Diary of a Bugchaser

[hivchaserbtm]

Foreword - I am a Bugchaser

I am a bugchaser.   Nothing turns me on more than begging for a fresh load of poz cum blasted right into my bugchasing cunt.  I’ve lost count how many poz loads I’ve taken over the years.  But it really doesn’t matter.  I’ve had syphilis, chlamydia, and gonorrhea each more than once.  Whenever I get those results, my cock gets hard and my pussy gets a little wet.  Mission accomplished.  Another successful chase.  

Some people ask me why I’d get tested at all.  And it’s because I want confirmation that I’m a diseased bugchasing slut.  One time after I tested positive for syphilis, the doctor asked me how many sexual partners I’d had in the past month.  My cock was already rock hard from hearing the results and going through all the backroom depravity in my head over the last 30 days started to make a wet spot appear on the front of my pants.  I had no idea how many cocks I’d had inside me.  I didn’t even see most of them.  I was on all fours with my ass in the air most of the time.  So I threw out a number: “At least 100.”  The doctor put his head in his hands and rocked back and forth.  He kept repeating, “oh...oh...oh…” over and over.  Finally he sat upright and said, “Have you talked with a psychiatrist about your nymphomania?”  I stood up and walked out, the syringe of penicillin still lying on his desk and the disease still with a foothold in my body.  I was gonna carry this thing around for a while longer just to spite this guy!

I’ve been bugchasing for a long time and I’ve thought a lot about what makes me a bugchaser.  People say we’re “despicable.”  They say we’re messed up in the head because we actively seek out disease.  Doctors recommend counseling just for being a slut.  I can’t imagine what that judgy doctor in my story would have said if I told him that I was glad I was a diseased faggot.  So why do I have this fetish that’s so fucked up?  Why do I do these things that make even the kinkiest gay men turn up their noses and call me a freak?  Why do I want AIDS?

Because sluts get AIDS and because I’m a slut!  I love bareback sex.  Getting AIDS would mean I’m a diseased cock- and cum-loving faggot.  I love getting fucked and bred in a dark room at a party without even seeing the guys’ faces and not even caring about status.  I love doing what everyone tells me I shouldn’t be doing just because it’s forbidden.  Growing up, I was taught that wearing a condom was the only way to protect myself against this deadly disease.  But I was never one to follow the rules.  Good boys follow the rules, and I was no good boy.  I got detention often.  I got suspended.  My grades were fine--good even--but the academic part just came naturally to me.  I just always loved doing what I’m not supposed to do.  So when I started having sex and the time came to decide whether I was going to use condoms or not, I chose not to.  Only good boys used condoms.  And I knew my decision meant I might get AIDS.  

This is my story.

[hivchaserbtm]

Chapter 1 - The Twink in the Bathhouse, Part 1

I wasn’t always a diseased faggot.  Sure, I was always curious and I always knew what I truly wanted.  But we all have to start somewhere.  I fantasized often about how I’d get pozzed.  To that point, I always imagined it would happen at a bathhouse.  I’d find a man and he’d take me to his room.  Neither of us would ask for a condom, signaling we were either both already poz or didn’t care about status.  When he told me he was about to cum and asked me where he should shoot, I’d beg for it in my ass.  He’d tell me he’s poz and ask if I still wanted it.  I’d tell him “fuck yes!” and he’d howl as he delivered his diseased load deep in my neg guts before collapsing on top of me.  I wanted so badly to make my fantasy a reality!

I was 22 when I finally got up the courage to go to a bathhouse for the first time, the West Side Club in New York.  I was in the city on my first business trip as a “responsible adult” with a real post-college job.  It was 2005 and at the time I was a typical cute boyish blond twink: 5’9”, 150lbs, and an 8.5” thick cock.  I  know, it’s always the skinny twinks who are hung like horses, but I don’t use it much.  My hungry pussy is my primary focus for sex.  And yes, I call my asshole a pussy or a cunt because it turns me on.  It’s a hole that was made for men to fuck, so that’s what I use it for.

I’d barebacked with plenty of guys in college but never with someone I knew to be poz and never with a complete stranger at a bathhouse.  I was so nervous, I didn’t know how any of this worked. I walked to the window, asked for a locker, paid, and got my key and towel.  I went to my locker and undressed.  I saw other guys were wearing their towels around their waists so I did the same.  I locked my things up and started walking around.

Everything I knew about bathhouses and cruising was from stuff I’d read online.  And in 2005, I didn’t find much.  I started by walking through the hallways, peeking in rooms.  I was too scared for a truly anonymous darkroom hookup on my first visit.  Plus I hadn’t yet truly and fully embraced my slutty no-loads-refused bugchasing nature.  I’d have to see the guy’s face and body first.  This time, anyway.

Being a cute twink back then, I could usually take my pick of the guys.  I had been captain of my college swim team.  I was hot and I knew it.  And I walked those hallways that night with an attitude.  I wanted my real-life fantasy to be perfect and just as I had pictured in my head.  I’d peek in one room.  Damn he’s fat.  Another.  Gross, he’s old AND fat.  Another.  Is he even alive?  Maybe I should check if he’s breathing??  Finally, his leg twitched.  Thank God I didn’t have to explain to the police how I found a dead man in the gay bathhouse.  Still another.  He was objectively hot but back then, any man above 30 to me was far past his expiration date.  Yeah, you might say I was an egotistical jerk.  Of yourse, you already know I’d learn to taper my ego eventually in time, so hopefully you will forgive me for being young and stupid once upon a time.

Finally I saw a man who met my standards.  He was about 6’, Latin, muscular, clean-shaven with a short cropped haircut.  I didn’t know what to do.  I followed him from a distance for a little while, so far away that I lost him a couple times in the maze of corridors.  The second time, I loitered in a common lighted area with a bench, hoping I’d see him again.  I was just about to give up when he finally appeared.  He walked over and sat down next to me, likely sensing I had been following him.  What do I do now?  Do I talk?  Do I even look at him?  Is eye contact okay?  Should I try touching him?  Should I whip my dick out?  God, I need a fucking manual for this!

Finally he made the first move.  He put his hand on my thigh.  My cock jumped to attention.  I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact yet.  I froze.  He looked at me while I just stared down at his hand on my thigh.  I was shaking.  Maybe he knew it was my first time.  He slowly moved his hand to my abs, my chest.  He grazed my left nipple, which instantly became erect.  My whole body was tingling.  It wasn’t my first time with a man by any means, but the experience was exhilarating.  My mouth was dry, I was breathing heavily.  He moved his hand to my skinny twink arm.  Fuck, why didn’t I lift weights?  My body felt so inadequate next to his.

“Fuck it,” I said to myself.  I reached over and touched his muscled chest.  I moved down to his abs.  But all I wanted was his cock.  I could see his cock standing at attention under his towel.  Finally I reached for it, gently stroking it through his towel.  It was just as I had fantasized.  I wanted my prize!  I moved my hand under his towel when he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

“Do you have a room,” he asked.  Still unable to speak, I shook my head “no.”  Never letting go of my wrist, he stood up and guided me back through the maze of corridors to his room.  I followed him inside and he asked me to shut the door.  

By the time I turned back around, he had removed his towel.  His cock was massive!  It was easily 9” long, uncut with trimmed pubes, and way thicker than mine.  I was about to take the biggest cock of my life, and my pussy was already wet with anticipation!  Finally I get to have the random slutty bareback sex I have always fantasized about!  Is this the night I will get pozzed?  Will this be the cock that pozzes me?  Please let it be so!

I walked toward him and reached for his beautiful cock.  Again, he caught my wrist with his hand.  He put my hands at my side and reached to take off my towel.  My big twink cock sprung to freedom.  He grabbed it and started stroking it.  “Nice,” he said with a smile.  Again I reached for his cock and again he stopped me.  “No,” he said.  Is he toying with me?  Making me wait or work for it?  Just let me touch that monster already!

He dropped to his knees and deepthroated my whole 8.5 inches.  He reached up and played with my nipples as he sucked.  My body was on fire!  It was my first time at a bathhouse and a man whose name I didn’t even know was on his knees sucking my cock.  This is probably one of the most vanilla scenes imaginable to most, but for a 22-year-old twink who had very little experience in depravity, I felt like a dirty whore and I loved it!

Finally he stood up and reached for a bottle of lube.  No condom was in sight.  My fantasy was about to come true!  Even if he wasn’t poz, I was still making progress towards what I knew would be my final outcome of being a diseased bareback slut.  He squirted some lube into his hand, still no condom to be seen.  Then he rubbed the lube all over...MY COCK!  He squirted some more into his hand.  Maybe this second squirt was for his cock and the first he was using merely to pre-lube my cock for me to jerk off while he fucked me?  No, he reached behind himself and lubed his own ass.  My fantasy bareback bathhouse fuck was a BOTTOM!

He bent over and presented his hole to me, which left me with two choices.  I could fuck him and still sort of fulfill part of my fantasy.  Or I could go home disappointed.  And I sure as shit wasn’t going home without getting some.

I’m not a top.  I’ve topped a few times but only because guys begged me to.  I have a big cock after all, which looked absolutely massive on my tiny twink frame.  I pushed my cock head against his hole.  It slid right in.  Fuck, I could physically feel that this guy is who I want to be!  I had been fucked quite a few times and I thought my hole was getting to be pretty accommodating.  But his was huge.  There was no resistance at all!  His hole was open and velvety smooth.  I fucked him the best I could while he moaned.  He seemed to be enjoying it.  I slapped his ass, which caused him to clench his cunt around my cock.

I fucked him for a while.  Eventually, he said, “You can cum in me any time.”  That would be a problem, though.  I’m a bottom.  I don’t cum from topping.  I never have.  It just doesn’t do it for me.  I stayed hard but only because I had my body pressed up against this gorgeous hunk of a man.  “I don’t think I’ll be able to cum,” I said.  He replied, “No?  Aww too bad.  Mind if I do?”  I said, “Fuck yes!  Do it!”

Obeying his top like the total bottom slut he was, he grabbed his cock and leaned back into me, jerking frantically.  He turned his head to the side and kissed me.  I kept pumping away at his ass like my life depended on it and he pushed back just as hard with every thrust.  Finally, he yelled, “Oh fuck!  Oh fuck I’m gonna-- AHHHHH!”  He growled as his whole body convulsed with pleasure.  I looked over his shoulder as rope after rope of thick white cum erupted from his huge cock.  He caught most of it in a pool in his left hand.  Finally he slumped forward, struggling to catch his breath.

I pulled out and started to grab my towel.  “Hold on,” he said.   He must have sensed that I was a bottom too because he took his left hand, full of his fresh jizz, and reached for my ass.  I bent over slightly and spread my cheeks for him.  He smeared his load all over my pussy and stuck a couple fingers inside.  Fuck, I got a stranger’s load in my hole after all tonight!  I imagined to myself about all the bugs that might be swimming around inside me at that very moment.  I reached for my cock as he found my prostate.  The idea that I might have a poz load in my hole at that moment sent me over the edge.  “Fuck, dude, I’m gonna cum too!”  Immediately he opened his mouth and deepthroated my cock, nose to pubes.  I grabbed the back of his head as I squirted my neg load directly down his throat.  His finger still in my ass, he massaged every drop of cum out of my prostate.

He stood up and kissed me.  “Thanks,” he said.  “Thank YOU,” I replied.  It wasn’t what I had fantasized about, but it was a hot experience nonetheless.  I picked up my towel and turned to leave, his load dripping from my asshole.

“I’m neg, by the way,” he said as I left.

Shit.

[Hellboy]

Hot start more

[shinelover]

Very hot start. I'm definitely looking forward to more!

[sqwhirlly]

Can't wait until the chems come into play.

 

[Tallguy1982]

More please

[hivchaserbtm]

15 hours ago, sqwhirlly said:

Can't wait until the chems come into play.

 

Haha...patience.  I'll tell you how I became a chemsluT soon enough.  But like I said at the beginning: we all gotta start somewhere.

[Usccocksucker]

Great narrative style! Please keep writing!

[Mrversa1982]

Rockhard here! Keep on going! I love depraved bugchasers hmmmm