For Pete's Sake
For the record, Petey's now in his
50's, widowed, POZ,
sleazy as ever, with a sickly, emaciated bod. I remember him from when I was a Teen. Everyone advised me to avoid him.
“He's POZ and into fucking bare. So keep your distance.
Stay away."
I did for a while—avoid him—till I
discovered “XtremeSex.” At first I was sickened by the
now defunct Web Site. I mean how fucking evil is that—to
deliberately POZ
someone? But then I realized why I
was so repulsed. GIFT GIVING and
BUG CHASING actually appealed to me.
Yeah, I know that not all POZ men are totally up front about their Status,
but “XtremeSex” went much further than that. It championed deliberately infecting others
with the Bug. Still NEG myself, I grew intrigued and obsessed with
the concept of GIFT GIVING. I beat off to increasingly
grotesque fantasies of breeding and getting bred. Still I doubted such practitioners
actually existed—till I met Pete.
I'd seen him lurking in the bushes and
hanging around the tearooms. I'd
read all the graffiti about him.
At the time I'd discounted all those dire scribblings as the delirious
ranting of some vengeful old Queen.
But was Petey a genuine Gift
Giver? Not technically, for he did
reveal his Status, albeit reluctantly, for fear of scaring off potential
lovers. Then there was the sorry
saga of his lover. Poor Bitch died of AIDS because of Petey. Never even had a clue.
It was ironic that Petey spread his Ass
for every Queer who came along, but never missed an opportunity to Top. Though
in his latter years he mostly bottomed, I had numerous opportunities to take
his POZ Seed. The first few times were Glory Hole
Sex, till I got up the guts to introduce myself. After that we forged a kind of
apprenticeship. He was the
teacher and I, the student.
I learned my lessons well.
I think deep down I always wanted
him—from the moment I first laid eyes on him. I guess back then I never deemed it possible that a NEG would deliberately seek out POZ.
I
haven't seen Petey around for ages. A month ago a pal of mine saw him teetering down
Sycamore, looking more frail and
sickly than usual. Guess the Bug is
finally taking a toll, as it will of all of us someday. I think about all the times he
bred me, and have to smile at the vision of the Old Fart withering away.
Hey, POZ Dude, get off your
High-Horse! Good riddance to that
Pharmaceutical Cocktail! What the
fuck are you afraid of? Let's see
who kicks the bucket first. Is it
gonna be Death
by AIDS or Death by Meds or Death by Something Else? Pick your
Poison, Dude.