dick working up my crack to my hole. James paused, looked me in the eyes and said, “I think this is the reason you came looking for me. For this moment, now tell me again, what do you need?” My breath caught in chest, my heart was racing, I tensed but I said, “I need you to fuck me, fuck me raw please. I want to be free.”

 

James leaned back, reached under the bed, grabbed a can of something, sprayed a dirty piece of cloth off the floor and pushed it into my mouth and said, “Inhale through your mouth, deep breaths, just like that, heh, OK, wait, little more, now do it again.”  Whatever was on the cloth mixed with the rum got my head good and spinning. I closed my eyes, opened them and saw James as he leaned back over me, lifted my legs back again, and then he smiled. The heat coming off of him was like a solar flare. My body relaxed and when I did he punched his dick into my ass. I grabbed his upper arms and dug my fingernails into him as I screamed as loud as I could and my whole body went board stiff. I couldn’t help it, and I screamed again and James just smiled, “It’s OK, its ok, let it out, I know it hurts, I know, but you need to let me in your ass. Relax, I know it hurts, but breathe and push, yes you can, push a little, that’s OK, scream again, no one can hear you so just let it out. Notice how my dick gets harder every time you scream? Makes me know you feel it. That’s it, let me in. I am going to breed you with my AIDs cum because I know that’s what you need.”

 

I clung to James’ biceps for dear life while he slowly worked his dick in and out of my ass. He pulled almost all the way out, then with steady pressure pushed it in as far as it would go. He did this for a while, shifted forward a bit for better leverage as I felt the boards of the floor scratching up my ass. The next time he shifted, he then slowly pulled his dick all the way out. Just as I relaxed James slammed his dick into my ass again. The scream this time was primal, one of pain, and need. In that moment when he had pulled out I felt relief, but also emptiness, not just physical, but an emptiness in my being, so when he slammed it back in there was joy in that scream too.

 

I was used to Richard who just fucked at a steady rhythm like a bad watch and cummed within a couple minutes. Not James. He would fuck slow, then pick up the pace, then fuck slow again, and soon his face and head and body was covered in hot beads of sweat from his fuck workout that dripped into my face. James smiled again and kept working my ass and leaned forward even more so he could kiss me. His tongue was long and hard, unlike Richard’s, which I always thought was sort of soft and squishy. He worked his tongue into every corner of my mouth while his hips and dick continued to beat my ass.

 

 

James pulled back a little and smiled again and I said, “Please, do that again.” He said in a soft whisper, “What? What do you need? What do you need again?” My whole body was on fire now and blurted out, “I WANT YOU TO PUNCH FUCK ME AGAIN, PLEASE, I NEED THAT, AND I NEED YOUR CUM, PLEASE YOU – ALL OF YOU – ALL OF YOU, I NEED YOUR AIDS CUM!!! PLEASE!!!” James smiled, focused on my eyes and watched my reaction as he pulled his dick all the way out in one swift move, let it twitch around the end of my now gaping hole, then slammed it back in to make me scream. “Yes, yes, please make me scream, please, make me scream.”

 

“Is that what you want?” James asked, “You want to scream? You want to bleed for me and open up?”

 

“Yes please, take my ass, take it, make it bleed for you,” I said eagerly.

 

James chuckled like an a villain in a movie, “You are already bleeding for me I can guarantee it – and that’s the way it should be. Just like fucking my wife on her period but her pussy has not been this tight ever! Now, I am going to breed you raw. Get ready, because I am going to let you have it ALL!”

 

I was a raw virgin no more as my BBC top returned to slam fucking my ass. I screamed, yelped, whimpered, and begged for more and soon moved my hands down onto his hips to pull him into me every time he shoved his hard dick deeper. He was now pulling out on almost every thrust and slamming back in, knocking the breath out of me each time.

 

“LET ME HEAR YOU NOW, LET ME HEAR YOUR SCREAM, THAT’S IT, GOT ME SO FUCKING HARD – OH FUCK YEAH – FUCK YEAH – TAKE ME – TAKE ME – TAKE MY AIDS!!! AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!” James gritted his teeth and shot his cum up my ass, thrust after thrust, pushing it deeper. As his thrusts relaxed, James kissed me hard and long again, pulled away a little, wiped my forehead with his right hand, looked in my eyes and said, “That was my first load of AIDs cum in your sweet hole, but it won’t be the last.”

 

“Thank you James, you’re right, that’s what I wanted and is what I need.” I just closed my eyes and embraced the sweat, cum, and searing pain James left me. James got up and laughed as he said, “Damn, those boards are hard on the knees.”

 

I got up and when I did noticed a blood/ass juice stain about the size of an orange on the wood floor where I had just been. I opened my mouth to say, not sure what, when James smiled and said, “Don’t worry about that. Given what I just did I am surprised there is not more, but you know what that means?” He pulled me close and said, “That blood there is proof, proof I have given you what you wanted and need, and proof that your ass is now infected with my AIDs ! We will leave that there as a reminder.”

 

We got dressed and I asked James for a towel or something for my ass to wipe the cum and blood off. “No, your ‘man’ needs to learn,” James said with disdain in his voice. I was not sure what he meant, but would soon see.

 

I followed James down the stairs, back through the warehouse and to the bar. When we got there the table where we left Richard was empty. I sat down and there were only a few guys left and they all looked my way. James went over to the door, spoke to the two big guys who had stopped us when we walked in, they looked at me, at him, the one on the right got up and slid the bolt on the door and sat back down. James came back and said, “Looks like he could not hold his liquor. They said he had a couple more drinks, and has been in the bathroom a while. Stand up, let me see how you are.”

 

I stood up, James ran his hands up and down my legs, “You got some ass juice and blood running down your leg.” I started to apologize but he interrupted me and said, “Since you are all lubed up, I think we need to give you some more of what you need. Boys! Come over here.”

 

I watched as the two big guys who were standing by the door came over. James said, “Look boys, I just opened him up nice and good, but he needs something more, so what do you say? Up for taking a test spin?” The three of them laughed and before they finished they were both undoing their pants. I was nervous as there were still people at some of the other tables, but as James cleared the glasses off the table one of the big guys bent me over, pulled my shorts down, and rammed his dick in me. I screamed out, James laughed and said, “That’s it boys, you know you got it right when he screams, now keep it up. I want to hear those screams loud!!!”

 

The other big guy walked in front of me and put his dick in my mouth as I lay over the table being pummeled from the back. They were not quite as big as James, but big and thick, so I felt like I was the turkey at Thanksgiving.

 

I wasn’t screaming anymore, just almost humming as I sucked one cock and milked the other with my ass. I then heard a shrieking voice, “What are you doing? Get off him! Get OFF! STOP THAT!!!!!” It was Richard. Oh damn. I tried to push up off the table, but the guy fucking me held me down, while the guy I was sucking pulled his dick out and walked to my left and behind me. Richard’s voice was more insistent and shrill. “GET OFF! STOP! GET OFF! GET….”

 

James spoke up, “Look, I think it is time for you to leave. Yes, leave, we’re closing see. Private event and all. BOYS!” With that the guy fucking me pulled out fast, made me gasp, and when I turned around I saw Richard, wide-eyed, spit drooling from one side of his mouth, being held by the guy I had been sucking. He looked at me with disgust, hatred, confusion, fear, and no love – no love at all.

 

“You see, we did as you asked, and we stopped, but I don’t think that’s what he wants, is it? What do you think? Shall we ask him?” James said, the disdain for Richards pathetic being dripped in his voice thick and heavy.

 

Richard just shook his head as he looked at me with disgust. I turned around, laid back over the table with my bloody ass facing his way, as James laughed louder and heartier than I had heard him yet. As the boys began to escort Richard to the door, James came up behind me, pulled his dick out and slammed me again. At that angle and already being lubed up, he went balls deep. The last sounds Richard heard as they locked the door behind him was me screaming and begging James to fuck me raw, fuck me harder, and breed me again with his AIDs.

 

That day began my life at Jimmy’s. I didn’t make it back to the ship and have not seen Richard since. I sleep to the rhythm of St. Thomas’ nights and I spend my days helping James out with his businesses, servicing his dick when and how he wants it, and making sure the guys at Jimmy’s always have a good time. Jimmy’s is a bug chaser’s paradise full of horned up men who like it raw, bloody, and AIDs filled, and when they are done with me and the other guys they go home to their happy wives. The warehouse has provided lots of stories and great places to fuck, store rooms, in the trucks, in the garage, and I even won a bet with Jimmy who said I could not get one of his ‘straight’ mechanics to fuck me. I even saw Andre the taxi-bus driver who dropped Richard and I off that first day, who was not surprised to see me there when he stopped a few days later and had to test out my ass for himself. All stories for another time.

 

It has been over a year since I last saw Richard. He has tried calling and emailing James has said, but that was another lifetime ago, a life of being negative and chained – now I am POZ, free, and full of Caribbean AIDs-filled cum.

[TTFN]

No one on this earth can fuck like a Big Black Man.

And no one can tell a story of it like whthole4u.

[Guest yelrom]

Wonderful story

[mike43]

I need to visit this bar

[Guest bbbearlover1]

Nicely done, as usual

[bareall77]

Very hot story. Love being freed linked to his meeting James and getting his AIDS cum and also a new life away from the one he wanted to escape.

[averageslut48]

I need to travel to this place as soon as possible.