JOSH, TIMMY, AND ME

For over a year now Josh and I have been lovers, Originally we gravitated toward each other like two peas in a pod. He made me realize that, unlike my best friend, Tim, I was a natural Queer—and a Queen at that.

In fact, Josh was my mentor. It was he who first turned me on to the wonderful world of bareback sex—all across this great country of ours. He also brought me face to face with the nether world of HIV and AIDS.

I was well aware that Josh must have been around the block a few times. I presumed he'd been intimate with quite a few men—to have grown so wise at such an early age while most of his peers were still wet behind the ears. And like a sponge I sopped it all up—the Good, the Bad, and the Diseased.

What Josh did not disclose, initially, at least, was that this wise and trusted counselor was POZ. His lame excuse was he didn't want to burden me with some sorry series of events which might or might not occur a decade hence. But in no way did my ignorance alleviate my susceptibility, i.e, sure as hell, the BUG came home to roost.

Sometimes, when I'm popping my Meds, I admire my buddy, Tim, who had the good sense to bow out before I could do him harm. Make no mistake about it—Timmy was Bi alright; but, after he found out I'd seroconverted, he swore off all things Gay—INCLUDING ME. That was a little hard to take. We'd been friends since the fifth grade. We did everything together. We slept over almost every weekend, at his house or at mine—and shared whatever porno mags we could scrounge up. Tim had even introduced me to the manly art of whacking off.

From the beginning I wanted to suck his Dick; but he, the straighter of the two of us, was uncomfortable with that. One afternoon I grew adamant; and after that, I thought for sure our friendship was kaput. But Tim's raging hormones got the best of him, and he kept cuming back for more. You can bet I never let him down.

Alas, afterwards he always swore "NEVER AGAIN!" But, inevitably, he got hard again; and I was always there to succor him.

We made out in his garage. A threadbare sofa covered with a worn old afghan throw served as our makeshift bed. One thing led to another, and I wanted to get fucked. I began to hint that there might be something more than just barebones oral sex.

One night, while Tim was up at the house scrounging up some old Playboys, I squeezed a whole tube of KY up my Butt, then stripped and waited in the dark. When Tim got back, I scooped a gob from between my legs and massaged it on his Cock. He took the hint.

Thankfully, he wasn't very large--maybe six inches, thin. Next thing I knew his Dick eased up my Hole—not far—but feeling three times fatter than it really was. I begged him to ease up; but the pain did not abate, and I doubted gettin' fucked would turn out to be that great.

But by then my Virgin Cunt and his Terror of a Teenage Cock were hell-bent on a collision course. He fucked me slowly; and I began to moan and pushed back to meet his Meat.

"Feels fuckin' good," he conceded halfheartedly, his enthusiasm dampened by his warped belief that nothing good could cum of sex like ours.

Nonetheless I purposefully taunted him, using my Ass Muscles to titillate his slimy dick. He responded—pumping faster, deeper. For me it was a strange amalgamum of pain and pleasure as his Dick grew ever thicker up my Ass. I knew he was close, and wanted more than anything to feel his hot Slime penetrate my Cunt.

But when he started shooting, slamming in and out, the pain nearly bowled me off my feet. Heeding only the insatiable tingling in his Balls, and oblivious to my disgruntlement, he plowed in arduously, spewing Wad after Wad of Oversexed Teen Seed up my Virgin Cunt. By then he was gliding home on a carpet of his own Spooge and slowed only as he ejaculated his last few drops of Jizz. I'd been jacking my own Cock and shot my Creamy Brew all over the ancient throw. When he pulled out, his hot NEG Spooge ran down my NEG Ass Crack.

*****************************************************

We were standing there breathless when we heard a voice beyond the pale. It was Tim's neighbor, Josh, who wanted in.

Tim was apoplectic, and I saw why. There was a quarter size knot hole in the boarded up window from beyond which the voice came. His neighbor could have witnessed the whole thing. It was after midnight, and Tim didn't want his parents coming out to see what the ruckus was.

We stood there naked, hoping the pest would go away; but he started pounding on the door. Afraid of wakening his slumbering parents, Tim stumbled to the door and opened it.

We knew right away we were in deep shit. Josh sashayed in, grinning ear to ear, spewing poppycock about how love is blind. He must have spied on us before, because he knew I always did the sucking—not the other way around. Tim looked forlorn as Josh ranted on about "love birds like youse." I thought Tim was gonna puke.

When Josh started carrying on about how I turned him on, I knew where he was cuming from and cut abruptly to the chase.

I told Tim to go to the house and make sure his folks were still asleep, and I'd catch up with him after I had "a little talk" with Josh. Relieved, he pounced on my pro-offered out, never looking back. With a swaggering bravado I didn't feel, I locked us in.

*****************************************************

The Fag had already untied his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and dropped his pants—and sat on the sofa, nude, but for his piss-stained briefs. An intriguing bulge protruded beneath his fly, and he sat there brazenly caressing it.

"How often does Timmy fuck your Ass?"

I told him this had been the first time ever. I'm not sure that he bought into that, but he seemed emboldened nonetheless. He told me to undress and dropped his soiled briefs upon the floor.

"Aw, cumon! Don't look so glum. I'm not forcing you or anything. Someday you're gonna thank me for tonight."

Resigned to sacrificing myself for Timmy's ass (or so I rationalized), I played the game. As I pulled off my shirt and dropped my pants, I was aware the Queer was ogling me. He grasped my hands and dragged me over in front of him, and wrapped his arms about my waist.

He was actually trembling as his digits explored my Hole. "I know you want it." He pushed me down. "Suck it!"

I responded noncommittally.

Tim's Cock was cut and always smelled, well, almost perfumed. The first thing I noticed about Josh was his musky, unwashed smell. His Dick was short and fat and had a heavy roll of foreskin covering the head. He was a light-skinned Mexican, but his straining blood-filled Cock ranged from almost black down towards the base to blue-purple at the Slit. His Nuts were huge and hung down between his legs like two cue balls in a hairy, silken pouch. I reached up and touched them, and they were fiery hot!

"SUCK ME, BABY!" he repeated as he peeled the foreskin back. A telltale wad of crystal Precum glimmered on the tip.

Experimentally I licked it off and took him in my mouth. Hmmmm! Delectable! So glycerin and sweet! His beer can girth was way wider than Tim’s, but I kept working him down my throat.

"Oh you suck like a Little Bitch!" His nerdy hands urged me to take him all. My gag reflex kicked in.

"SUCK ME, LITTLE BITCH!"

I got turned on.

"GET ME HARD SO I CAN FUCK YOUR ASS!"

His vile talk, his huge Balls, and the manly scents emanating from his groin got the best of me. I didn't quibble when he pulled out and demanded I bend over the couch. Tim's Cock, thin as it was, had proven almost been too much for me. The overall experience had been an curious amalgam of pleasure and pain—and Josh was just as long—but twice the girth! But it wasn't pain I anticipated as Josh threatened to fuck my Hole. Hot damn! I wanted it! I glanced back and saw his rigid Pole aimed provocatively at my Cunt. Additional jewels of scintillating PreCum shivered impatiently on his Slit.

"Bet I slide in real easy, Boy."

Without warning, he twisted me about face up, then pushed me down till my horny lips just inches from his drooling Cock. Then climbing over me, he lifted my dangling calves to his broad shoulders and....

"And this is how I fuck a Little Bitch!"

Everything was different that go-round. Tim had never manhandled me, though I often wished he had. Always the gentleman, our sex verged on parody, with me worried about pleasing him and he concerned with causing me pain and the guilt he knew would beset him later on. Timmy had entered me very cautiously, though at my own behest. In all the afternoons and nights in his garage, he'd never once touched my Cock, and always told me when he was gonna cum so I could spit it out—which I never did. And afterwards he'd pay the price. It was the man-man thing that bothered him, and he couldn't help himself. So self-doubt was his cross to bear. I, for my part, wanted sex to be good for both of us; and if it wasn't, I blamed myself.

But Josh was a man on a mission, and that mission was to breed my Ass! His hands were all over me, stimulating, tweaking. A steady stream of bile spewed forth from his lips. I was his "Bitch," his "Pussyboy;" and he was gonna "breed me hard and deep!'"

Yeah, it was only the second Fuck of my entire life—my first real one, at that—and a part of me was scared to death, But another part was SO TURNED ON! His Cock Head pressed against my Hole, and it felt so big and hard. He teased it up and down my Ass Crack, spreading his Toxic Venom on my skin.

"You want it, doncha, Lover Boy?"

YES, I WANTED IT! My heart was racing. He stopped feeling me up and pushed on in. He wasn't gentle and didn't go slow. I don't think he even stopped till he was halfway in. The pain was horrendous, and I tried to ward him off. But he had the leverage, experience, and resolve. He was ripping me apart!

"Your Pussy is so fuckin' tight and hot and full a Cum! I gotta personally thank Timmy for that. OK with you?"

"Cut the crap and get this over with!"

Obliviously, he rambled on. "I can tell him you're my Bitch now?"

As obsessed as I was with the unfamiliar fullness up my Ass, and in no mood to play his diabolical little game, I uttered no response.

He moaned and plowed in deeper. I said a silent prayer of thanks that I had Timmy's Cum in me—which made an otherwise impossible situation bearable. After all, it was only the second fuck of my entire life.

Josh was already in way deeper than Tim had been, and it felt like he was gettin' off nonstop. But before I knew it, I was pumpin' back! In a strange, masochistic sort of way, it felt so good! He started pounding me harder, his hairy Balls bouncing off my Butt. At last, when I was totally impaled, he bent down to kiss me and his big Dick spasmed.

"YOU WANT IT UP YER PUSSY. DONCHA, BOY?"

I suppose, because he was POZ—my acquiescence was crucial to absolving him of any nefarious intent. After all, if the boy (i.e. me) volunteered to play the game, how could he be oblivious to the possibility of STDs? And didn't the promiscuous little Manslut have it cuming anyway?

In retrospect I'm sure he had a helluva lot more in mind than just spoogin' up my Cunt. I think he was counting on his parasite piggybacking up my Butt.

I almost panicked when he made like pulling out.

"Tim can fuck you if you want, but from now on you're my Pussy Boy. Agreed?"

I totally caved, whereupon, he viciously plowed back in, devoid of any sentiment except PURE UNADULTERATED LUST.

"YOU NEED IT BAD, DONCHA, BOY?"

Again, the need for confirmation of my complicity—and I gave him what he craved. Who was kidding whom? For guys like us, HIV is almost a birthright. Confident that that I was mere putty in his hands, his blatant disregard for my sore Hole was almost ludicrous as he plowed in and out.

"You fuckin' Pussy! Your Cunt's so fuckin' tight! I'm gonna bust your Butt! You can always pass it on to Timmy, if you wish!"

But I didn't wish. At that point, during only the second Fuck of my career, seroconversion was the furthest thing from my mind, let alone POZZING Timmy boy. No! It took me several years of bareback sex before I began to think along those lines.

Meanwhile, he plowed into me like there was no tomorrow, and the baritone venom that spewed forth from between his purple lips grew ever fouler as he got close. Josh was indeed the ideal mentor for a naive and, as of yet, uninoculated novice like me.

For my part, I careened between peaks and valleys of pain and pleasure. Yet both of us were close. Soon his diseased Nut filled my gut to overflowing. His Bug-laden Jizm infiltrated my willing Pussy, which had relaxed to welcome everything he had to offer, as he glided in and out.

AND LO AND BEHOLD, THE PAIN WAS GONE!

At last the jerking and spasming of his twitching Cock diminished, and he pulled out with a satisfied wet plunk. His hot Poison Spunk dribbled from my butchered Cunt, and soon pink creamy gobs contaminated by my Mancunt blood, blushed rosy on the concrete floor.

Josh made the final overture. “A good Pussy Boy always cleans up his mess."

He shoved his shriveled cum-coated Cock against my ever ready lips. Large lumpy wads of Poison Seed adhered to his Dick, and a thick ooze of Toxic Brew dribbled two inches down his foreskin toward my parted lips.

Grateful for the second opportunity, I greedily engulfed that monstrous Tool, sucking his Toxic Manshaft clean. I had already fallen victim to that sick, obsessive state where I just couldn't get enough.

Afterwards, as I lay on the sofa sore and drained, he dressed, demanding we meet again that night.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I know you wouldn't. You can still service Timmy if you wish. Just keep in mind you're my Boy now."

I nodded in the affirmative. `

*****************************************************

After he left, Tim, who had been watching from the house, came in, looking for all the world devastated by his cowardice. Little did he know I'd been transformed.

Nonetheless I cried and wept and carried on like I'd just been raped—and sheepishly he embraced me, and we cuddled—and, for the first time ever—he kissed me on the lips. I not so subtly telegraphed there was only one way he could make it up to me; and, for the second time that night, he fucked my needy Ass.

Actually he didn't require much persuasion. I do believe he was growing fond of it. But the deed was done—my seroconversion was underway, and Timmy, habitually a day late and a dollar short, would have to settle for sloppy seconds ever on.

Not realizing he was dipping his wick in a polluted cesspool of POZ CUM—like the kind and empathetic friend he was—he slid right in--on a blanket of Josh's POISON JIZZ.

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