Boning Corrie

By Dan Atlanta

Published on Sep 4, 2018

Gay

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Boning Corry Part 1

Part One is the set-up for subsequent stories. Parts of this are 100% true and autobiographical, whilst other portions are pure fiction. References to real people are not intended.

Be in control of your own sexual health; do not rely on the integrity or knowledge of your parter(s).


I was in the UK recently for about a month whilst on a consulting project. But this was a trip I made with great trepidation and anxiety because, you see, I have a ghost from my past haunting me to this day in South London. He haunts me at home in my American city where his power is in a much-weakened state. Sometimes I forget about him. But he is always at my side, during the day, during the night. He is especially mischievous at night. And so, as I prepared to travel to England, I feared his vicious malevolent power over me whilst I was in his back yard, sowing my seed, as men do. As my jet crossed the Atlantic, I felt his dead, icy kiss on my cheek, ?Welcome back. I?ve been expecting you.?

I have always loved London. The Vibe. The History. The Look. The Guys.

My first visit was when I was about 18 years old on a trip with a straight buddy, whom I lusted after unsuccessfully, but that is a story for another time maybe. Over the years, London has changed so much in some ways, and not at all in others. Some of its character has faded with all the bland and pretentious corporate towers built of greed and arrogance by those who have bartered away their souls. One of the reasons I loved London was that it was on a human scale. Not so anymore. But the guys are still fun and piggy although not as uninhibited as Berlin Men, who are my favorite.

As for me, I'm a professional guy and look to be in my mid 40's, athletic and muscular, about 5-9 and I am very sexually active and uninhibited. I've had every STI out there and I get tested and treated regularly. Some would call me a slut, and they might be right. I enjoy sex as a man should. I have a thick cut cock and a 2 gauge Prince Albert that most guys enjoy having fucked into them once they get past the initial surprise of cock jewelry. Considering how many cocks I have had up my hole, my ass is still tight as a drum and I have a muscle butt. My app profile status says that I use "treatment as prevention" but I stopped my meds about two years ago. So far, I?m healthy. I also have not used condoms since I seroconverted almost 15 years ago.

Before all that, I fell in love with a man while I was in Munich on a business trip. Our meeting was intended to just be two men, brought together by the wizardry (at the time) of GayRomeo, briefly coupling for pleasure and then moving on to the next liaison. Unfortunately, we both ended up falling for each other and we started a relationship cursed to result in abject failure.

The morning after our first night in Munich, I left his Marriott to return to my hotel across the river next to the park where the famous October Fest is held. I had not intended to stay overnight with a trick, but I ended up waking the next morning spooned with one of his arms wrapped around me. After wrapping my cock in latex (as was my practice at the time), I fucked my first load of the new morning into Trey. He invited me to stay for breakfast but I had to beat a hasty departure because I had a train to catch to Frankfurt. As the ICE train raced to Frankfurt, I received an email on my laptop from him. ?I can still smell your scent. I can?t get you off my mind. Can we get together again?? was all he said to trigger the chemical reaction in my brain that leads to that undefinable strong-as-steel connection between two human beings. What. The. Fuck.

Trey is a midwestern American farm boy with a keen intellect, charisma and an education to match, who grew disenchanted with the USA and decided to try his luck in Europe. I was a Yank who had family commitments at home that prevented me from relocating for the next few years. We had many memorable trips together, spent vacations together and plenty of phone time. My parents, who have both died in the intervening years, could not understand why I did not spend every one of my vacations visiting them. They were both in very poor health and they resurrected my Catholic guilt and nailed me to my very own cross with it.

A new job relocated the love of my life to London, and we made many happy memories there because I regularly travelled to the UK for my work. I would tell him was going to take the tube to his place, but he?d meet me at Paddington with flowers instead (I?m not a flowers type of guy, but damn, that man is romantic).

We had no illusions about sexual fidelity or anything like that. In fact, when we spoke on the phone, we traded stories about our latest play friends.

After a year or so, it sunk into Trey?s realization that I was not joking when I said I had family obligations keeping me in America for a few more years. He told me we could not go on together with us being an ocean apart. He was right, of course. I hated it that he was right. What. The. Fuck.

I started to date and play with other guys, and privately, quietly mourned my broken heart.

Then, I was pozzed. I had been seeing Andres for a month or two. Andres is a Columbian guy who is not at all my type and totally wrong for me in every way possible. I knew that at the time. He triggered that chemical nuclear bomb in my brain and I wanted him. I had to have him. I had to drink him in. What. The. Fuck.

Andres is a charming devil, whom I wish I had never met. Maybe you know the type: he does something vile and reprehensible and you are done with him for good this time; then says he?s sorry and gives you a smile and he melts your glacial heart. Truly, a dangerous mother fucker. Clearly, I was willfully blind to his innumerable faults. All the more so when he started to dabble in hard core drugs. I ain?t talking about weed, kiddies. I was concerned but passed it off as a one-off thing, such as an imbecile does when rationalizing something he does not wish to accept as fact.

It was summertime and a Pride celebration was going on in my city. At the time, there were still a lot of gay bars and clubs. So, he and I went to a big dance party. I had to get up for work the next morning, and wasn?t drinking, nor was Andres. However, he gave me his Gatorade and told me to take a big swig. I didn?t think anything of it until about 15 minutes later when I realized I needed his cock in me. Now. ?What the fuck was in the drink Andres?? I asked. ?Have you ever taken G before?? he asked back. No actually, I had not.

We went back to my place and jumped into bed. I went down on his uncut cock like a starving man. After ten minutes of sucking, Andres said, ?I need to fuck you.? Without a condom in sight (a first for me), and with him laying on his back, I sat on his uncut cock and started riding him. He reached around and was pinching my nipples and jacking my cock. Just as he was jacking a load out of me, I felt a warm flood in my guts. I had just taken my first load. I had just taken my first poz load.

Two weeks later I had the flu. Funny. The flu in the middle of summer. Funny.

Andres dumped me. I wasn?t happy about it.

Nine weeks later, I had my regularly scheduled physical check-up. Three days later I got a letter in the mail from my doctor that I needed to set a follow-up appointment because my HIV test had come back positive. I was numb.

Andres. I needed to tell him to get checked. Surely, he doesn?t know. He couldn?t know. I arranged to meet him after work and he reluctantly agreed. Let?s just say that he was not surprised by my news. Actually, he was a total dick about it. His only concern was that he might get deported. I told him I wasn?t going to turn him in and that was the last conversation I ever had with him.

The next person I told was Trey. He was really concerned. I told him I was on meds and that my doc said I?d be fine and I?d live to be a grumpy old man.

I told him the thing that really bothered me after the initial shock was that I heard a door closing. As I verbalized this for the first time, the words echoed like Big Ben?s Bell inside my head. A Door Closing. He was stunned into silence.

Continued.

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