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I Know You’ll Be Back


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        PART 17

 

It ended up taking three days to ge to Ron’s house. They had really worked me over and my hole was just too raw. But by day three, it felt better and i had also had three days to think about it. Three days of lusting for him when i was horny and then guilt when I’m wasn’t. Guilt at knowing i was letting him inside me raw. Guilt that i had pretty much begged him to fuck me, even after he had told me that he was hiv positive and wouldn’t pull out once he was in me. Guilt that i had felt like i just needed his cum inside me, even if he hiv. Maybe even more because he had hiv. And then the guilt would turn to lust and i would relive that moment of him rubbing my hole with his cock head, smearing Precum all over it. Him slowly working his way in until he was sliding in and out, balls deep. Balls deep. Announcing he was ejaculating in my guts, balls deep. Feeling a little stab of pain as his cock punched deep but being so proud to take all of him inside me, to know he gave me all of himself and was as deep as he could be when he shot his cum. When he bred me. I finally understood it. For Ron and Tom and guys like them, i was basically a virgin. And i couldn’t have a baby but i could have hiv. If they give it to me. And every load, every time they let go inside me and pumped their cum into me, they were giving me their cum, the seed that would breed the hiv in my body. And somehow, i seemed to want this baby inside me. But i didn’t. But i kept letting it happen. It only takes one time and i had already taken enough loads to get a room full of guys positive. But i didn’t want it. I kept telling myself that. And this inner battle kept going on for the whole three days. Telling myself this is crazy and stop now and maybe you will be ok. And then obsessing over the feeling of the poppers, of my hole all slick and wet with lube, of the full feeling of a cock inside of me, but mostly of the moment where Tom and Ron were telling me they were cumming. Of that feeling and how powerful it was mentally, how proud i felt for making them cum and for letting their pleasure override the stab of pain when they slid into me. Earning the load mattered. It mattered so much. And even though i felt ashamed when i called him, it didn’t matter. Shame didn’t matter. Ron said he had saved his load knowing i would call. It’s hard to tell just how much those words effected me. How much it made me want to be a good bottom for him. How he had saved it for me and if i pleases him and was good, he would let me have it. And i wanted it. I wanted it more than anything. Ron, who was old enough to be my dad and who had looked me in the eyes and told me had hiv had saved up his load and wanted me to have it again. And i was driving to his house. 

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