THE PLOT
OK. I'm conceited.
I'm a totally Hot Jock. I
am 21, and a total Hottie. I work
out 5-7 times a week. I have an
awesome chest and abs. I'm
normally a Bottom and love to get plowed hard. I'm also bi, once had a girlfriend, and currently shack up
with my 19 year old Lover, Ty. My
girlfriend freaked when she found out I was a Fag, but I had special plans for
her.
My Lover is a preppy Kid, who once was
kept by a rich old Sugar Fart.
Daddy or not, we had this arrangement where we took care of each
other—sexually, that is.
I myself have taken Cock up the Ass for
3 years now—and a helluva lot of POZ Cum.
Five months ago I tested POZ myself.
I fell in love with my little Bimbo,
Ty; but Sugar Daddy kept getting in the way, so I had to break them up.
One night, I filed my fingernail pointy
and jabbed it up Ty's Hole hard. When I pulled out, my Index was bloody. I took a deep breath (remember,
I'm a total Bottom) and rammed my Cock up Tyler all the way. God, how that Y.M. squealed! I hadn't used any Lube on purpose.
"Oh shit! I forgot," I lied,
soothing him.
When he grew aroused again, I shot a huge POZ Wad up Tyler's Ass. Again I wiggled in my filed Digit in,
scraping him until he bled.
Four months later, I announced that I
had Herpes.
"Geez, Ty, maybe you oughta get tested, just in
case..." I never had
Herpes in my life.
Ty got tested, and two weeks later got
an official diagnosis of HIV.
He couldn't figure out where or from whom he'd contracted it. He correctly surmised it was from
me. Oops!
I ordered one of those mail-in test
kits and dropped it off with a NEG Bud.
My address was on the return label.
When I got a letter notifying me the
results were in, I gave it to Tyler.
He called the number, and punched in the code. Naturally, I'd tested NEG. Reluctantly I intimated that
it must have been Sugar Daddy who'd POZZED him. But Ty vehemently rejected that, maintaining, beyond
all shadow of a doubt, that Sugar Daddy was too impotent to play around.
That weekend I helped Ty, still upset
over being POZ,
get stoned and drunk. I drove him
to a Tattoo Parlor where I convinced him the only way to escape the doldrums
was to face the facts—as in having "CUM SLUT" tattooed between his
shoulder blades and "POZ" between
his Nips.
He freaked out when his new Tats saw
the light of day. Sugar Daddy
would kick him out and blab to all the world about his Status.
I suggested a preemptive strike—that he
leave Sugar Daddy before he found out and move in with me. I explained I loved him so, it didn't
really matter to me that he was POZ. To cork it all off, I got down on my knees
and sucked him off. That clinched
it! The Little Slut bought my B.S.
hook, line, and sinker.
My girlfriend was the final obstacle. She just couldn't fathom how two men
could fall in love. Her constant
nagging and hostility toward Ty were unconscionable. I had no choice but to invoke PLAN 4.
Step 1: I made sure she knew that Ty was POZ.
Step 2: I
arranged a little get-together, plying both with booze and pot, so
neither would recollect who'd fucked whom.
Step 3: I gave her the same nail
treatment I'd used on Ty.
Step 4: When (Praise the Lord!) she tested POZ, I dumped the Bitch, accusing her of cheating
on me with (whom else, of course?) my
best friend, Ty.