Preacher Man Has VD

“Preacher Man” is a married minister of a large, nearby congregation who I fuck sometimes. His sexual urges are insatiable. He can go for hours.

And he travels a great deal, using his time away from home to take on all comers. Sometimes I wonder whether he practices safe sex with a condom on at all times. On Wednesday I discovered apparently not.

He sent a text message on my phone, urging me to call him immediately. No one was around so I did.

“I just got some bad news from the doctor,” he said. “He took a blood test and found out I have syphilis. I didn’t even know I had it.”

I stayed calm. I had had sex with him about two weeks before but wore a condom. Still, he had sucked my dick very briefly. Syphilis can be transmitted through oral sex.

“Okay, I’ll go to my doctor tomorrow and get checked out,” I said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

I didn’t worry that I might have given the disease to my wife. We agreed to separate months ago and have not had sex since then. We are friendly and cordial and keep the house running but as I have written before our marriage is on the way out. I am grateful I don’t have to tell her I gave her something nasty.

The next day I went to see “Dr. Freeland.” He has been my doctor for years and I am open to him about my sexual habits. Freeland, who I think just separated from his wife, is sympathetic.He advises me on how to stay safe and doesn’t hesitate to give me tests if I need them.

So I told him about the syphilis incident with a sex partner and he drew blood to take the test. I have small veins and giving blood can be torture. But he is so good at it I barely feel the needle pinch into my arm.

“The test should be back by Friday,” he says.

He examines me. “I don’t think you have it. You would have known by now,” he said. “But remember, keep that dick wrapped up.”

I know he will call me if I have the disease and prescribe antibiotics over the phone. Otherwise I won’t hear from him. Two days have passed and no phone call so I know I am clear.

Being down-low and getting sex can be fun but this incident brought home the risks. If a minister can expose you to a venereal disease anybody can.

In the four or five days since Preacher Man called I haven’t wanted to have sex at all. I’m turning them down right and left.

This has cooled me down, which is a good thing. It’s God telling me it’s time to get my life in order and do the right thing for once.

Friendly Skies

A lot of down-low men hook up while they are away on business travel. In fact, I think many of these men take such jobs so they will have an excuse to be away from the wife and kids.

Earlier this week I had such a hookup. I met “Calvin” online while I was working from home. He had flown into a nearby airport for a business meeting and had some time on his hands. Would I mind coming over and fucking the hell out of him?

When I arrived at his room and hour and a half later he welcomed me in and told me to sit down and be comfortable because he had to make some phone calls. He handed me the remote control to the flat screen TV and invited me watch whatever I wanted.

Calvin is a small-built, brown-skinned black guy. I doubt he is taller than five feet seven or so. Handsome, very masculine and all-business. He was hot to imagine he could be in a boardroom meeting early in the day and getting banged by a man in his hotel room just hours later.

Calvin got on the phone with a woman. He said she was just a friend. But I could tell he was lying. He had a wedding band with diamonds on his left hand. And the woman kept calling back, nagging him about how to go online to make a doctor’s appointment and quizzing him about whether this or that bill was paid.

So I knew it was his wife. Only wives did shit like that, rarely girlfriends.

After he got off the phone the fucking commenced. Calvin was what I call a “power bottom” — a male who likes to take dick but is not passive in the act. He was like a director making his own private porno movie.

We did some foreplay for awhile and then he was ready to put my long dick in his plump, bubble-shaped ass.

“Ooooh, you don’t know how good that dick feels,” he moaned after I managed to fit it in him. “Fuck me harder.”

I pounded him into the bed missionary style, his legs splayed to allow me to dig in deeper. I have never seen a guy enjoy getting fucked so much before. Goose pimples erupted all over Calvin’s chest, his eyeballs rolled back in his head and his eyelids flickered like he was in a trance. I could literally feel his ass muscles trembling around my dick.

“Fuck me in the mirror now,” he commanded me. So we got up and walked to the foyer of his hotel room, stood in front of a mirror hanging on the wall and kept going, fucking standing up with me behind him. I lifted his right leg so he could see the reflection of my dick snaking into him.

“Damn, look at that — that’s hot,” Calvin said.

Then we moved back to the bed and I fucked him on the edge with his face down on the mattress. To get more leverage I braced my feet against the wall behind the bed and use my legs to push my dick into his ass, which by now was wet and loose.

“Where do you want to cum on me,” he asked. “You can come on my face, wherever you want.”

So I made him kneel on the floor between the two queen-sized beds in his room and jerked off while he nibbled my thighs and lapped his tongue on my balls. I soon busted a load of hot creamy nutt all over his shoulders.

He showed his appreciation by cumming just moments later, jerking off his small, curved penis.

Calvin said he would be back in town in a few weeks. Maybe we will hook up again.