Patient Zero - My Brother’s Keeper

[whthole4u]

The latest strain of JP’s virus shot out of his piss slit like a SPACE X rocket and quickly went to work colonizing itself in the lining of my ass and guts. I sighed in satisfaction, feeling the fullness of his dick, the warmth of his cum, the rough scraping of his fingernails down my sides as he shivered in orgasmic release.

 

We were resting in post-fuck bliss when our smart watches started to beep and flash - another fucking lockdown. All week the base had gone through a series of ever tightening security measures since the media broke the news. How did they know that the story the government had successfully sold to the American people for the past 30 years was not true? That Patient Zero - the man to blame for the AIDs epidemic in the United States was not a Canadian flight attendant? That the real track of the virus was from Zaire, to Haiti, to New York City in the late 1960s and early 1970s? I shivered in fear as I thought about what might come next: that Jean Pierre  might be named - that we might be separated - that the world would find out about Project Unicorn and that Patient Zero was my brother, my lover, my husband.

 

I chuckled and shook my head and wiped the sweat from my face as JP (Jean Pierre, but I always called him JP) caressed my forehead with a gentle touch, then leaned in and even more gently kissed me. He knew what I was thinking. He always knew. It had been that way since we were kids, and as he flipped me over onto my stomach and slammed his 11-inch dick back into my nutt filled hole he asked, “Hey B, You ready for some more unicorn seed?”

 

JP always called me B. It used to be short for ‘boy’ - his first English word. Now it was just short for ‘daddy’s bitch’ when JP went into ‘top daddy mode’ during our sex games and role play. JP yanked me up onto my hands and knees and cuffed my head, forcing me to lay my chest down onto the mattress so he could scrape my insides with a deep fuck. Load #2 was always rougher - load #3 would take him an hour of fucking, pure beastial brutal fucking - and he was not satisfied until my ass pussy was swollen, black and blue, and my body was marked as his inside and out. Fuck I loved this man!

 

As JP started slightly snoring, exhausted from dropping three buckets of viral cum in me. I reached out to grab his hand and held it as I thought back to how our story began. I was four years old the first time I met JP. He was eight and covered head to toe in a viral suit, a Center for Disease Control (CDC) Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) suit, complete with a hood and face mask. It was 1972 and they didn’t have PPEs for kids back then, so the suit fit him awkwardly, especially as my Dad and the other CDC doctors had used duct tape to tighten it in certain spots to he would not fall over when he tried to walk. I thought it was funny, but from the anger on JP’s face, and the scolding I received from my Father, I learned I was wrong.

 

One day I was playing with the kids at my babysitter's house while Dad was at work, and the next we were in some new house, surrounded by boxes, and all I could see outside was a fence that I was told I could not go past. Beyond the fence I soon learned was a whole, new world. A world full of fighter jets, tanks, men in uniform, and from that day on Dad and I, (and soon JP), lived smack dab in the center of one of the largest, most secure, and secretive military installations in the country. Naturally the military installation also happened to be in the middle of bum-fuck-no-where!

 

For the next two years I saw JP for a several hours every day as he and I played together in one of the labs. We found 101 ways to entertain ourselves and excelled at role play. JP was always the good guy or dominant one, even though I was the physically boy of the two of us. He was the cop, I was the robber. He was the cowboy, I was the Indian. Whatever it was, JP was always in charge. He was never without his PPE, but I didn’t think anything of it after asking my Dad why he had to wear it and Dad’s answer was “Because he’s special.”

 

Knowing now that JP is Patient Zero and that all AIDs roads lead back to him, you might well ask 'Why did my Dad let us play?' Well, he was an angry, frightened, and often violent kid and I remember hearing Dad tell one of his techs that I was a calming influence on JP. In addition JP was always in that damn suit.

 

JP was the only kid with whom I was allowed to play. On the occasion of my sixth birthday party Dad asked if I would like to have JP live with us as part of the family. That was the best birthday gift ever and the next day - my actual birthday - JP moved into our house on the base. Not only did I have a new brother, but JP didn’t have to wear his PPE anymore. There were still rules - and Dad made me my brother’s keeper to ensure the rules were obeyed . For instance, JP had to wear gloves on his hands at all times, long sleeve shirts and pants, and if he ever tripped or cut himself, we had to hit a big, red alarm button by the front door and the house would be immediately swarmed by techs from Dad’s lab who would check us over, clean up, and sharply remind us to be careful.

 

Still, I could not resist touching JP when we were alone. JP would always pull away quickly and scold me whenever I sneaked a touch to his neck or some other small, bare patch of his ebony body. The feel of his skin, the warmth of his body through his clothes, the look in his eyes, which I now know was of the basic human need to be loved. Anyone else who touched JP was a lab tech who often had a needle to prick him with or some machine to hook him up to. I don't believe even my Father actually touched JP. I was the only person in JP’s life who saw him just as he was: a scared, lonely boy.

 

JP shifted in his sleep. I smiled and reached down to caress his hardening dick. Fuck - even after all that, and all the years being together, and the hundreds of times he has cum inside me, JP is still a fucking nympho!

 

In my teens our roles reversed. I became the wild, angry child and JP was the calming figure in our lives. I got caught trying to sneak onto a fighter jet, hiding out in the Army barracks as I tried to figure out how to run away, gambling with Marines using Dad’s gold watch as my bet, smoking and drinking with some Navy guys with stuff I stole from dad’s locked cabinet in the basement, and more. Through it all, JP was there. He never gave up on me, never got angry, and always made sure to tell me I was loved. My Father, on the other hand, was quick to remind me that I was brilliant, but stupid in the ways of life.

 

I was brilliant, I guess, so even with only the home schooling I had received from the tutors Dad had hired for JP and me, I was accepted at an Ivy League school just after my seventeenth birthday. At the time JP was 21 and the day I left for college was the first time I ever saw him cry. The sight made me angry - a reaction I regret to this day. I don’t know why I got angry, but the look of hurt and pain in JP’s eyes when I snapped at him and told him I couldn’t wait to leave, forever haunts me. Well, long story short, I crashed and burned. Having total freedom, having a whole new world to explore, have no one literally guarding me day and night, I knew no boundaries and no barriers. Drugs, alcohol, sex - I did them all to the extreme.

 

It was now 1986. AIDs was a major news story and had been for a few years. My Dad had even made sure I knew all about safe sex and at the time, I did not know why he was so insistent about that and never made a connection to JP, but when I went to college I knew all the steps that one should take to protect oneself - and I did none of them. For me it was not about being gay or whatever, it was just about having fun. Extreme fun. And the first time I took raw dick in my ass I was hooked. Yeah, I was addicted to the thrill of danger, the rush, and just the general fact that raw dick felt 1,000% percent better than a dick with a rubber. My ass was put against so many bookstore glory holes and taken so much anonymous cum I imagine I was directly responsible for the dramatic rise in the profit margins of the local sex venues.

 

JP’s dick was now streaming a continuous line of venomous, toxic fluid. I carefully dipped my finger into the small puddle forming on tight abdomen and then licked it clean. Fuck even at 52, JP’s 5’8”, 150 pound body was still pure, lean muscle. My hole twitched, but I decided to let him sleep a little while longer.

 

Back to our story. My world collapsed. Dad had a heart attack and I got kicked out of college for catastrophically failing, so, I went home where I decided it was time to grow up. Not only did I help Dad during his recovery, but I easily stepped in and helped cover for him at his lab. I also tried to make things up with JP. I felt bad. I really did. And while he seemed generally okay, occasionally I would still see the pain in his eyes when he looked at me. All I saw when I looked at him was a fucking hot black man with a monster BBC and I was determined to get it.

 

You may think that Truveda and PrEP is a medical advance from 2014 or so. Nope. The U.S. Government knew all about Prep by the mid 1980’s and it was created, thanks to JP. Before I left for college Dad had told me I had an iron deficiency or some shit and made me promise to take the pills he gave me every single day and told me that if I didn’t I would have a stroke. Well that scared the life out of me!  Surprisingly, taking those pills was the only thing I actually did do right during those months and it wasn’t until I was back home, covering for my Dad in the lab that I learned the truth: those pills were an early form of PrEP. They were just as effective as the current version, if not more so. That wasn’t the only thing about which Dad had lied - okay, well, not actually lied, but had not told me everything. There was JP. I spent hours and hours reading all his ‘secret and classified’ files:

 

• JP was Patient Zero. He was born in Zaire, in Kinshasha, in what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo. His parents had been labelled collaborators with the Belgian colonialists and when JP was about three his parents were killed and he was sex trafficked - literally sold - to some Haitian soldiers who were in the country helping keep the peace.
•  
• He was taken to Haiti, where he was sold again to some asshole from New York City and was then taken there, where the horrors continued. That’s where my Dad found him in late 1971.
•  
• My Dad is unbelievably brilliant and could see disease vectors and track viral clues like a bloodhound after a raccoon. His files show he told the CDC he was conducting tests of standard vaccination protocols in New York City. What he was really doing was tracking Patient Zero. He was looking for the source of a new virus, one he had seen in Haiti, and which he had followed to America.
•  
• JP was rescued and my Dad forever felt guilty about not having found him sooner. The files referenced how JP had coped with the trauma, how he acted numb, almost unresponsive when he was first brought to the base. How only after he and I had started being playmates had they seen a glimmer of change, and then real hope once he had moved in with us.
•  
• The files also detailed Project Unicorn - the U.S. Government’s efforts to slice, dice, and use JP as a fucking guinea pig for more untold horrors. They were especially intrigued by the fact that JP’s AIDs virus would mutate and evolve every year or so, seemingly randomly. My Dad even wrote in one file, “NO MATTER HOW MUCH THIS PAINS ME, THIS BOY’S LIFE IS WORTH NOTHING COMPARED TO SAVING THE WORLD.”
•  
• JP was Patient Zero. JP was the nation’s father of the AIDs epidemic. JP’s virus - then and now - was like nothing the CDC had ever seen. It changed, mutated, grew to toxic levels no biology should ever be able to endure, yet JP thrived. He never got sick. He didn’t waste away. All drugs were withheld from him. No treatment ever given. That fucking pissed me off; knowing my Dad and the government, had abused him all over again. Clinically I understood why, but personally I realized, right then, how much I loved JP. I had always loved JP. Now what was I going to do about it?

 

Project Unicorn 2.0 - my plan to get JP’s raw AIDs dick and have him infect me so we would be together forever. Crazy? Fuck yeah! Worth it? FUCK YEAH! JP had sacrificed - without a choice - so much for so many and no one would ever know. It was time someone sacrificed for him.

 

Step 1: Stop Prep - I flushed a bottle full of my ‘iron deficiency’ pills down the drain. I would lie to my Dad if I had to, but my mind and heart were set.

 

Step 2: Find out what JP knows about sex - On a military base getting gay porn, even back in the mid to late 80s was damn easy. Dad was gone for a couple days getting checked at Bethesda Naval Hospital, so I was home, alone, with JP. I got naked, plopped myself on the couch, popped in the video, and waited for JP to get home from his daily check in at the lab. He walked in, saw two black guys tag fucking a white bottom, grabbed his dick, shook his head, and literally ran to his bedroom and locked the door. I banged on his door, pleaded for him to open up as I ‘apologized’. Nothing except heavy breathing and a gasp. Yeah, I knew what jacking off sounded like.

 

Step 2: Touch that dick - I left for the lab as normal, but immediately backtracked, sneaked in through the garage, and waited in the side entry hall until I heard the shower in JP’s bathroom start. I waited another minute, then knocked, “Hey JP, mind if I piss? Damn you know how that coffee runs right through me and the other toilet is not working,” I announced as I walked into the steam-filled bathroom, flipped the toilet lid up with a loud SMACK, and chuckled as JP fumbled, mumbled, and tried to hide the big top tent he was creating as his hard dick poked against the shower curtain.

 

JP had his own bathroom for ‘safety’ reasons, and I lied about the other toilet. Once I finished pissing, I closed the toilet lid, sat down, and asked JP what was up. The curtain pulled back, then shut quickly as JP realized his monster hard on was peaking out. I boldly stood up, yanked the curtain back. JP’s reflexes kicked in and he wrapped his arms around his chest. I smiled, and with no place for him to run reached out and gently stroked his hard dick.

 

Oh my fucking God! The look on JP’s face. Shock. Shame. Guilt. Desire. Lust. Need. Acceptance. Demanding I finish what I started. Without another word I started stroking his dick, using the water of the shower and the lather of the soap to make my hand slick, warm, wet, moist, and just what JP needed. JP tried to stop me only once, “Please don’t,” he pleaded, “I...I’m...it’s not safe...I can’t...I….”
 

I replied “I know,” as I stroked him harder and faster. In less than 60 seconds he blew the biggest fucking load of cum I had ever seen. JP immediately gasped, pulled back to the far end of the shower, I smiled, wiped my hand on a towel and said, “See you tonight when I get home!”

 

Step 3: Remove the barriers - Bethesda decided to keep Dad for several weeks for tests, observation, and to tap his expertise. For me, I could not have asked for a better plan. That night I came home, made dinner, set the table, opened a bottle of wine, and when JP sheepishly came in I took his gloved hands, held them tight, gently removed one glove, then the other. Once his hands were free he looked like a scared rabbit ready to run. I cupped his hands between mine and brought them up to my face. First I had him touch my right cheek, then my left. Opening his palms, I smiled, bent down a little and kissed them. He tried to flinch, but I had expected that and held firm, then casually said, “I hope you’re hungry. I made too much I think.” For the rest of dinner I smiled as JP kept stopping and staring at his hands. It had been a far too long since he had been around any other living soul without his gloves on. I even reached out several times to touch the back of his hand, to press against his wrist as I grabbed the salt, to brush against his knuckles as I set my glass down. JP smiled.

 

Step 4: Take that nutt in my ass - The next few days and nights I replicated the success of that first day. It was torture for me as I wanted nothing more than his AIDs-filled dick slamming my hole, but I knew I had to be cautious. I would ‘accidently’ catch him in the shower and by the fifth day JP had the shower curtain pulled back and was eagerly waiting for me to stroke him off. At dinner that night we both were sitting at the table naked. JP had never even slept naked in his own bed. We laughed and smiled, genuinely enjoying the freedom of the moment. I freely rubbed my hand up and down JP’s arm, making the skin ripple with goose bumps. JP got up to go piss.

 

I followed JP and stood in the bathroom doorway as he sighed in exultation from the release on his bladder. I licked my lips, wanting to taste and swallow that salty offering, but knew I would soon enough. JP stopped, I handed him his drink and remained in the doorway as he scrunched his face and downed the entire glass as I casually tipped it up with my right index finger. He laughed, reached out and spanked my right butt cheek. I turned around, set my glass on the floor and said, “Spank it harder.”

 

JP tapped my right cheek lighter than a church lady. “Harder,” I urged.

 

The next slap was better, but not enough. The third, hell yeah - I yelped, raised up on my toes in reflex to get away, and as JP apologized profusely I turned, and kissed him. Big, open mouth, sloppy, wet, tongue fuck kiss. JP had a look on his face like a UFO had just landed in our backyard and the little green men had said, “Take me to your leader.”

 

I spit into my hand, reached down, and stroked his dick. At eleven inches it was pretty fucking long, and he was also quite thick. Could I take it? I didn’t know at the time, but sure the fuck was going to make it happen if it literally killed me trying. JP was quivering as I spit on his dick a few more times and continued stroking him. He grabbed the door jam, tilted his head back and gasped with pleasure. I paused, spat in my hand again and when JP did not feel me resume stroking his shaft he looked at me, looked at where my hand was and literally gasped.

 

I BENT FORWARD, LINED UP JP’S RAW MONSTER AGAINST MY GREEDY HOLE, AND CRIED OUT IN PAIN AND JOY AS I PUSHED BACK, IMPALING MYSELF ON HIS RAW, TOXIC, PLUNGER. JP’S ENTIRE BODY SHOOK. HE BABBLED SOMETHING IN FRENCH I DID NOT QUITE CATCH. THEN HE SLAMMED ME AGAINST THE WALL AS YEARS WORTH OF NEED, DESIRE, AND WANT CAME GUSHING OUT AND HE BLEW THE FIRST OF MANY LOADS INTO MY WELCOMING ASS.

 

After that first release JP’s guilt almost did him. Actually, almost did us both in. He felt shame, feeling he had done wrong. After all he knew the dangers, that he was Patient Zero, he knew that like the biblical prophets he had left waste and destruction and death in his wake. Hours later, after holding him, telling him over and over how much I loved him, needed him, wanted him inside, he seemed to get it, at least for the moment. The second and third breeding, while more brutal than the first, set the chemical and physical bond between us.

 

JP has woken up from his nap, slipped his black and white ‘thug’ bandana down onto his forehead, cocked his head so I can see the part cut down to the scalp, and said, “Show me that fucking pussy!”

 

He’s asleep again now, a small smile on his face, and I gently touch the little half moon curves where his upper and lower lips meet. Fuck, he’s sexy! My ass is throbbing - maybe for the next fuck he will take me to one of the base gloryholes?

 

So, back to our story. That first night was all it took to poz me. Dad was still at Bethesda but within 48-hours I had the fuck flu so bad I begged - literally begged JP to grab an MP’s gun and shoot me. His response? He fucked me some more. He was a wild man. The best had been unleashed. He had had found his lover, his soulmate and reconnected with his best - and only - friend - and he fucked me over and over and over. I had so much AIDs venom running through me I could have taken out a nest of rattlesnakes and a pit of scorpions!

 

When Dad finally came home from Bethesda he didn't seem to be surprised to see JP and me holding hands, no gloves in sight, or to learn we were a couple. I was ready for a fight, but Dad just smiled, hugged us both, and said he hoped we would be happy together but we had to understand what this meant. For JP, not much would change. For me, I was now Patient #1. I was the only person that my father could prove beyond a doubt was infected directly by Patient Zero. I became his next test subject.

 

The following years were a series of tests, trials, poking and prodding, but as long as JP and I were together, it was all good. Sexually, we explored every wild and kick ass scene and thing we could. There are some nasty, twisted, freaky mother fuckers on military bases let me tell you. JP discovered about 10 years ago there was a gloryhole in one of the Air Force maintenance warehouses. Every Friday and Saturday night he would have me bent over, sucking his monster truck rod, while some anonymous Air Force brat blew his seed in my hole. Once I was so full of cum I felt like I would bust, JP slam-fucked my ass. Anonymous cum sprayed everywhere until he filled me with his own loads. Often following such debauchery he would follow his cum with his piss.

 

Our role play became more intense too and JP knew that I would literally do ANYTHING he asked or needed. There was no safe word as he liked to beat my hole up like it stole something. No permission asked. I was his - and his alone - just as JP was mine - and as my husband moaned, turned his head and opened his sleepy eyes, I slid my nutt filled ass all the way down his 11-inch dick and said, “FUCK ME WITH THAT UNICORN HORN!”

[Hellboy]

Fuck dude... very hot story..

 

i so want aids... need it.

[KeineHier]

Amazing story! 

[drscorpio]

I would never have thought the revised story of Patient Zero would make good smut, but you did it. Super hot story!

[bareall77]

WOW. Just...wow. Unbelievably hot!