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My Date With AIDS


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Half of this story is true. Half of it isn't.

 

Everything's so different now when it comes to chat rooms. It used to be simple. There used to be just this one big chat site where you could go directly to your city or region and start a conversation with guys nearby. I'm in a medium-sized city and always found guys to talk to. It was 1998, and I was just a stupid kid messing around online. I was "out", but not really happy with the clubs I'd been to or the personal ads I'd tried. Somewhere around that time I discovered I was a "bug chaser". It was a surprise to me even though a therapist once told me that the thing you fear most is the thing you will eventually go after. So be it. I don't pretend to understand the human mind -- least of all, my own.

So I'm chatting in my city's room and I started a conversation with this guy who called himself "a tall, tasty top". Just my kind. But he also had HIV that was advancing ever so close to full-blown AIDS. We chatted for a bit and exchanged some personal information. He worked at a big museum and did misc. artwork for the place. He was a musician and seemed altogether interesting. But then he moved things along to sex talk. I'd already told him I was HIV NEG, but he seemed to want to know how far I'd go with him. I admitted that I wanted to suck him off. "You'd suck a poz dick?", he asked.

"Just yours," was my reply.

"My doc is really concerned about my viral load. I'm getting my tonsils taken out in a few days because he thinks that will help,".

Oh. OK. "Well, maybe we could meet for lunch later on?"

"My operation is Thursday morning. Want to meet for a late lunch on Friday?"

"Absolutely".

I thought that seemed kind of soon after a surgery, but I suggested a little bar and grill that was near both our workplaces. He agreed and it was all set. After I signed-out, I realized that even though we'd set a date, place and time --- we had no idea what the other looked like or would be wearing.  All I had to go on was 'tall, tasty top'. That'd have to do, I guess.

Friday came around and I told my boss I was taking the afternoon off. At 1 o'clock, I slipped out and was at the place plenty early to see if I could spot him coming in. It didn't take long before I spotted him coming through the parking lot. He was super tall, very skinny and looking like Hollywood (in my opinion). Dark black hair and full beard and mustache, glasses, and dark eyes directed toward me. He knew me too. Amazing. he was dressed way more casual than I was, but he was an artist after all.

Lunch. Well, I could have picked a better place for a date with somebody who'd just had throat surgery. They didn't even serve soup here, just hot chili which I doubt he could tolerate. I ordered a burger and he ordered a turkey sandwich. While waiting, we finally got around to basics like our names and ages and where we lived. He was so fascinating to look at, and his voice was low and friendly. His name was Kent. I took two or three bites from my burger and I couldn't eat any more. My stomach was doing flips like I was teen girl in love. He finished his food and half of mine before suggesting we go to a gay bar around the corner. "Just for a bit"

We got there and I immediately ordered a large pitcher of beer. He was a little concerned that my stomach was too empty for so much booze, but I lied and said I'd had a big breakfast. We were sitting at the bar on two stools. He was wearing old jeans with holes everywhere - including the ones that let me see his white, white bony kneecaps. I wanted to touch one of them, but needed some beer first. I hated myself for being shy. We drank and talked, and at some point he took my hand in his. Life was perfect. 

I guess I should've eaten more and I guess I shouldn't have downed the beers so quickly because we were deep-kissing right there in front of everyone. I'd touched both knees and possibly even kissed one. I might have even have rubbed his crotch. It's all blurry ---even the part where he drug me out of the bar and drove me to his house. I was fairly awake and lucid when we went in his front door. He escorted me to a very long couch where I just knew I'd fall asleep. It was so plush and luxurious that I was prepared to close my eyes and let dreams come on. I'd forgotten all about Kent. He'd disappeared somewhere. 

And then he walked in and cleared his throat. "Wake up!"

I sat up as my head spun a bit.

"I want to play a concerto for you". he announced. He  was completely nude and I noticed the scars on his neck, his fat dick and his long, long feet. He walked casually over to a fancy piano and started pounding out the most beautiful music I'd ever heard. Should I remain on the couch? Should I go stand closer? I opted to get closer and watch him.  It was all so wonderful and my head was filled with colors and images from each perfect note. And then it was over. He sat up from the bench, took my hand and led me upstairs to his bedroom. Either I undressed myself or he did it for me, but I was naked under his covers. He crawled in beside me.

"Still want to suck a poz cock?"

"Oh yeah. I do." 

He was stretched out on his back and I immediately put his thick knob in my mouth. Did I realize what I was doing? No. I just did it. I moved as far down the shaft as I could. He started bucking his hips and I knew he wanted me to complete the task. I pulled off, took a deep breath and continued. I kept sucking and my jaw got tired when he suddenly thrust his groin up and shot a huge load against the roof of my mouth. I didn't spill a drop and swallowed it all. Bug cum. I took his sudden snoring as a sign I could sleep too. And, oh I did. I dreamed of birds and piano music.

I woke up to two things: a desire for water and a prodding between my ass cheeks. Kent had woken earlier and had worked himself into full-blown hardness. He was pushing it into my hole. There was no way I could pretend to be asleep for this, but I needed to try. He got the fat head in and I yelled out. Very awake now. 

"Sshhhh". 

"It hurts too much. Maybe we shouldn't do this now".

"Get on all fours. Pretend you're The Sphinx".

I did as told...thinking of that odd monument in Egypt. And then he was covering me with his lean, furry body. He worked his way back inside with some lube this time. It nearly killed me, but it as it kept going I felt a little better. And as he slid in and back, I felt pleasure in my crotch area, I told him how much I was enjoying this and that made him thrust harder. And then he came. His poz cum was inside of me and I hadn't even mentally prepared for that. Too much to think about. 

I'd have so much to deal with when I woke up, but right now I just wanted to sleep. And dream.

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5 hours ago, nycnastyboy said:

I like all of your stories. My only complaint is that they're too short.

Thanks for the comment and for reading my attempts at fiction. I always worry that they're too LONG. The stories I like are the ones that get right to the sex, and I strive to make readers beat off without having to read too much backstory. But I appreciate your thoughts.

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  • 3 months later...
  • 1 month later...

Toon, you accomplished your "task" as did Kent. I sit here, stroking, aching to shoot but holding as my mind analyzes each sentence. I think of your past stories, trying to remember every detail. Why am I working my mind into this frenzy? Because I want to know the parts that are true!!!

Toon, YOU bring the best orgasms because YOU bring ME into the story. I get to live with your writer's mind and heart! 

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