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Mr. Johnson Bred His Buddy


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My mother always said my heart was too big for my own good.  She didn’t understand why I did so much volunteer work. I didn’t understand how other people didn't. While young women always want to work with kids, young men, I've found, have fewer volunteering opportunities, so when I found I enjoyed sharing time with the elderly, I stuck with it. When they didn’t get visitors often, I would come and spent a day with them. I always did stuff like that. When I read the advertisement from Mr. Johnson, a 62 year old who had AIDS and was looking for a gay friendly buddy, I didn’t think twice - I applied.

Mr. Johnson was a real silver daddy with a friendly smile. “You don’t mind that I’m gay?” he asked me when we met.

"No, of course not," I replied, "I’m also gay."

Smiling, Mr. Johnson replied “Then it’s not awkward when I say you’re a handsome fellow.” We both laughed. There was a real click between us. Perhaps because we were both gay and knew the lifestyle and the prejudice... and the sex. Mr. Johnson said he was an avid barebacker back in the day, which was, of course, the reason he contracted HIV. He admitted that he didn’t stop having raw sex after he was tested positive. “Some men just don’t care” he explained, “they just want to enjoy. They want to feel the meat and not the rubber.”   Then he asked if I had ever done it without a condom.

“Yeah I have,” I admitted, “when I was a teenager and fooled around with boys of my own age I knew were disease free I didn’t bother, but when I grew older and met older guys I did start using condoms."

I also had a steady boyfriend for a while who fucked me raw, but I never visited the sleazy places Mr. Johnson had frequented. He told me all about the crazy sex parties he attended, that he had tried watersports, fisting, s&m, several types of drugs. How he was a frequent visitor of baths and adult theaters. He didn’t have any regrets about his sex life, although he was sad it wasn’t as active as it used to be. Without shame he said how he bought gay porno mags and had several adult dvds, and on one occasion he asked “Want to see them?”, as if it was the most normal thing to show. I declined, not out of disinterest, but because it would be a little bit too awkward.

Mr Johnson was a charming man and we hung out quite a lot. Instead of being just a buddy for him we were becoming real friends. Sometimes I did have the feeling Mr. Johnson was flirting with me. Whenever I went over i would fing gay magazines or dvds on the table or couch. He didn't even bother to hide them from me. Whenever we sat behind a computer I could see the tabs of pornsites like silverdaddies and barebackrt. The worst part was that it didn't bother me. I started to like this little game he was playing, mostly because I never met someone who was courting me like that.

Never the less, I was quite aware Mr Johnson was growing increasingly bold in his attempts to woo me. I noticed his bulge more frequently in the shorts he wore, but especially when he wore sweatpants. The thin fabric showed clearly the outline of his cock and he probably didn't wear any underwear underneath them. I even suspected that he was deliberately trying to get a hard on before he opened the door to greet me. This was actually really inappropriate behavior, but it was effective. I always looked at his bulge and he knew it. Every now and then he reached for his crotch, to adjust the dick in his pants or give it another stroke to keep it hard. The scary thing was that I could't stop thinking about what he would come up with next. I imagined that one day I would come in his house, to find him masturbating in front of the TV or computer. Or how he wanted to go for a swim and decided to hop in the same changing room, because the others were already occupied. My cock would get hard thinking about how Mr. Johnson would seduce me and finally would show his cock. I wasn't even wondering if he would do it, I was already in the phase where I wanted him to show me.

The night that changed everything started with supper at Mr. Johnson's place. After we were done he proposed to sit on the couch to watch some TV. So far he had behaved himself, but when I sat down the show began. "You know, I'm pretty sweaty, do you mind if I would take a shower?" he asked. I didn't mind at all and wondered what his plan was. Would he ask me to take a shower too? Would he ask me to join him? However Mr. Johnson never asked me to go upstairs with him.  Instead, while he showered I watched TV.  I noticed a gay dvd cover on the coffee table. A big blurb on the cover said 100% BAREBACK. I opened it and there wasn't a disc in it. My guess was that Mr Johnson was watching it or had watched it recently.

When Mr Johnson came downstairs he was only wearing a bathrobe. "Do you mind if I wear these? I didn't want to dress again and it's a bit cooler" he reasoned. I didn't mind. I was waiting until his robe would 'accidently' fall open so I would be confronted by his cock. When Mr Johnson sat next to me my heart pounded in my chest. "What are you watching?" he asked.

"Oh nothing, I was looking at something else" and l looked at the dvd cover. "

Ah you saw the cover. Yeah I was watching it, didn't finish it because... wel you know" he smiled. Yeah I knew what he meant, he was jerking off when watching and after he came he stopped the film. "It's all I can do these days" he said, "I mean I would rather do the real thing, but in my condition it's not so easy to find a partner."

He was none to subtle:  Mr. Johnson was reminding me (i) he had a condition, (ii) in fact he had AIDS, (iii)  most people would find it difficult to simply be a friend to him, let alone having sex with him.  Of course I felt some sympathy with his experience as an outcast.  It seemed to me such a sweet man should be able to have sex like normal people do. "How's your love life?" he asked suddenly asked bluntly.

Well... I don't really have a love life" I admitted, "I spend most of my time on school and in the weekends I'm usually here."

"And I appreciate that," Mr Johnson said, "I really do." When he said that he leaned over and gave me a warm kiss.  

He was a great kisser and unlike every other guys I've kissed he gave me lots of tongue and ample spit.  Now, I am a 'closed-eyes-kisser', so I hadn't noticed that, while we were kissing, he had opened his bathrobe, but I understood as much when he guided my hand to his throbbing cock.  When I felt the warm shaft I opened my eyes and finally saw the cock about which I had been fantasizing.  

Mr Johnson's dick was large and uncut and on the base of his cock was a big metal cockring. His foreskin almost covered the head completely and was so tight you could see exactly the outline of his bulbous knob end. It made his dick look even more enormous. I began stroking his cock while still being French kissed. Mr Johnson reached under my shirt and started pinching my nipples. He wasn't really gentle about it and my nipples were soon sore.

"Suck me" he whispered in my ear, "I want you to suck me". Silently, I bent over towards his dick. It was already leaking precum which I lapped up first, ignoring how noxious the contents was. I did my best to pull his foreskin back, to expose more of his purple knob. I wrapped my lips around it and started blowing Mr. Johnson. While I was bobbing up and down I was thinking how nice it was of me to service his cock, to do this great sexual favor of an old man. I assumed it was a while since his last blowjob so I wanted to give him a good one. "Take of your clothes honey, let me eat your pussy" Mr. Johnson said. Soon I sat on the couch with my legs wide, while Mr Johnson was crouching between them to slobber all over my ass. His oral treatment of my rectum was a new experience for me.  His tongue flicked between my crack and in my ass, making it slippery. Mr Johnson then replaced his soft tongue for one of his rugged fingers. It didn't feel nice at all, even a bit painful. I grabbed his hand to withdraw his finger from my ass and nodded at the silver daddy to make clear I didn't like it. "Just opening you up sweety" he explained, "but if you don't want it...."   He didn't finish the sentence but placed his fucker against my pucker and pushed.

"Mr Johnson!" I gasped, "We should't do this!". "Yes we do, yes we do. I want to fuck you, please let me fuck you," pleaded Mr Johnson. I wasn't complaining about getting shafted, but I didn't want to do it raw with someone who had AIDs! "You should use a condom" I warned, but Mr Johnson had his reply ready: "I haven't fucked in ages, I don't have condoms honey. This might be my last fuck, and I don't want it spoiled by rubbers. Please let me feel your warm hole, enjoy a hole the natural way, the way it's supposed to be enjoyed. You want to support me don't you?". All kinds of thoughts were racing trough my mind, would I deny this man's last sexual request, was I a bad buddy if I didn't let him fuck me, what would be the risk of a one time AIDS buggering?

Mr Johnson saw me think and he used the time to keep dicking me. His huge knob was teasing my sphincter, making it open a bit more every time it slid past. The wonderful feeling of his tool invading my bowels distracted me from thinking clear. Even tough it were only a few seconds since Mr Johnson gave his plea, it felt like minutes, it felt like I didn't have to answer anymore, my silence was consent. The cold metal of his cockring touched my butt. "Thank you son,"  Mr Johnson said, not expecting an answer anymore, "I appreciate this and I'm going to make it good for you too."  He leaned towards my face again and kissed me, this time not with lust but with passion.

I wrapped my arms around him and whispered "Fuck me, give me your last load." 

Mr Johnson gloated and started to pick up the pace. He had finally received permission to once again bareback a young hole.

Mr Johnson was grunting as he was plowing my ass, holding my legs by the ankles to keep them apart. So many things were new for me this night: the kissing, the rimming, the age of my lover was almost three times as much as my normal sexpartners, the position, the location (before this I only had sex in my bedroom). Suddenly Mr Johnson withdrew his fuckmeat, leaving my hole gasping to be filled again."Turn around" was the command and I obliged. With my ass in the air facing him, Mr Johnson spat a bit above my gaping rectum and used two fingers to rub it over my poopchute. He crammed his saliva coated fingers in my tender ass and I groaned. Like the first time he stuck a digit in me it hurt. I once again had to grasp his hand to push it away. My ass didn't feel as lubricated as after the intense rimjob he gave me earlier and when I got penetrated again it just didn't feel as nice. "We need more lube" I said and the old man pulled some lube from the pocket of his robe. Guess he was better prepared than I thought. He squirted a copious amount of lubrication between my crack, which felt very cold but when his shaft forced it's way trough my rosebud my bowels were burning.

My elderly fucker was really slamming my ass now, giving everything he got. I was really enjoying it even more when it got verbal. "I love fucking your ass son, I never thought I would that's why it's so special. You like me pounding you ass?". "Uh hu", I grunted. "You've been eying my buldge for so long now, I swear i sometimes saw you drool when you saw it. This is what you always wanted eh, my dirty shitstabber in your shitsocket. I'm going to cum soon, I'm going to give you some aidsbabies." "Don't say that" I snapped, "don't say those things". My mind already was screaming "THIS MAN HAS AIDS, STOP NOW" I didn't need him reminding me, almost humiliating me with the fact I let this sick man fuck me raw. "Cum on my back, I don't want you to cum inside me." "Too late honey, I'm cumming, I'm cumming." With one last thrust Mr. Johnson unloaded his lethal spooge in my healthy ass. He was panting after he bred me "That was great honey" he said while kissing my back, "Did you enjoy it too?". "Yeah I guess" I said. "You don't know for sure?" Mr Johnson asked. I really didn't. I mean the fuck itself was wonderful, but the toxic breeding he gave me wasn't.

He finally withdrew from my ass and replaced it with something else. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm plugging your hole honey." was the answer I got, like it was the most normal thing to do. "With what?" "It's just a buttplug." "But why?" Up until that point I had never used a buttplug before, "please get it out." The old bastard must have planned this from the beginning, no way he just happened to have a buttplug in one of his pockets. "I want to use my cum for lube for our next fuck." "What are you talking about?" The old man said: "It's already late, I thought you could spent the night and have a quick fuck before we slept. I want to make it good for you too and since you wasn't satisfied by this one. Maybe the bedroom is a better place for making love."

I'm not sure how he convinced me but I did spent the night with him. We did fuck before we slept and again he bred me. He wanted me to wear his buttplug for the entire night, but I objected. The next morning I wanted to leave early but Mr Johnson acted like a lovesick puppy, wanting to shower with me (which he did and assfucked me there as well), wanting me to have breakfast with him (which I did while I had to sit on his cock), wanting me to stay with him for another day, having sex all the time. I was a bit taken back with his sudden change in attitude. I can't deny I really liked hanging out with him and maybe have some sort of feelings for him (otherwise I would've never let him fuck me), but I wasn't in love. Mr Johnson on the other hand really seemed to have butterflies in his stomach. I didn't know how to say to him I didn't have the same feelings for him, so I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Besides my ass was really sore of all the buttsex I received in the past hours. Around noon I finally went home, leaving Mr Johnson behind with the idea we were real lovers.

I didn't have contact with Mr Johnson for some time. The sex had changed our relationship. For me it was just a one-off (well actually four-off) thing, but I didn't know if Mr Johnson thought the same. It surprised me that he didn't bother to contact me as well, especially considering his clingy behaviour the last time I saw him. When my ass developed a rash I went to a clinic. Of course they asked me if I had unsafe sex recently and with a tremble in my voice I said yes. The doctor advised me to take an HIV test. I called Mr Johnson to tell him about my visit to the clinic. He asked me if I blamed him. I said I didn't and that it was a conscious decision to sleep with him (even though I did ask him not to cum inside me). He never said he was sorry for my situation and after the phonecall we never met again. Every time I asked if he wanted to meet he was busy or not feeling well. The man who once was looking for a buddy and who loved my companion didn't need me anymore. Being optimistic I thought he did feel guilty about my situation and didn't want to confront me.

A few months later I got the terrible news I was positive. I was advised to notify my last sexpartner. "My last sexpartner already had aids" I said soft. The doctor was surprised to hear I slept with a man with aids and wondered why I did it. He said I wasn't obliged to tell, but he was curious if there was some sort of underground sex group I was a part of. He met several other boys in the past few months who all contracted HIV from sleeping with a man with aids and wondered if it was connected. I explained I wasn't part of a group or a chaser and that the man who gifted me was a nice man. "Nice men don't give other men HIV" the doctor said stoic. When I left the clinic I wondered if Mr Johnson had set me up, if he played some twisted game to give me this horrible disease. I got the answer a few days later when I stumbled upon an ad: "Elderly man with aids is looking for gay friendly buddy."

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