I was talking with one of my friends a few nights ago about being gay and coming out and sex in the world of AIDS and all that fun, light conversation when I recounted to her the story of one of my early sexual experiences.
It was in Florida and I was just out of college (mind you I graduated very young and this was, roughly, 1995) and I wound up hooking up with this couple in Daytona Beach and going back to their place. It was a very hot scene and yeah I was young and stupid and did some cocaine with them and was having a great time when one of the guys decided that he wanted to fuck me. Having done both I was like, "Sure what the hell" until I realized he was about to fuck me bareback (for the uninitiated that means without a condom)...
With my legs up in the air, my ass cheeks clenched together to keep him out, and him trying to get in, I whispered, "Are you negative?"
He stopped trying to get inside, looked at his partner, looked at me, nodded his head, then looked back at his partner, back at me, and then told his partner to get a condom.
And then he couldn't perform and it quickly ended after that.
Yep...I killed the mood that night that's for damn sure. I was pretty sure that the guy who was trying to top me was positive and practically lied (can't prove it but it's still a nagging suspicion) so he could a chance at my young, post-college butt but something inside him said to get the condom but even then it was over and done with and he couldn't get it going.
I sometimes think back to that encounter and wonder what could have been had I let him go through with it.
I'm kinda thankful that I will never have to find out or even worry about it.
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