Toon Posted April 17, 2018 Report Posted April 17, 2018 THIS A WORK OF FICTION March 7th, 1998 It would take too long to explain how a gay man like myself ended up being a reporter for a right-wing website. I'd listened to a college adviser who told me that hate was a growth industry. So many people were angry about Bill Clinton being elected for a second time, angry about gays in the military, evolution being taught in public schools, flag burning, immigrants, etc. They needed to hear their own opinions validated. I've been extremely liberal since I was 14 and had accumulated more than enough hours of being bullied by ignorant thugs. I was also an atheist in a region that could best be described as the buckle of the bible belt. Now I had joined their media world. A paycheck is a paycheck, right? One of the editors was vehemently anti-gay and pro-Christian. I knew enough about his kind to speak his language. I'd meet with him on Tuesday mornings to pitch story ideas. I'd done some research about how much tax money was being on AIDS research compared to other diseases and could bang out an article about that in a day and just relax for the rest of the week. If need be, I could even follow up with how much aid we were sending to Africa. "Yeah. Good. Do that, but I got an idea for something with more shock value. My wife's brother is a fag and he told her about this new thing where gays are trying to get AIDS on purpose. Can you believe that shit?! He tried to make it sound like just a kinky fetish thing, but I think it's something else too. I think they want to collect disability so they can just live off the government's dime. Always follow the money and you'll find a story. It's not enough for them to spend eternity in Hell -- they want to rip us off as much as possible first." I couldn't imagine how I'd research this even if it was true. "Can I use your brother-in-law as a source?" "Maybe. Maybe not. He says the bath houses are full of sickos doing this thing. I wouldn't dream of asking you to find information there. Look online...or maybe go to one of them gay bars. We'll cover the expenses of course. Could you handle that?" Oh I could indeed. I'd already been to a couple, but they were all about looks, style and dance music. There was one establishment on my neighborhood that had a leather dress code and a seedy reputation. It was scary--even on the exterior. "Well...I don't know. It seems far-fetched, Boss. Even if guys are really doing this, they probably wouldn't want to talk about it." "Just fish around. Get a quote or two from an 'anonymous source' and we can embellish everything else, 'enhance' the details. Start online and go from there." Making shit up was encouraged around here. We all did it. I went back to my desk and tried to access a local gay chatroom. Blocked. I'd have to do this from my apartment. I took a few 'work from home' days and started my research. The first thing I did was call my friend Randy. He was gay and pretty experienced. "Hey, man. What's up?" "Just shaving my balls again. I can't believe pubes can grow in gray! I blame my mom's side of the family. Bitch. Are you home?" "Yeah. I'm researching a story about gay men who seek out the AIDS virus. On purpose." "Bug-Chasing?" "That's what it's called?" I wrote down the term on a post-it. "So it's real?" "Where have you been, girl?" "Do you know any of these chasing guys?" "Yes. I do, but I'm not going to help you write a story for that fascist web site. We've talked about this. I won't connect you with a chaser or a gifter. You'll have to do that on your own. Go to Club 1815. That's all I can tell you." He sounded somewhat indignant, and I really couldn't blame him. "I don't have enough leather to wear there." "As long as you have boots, a vest and a leather jacket - they'll let you in. I can loan you some stuff, but that's where my participation ends. I love you, but I have principles." "I may take you up on that. So thanks, Randy." Gifter. There had to be those as well as Chasers. 'ScottsdaleM4M.net' was a local chatroom that you had to join and set up a personal profile. Fine. I could do that. As soon as I signed in under the name 'Dino'. There were a dozen users there, but not much chatter. Dino: Any chasers or gifters here? DesertCub: Why? Are you looking for a death fuck? Shubby80: Ignore this guy. He's only been a member for three minutes. Dino: I'm new and curious. I want to learn. DesertCub: Just hang out at Club 1815...lots of toxic sperm exchanged there. I could give you a quick education now...where do you live? I signed off. It was real after all. Maybe I could just invent a story and nobody would ever know it was fiction. Credibility counted for nothing these days anyway. Randy called me. "How's it going, Lois Lane?" "Ugh. I hate it when you call me that. Get some new material, dude." "Be nice to me or I won't take you shopping tomorrow. And lose this grumpy attitude." "Sorry. I went to the local chat room and it was a little scary." "Could have told you that. See you tomorrow morning at 11. You can buy me lunch." March, 1998 I met Randy at his apartment and he waved me in. "God. Do you ever look hungover? I swear this clean living of yours will be the death of me. I've dug out all the leather gear I own, but I doubt much of it will fit you. Maybe the boots -- size 12, right?" "Yeah. I can fit in those." "Everything else we'll have to buy. I have a thin, girlish figure and you...don't." We went out and ate lunch at a taco place before hitting a bizarre adult store called "Playpen". Randy said I could just wear faded jeans and a white t-shirt, but I needed a tough leather jacket and a leather cap. He got me good and outfitted after an hour of shopping. My t-shirt said 'Just Do Me'. The jacket was very Village People and expensive. But I guess I was going undercover. For good measure, Randy insisted I also get some mirrored aviator sunglasses and a leather baseball cap. It was exciting, embarrassing and just so time-consuming. I liked Randy. He was my only gay pal. "Thanks for helping me, guy." "It's all against my better judgement but I'll go with you to 1815 this Friday. You will need my help. I've changed my mind bout the sunglasses... Forget those." "I appreciate that." Randy showed up a little early Friday evening and my hair was still wet. "Change of plans, Sweetie. I've decided to take you to Belle's first. There's a bartender there who knows everything going on in this town. Absolutely everything. He could be a good source for you. Want a drink? I brought some Schnapps." "I thought you'd started A.A. again." "I usually slip on that sixth or seventh step." He bit his lower lip. "I need an elevator instead of steps." The Schnapps was a potent cinnamon swallow -- like liquid Dentyne mixed with radioactive waste. "Ugh. Is this 300 proof or something?" "I'm loving the boots and the jeans. I still think you should have bought that 'Hard Rock Cafe -- Sodom' t-shirt, but you were right. Nobody would get it. Put on the jacket and the cap.on and let me see the whole effect. Hmmm. The jury is still out on the cap. Never mind. Just mess up your hair a little. Here. I'll do it." "Let's finish this and then we'll go. I'm so close to backing out now, just making up a fictional piece and calling it 'news'. It's pretty much all they do there anyway." "Oh. That reminds me...don't bring up the name of that website. Just tell people you're freelance. Did you remember your mini tape recorder?" "Got it." By the time we got to his car, I was slightly but pleasantly buzzed. Randy gave me a few last minute instructions during the short drive. "Act like you've been there a million times and this is nothing new. No offence, but you tend to get these big owl eyes when you're concentrating on something. Relax." Belle's looked like any other pub from the outside. Just the regulation neon beer signs and such. Inside was smoky and loud. I guessed the remainder of the happy hour crowd was still there, smoking and having 'one more for the road'. OK. I was fine with all of this so far. Randy and I sat at the bar as I felt dozens of pairs of eyes aimed at me. "Relax! You're just new and getting scoped out. There's Ted. Be cool and we'll get you a scoop." Ted was a short older guy with a Hawaiian shirt on. He and Randy did that European kissing thing where you peck each other on both cheeks. Randy gestured my way and had a whisper chat with him. I sat there like an alien from Mars. "Good news. Ted will tell you all he knows as long as you don't use his name...or the name of this place. You're with me -- so he knows you're cool. This place will quiet down in about an hour. This is just a place where people warm up for an evening somewhere more fun. He'll come over when he gets a chance. God, you're an owl again! Calm the fuck down. Get this...he almost doesn't believe you're wanting to report on bug chasing -- he thinks you are just a chaser using the writing thing as an excuse. That's not the case is it?" I acted like I was about say something, but just took a drink of whatever he'd ordered instead. I'll admit I was a little more interested than I probably should have been, but not in the chasers as much as the gifters. I needed to look at them and find out what was in it for them. I mean -- it was borderline murder almost. That was exciting to me. "No, Randy. I'm just doing a job. I have to write a hatchet piece about Planned Parenthood next. What is this drink? It's good." "Seven and seven. I'll make it a double next time," he laughed at me. "My little owl." "Here's the thing", Ted explained, "The gift-givers don't even need to advertise much. Some of them might have a biohazard tattoo or a visible lesion on their neck or arm or somewhere. They might weigh 90 pounds. Chasers will spot them and buy them drinks and bat their eyes." He stubbed out his cigarette and promptly lit another one. "But what do they get out of it?" "For chasers, it's a rush, a thrill ride. The givers either like the constant raw sex or they like someone flirting with them after years of considering themselves ruined and undesirable. Maybe it's a revenge thing..you know, like they want to take out their frustrations by shooting a poison load in some clean ass and taking them down too." I'd forgotten to even take out and turn on my recorder. I wasn't on the clock now anyway. Fuck that website. I was fully aware that the subject interested me intensely. Ted had unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his furry chest and nipple ring. "As for the chasers -- they don't have to do much of anything except take raw dick every chance they can. Parks, bath houses, parking lots. It's pretty easy to get AIDS these days. Now there are some guys who want to know the minute they take a dirty load. make it a memorable ritual. If that's the case, it can be tricky. Guys lie...about being negative or positive. There are chasers out there who claim they are HIV- but have had the virus a long time."It's a matterrof trust and you can't trust anybody." His nipples were as erect as a man's could be. Was he flirting? Seducing? Maybe. Did I like it? Yes. "Are there chasers and givers here right now?" "Of course, but I won't out them. I earn a living here, you know? I can't betray a regular, no matter how beautiful your eyes are. Can't. Won't." "I understand, Ted. Thanks. Where's Randy?" "Still here, waiting for you. Hate to break it to you, kid, but I think he wants your bod." "No way. Why? Did he say something?" "No. But you can't be this clueless. Maybe you can. It's after 11:00 now. You two should go to 1815 now. I made a few calls on my phone and lined up some people who will give you interviews. Maybe I'll tag along." "Don't you have to close up here? Finish your job?" "Nah. I'll just call the owner and have him come fill in for me. He just lives up the street and he owes me some favors." He winked. I went back and sat with Randy while Ted punched away at his cell phone. "He wants to come with us. That OK?" "Sure. Didn't I tell you he'd have lots of information?" "He gave me some new perspective. I think this could be a good story -- too good for that wingnut website. I might write it and then send a draft to a different, better outlet." "Here," he gestured to two shot glasses filled with what I guessed with tequila. "An admirer sent these over. I think your cover is blown. I didn't say anything, but word got out. somebody must have heard what you and Ted were discussing...or he told some of his pals." I did a quick scan of the dozen or so guys left in Belle's. If I had to go by looks alone, I'd say there were three guys with the 'AIDS look'. One guy in particular seemed to be trying to catch my eye. He was tall, skinny and had shoulder length black hair. I guessed he was Native American -- at least partly. I smiled at him and he turned away. Guess it wasn't him. A big bear of a man in his fifties walked through the door. Because he got immediately behind the bar, I assumed he was the owner here to relieve Ted. I was right. Ted came over and sat with us. "One cocktail and then we'll go. 1815 makes their drinks way too strong and I can't risk a second DUI." "Hey, Ted -- do you know that long-haired guy over there." "Dante? Yeah. Why? You like that type?" "No. Well...yeah. He's hot. Was he the one who bought us the shots?" Ted shook his finger at me. "I don't tell anybody anything like that. If whoever paid for the drinks wanted to be known, you'd know. You guys about ready?" Ken and the owner said a few words to each other and announced (loudly) "We're going to 1815 now. Wish us luck!" That one guy with the long hair looked at me with blazing eyes. He had to be the one who bought the drinks. I was sure of it. Out on the sidewalk, the wind had picked up and helped clear my head. We were going the opposite direction of Randy's car. It turns out Club 1815 was just a few blocks away. So we walked. Hoofed it. I was a little buzzed, but not enough to not notice the secret eye contact Randy and Ted made. Whatever. I looked behind us and saw a couple of lovey couples embracing and other loners smoking, trying to sober up a little before driving home. Our state had recently changed the blood/alcohol limit to .08. Damn red state. I'm sure my level was higher and was glad I wasn't driving. I turned around to glance back again The drink-buyer had finally exited. I swear his eyes had laser powers or something. He was a big guy and made an impressive shadow on the sidewalk. What part of me wanted to run back and hold him? The booze? The idea of him knowing I was becoming a chaser now. All of the above? God, he was HOT. "They're going to card you, Dean. God -- you should have worn sunglasses. It's cool, though. Like it or not -- you look like a child. No offence.'' "Hush now. I told him not to wear sunglasses. I mean, look at his eyes. He looks exactly like a chaser, doesn't he?" They were both smoking cigarettes, and I suddenly craved one. "Can I bum a smoke?" Ted held his pack out immediately. "Good idea, kid. Nothing ages you faster than a nicotine habit." Huh? We were suddenly outside the front of the famous/infamous Club 1815. "Today is a day that will live in infamy." Which president said that? Roosevelt? Truman? The thumping bass of the music found us and I suddenly kind of wanted to just call it a night and walk home. Maybe the cigarette had sobered me up enough. "He looks scared, Randy. Make him stop." "Give him a minute. Dean -- you have to change that expression. Ted went to a lot of trouble to make sure you'd get people to talk to for your story." OK. Fine. The inside of the place was somewhat insane. I instinctively grabbed Randy's upper arm like some little kid hugging his mom's legs on his first day of kindergarten. Nobody carded me but many sets of eyes turned my way. New Guy Syndrome. I'd never have this advantage again. Ted found a table that had just been cleared and we sat. Randy walked confidently to the bar to fetch us drinks, leaving me alone with lecherous Ted. "There's no story, is there? You are just chasing the bug." "No. There's a story. Really." "IF you are chasing, you just have to say so. I'd gift you and so would Randy. We're both bottoms, but fucking is fucking. My lover is the one who infected me...and we're still together after ten years. He has a huge dick and he'd get you pregnant on the first try." "Randy is positive???" "Yes. Shh. Here he comes." Randy gave us each a 7 & 7 and settled into his chair next to me. "What did I miss?" "Little Dino here wants the bug. He didn't come right out and say it, but you were right." "I didn't say he wanted it...I just said he was curious. He's a reporter, asshole." I just sat there like a potted plant. I shouldn't be here because I'd been outed. I looked around and saw that most of the men were dressed like I was. It was what they call "leather drag". I thought it was pretty hot, but you never saw guys dressed like this outside of a gay setting. Randy had once told me that you could tell tops from bottoms by what side of their body was most adorned with jewelry or chains or straps or something. I just don't remember which side meant what. The music was loud but I didn't see anybody dancing. The lighting was not 'high tech' at all. I wondered if this was the kind of place where AIDS began to first spread in the the early 80's. "OK. Now it's time to go meet the people you want to 'interview'. They're meeting us downstairs." "Downstairs,Ted?? It's his first time here." "He may look like Bambi, but he can handle this. Dean's got the hunger. Right, Boy?" "Yeah. I guess that's a good word for it. Let's go downstairs." There was a basement bar that wasn't as loud but just as committed to the leather fetish...maybe more so. We had just settled at the bar when I realized I had to pee. Badly. The tiny. dim bathroom had one of those long metal troughs instead of individual urinals. I had to go so bad and nobody else was in there. As soon as I unzipped and released a stream of piss, the door creaked open. "Alone at last!" It was a deep, smoky voice I didn't recognize. My dick retreated a bit and the urinating stopped. "Huh? I'm done." I turned and saw a man who was my size, dressed exactly like me, almost. He was late 30's probably and had a thick brown porn mustache. "You're the chaser, right? Ted told us you'd be down here, but he's been known known to bullshit people." "Ted told you I was a chaser and that I'd be here?" This was getting a little too surreal. "Oops. Don't rat me out. It might have been Randy. Is it true you still have your cherry? You won't much longer. I'm Matt...I'm sure we'll meet again soon." He unzipped and hauled out one hell of a penis. "Want to give it a little 'see you later' kiss?" The head of his dick was maroon, slick and shiny. Oh, I wanted to taste that penis. Was he a gifter? "I won't say a word. Will you come sit with us when you're done here?" "Let's go now. I didn't need to pee anyway...I just followed you in here because I wanted to be your first. I'm...well you'll find out later." OK. Maybe it was the booze or just nerves, but I touched my index finger to his piss slit. Sticky. We exited and joined Ted and Randy at the bar. Traitors. I guess you really can't trust anybody. They each looked shocked that I'd brought somebody back from the bathroom. "Matt! Surprised to see you here," Ted said with an arched eyebrow. "No, you aren't. I was lucky enough to meet with your Dean." "You didn't..." "No. No. I just let him get a glimpse. That's all. It was just a preview, guys...I swear." There was a drink waiting for me and I gulped it. The really overweight bartender was watching me and came over immediately and refilled my glass with a clear liquor that I didn't know the name of because his ham-like hand was covering the label. Whatever. I was in a sexy Fellini movie now. I reached my hand over and let it rest on Matt's crotch. I didn't even care if he had HIV...he'd been the first person to be honest with me all night...AND he had a magnificent cock! Randy was competing for my attention. He squeezed my wrist and whispered in my ear. "He's a jerk. Don't let him be your first giver." "You set me up. This was some kind of plan you had? We're no longer friends." "No. This all happened suddenly. Blame Ted. He organized the event." "Event?" "Shit. You're getting pozzed tonight, Dean. It's all set now. If you want to leave -- well, I'll help if I can." "What event?" The bartender turned a little blue light, siren-like thing. It didn't make sound - just spun and flashed. K-Mart Blue Light Special. My negative HIV status was on sale. So be it. About the half of the guys left the basement and went upstairs. The barkeep followed them up and locked the door. One guy was protesting, "Can I at least watch, Barry?" "Fuck no. Did you want an audience watching you that time in April? Either fuck him or leave." He was finally dismissed and the door was re-locked. I turned to Randy. "What's going to happen now?" "Oh, well...there is a warm up period where Barry puts on some porn and guys start taking off their clothes a little at a time. Most of them will come introduce themselves. Oh look -- your secret admirer is here." There he was, lurking in the darkest corner. The tall, dark guy from Belle's. He looked huge...6'7" or more. He had a leather trench coat on and looked so bad-ass. "Do you know him?" "Sort of. I think he's Eskimo or something. He's been after you since you first made a profile on the internet. He runs that website...and he knows where you live. He helped Ted set this whole thing up. I might have also helped." "What's his name?" "It's long and hard to pronounce. Everybody just calls him 'Eon'. Supposedly, he has a strain of the virus that can't be treated. That's just a rumor, though." Some of the crowd were bare-chested now. The bartender,Barry, brought new drinks and I had to wonder if he'd put something extra in mine. He was shirtless as well and his big hairy gut hung out like something alien. I estimated there were sixteen gift-givers here. Eon wasn't drinking and hadn't removed a stitch of clothing. Just stood there smoking. The TV over the bar was showing some vintage porn with no condom in sight. It was set on a farm or a ranch. The sound was low but you could still hear the slurping, slapping and moaning. More clothing was being shed. Matt - who I'd forgotten all about - bumped my shoulder with his. He had stripped down to his underwear and socks and was rubbing his erect dick. "You don't have to kiss it now, but could you kiss me? Hell, why not? Nobody else had come by to 'meet' me. I kissed his mouth and then pulled away. There was grumbling from the others. "I'm not really liked much, but I'm viral as fuck and want to be your first." I needed more to drink. Barry brought us fresh drinks and free shots. Randy was pulling at my sleeve. "Take off your jacket and shirt at least. Everybody thinks you're going to chicken out. And be careful of Matt. Why don't we trade seats...I'll deal with him." I stood up and took off all of my clothes -- even the socks and underwear. All sets of eyes watched and there were some grunts of approval. Others did the same - including Ted and Randy. I thought they were both bottoms. Was Randy really going to fuck me? My friend? The crowd gathered closer. Eon stood right where he was, sizing me up with his stare. I continued to drink as more hard, poz dicks surrounded me. Barry bought shots for all of us and said "It's time, yes? You get to pick your first AIDS fuck -- after that, it's whoever wants you next. You have ten minutes to drink and think while I go get the mat. Well, this was for sure happening. Ted was sporting a nice, fat boner. "You should pick me...I know how to be gentle. Your ass needs to warm up a little." "I thought you only bottomed." "I'll top for a good cause." Barry brought the mat and a big bottle of lube or grease or something. The group buzzed and moved in closer...but not Eon. Had he changed his mind? "OK, It's time to begin the breeding. Dino decides who he wants first and then the line forms. Well, Chaser...who's it going to be?" "Him." I pointed directly at Eon. It had to be him. There were murmurs from the crowd. "Better get the first aid kit, Barry," somebody said.Eon hadn't moved or changed his expression. Randy whispered in my ear. "That wasn't a smart choice, Dean. About half the guys here won't fuck you after he does. The rumor about his super strain are widespread. And he's got a giant dick....not in sexy way way. Just freaky. I wanted your first time to not be your last." Ted had left and then Randy followed. How bad could it be? Wasn't this what gay men did all the time? I was suddenly alone as people moved to make room for Eon who had finally walked over and sat next to me. Barry eyed us warily as he set two new drinks out for us. "Hi, Dino." "Hi, Eon. What happens now?" "We'll talk a little and get to know each other first, And then..." "This all happened pretty fast. Should I be worried?" He laughed and urged me to drink more. "No. This is a gossipy bunch of queens. I will not hurt you any more than what is inevitable. You've got a nice little boy body there." "Why didn't you just pick me up at Belle's? Why did this whole ritual have to be set up?" He lit a cigarette. "You enjoy the chase and I guess I enjoyed chasing you. Not usually how it works, but this is all for you." "Oh. Have you gifted before?" "Yeah. Four of the men carrying my babies are here tonight. I've developed a new lesion on my tongue. Want to feel it?" I didn't even have time to answer before his mouth was on mine and we were Frenching up a storm. There was a little rough spot there, like a little hot button. "Stand up." He removed his coat and nothing else. "Get on your knees and suck my dick." He'd hauled out that famous meat of his. It looked inhuman and darker than the rest of his flesh. "Make it hard." I fed on his dick like I was starving. It was too much for my mouth but I did my best. Ever so slowly, it got thicker and heavier. I could barely even get my lips around the head. Nobody ever told me I should practice this...I just assumed I'd be a natural at it. I thought my lust would give me all the abilities I needed. "Good. Now get on the mat and wait." I wasn't sure what position I should be in so I just lied on my back and looked at the TV light bouncing on the ceiling. Eon was greasing up his monster and his fingers. His shirt was off and I saw his huge tattoo of a wolf in the middle of his hairless chest. He wasn't exactly gentle as he poked a finger into my hole...and then another. "Relax. It'll be so much better if you can avoid tensing up." "It feels funny." "There's a numbing agent in this stuff. I'd never get any ass without this stuff. Ready?" "Yeah." Eon hoisted my legs up in the air and tried to enter me. No way would this work. "NO!!" "Shhh. Relax those muscles and let me in there." I yelled out again, and Barry or somebody turned on loud music to drown out my screams. Eon kept pressing ahead. Ripping, tearing, injury. I might die from this. I really might I opened my fear=filled eyes and looked into Eon's face. "Don't fight this. You only get one first time and you only get one true breeding. Imagine me giving you this gift and try to get your body to match your brain. There you go. See? There you go...I'm almost all the way in now." His voice was deep and so sexy. And he was right - I couldn't let pain ruin this once in a lifetime moment. He took advantage of my openness and started to thrust slowly but steadily. It was starting to feel okay, better than okay. His savage side came out as he got closer to coming. Harder and faster, faster still. "Okay Dino...It's time. It's....AHHH! FUCK! I'm seeding your ass!" His cock had expanded and pulsed as it shot. I didn't feel the load physically, but my mind did. My soul felt every venomous gush. Eon collapsed on top of me and I felt his heart thumping hard, pumping the infected blood throughout his giant body...blood that was similar to mine now. I had a million different thoughts in my head but I let them work themselves out while my animal self just leaned up and kissed his neck. "Thank you." I meant it. "Thank YOU. And you're welcome. You okay? You seem okay -- you're smiling." A few people applauded. "Yeah. I think so." Somebody handed me a plastic container of pre-moistened wipes. "You got three minutes before the next breeder's turn. Do what you need to do." Barry was trying to move the evening along. I cleaned up down there but didn't look at at the used wipes because I knew I'd see blood or poop or something that would wreck the moment. I don't think I even got a full three minutes before Matt was fighting his way to be next. If I could survive Eon, I could survive this guy. Hell - I think I could survived a baseball bat or a traffic cone inside me. I knew that my drinks hadn't been spiked with anything because my mind was wide awake and my thoughts were clear. "More," I thought. "Hi, Baby. Remember me? Ready for a back-up breeding? I'm used to getting Eon's seconds." "That's a great mustache, Matt." "Yeah. Thanks. I'm going to write my number on you with a marker. Lots of guys here will do that." He wasted no time in just planting his rod straight into me. It hurt, but either the magic lube or the defeated nerve endings in my ass kept it from being a painful experience. I could finally just enjoy the fucking. Matt's verbal skills and technique were superb, and I thoroughly enjoyed him. He came and I didn't get a second break before another guy was taking his turn. And then another. And another. Barry made me get on all fours so he could do it from behind. The only fuck that wasn't too memorable was Randy. He just wanted to blow his nut and leave. A few of the givers went at me a second time. "Hell, kid! You took almost 20 loads and it's barely even 2 AM! You can go use the bathroom by yourself now. If you want more toxic seed, we'll have to move this party to some body's house." Eon helped me to my feet and handed me my clothes and shoes. Swell guy. He walked me to the bathroom and told me he'd stand guard until I was finished. I sat on the toilet for a long time and tried not to hear the sounds coming from down there. I also flushed without looking at the aftermath. I got dressed and fixed my hair as best I could. It never once occurred to me to look into my reflected eyes to see the non-virgin, HIV+ changes. Who the hell cared?? The crowd had mostly cleared out when I returned. Only Eon, Randy, Matt and Barry remained. Ted must have left a long time ago because I don't remember sex with him. "He's back! Time for a toast!" I went and sat next to Eon as the shots were served. He kissed me on the cheek. "Have mine. I don't usually drink...kills my boner." "Your boner is amazing, man." I gulped both shots and kind of wished for another. "I'm going to have a beer - do you want a Coke or something?" "No. Have your beer fast and then we should go. The last call crowd is pretty crazy upstairs." Eon drove me home but wouldn't accept my invitation to come in. He seemed very tired, but made sure I had his number. I ended up quitting my job at the hack website and working for my first gifter. He needed help with his emerging web company and wasn't always feeling very well. We slept together as often as we could but didn't move in together. Either I loved him or was just obligated to him. Or both. He just called me from St. Luke's hospital. They are keeping him until his fever goes down. I need to wrap this up now so I can see him. THE END 2 2
bjbottom Posted April 17, 2018 Report Posted April 17, 2018 Going to any length to get the story, I admire the determination. Taking 20 loads in a few hours I am just jealous of the slut! 1
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