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A Rest Stop Fuck with Long Term Results


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In all my escapades I've practiced Safe Sex. I was always the one to bring the Poppers, Lube and CONDOMS. I'm versatile and enjoy playing both roles.

On the Interstate is a Rest stop with two stalls connected by a Glory Hole so humungous you can rest your Butt against it and get serviced without a Queer entering your stall. It's safer that way. Nothing sadder than two Faggots getting hauled off by a Cop.

One Saturday afternoon I was sitting in the stall waiting for anything in pants to appear. It seemed like an eternity before anyone came in. I was in the mood to get fucked—and had vowed not to go home till I got my deserts.

The first guy was OK. He pissed, stroked his ManMeat, shoved It though the Glory Hole; and my Lips hungrily devoured his Tool. He groaned loudly as I nibbled his Balls. I passed him a Rubber and asked him to fuck me. I was already lubed up; and after a final sniff of my Poppers, backed onto his Dick. It took all of 5 minutes for him to blow, and he zipped up and left without removing the Condom. Hummmmmm, I mused. I’d have to try that one myself.

I was still basking in the glory of my Conquest when another Dude took his place. This one was younger, thirtyish, and had a really nice Dick. I wondered how much convincing he'd take to fuck me. I puckered my lips, and had his long Tool down my throat in a flash. He pulled out and asked me to stick my Pole through the Hole. I slipped him a Condom instead. He unraveled it, and I backed up on his Shaft. He was fully inside me when—Shit!—a stranger came in.

He withdrew and we both sat down waiting for the Intruder to leave. When we were finally alone, we resumed our love-making. But it felt different—hotter somehow. I reached back to make sure was wearing a Rubber. What I grabbed was bare Dick. Before I could react, he filled me with Spunk—three distinct shots up my Ass. Immediately I pulled off his Cock, and a few more blasts singed my Cheeks. Already his Jism was dripping out of my Pussy. I was shocked that he could have done such a thing—and exposed me to God-Knows-What STDs.

Before I could ask him his Status, he bolted from the stall. From outside he bellowed, “WELCOME TO THE CLUB!" And he left.

I tried to shit the rest of his Jism, then flushed the toilet. I soaked bathroom tissue in the fresh water entering the bowl and wiped my Hole. I wet my fingers and shoved them up my Ass to cleanse my Pussy of any leftover Spunk.

Satisfied that I had cleaned up as best I could, I sat on the toilet, lamenting the nerve of some guys, when a third Dude came in. I heard him sniffling and clearing his throat, caught a glimpse of his Cock peeking out of his shorts, already a few drops of PreCum on the Slit. But I’d long since gone soft, my desire diminished; so I zipped up and left.

I was on the road the next 3 weeks, crisscrossing the country, traveling for work, flying or driving or at some business address. At night in my hotel room, I'd speculate about the dirty Bastard who’d Cum inside me—and what exactly he meant by “Welcome to the Club.”

Eventually I forgot the whole ordeal, as my natural promiscuity and sexual bent came to the fore; and I pursued the alluring delights of fucking and sucking. Of course, I made sure my partners were “properly dressed,” i.e., wore Condoms. Finally I returned to Reststop, but was nervous as hell.

I wished I’d taken Viagra when a dude pressed his Ass to the Hole. His Cunt was all shiny with Lube. I ran my fingers over his Butt and inserted two fingers up his Pussy. They sailed in like a dream, and I began to imagine what my Cock would feel like in their stead. An erection was no longer my problem. I felt the partition flex slightly as he endeavored to dig his Ass further onto my digits.

"Fuck me!”

I ran the tip of my knob over his silky wet Pussy. He groaned when my Cock passed over his Hole. I unrolled a Condom, took a hit of my Poppers, and passed my sheathed Dick through the aperture.

He slowly backed onto my Manshaft. He was fucking himself and milking me good. His hot, slimy, wet Pussy made the ManJuice boil up my Shaft. I plowed his Mancunt for all I was worth and before long filled the Condom with Cream.

To my horror, the Condom had split. Goddamn It! That was all I needed. In disgust I ripped off the torn Rubber and flushed it down the toilet. I was about to apologize, when the Dude roared “Thanks for the Seed!” I was aghast. It was the same voice that had ”Welcomed me to the Club.”

I was shocked that I could have been so naïve. I’d had no reason to suspect he was the same Fucker who’d Cum up my Ass. I was about to pursue him, when something in his stall caught my eye—a tube of Vaseline. Of course! That stuff would rot a Condom in no time. I picked it up, as a souvenir so to speak, and drove home.

In less than a week, when I took a leak, it hurt like Hell. I went to the Clinic. After a few questions, I was told to lie down on the table and lower my jeans. Nonchalantly I lay back with my hands behind my head and let the Doc do his thing. He stuck a thin cotton swab down my Piss Slit. I yelped and jerked up my knees, narrowly missing his head.

The swab was all green and sticky. He told me I had an infection. He placed it on a glass slide and said he needed a urine sample. It took me a good 20 minutes to piss painfully into the specimen cup.

The Nurse gave me a shot of antibiotics and told me to return to the waiting room. A good hour passed before they called me again and direly announced I had “the Clap.” Treatment would be painless and easy—a few weeks on antibiotics.

"Would you like an HIV test? We can have the results in an hour."

Why not? I was taken to see a Counselor. Thirty minutes later a Nurse appeared with a syringe.

The next hour was the longest of my life. Finally I was ushered back to the Exam Room. The Doctor was present along with the Nurse and the Counselor. The grim look on the their faces told all. I was numb. I was not only numb—I was POZ.After listening to the various treatment options, I went home. I took a vacation to try to get my life back on track.

In less than a year I was back to my old tricks. Only it was I who fucked Bareback and took raw Cock up my Ass. What the hell! I had nothing to lose. I’d met a ton of POZ guys on the Net who led active and sometimes surreptitious sex lives—Chasers who always took Loads, and Givers who never pulled out. I had indeed embraced the clandestine “Club.”

I went back at the Rest stop, hoping to meat the guy who had POZZED me. On my fifth trip I was sure it was him. He again fucked me Bareback; but before he could Cum, I turned round and put my Cock through the Hole. He slipped back on my Shaft. Within seconds, I unloaded in him. He was still riding my Rod when I proclaimed, "Thanks for the Invite."

He shouted back, "You're Welcome, I’m sure!" And shot his POZ Load while my Cock was still in him. That time he didn't rush off, but waited for me outside. He was a Hunk, tall, 6'3", built; the last person on earth you'd suspect to be POZ .

After an invitation to his house we began to see each other on a regular basis. We started to date, and eventually he moved in with me. He apologized for POZZING me—averring that along with the inconvenience of repetitive testing and expense of the Meds, came the privilege of unbounded sexual license. The funny thing was that he’d been POZZED the exact same way I was. He was just doing to me what had been done unto him. What Goes Around, Cums Around, as they say.

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  • 9 years later...
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6 hours ago, montyd said:

Hot story or true? Either way turned me on

When you see a story by HotLoad84 or rawTOP from the fall of 2010, they are almost always "rescued" stories. This forum was started in the time when some of the older,original Bareback/Poz Fetish sites were all shutting down. During the first months of this site, they made an effort to copy over a bunch of stories from the older sites, so they wouldn't be lost for good. I think this is from the old Bugshare site. 

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