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I'd like to tell you a little story. It's about something we've all heard of and many fear. It's about HIV. It is about what happened when I was infected with the virus. Oh, perhaps that was a little to abrupt for you... that blunt, prompt disclosure of my status. You know, some people expect ‘kid gloves’ when it comes to this whole topic. If you are one of them, this story is definitely NOT for you. It would be best if you just moved on to something else right now. If, on the other hand, the first paragraph makes your dick hard, then you will really enjoy this story. Still with me? If so, don't let it be said that I didn't warn you....

My lover and I met about a year after I divorced my wife. It's funny how my lover and I met - it was through an on-line advertisement in which he said he was "selling his wares." I wasn't looking for the full meal deal. Although I'd just been promoted to a new position and wanted to treat myself, I wasn't into paying for sex. I just wanted a massage. Now I bet you're saying to yourself, "He married a call boy?" Well, we didn't start off that way... engaged, I mean. That came much later (no pun intended). At the outset, I merely wanted to see him regularly as a person, not as a client. He eventually agreed once we'd established that I knew he was free to continue working, and I had no expectations other than to show him a good time rather than the other way around.

The early days were interesting to say the least. The boy was constantly on the go. Seeing people he knew as clients, as friends, as fuck buddies, etc. A very busy boy indeed. I was no prude by any means either. Even so, it wasn't too long into our relationship before we began having unsafe sex. Now don't jump to conclusions about the plot. Be patient. Newly out of the closet, I had never had unsafe sex. Sure lots of "straight" married men cruise the parks and bookstores and get off on the sleaziness of cumming into any hole that presents itself. I did get off on sleaziness, but I was never unsafe. Not even after I was divorced and began my life as a single gay man... until one particular night, that is.

The night came along when I had this sexy boy in my arms, and he just sat on my hard, bare dick. We had been seeing each other for a while, and our feelings for each other were already growing very strong. I just let it happen, and...well...if you're reading this, perhaps you can remember the first time you came in a man’s ass. If you can't, let me remind you how mind-blowingly incredible it is when it first happens... especially if you had never done it without a condom before. I would never again use a condom with him or anyone else. We both basked in the afterglow, and I could tell by the look on his face that this boy was happiest when there was cum swimming inside him. I still am not sure how often he'd been fucked unsafely since he'd broken up with his previous lover nine months prior, but I can say truly that he loved having MY cum flooding his guts!

Perhaps I was already in love, because it seems odd to me that I accepted my enjoyment of unsafe sex with him so quickly, notwithstanding I had been previously so careful. Notwithstanding he was still very promiscuous and I was hardly monogamous with him myself. It was a week or so later that I contracted genital herpes. Knowing was wrong I went to see my doctor. He gave me the diagnosis, and interestingly enough, my thought was not that I might have gotten herpes from the boy, but that I might give it to him. Well sure, I considered briefly that it might have come from him, but herpes is easily transmitted orally or anally. I started taking the medication, and I told the boy the whole story. He handled it very well. I guess he had understood the risks, after all, he was working as an escort. He was checked out by his doctor, and received a clean bill of health. Both our doctors suggested that we take HIV tests, so we did. We shared a couple of wonderful hours in intimate conversation about what would happen if either one of our tests came back positive. He seemed concerned about his results, but not afraid. He knew how promiscuous he'd been.

He knew that increased the odds. I was having night sweats at the time, so I was downright nervous... and lonely. His fearlessness bolstered me, and I was grateful to have him there to talk with. I knew we were falling in love as we talked so honestly and directly about what most people would consider the hardest things to share. Confronting death and disease is not exactly a topic usually tackled in that early infatuation stage of a relationship, but we were sensitive to each other and shared our feelings with ease. The next weekend we were due to go to Palm Springs together for the weekend. As it happened, I got my results the day that we left. His were not due until we got back.

I tested negative. I got out of the doctor's office and cried. To this day, I'm not sure why. Mostly relief I guess, but things change. Today, I feel much differently, but that is due mostly to the Love of my life and what we share. Oops, I'm getting ahead of myself. Sorry. Anyway, by the time we landed in Palm Springs, two things had transpired. First, I was almost completely over the herpes. I had been taking the medication, and things had cleared up. I didn’t think there was much possibility of infecting him at that point. That was good, (and possibly irrelevant) because second, I was frantically horny to fuck the boy and cum up his ass. Turned out we couldn’t even wait to fuck in our room! When we got to the bed and breakfast where we were staying, (it was one of those ‘clothing optional’ facilities) we went skinny-dipping immediately after dropping off our luggage. As this sexy boy floated in my arms, I had one thing particularly in mind, and we did it right there in the pool. DAMN, that was hot. I'll never forget it. We enjoyed a wonderful weekend together full of laughter, love and really REALLY hot sex! The next week after we had returned home that we began to talk about the things we found the most erotic about the time we had shared in Palm Springs. For both of us, that first time in the pool was one of the highlights. He was starting to tell me about how much he liked that for two reasons. The first was that other couple that was in the hot tub across the pool watching me fuck him in the water.

Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Please forgive me. Details.

The other part we both found so erotic became something that would change our lives forever. For him, it was that there was no guarantee that I wasn't giving him herpes. For me, it was that for all I knew he could be HIV positive (his results weren't in yet, remember?) and that I could be infected by fucking him.

How did we just start talking about the possibility being infected by the other and that it was a turn-on for both of us to fantasize about? I can only blame it on destiny. We were fated to share those fantasies and more. He was reluctant to just come out and say it, but I had guessed. I also had some of the same fantasies about him, so I took the risk of just putting it out on the table to discuss. We were both blown away by how special it was to tell each other about it, and I hung up the phone and cabbed it over there to fuck him and eat the cum from his ass. As a consequence of talking about our fantasies related to infections, cupidity had consumed us, and we simply had to be together in love and lust for one another.

That night we made a pact. If one of us ever tested HIV positive, he would pump his cum into the other and knowingly, lovingly share the virus with him. We both knew if one of us became infected, the other would crave to share it. We promised not to deny each other that privilege. I would dream of doing just that for many nights after... of fucking him and infecting him... knowing that he craved it, wanting and needing me to give it to him.

As time went by, we acknowledged that we were deeply in love. Ours has always been a special relationship that allows sexual freedom and trust for our love of each other, but we always came together to share our adventures with one another. Our lives became entwined, but we each held a valuable individuality that most partners lack. We eventually moved in together when I bought a condo. Life was especially carefree then, not that things aren't wonderful today as well. We continued to make glorious love to each other, and we had separate adventures too. Not as many as in the early days (his escort work had dwindled significantly by this time), but we still enjoyed that freedom occasionally when he or I traveled alone. It was surely on one of those independent sexual adventures that I was infected with HIV. I always tested rather frequently (every 3-4 months) not because I was particularly worried about being infected. My heart's love had taken that fear from me. I just wanted to be sure to know ASAP if I did get infected, so I could consult the doctor for early infection maintenance treatment... and also so I could tell the love of my life as soon as I knew.

One early morning just before dawn, I woke up in night sweats and was tested that same day. I was diagnosed HIV positive. I had sero-converted. It was a struggle to hide my smile when the counselor was giving me the results and the accompanying spiel. I was not sad or angry. Mostly I was just excited. My sexy boy tested the same day as I. I encouraged him not to, for fear of a disappointing result, but he was adamant in making sure that he was still negative. Due to our pact, and the fantasies we had only dreamt about, he just wanted to be sure. He wasn't disappointed. He tested negative. And I was newly positive. If I came in my lover's ass even one more time, I could infect him with the virus as well. He knew it, and he was craving it just as he knew he would. I couldn't wait to keep the promise I'd made. It was a Thursday afternoon when I learned I was infected. I can hardly express in words how much I wanted to be home with him. I had called him from the car on the way back to the office after I got my results. We both cried with love for each other. I will never forget it.

I knew he eagerly awaited me to begin our lovemaking that night, and the thought of it had me the horniest I've ever been in my life! I was rock hard with an erection that could have cut glass! I ached to cum, but I knew I had to save it. I could not believe how lustful I felt knowing that I was carrying the virus and would soon pass it to my lover. Knowing that he wanted it gave me such an erotic high, I could barely function for the rest of the day. I couldn't wait to get home to give him this gift I was now carrying within me.

I was leaking pre-cum all afternoon, and I took every opportunity to taste it with the knowledge that the virus was present in that salty, slippery fluid. With each taste, I knew my love would relish it on his tongue and lubing his tight hole. When I arrived home that night, I was greeted with passionate kisses, the tightest of hugs and a beautiful candlelit dinner. We were truly preparing to celebrate our love and an all-encompassing sharing, with all the potential results. The gift I had to share with him was motivating us both that night in the most powerful, magnetic way. I just can't express it adequately with words. We dined and talked, and we prolonged the anticipation of culminating our infection fantasies with an intimate conversation about how our lives had changed forever in one day. Even so, we were so high with lust that the conversation became intensely erotic as we discussed what we were about to do one last time.

"I want your ass cleaned out, so nothing will prevent my cum from soaking into you all night long."

?"My hole has been twitching since you called this afternoon. I am aching for you to fill it with your infected cum." "I can't wait to infect you. I've been thinking of nothing else ever since I found out I have the virus inside me. I want to share it with you and make you HIV positive as well." "You are my poz-lover. I will take your infected cum inside me for the rest of our days, and can't want it anymore than I do right this moment. I crave to be infected the same as you. Please infect me with your disease."

I had taken the next day off, and he, of course, had not scheduled any clients. We undressed each other with all the restraint we could muster, and we spent the next 80 hrs or so in bed, in the living room, kitchen, bathroom, garage... just about everywhere... and we were making love the entire time. I fucked him mostly, as many as four times in one day. In between, he fucked me or sucked me dry, or I ate the cum dripping from his ass (despite his best efforts to hold it in all day), or I sucked him off. Although he didn't get his first HIV positive test results for three more months, I know I infected him that night. I knew I was doing so with every drop of my cum that he took.

That weekend was over 6 years ago, and we make love even to this day with the special knowledge of how we shared this disease, making each sexual experience especially more erotic. We have occasionally invited other HIV infected guys over for unsafe play, trading cum with each of them and relishing every drop. Do you believe in cross-strain HIV infection? We both do, and it gave us special erotic pleasure to imagine that the infected loads we took from other poz guys enabled us to re-infect each other several times over. I have not yet had any outward AIDS related complications. My love was hospitalized once when he came down with pneumonia, but he has been quite healthy ever since. I doubt he'll ever quit smoking for good though. Ah well, considering what we've shared, I'd feel silly denying him a small vice like that if it gives him pleasure.

So we go on together through life, more in love than ever, treasuring each day together and each night, sharing what we have with each other... and with others as well. But those are separate stories for another time. To give you the splendid details of that first entire weekend when I infected my lover would take forever. There were too many wonderful feelings shared that I would do it injustice to attempt to relate it in its entirety, but I can’t leave you without describing the first time I fucked my lover's ass after I knew for sure I was infected. Here is what happened.

He took my hand and led me from the dining room to our bedroom. There was some soft new age music on the CD player, and the glow from the dozen or so tapers he had lit were casting a warm, sultry light that made his eyes dark and inviting. We had both been in a state of unbridled arousal all afternoon, and the anticipation I had reveled in was too much for me to bear for even a moment longer. Still, we undressed each other slowly. I could have been imagining it, but I believe as my lover boy looked over my naked body, glistening with sweat, flushed with excitement, he looked on me with a lust I had never quite seen before. He knew what I had for him, and he wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted in the years we had known each other. He had a look of hunger. He looked ravenous. I could almost suspect he would have eaten me alive if I hadn't known exactly what he really wanted. He knew I contained something within my body that he craved as well, and I was going to give it him. If he could have acquired it by physically ingesting my flesh, he probably would have, but there was a better way and we were about to get down to it.

As my gaze wandered over his smooth body, admiring his slim boyish build, his rippled abs, and that tight, round butt of his, (DAMN, I love his ass), I looked on him in a way I had generally seen him: as a healthy young man. He was clean, healthy, disease-free, HIV negative. I knew I had the power, the obligation and the privilege to change that. After that night, he would never be completely healthy again. I was going to take that from him, and yet that power gave me a rush such as I had never known. Of course, he was willingly giving his body to me knowing full well what would happen. He knew I could infect him, and he wanted it. He wanted to share it all with me.

Our heads were swimming with these thoughts, as we took one last moment to look on each other's bodies. They brought on the elevation of an erotic ecstasy neither of us had ever really known, as we perceived each other as different (one HIV positive, the other negative) for the last time. After tonight though, what I had, he would have. We lay together kissing, our erections leaking pre-cum all over each other. Our breathing was ragged, and the heat we felt radiating from each other's bodies could have been fever, but it was a lust that, combined with our love, created a power of attraction that was unearthly and overwhelming.

My Love pivoted beneath me on the bed, so we were in a 69 position. As he lapped at my hard dick with his tongue, he got the first taste of my HIV positive pre-cum. He moaned lustily, and with each drop he tasted, his hard dick pulsed so I thought he might cum without touching himself. Somehow, he held off. Somehow, I did too. His pre-cum was dripping onto my chest, mingling with the sweat caught in my chest hair, as I buried my face between his butt cheeks. He was quite smooth there, since he shaved regularly. Again he moaned as my neatly trimmed goatee brushed his crack and my tongue swirled around, in, and out of his puckering hole. Considering the innumerable clients he's entertained, the fuck buddies he's done, and the regular poundings I'd given his ass over the years, his is still the hottest hole I've ever fucked. He has never gotten ‘loose’ the way some guys joke. After a bit, but before I came, we rested for a bit, his asslips tightly milked my softening dick as I pulled out.

For round two, after I ate his hole and I had prepped him with my spit, he straddled my crotch in a sitting position as I lay down on my back. One of his special talents is the way he teases my hard cock with the crack of his ass, just barely catching the tip of my dick with the outer ring of his hole, sliding my spit-lubed cock up and down his spit-lubed ass. I could not stand it any longer, so I reached down and steadied his hips while I nestled the tip of my now stiff, drooling cock at the entrance of his hot ass with my other hand. Looking up at the blissful look in his eyes, I sat up and leaned forward, intending to kiss him, but instead, before I knew what was happening, he was beneath me, his legs around my torso, the head of my dick still poised to enter him. Kissing him long and passionately, I whispered in his ear, "Are you ready? Last chance."

He merely replied, "I love you. I'll never be happy again if you don't share with me the virus that infects your body. Please give it to me." With that, I pushed forward, and the entire length of my hard and dripping cock sunk into him as I counted to five in my head. There was no resistance, and we both looked down between our bodies to watch the space between us slip away. In that moment, we were one again. I fucked him slowly first, tenderly. I had to or I would have cum too quickly. I had to make it last to do this properly. As much as I was enjoying this lovemaking more than any I ever had, I still had a job to do. As I got myself under control after first entering him, I picked up the pace. In about ten minutes, I was literally slamming into his body. He accepted each thrust like a trooper, grunting, even crying out in earnest on occasion. I knew it was becoming painful for him, and that turned me on I have to admit. It was necessary to abuse his hole to complete my task, and the goal itself added more to my ecstasy than I'd have thought possible.

I was in the rhythm where I pull out slowly, pause, and ram it in deeply in as single, invasive thrust. I sat up somewhat, and watched my cock drive into him again... and again. It was when I saw a pinkish tint in the glistening wetness that I knew it was time to give him my dirty seed. The friction of our lovemaking had now caused him to bleed a tiny bit. The abrasion of my thrusting had created the opening that would give the virus within me a way to enter unhindered into his blood stream. It was time to take the final step.

I looked up, and he knew from my smile what I had seen and what it meant. I could feel our hearts thrill together in anticipation of the final act that would bond us forever. I leaned over and kissed him as our love soared and carried us away. I fucked him in a moderate steady rhythm as I released the tight control that had held me from orgasm. It felt as though it had been a hundred years at least since I had learned of my test results that afternoon, and now the wait was over as my orgasm built within me.

I wish I could tell you how it felt, that orgasm. I can only describe it in the sense that the physical and emotional sensations transcended anything I have ever felt before or since. The room, the bed, our entire lives before that moment all melted away in a wash of candlelight and sweeping music as I drove my orgasm into my lover, my HIV infected cum flooding his insides. I had only to grab hold of his swollen cock and hold it tightly to see his own cum fly up to land on my face and chest. The first long spurts caught me across the bridge of my nose and just below my right eye. His cum dripped down onto my tongue as I panted, my dirty seed emptying into my lover boy's hot ass. I had done it. As he willingly gave his life to me, I had infected him with the deadly HIV virus that pumped with my blood through my veins. Now his blood and his cum would carry it too. We collapsed together, my cock still buried within him, crying with joy and relief and love. I don't know how long we lay there together, but gradually we returned to our bodies. It was the happiest most fulfilling time of our lives.

Eventually though, another hunger took over and we decided to return to the dining room for dessert. He reached over to hand me the butt plug, and I carefully pulled out of him and inserted it, making sure not a drop of my cum was wasted. We lovingly fed each other chocolates and fresh berries and whipped cream, smiling and glowing with the knowledge that as the minutes passed, my cum was doing its work within him.

I would fuck him again that night and several more times over the course of that weekend. I waited for him to take care of his morning bowel movement before resuming the next morning, since I didn't want anything getting between my infected cum and his body. Neither of us have ever had even the most fleeting sense of regret over our decision to share my infection. It was and will always be the most erotic experience of our lives. I still get hard and usually jack off if I find myself thinking of that time when I'm alone. Here's hoping you did the same thing as you read my account of it.

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  • 1 year later...
  • 10 years later...
Posted

Wow...that is the most erotic, passionate story I have ever read.....i remember the night I was infected. I did not know he was poz at the time but I do remember how intense and passionate our sex was .He kissed me deep as I felt his dick pulsate, not realizing the minute his semen started flowing in my rectum that his HIV was infecting me.  It was only three weeks later when I came down with the fuck flu that I realized the man who made love to me that night had left his DNA permanently inside me. 

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Posted

This is how I want to be converted. Erotic but also beautifully written. Thank you!

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