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In sickness - A poz love story.


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This is a story I started writing after the idea came up to me on Sunday. It's a romantic poz-themed story, that of course includes bug chasing. I must disclaim, though, that since it's more of a romantic story and less of a "I went to this bathhouse and stealthed the new guy hohoho", it will progress slower and have more details through its progress. I'll appreciate that you read this with patience, and rest assured it'll be worth it. The hot stuff will cum; but it's surrounded by a good amount of romance and a bit of drama. Please enjoy. ❤️

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1 - That man.

Look, I've never been the kind of person into romance. For a while I thought I was aromantic, that I'd spend my life being promiscuous. Mind you, this wasn't self defeating or settler mentality, I liked the idea. 

But Brett. Fucking Brett. I love that man. 

Flashback noise. We met at the retail store I worked for years ago. He was nice to me (which, if you've worked in retail, you know is apparently more than the bare minimum) and flirty, so when he left I gave him my info in case "his purchase ever malfunctioned". Wink wink.

Honestly, I thought it'd just have been a hookup like every other guy.

What an idiot.

When he called days later, he invited me to get coffee and talk. Of course, my horny ass thought "oh so he's one of those that requests visiting a public place before going to his". So I did all the preparations leading up to what I thought would be a sex session. 

  • I douched (and pretty deep just in case he was into fisting).
  • I showered (but not too thoroughly in case he was into manstink).
  • I got dressed in nice clothes (but not too nice in case he were the kind to rip clothes off people).
  • And made for breakfast The Bottom's Choice Meal™ comprised of water juice, a water snack, a water salad with water dressing, and the day's PrEP pill which I gulped with, you guessed it, milk (the energy has to come from somewhere).

I drove to the coffee shop after looking up the directions. I see Brett, whose name I barely knew from selling him that thing at the store, sitting alone in one of the outside tables, which judging by the weather wasn't the best decision. Getting out of the car he already recognized me (THANK. GOD. I barely remembered him).

"Hey! Casey right? From the mall?"

"Yeah, you must be --"

"Brett!"

THANK. GOD. (Again) he interrupted me. I was just about to call him Brandon.

We sit on the same table, wind blowing slightly. His blonde straight hair is moving all around, getting slightly messier every blow of wind. Brown eyes glowing slightly, though most probably because they're combating getting dry from the air attacking them. The tank top he's wearing, complete with the cover art of Watain's Sworn to the Dark printed on it, is loose enough to flow with each gust, but not loose enough to hide the slight belly he rocks as part of his average-ish body type. He has a couple of tattoos, but nothing severe, and you can tell they’re all in places where it’s easy to hide them. He smelled faintly of sweat and what seemed to be Sauvage de Dior, so it seems he can afford designer fragrances but still has to walk or bike places. 

I had never focused so much on these details.

Usually I check out a guys bulge size and his face, just to know if I need to turn off the lights when we’re fucking.

But he was different.

He was very charming. He never seemed nervous, he always kept the conversation going, he didn’t pretend to be more interesting than he actually was. I can’t say he was “everything I wanted in a man” because at that moment, that just meant his dick, but had I been more open to the idea of actual attachment he probably would’ve been. 

That day I did not even think about having sex. I already had so much fun just being with him.

“I have to get back home, I have work tomorrow.” He said after checking his watch. I checked mine too. 8PM? Already? I looked around in slight shock of the time. We had walked around for some time in the park next to the café, so the sudden internalization of the warm lights, the trees whose flowers were only illuminated by sudden changes of light, the smell of nocturnal food trucks nearby, the brownish orange tone throughout the atmosphere forced me to realize we’d been talking for hours.

“Ah, I see. I had a lot of fun today.”

“I did too. I’d ask to share each other’s number but we already got it…”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Well, I’ll see you.”

This was so awkward it’s clear to me neither of us wanted to say goodbye.

“Hey, man, uh…” I yelled at him as he started to walk into the distance, making him stop. 

“Yeah?”

“How about we see each other at the bar next to my store on Friday night? Drinks on me.”

Looking at me with a small, shy grin, he replied. “I don’t drink much, but I’m down to be the token responsible friend.”

“Bet. See you.”

As the now colder wind blew yet again, his tank top lifted slightly as he turned around to walk away, revealing a small piece of one of his tattoos, sitting at the lower portion of his oblique area. Could not see what if fully was, but what I got to see was slightly reminiscent of a crab’s claw. 

A marine biologist? A SpongeBob fan? Pet crab owner? A Cancer sun? 

Either way, I was excited to see those scarce and scattered tattoos up close and in full. But for the first time ever in my life, not in a horny way.
 

 

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Writer’s note: Yesterday I wanted to post two chapters together since the first one is a bit slow. However, since I’m a new user, I reached my quota for posts I could make daily 😅  However, I am making fast progress with this (I hadn’t written stuff in a long time, so inspiration exploded), so I’ll post chapters two and three today ;3, enjoy!

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2.- im drunk

 

Into You by Ariana Grande echoing on the open walls of the gay bar I was in. The smell of sweat, poppers and colognes of diverse levels of quality coming from the dance floor populated the entire atmosphere, slightly illuminated by the various colour lights and the spotlight from the stage where a drag queen had just performed. I sat in front of the bar, drinking a Paloma with the messages app open on my phone. Usually I'd have Grindr or an even sleazier app open, but that night was different. I was meeting with Brett for drinks, and patiently awaited him texting me to tell me he was there. It was, honestly, a little hard not to be tempted to run off with some other guy to the bathrooms and fuck there. I saw some regulars eyeing me, as well as some fresh meat - I'm not the most attractive man but I sure am not hard to look at. But no, tonight it's Brett's turn.

"Hey, I'm finally here. The line was long." I felt a tap on the back of my shoulder, alerting me of Brett's presence. Looking back at him, the lighting obviously did not show him off, but I could see his hair slicked to the back, prominent eyebrows shading his eyes almost making them invisible. I could barely recognize him, but I knew it was him. "Hopefully you haven't been waiting for too long."

"Don't worry about it. I just got here, really."

We moved to one of the empty couches near the bar after I ordered another cocktail, while he only ordered the most dangerous, crazy, überalcoholic drink you could ever order: a virgin lemonade. We talked just like that Sunday, about our interests, music we've listened to, funny things from work, that sort of thing.

"Hey, Casey! Looking for a good dicking tonight? Rubbers' on me." We were interrupted by a dude with a red tank top and shorts with two cocktails in both his fists. I recognized him as one of the guys I've hooked up with many times before, but I don't remember ever exchanging names.

"Not tonight man, I'm kinda busy." I make a slight head gesture towards Brett, hoping this guy will understand.

"So he's filling you up tonight? Frankly I've seen you do better. You couldn't find someone better looking?"

I didn't know what he was talking about - Brett's not ugly. Believe me, I've fucked with ugly, I know what ugly looks like.

"Look man, I'm just hanging out with him and I'd appreciate if you moved on for tonight. I'm not available."

"Go fuck yourself. You and your loose hole are always available." He set one of the drinks on the table in front of us. "If you need a dick actually worth the time you know I'm always at the gloryholes. Enjoy your charity work." He stormed off, downing the other one.

"Brett, I'm sorry, I didn't think that'd happen. Please don't believe anything he said about you..."

"No, I get it," he reassured me "I know people can be assholes if they don't get what they want. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? He did say some nasty shit..."

"I'm sure, I just need a drink. Are you drinking that?" He pointed at the cocktail that other guy had left.

"I'm not... but didn't you say you didn't drink?"

"After that, today I do."

About an hour goes. You know how Mojitos and cocktails like that are pretty risky because they call for copious amounts of hard liquor, and yet the fruity and minty flavours mask the alcohol taste? Yeah, tell that to Brett. He got wasted off one, probably because a lack of alcohol resistance. I'd probably need about 5 of those to get to his level, so I got real shocked.

And apparently he’s the emotional kind.

“You know, what that guy said did hurt a bit,” he said, with a slight slur of his words. “especially lately.”

“Lately? Anything going on?” I noticed that question might be touchy immediately after I asked. “You don’t need to tell me, but if you want to.”

“I’ve never told anyone else but fuck it, I’m drunk.”

At least he’s self aware.

“I’ve been so insecure about my body this past year. I used to be pretty active but I’ve gained weight, I’m already balding at this young age, I’ve been told I don’t smell too good…” he looked at the floor, with a shaky voice that stood in contrast to his smooth, confident and slightly dark tone.

“We all go through that. And that’s fine by me. I don’t see these as flaws.”

“You don’t but others do. I’ve already had no sex since I caught HIV but lately that’s gone worse. And that’s already been hard enough. I tried to cope with it in any way I could. I thought just taking the meds would let me ignore it but they’re a daily reminder that guys don’t wanna fuck me anymore. I even got a scorpion tattoo to celebrate it but I feel it puts a bigger target on me. I even talked with guys that... nevermind.”

So it’s not a crab. It’s a scorpion. He’s poz.

“Fuck, I’m an idiot. I probably already scared you away telling you that. I get it, I’m fucking dirty, you can leave.”

“Brett, I…”

He turned around, his back facing towards me.

“If you want to leave you can.”

“I’m not leaving, Brett.” I hugged him from the back, triggering him to start sobbing. It would’ve made a scene if the deafening club music didn’t drown out the noise. “I’m not leaving.”

——————————————————

3.- Work on Saturday 

 

"Let's go home." In the midst of the loud music, I whispered in Brett's ear after he calmed down.

"Okay."

I called a ride to the address he told me was his home, ride which was mostly silent bar a couple of sniffles and quiet moans of discomfort. Once we arrived I looked at the numbers on the doors to locate his. A one bedroom apartment that luckily sat on the ground floor, it had a blue couch in front of an older-looking TV, the lights were warm hued - too warm for my taste but I guess he probably couldn't change them, and it smelled of generic lavender home deodorant. I basically dragged him through the white tile floor towards the bedroom, which was littered with clothes on the floor but certainly still walkable. The bed, a queen-sized, was dressed with black sheets - convenient - and two fluffy pillows that spanned half the width of the bed. Brett apparently wasn't too drunk to take most of his clothes off, leaving himself with only boxers that he was close to pulling off, probably stopping at the reminder that I was still here. I could see the moderate amount of hair throughout his torso, the small gut still rolling slightly on itself while sitting, and what seemed to be about five or six tattoos, including the aforementioned scorpion.

"Fully comfortable now?" I asked him in a quiet voice so as to not disturb him.

"I guess."

"Alright," I said as I was turning around to head out "I'll call you in the morning to check up on you --"

"Can you stay?"

"I... well..."

"Do you have work on Saturday?"

"I do not, no, uh..."

"I wanna sleep with you."

"Oh, uh, I'm not douched or prepared, and I didn't bring cond --"

"I'm too drunk for sex, I don't mean it like that. Unless you're into a drunk guy puking on your back."

"God no, I'm not that sleazy."

"That sleazy?"

I stood quiet, kind of flustered. This had never happened to me, I'd never been ashamed of being really kinky. And yet I felt slightly embarrassed that I basically outed myself as a sleazebag to him.

"I just want to have someone to hug tonight." He said, still slurring a bit.

"Alright."

I got out of my clothes and sneaked into the bed with him, turning off the lamp I turned on when getting him in. We cuddled up immediately, as if by instinct, and I could feel the hair on his chest covering my forehead, his right hand holding my lower back, and his left hand serving as a pillow for me. The joint smell of cologne, dried sweat and ethanol filling my lungs in an oddly pleasant way.

"Thank you." He faintly muttered. I fell asleep before I could respond.

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Writer's note: I'm so happy y'all are enjoying this ❤️ I loved writing it, and I'm happy to say the story is fully finished. I think I'll post a new chapter daily, so more people in the future get to read the whole thing and not have to wait. Also, please don't hesitate to give any feedback or questions about the story, good or bad. I want to write more stories like these (maybe one or two more romantic ones and a whole bunch of sick and perverted ones 😉 ), so I'd love to know what I can improve on. By the way, it starts getting more interesting from here, you don't have to wait long. Anyway, enjoy chapter four! ❤️ 

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4.- We weren't married

You've seen it in the movies. The romanticized way of waking up. You naturally get up by the sunrise. The chanting of the birds your only alarm. You wake up against your partner, with them looking at you softly waiting to tell you "Good Morning, My Love". Everything is great. Everyone's great. Not a flaw on sight.

"bleEEURRGGGGHHHhh" 

Yeah, that's not what happened.

From the bathroom in the apartment I heard the loud, dry heaving. I only woke up slightly tired since I went to bed late, but clearly someone else was way more affected by the alcohol than me. And I drank 4x as much as him.

"Shit, I should've given him an Advil before he slept." 

Not sponsored.

I got up from his bed, thankfully vomit-less. I don't bother to put on clothes, I just went to the bathroom door directly. "You alright?"

"Yes, of course, since vomiting bile for an hour is an amazing sign of health." He keeps his sarcastic tone.

"Consider it a cleanse. Californians swear by it." I answered matching his energy. "I'm making you something."

I went straight to the kitchen and attempted mixing whatever fatty ingredients I'm able to find on his fridge. I'd have loved to make him a Full English breakfast, but seeing what he had around he had to settle for a Full American-Liar-Who-Pretends-To-Be-English-To-Appear-Interesting breakfast.

After some minutes, Brett came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, and saw a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and scrambled egg, and a Red Bull. I couldn't find coffee anywhere in his house, so he'll do with that. 

"You made me food?" He asked.

"Yes, I did. You'll eat this if you want to stop feeling horrible."

"I don't get hungry in the morning."

"Then you'll have to deal with your hangover forever, mwahahahah." I 'laughed' in the most deadpan way I could.

"Can't you just get me Tylenol or something?"

"Absolutely not. Horrible combination for your liver."

"I don't think my liver is too happy with me right now anyway."

"Eat."

"Whatever you say, bossman."

We both sat down at his table and I watched him eat. I knew it was working, it always worked for me. You could tell he slowly started feeling less hungover with each bite.

"I'm never drinking again."

"They always say that." I answered, chuckling.

"Did I do anything stupid? What kind of drunk am I?"

"You didn't, don't worry. You're just the sad kind."

"Aw man. I can barely remember anything I said, let alone what I did."

"You said nothing bad, don't worry."

"What did I say?"

"Well, you said what the guy said about you hurt you because you felt insecure, I told you I didn't think you were ugly, you said you were struggling to find dates, you then told me about you being poz, and how you got a tatt---"

"PRFFFT" Brett spit out the gulp of Red Bull he was about to drink all on his table and the remainder of his sandwich.

"You know, I don't think energy drink-infused kraft singles is a good combination."

"I told you what?!?"

"That you felt insecure about your balding?"

"After that."

"That you got a scorpion tattoo?"

"You know what I mean!"

"That you're poz."

"FUCK! I didn't want to tell that to anyone."

I let his anger subside a little before interjecting. Seeing him like this broke my heart. That's new.

"I don't have a problem with that."

"You don't?"

"Nah. Shit happens. It's not like it's still lethal or anything. Insert spiel about 'undetectable equals untransmittable' and similar cheesy catchphrases here."

"Tell that to my ex. He left me two years ago because of it."

"Well, he's an asshole. There's a reason it goes 'In sickness and in health'."

"We weren't married."

"Does it not count?"

"I know he's an asshole. I hate his guts. But I hate the fact that being dirty pushed him away more."

"Stop saying you're dirty."

"I literally have HIV."

"That doesn't make you dirty."

"Then what does that make me?"

"Human."

...

...

There is a long, silenced pause. The silence pierces our eardrums, but does not feel awkward.

"Look," I say to Brett "I'm not going to act like I understand what you're going through. I'm negative. I can imagine there's many bad emotions you have about it and I can't change that. But you don't deserve to treat yourself like this for it. And much less for others to treat you like shit for it."

Brett is looking at me from the other side of the table. His eyes don't look hungover any more, instead, they look wet, teary. It breaks me to see that. I continued.

"You deserve to love yourself, not despite, but in awareness of being poz. And you deserve someone that loves you, again, not despite, but in awareness of you being poz."

"Like you?" He looked at me, then he got suddenly consumed by nerves as he realized what he said.

I thought about it. The implications of me dating him. How quick it would've been, and the responsibility of dating him.

And Me from one year ago would've hated me for saying this;

But I wanted him.

"Yes."

He gets up and grabs me up. And with a deep, passionate kiss, one of a kind I had never experienced before, even without words or questions, the deal was sealed.

He's mine, and I'm his.

 

To be continued...

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Writer’s note: There’s finally sex in this episode. Also, it’s longer than usual. We’re in the second half of the story, and I’m so happy with how you’re reacting to it ❤️ I want to react to all your comments but hey, new user limits. Regardless, I’m glad you’re liking the story thus far. Anyway, enjoy the new episode! 
 

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5- Prince

 

"Casey, I need you." His brown eyes stared down at my soul. "I'm sorry if we're going too fast here, but I know I need you. I've never felt about anyone like I feel about you now."

"Me neither." My hands were wrapped around his lower back, while my head remained tilted up to look at Brett's face. I only noticed now that he's about a head taller than me. "I've never felt love like this. I think I might end up doing something wrong."

“You won’t do anything wrong.”

“I just think that—“

"Don't think, just do."

I knew what we both wanted in that moment.

"Give me a minute."

I ran to the bathroom, grabbed a - conveniently placed - water bottle and did any preparations I needed. It took me about 5 minutes, but I wanted Brett so much at that moment that they felt longer.

Once I got out of the bathroom, I saw Brett, fully naked, with his hands behind his head resting on the headboard. His legs were apart at a small angle. I got to see in better detail his slightly muscular arms, bushy armpits, average build, tattoos in the best lighting I've seen them - including that scorpion, hairy and thick legs, large skinny feet, and of course: a delicious, hard and throbbing penis. It was of modest length, I'd say about six and a half inches, circumcised, mushroom head, surrounded by a large, thick and untrimmed bush and by his low-hanging hairy balls that could probably barely fit my hand. As he saw me, I could see he oozed a small amount of precum. I got rock hard against my briefs at the sight of such a beautiful piece of Man.

It's not the first time I've seen something like this, but that day was special, since I was seeing my sexy boyfriend.

Boyfriend, huh? That's my first. It barely feels real. I, Casey Taylor, token slut of the city, am cuffed up.

"You like it?"

I come out of this small trance, sucking in drool that was about to leave my mouth. "I love it."

"That makes me feel so good, kitten. Thank you."

It's the first time someone calls me 'kitten' and doesn't make me want to pull his balls off his body with my teeth in bloody retribution. What has this man done to me?

"I wanna see the last of you, can you take that off?" He points at my underwear, which now has a huge wet spot. What? I'm very leaky.

I'm a full on exhibitionist - all my friends have seen me naked at least once, and I'm sure my nude pictures are all over the internet at this point - but for the first time I'm feeling nervous about someone looking at me like this.

I take off my briefs, socks, and undershirt; fully revealing my body to him. He gets to see my moderately lean physique, robust and slightly muscular but not hunk-level. All that muscle wrapped in white skin with olive undertones, covered in a similar amount of body hair as him, although fully black coloured instead of blonde. My muscular legs framing my average dick, about five inches in length, also dressed by a shorter but untrimmed bush and hooded by long foreskin that covers my glans even fully erect.

"Fuck, Cay, you're perfect." He said in a husky low voice, only loud enough for me to hear. "Come here."

I obliged, needy for his contact. If that kiss from earlier made me crazy for him, I can't wait to go full insane once we become as intimate as possible.

"Shit, I forgot," He paused for a second, right as I started climbing up the bed. "there's condoms in the lower drawer of the dresser."

"Fuck that." I said as sternly as I can. "I want to feel every millimetre of your cock. I want every ounce of your cum inside me. You're on meds, I'm on PrEP, there is nothing to risk. Please, Brett, I want all of you."

"Are you sure?"

"I absolutely am."

Brett pulled me up for the deepest kiss of my entire life. It was needy and strong, almost a little sloppy, but in the hottest way. Our hands kept caressing each other's torsos. I was above him, so I took the freedom to let him relax and to please him. He was just hungover after all.

I went down and kiss his neck, where it seems to be very sensitive. I gave small, sensual licks slowly. I travelled down to his chest, giving kisses down the middle all to his sternum, where I went back up and made love to his nipples. They're slightly larger than average, maybe from nipple play. I did everything I can think of while engulfing myself on his quiet moans: from slightly rubbing them with my thumb to giving small bites. I travelled down his stomach, licking his trail until I reached his cock. I gave his head a small lick, and stopped.

"What are you into?" I asked.

I'm such a tease.

"What do you mean?"

"Any kinks? Special likes?"

"Surprise me. If I don't like something I'll tell you to stop."

"That's the right answer."

I kept on licking everywhere but his genitals. I gave good attention to his legs, his feet, his toes, back to his chest, gave him another big kiss, down to the armpits, then stomach again, rinse and repeat. I kept on teasing him a bit. I wanted him as horny and cumbrained as possible. And it worked.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and flipped me over in the bed. He was so desperate it even made me bounce on the mattress.

"Fuck you, you teasing little bitch."

"I agree, fuck me."

He goes straight down to my ass, and gave my hairy asshole a deep tongue bath. You'd think he was kissing me with how passionately he was eating me out. It didn't take long for me to dilate (I will say, if there is any truth to what that guy said at the bar, it's that I have a pretty loose hole). He got up from the bed and pulled my head to the side of the bed, hanging from it.

"You asked for this, kitten. If you need to breathe don't hesitate to tap my leg to let me know, understood?"

"Yes babe." I opened my mouth wide and took a deep breath to get my lungs ready.

Brett slid his cut cock into my mouth and was able to pass my throat easily. He was balls deep in my mouth and I got to smell the slightly musky scent of his ballsack, which almost feels psychoactive. He took long, slow, but strong thrusts through my esophagus, letting himself enjoy me, but clearly taking care.

After some more deepthroating, once his cock was covered with plenty of saliva, he slowly slid out of my throat and let me gain back my breath.

"Lie down face up, snack. I wanna see all of you." He ordered me while getting on the bed again, kneeling in front of me.

My already dilated hole clenched in desperation for his penis. He slid it across my asscheeks, soaking my hole and the hair around it with my throat's saliva, and then he slid in immediately inside me. I felt full, but strangely different than usual. Usually I'd get fucked and feel the physical pleasure, but I felt a kind of emotional and psychological pleasure I'd never felt before today.

"That went in quickly. You know, I actually prefer loose holes. Less work."

"Glad you love my hole, babe"

"Can I ask for something weird?"

"Totally."

"Can you call me prince? I always fantasized with a cute boy like you calling me that."

Old me would've found that absolutely cringe and would've probably laughed at his face. But that day’s me... well... I found it so cute and endearing that I almost wanted to cry.

Jesus fuck, this man has broken me.

"Heheh, of course, my prince." I said with the dorkiest laugh. I hate myself.

He grabbed my legs and rested them on his wide shoulders, tilted himself to keep our torsos close, started thrusting slowly, and... remained slow. This never happens, I always get ready for a heavy pounding, almost like the top utterly hates me and wants to annihilate me by his dick alone. But he let me enjoy the moment more, and feel more of him. It was more romantic. And I loved it.

I think we did that for hours, since it got fully dark and I didn't notice until later, his cock still slowly pounding and stretching my hole. We were fully tranced by the love and pleasure of the moment. The whole time we were close, his body laying on mine, saying nothing but moans. We didn't need words.

Seemingly we both left the trance together, because he spoke.

"I wanna cum, kitten."

"Please do it inside."

"Are you sure? Again, not wearing any condom."

"I told you I don't care. I want you to mark me. I want your cum, prince."

At this point, his demeanour changed from worried to dominant. "You want me to breed you?"

"Please, I beg, I want you to breed me. Breed me so hard you get me pregnant."

Even with the lights off, I could tell he winced a bit at that phrase, but I attributed it as a pleasure spasm.

"You asked for it, snack. I'm filling you up."

"Oh, prince, please, I need your sperm!"

Brett is a grunter, apparently. He laid on me, close to my ear and did a couple of very loud grunts that, if I didn't know what was happening, I would've attributed to pain. But that’s so hot to me, so masculine. Slowly, I could feel his hot cum, shooting in batches, softly covering my walls. We stayed in that position for a while, just hugging, feeling his sweat fall on me and our bodies melt together.

When he got so soft inside me that his cock couldn't stay inside for longer, I felt that warm stream of his seed drip down my used hole. It was a heavenly feeling that I never allowed myself to have, always using condoms and all.

After some more minutes, we both laid on the bed, separate but holding hands, our heart rate still high.

"That was the best fuck I've ever had." I said. "I'm still high from it."

"And you haven't even cum."

"I don't need to. I got all the pleasure I needed and more."

"It's my first time having sex with someone else since my diagnosis two years ago. I really missed this."

I cuddle up to his sweaty body, cum still dripping from my hole.

"I love you Brett. I really do."

"I love you too Casey. So fucking much."

"You know, you're actually my first boyfriend."

"Really? Sex crazed Casey never had a man before?"

"Hahah, no. I wasn't interested on one until I met you."

"Well, I hope to be your only one."

"You will. I won't wanna go with anybody else after the way you fucked me today. I don't think I can go back to condoms, either."

"I like to hear that. That pussy feels best raw."

"I don't think rubber would've made that cock justice, either."

"It just feels so freeing to not need one. I don't want to use one ever again with you or someone else, if you'd like to be open."

"I'm down for something open. After this, I wanna be the city's official cumdump!"

We both laughed. We kissed one last time before we just fell asleep. And we lived happily ever after, having tons of bareback sex without having to bother about the poz stuff.

 

Except, no. That's not true.

I kept wondering about it all. Did so much thinking about our relationship throughout the next months and years. Our sex life, and many implications around it. I came to terms with the idea that maybe, just maybe, I'd end up positive too. I didn't mind, if it came from him.

And then 'I didn't mind if it came from him' turned into 'I didn't mind.'. And 'I didn't mind’  turned into 'It wouldn't be horrible'. And, well, you know how I just told you that this man absolutely drove me insane?

'It wouldn't be horrible' turned into 'I want it.'. I loved him so much that I fell in love with every single aspect of him, including his status.

And now, with what I found out yesterday, I might get what I want.

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