Conversion
- 3 years ago
- 26
- 0
Conversion Party free porn video
This is a story about a Conversion Party I found in the web (not my story - but I wish this for me)
It's been a little over two years now since I got the letter that changed my life. Like any other day, I came home from work and checked the mail. There was a hand-printed envelope on linen paper. I opened all the other mail first, saving the best for last.
Inside was an invitation to a weekend party. It was from Tom, a guy I’d met at the baths. Tom was an easy-going sort, who made me to open up to him. Among other things, I admitted that I found conversion stories sexy and appealing.
Tom told me he was POZ. By legal definition, he had AIDS, but to look at him you’d never know. Seeing him fucking and sucking at the baths made me want to be like him and POZ.
I’d fantasied about getting AIDS and passing it to others, more than I cared to admit. Up till then my fantasies had been confined to my imagination. They could hardly have been otherwise, since I was neg.
But now I had a invitation to a weekend party of his. It emphasised a group of “POSITIVELY-MINDED MEN,” and " BAREBACK SEX." No misinterpreting that. It was a Conversion Party.
My dick was hard and dripping. No way could I turn that down. A weekend with a group of horny guys into HIV and AIDS! Fuck, yeah, I wanted to attend! The invitation was RSVP. I called Tom up and told him I was coming.
The party was three weeks off. I daydreamed about it constantly, replaying my twisted fantasies in my mind. I told myself I was headed for a king-size let-down. But it could turn out to be the kind of sick symposium I’d dreamt about.
The party was set for Friday night till Sunday noon. The invitation said clothing would be checked at the door, so I needn’t worry about what to wear. I'm decent looking guy and in good shape, so I didn’t expect I’d disappoint anyone. And, judging from what I’d seen at the baths, Tom’s tastes in men and mine were similar. The others in attendance would be at least a pleasant eyeful.
I told my lover I’d be gone till Sunday noon. We have a really open relationship. We’ve teased each other about who’s the bigger whore, and who'd be the first to catch an STD and pass it to the other.
I rang the doorbell, and this cute little guy about my age opened up. He was wearing only briefs, which did little to mask his heavy cock and balls.
" I'm Mike. And you are?"
"I’m Joey."
He picked up a list of attendees.
"Got it." He crossed off my name and pointed to a door.
"You can undress in there, and I'll lock up your clothes and valuables. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve been doing this for three years now and haven’t lost a hankie.”
I entered the bathroom off the hall and slid out of my jeans, sneakers, and polo-shirt. The house was well-appointed and expensive.
I returned to the hall wearing only my briefs and found Mike greeting a little doll of a boy who looked no older than 20 or 21. His name was Sam.
Mike introduced us . “Give me your briefs,” he said. "Everyone else is nude. I'm just wearing since I’ve got to answer the door."
His extended hand waited for my underwear.
The guys appraised me as I stripped.
My dick had grown semi-hard, and Sam was titillated.
"I gotta get a piece of that before I leave. Sure hope you’re one of those.”
Sam entered the bathroom to undress, not closing the door as I had.
Mike winked as he folded my clothes.
I wondered what Sam meant by "one of those."
Mike told me to go on back and join the others.
“You won’t have any trouble finding them. Straight down the hall. Just listen for the music and the voices.”
A dozen guys were lounging about, sitting, standing, lying, drinks in hand, talking and laughing. A quick assessment told me I'd been right. They were all quite nice.
One guy was fiftyish, a daddy-type for sure. Another looked like a high school k**. And everyone else was somewhere in-between. But they had one thing in common. They were all appealing—good-looking, healthy (I supposed), sexy, American males.
A couple of the guys came up and introduced themselves. One handed me a beer. Another pointed to the joints on the table. I noticed Sam, now nude, had entered and was socialising.
Guys were still arriving. And some were getting pretty soused. Personally, I hadn't had much to eat and the cocktail and the weed quickly took its toll. I suspected others were feeling likewise.
About that time Tom appeared. Apparently he'd been waiting for the last guest to arrive, because Mike, the greeter, came in behind him. Tom turned down the music and called for quiet.
He welcomed everyone and said he was glad we could attend.
"You all know what we’re here for, and that’s lots of good sex. But apart from that, I know a lot of you have personal objectives. You know who you are—so I won’t go into that.
I hate to restate the obvious, but there are ground rules. Oral is okay, but stick primarily to fucking. Make sure when you cum, it’s in someone’s ass. . Switch positions often—and I don't mean missionary and doggie-style.”
Guys giggled nervously.
"I mean be top as well as bottom. Give as well as you get. Share your seed. Change partners often. Don’t do the same guy twice till you’ve done us all. Charge up as many guys as possible. Take as much ass-cum as you can. And anyone found in the possession of a condom will be asked to leave.”
"There are 20 of us here, not counting me. 12 of you are neg, and 8 are poz. That puts the odds at 40% of taking a charged load. Don’t ask anyone his status nor reveal your own, which could change at any minute."
I felt my knees go weak. This was a party planned around RAW FUCKING with guys into AIDS and HIV, an assemblage of Gift Givers and Bug Chasers. These guys, like me, were out to fuck and be fucked raw, HIV and AIDS be damned.
"Don’t be too quick to wash the cum out of your ass. But bath and shower, replete with towels, are down the hall and on the right. There’s also the john where you came in and one downstairs. The den has porn vids running continuously. Same with the rec room in the basement. Both are good places to catch a catnap. You’ll find plenty of snacks in the kitchen, but please avoid that area between 7 and 8 AM and 4 and 5 tomorrow. That’s when the caterers come in.
“As most of you know, there’s a variety of lube and weed and poppers at the bar. Do anything and anyone you like."
Tom’s last risque remark sparked a massive, marathon orgy. Guys were pairing up everywhere. They were piling onto couches and the pillows and mats that lined the carpet.
A hungry hand groped my ass, and I turned around to find Mike, the greeter.
"Ready for some action, stud?" His throbbing cock betrayed concupiscence.
"Sure am."
We wound our way past a maze of tangled bodies to a vacant mattress in the corner. He fell on top of me, and his dickhead probed my ass.
He hastily smeared some lube on me, and used the rest to coat his cock. With two powerful thrusts he entered me then paused as I absorbed his fullness. Our lips connected; our tongues entwined.
He slid his big dick in and out of me. He fucked with slow, deliberate strokes, almost entirely withdrawing before plunging in me to the hilt. I matched him stroke for stroke, meeting his invading shaft with my eager cum-hungry ass. I wanted to milk the cream out of this man. I moaned in lust for the d-i-s-e-a-s-e.
"Fuck me, Mike. I want it," I said between his thrusts.
"What do you want, Joey?" he asked as he pulsed into me. "Tell me what you really want."
"I WANT YOUR POZ CUM, MAN. I WANT YOU TO PUMP ME FULL OF H-I-V!"
That sent him over the edge. His pounding became furious.
"YOU’RE SO FUCKIN’ TWISTED, MAN. YOU WANT MY VENOM IN YOUR ASS.”
"Well take it, then!"
"Shit, yeah, Mike. Cream my ass! Please shoot in me!"
He lunged forth viciously as his thick cock spasmed in my hole. Hot blasts of noxious seed violated my guts. The deadly virus invaded me with every fiery jab. I ground my buttocks against him to absorb his lethal load.
He stopped, hips jutted forward, his dick impaling me as far as it would go. We lay there in the aftermath.
Quietly he said, "You're pretty obvious about being NEG. Don’t give it away. Everyone here wants POZ JIZZ, either to infect or reinfect them. Keep ‘em guessing. Don’t disappoint by letting them know you’re neg. You may not be much longer."
With that he pulled out and wandered off, seeking someone else to poz or be pozzed by.
I didn't waste time worrying about his status. If not him, then someone else would do me, I was sure. Ravenous, with unfulfilled carnality, I approached the bar in hope a beer might quench my prurient thirst. A fortyish guy did the same. After a minute of small talk, he cut to the chase.
"You wanna fuck or be fucked first?"
"I want to fuck you, dude,” I said. I gotta get this load up someone's ass before I cum."
Unceremoniously we made our way to a mat, and he raised his legs to take my seed. I imagined I was poz and was infecting him. For all he knew I was. Regardless, the tight man cunt beneath his balls proved a succulent receptacle.
It didn't take me long to shoot. We traded places and his dick slid easily in my cum-lubed hole. As he drew close I licked the purple bruises on his neck. Wet with spittle they seemed to glow. KS lesions? Probably. The guy had AIDS.
Suddenly inspired I pummelled my ass against his pubes to meet the penetration of his noxious cock. And when I felt him tensing, I ground my ass against him, to suck out every drop of toxic cum.
He winked at me as he withdrew, but I clasped my hands behind his back and wouldn’t let him go. He knelt there, staring down at me, a cynical smile transfiguring his face.
He held his right arm out to me, palm up and turned away, revealing a large lesion, halfway between his armpit and his elbow. He pressed it to my lips, and I began to lick and suck it till the skin around it reddened.
He stood straight up, his ankles planted firmly against my ribs. His cock, now shrunken to a fraction of its former mass, spewed forth a golden stream aimed directly at my gaping mouth, but raining down on neck and shoulders, dribbling past my ears and pits, onto the surface of the rubber mat. The guys around us applauded.
His defecation done, he set out in pursuit of other pleasures. Hastily I retrieved a towel to dry myself and the urine from the mat.
From there, the party blurred—whether from the weed, or beer, or lack of nourishment, or merely from the aberrant thrill of being a participant in such decadent behaviour—I cannot tell.
For the next 36 hours I fucked and got fucked by guys at least as debauched as I. It became obvious, as time went by, from casual conversations and off-the-cuff remarks—I was in good company—with men as hell-bent on self-annihilation as myself.
As the party went on and guys got spent. A lot of us were eating or dozing or merely watching, and only a few were actively fucking as the rest of us egged them on.
When I fucked before the group, I heard them urge the top to poison me. I wondered if there was a single neg present who had escaped at least one charged load. I was soon to get an answer.
Near noon on Sunday Tom had each poz guy stand up for accolades.
7 of my 15 loads were POZ. The second guy I’d fucked, the guy who pissed on me, actually did have AIDS. My rod ballooned as I as I recalled each episode.
The young man, Sam, hadn't been so fortunate.. He was the sole participant who had managed to avoid every poz guy present.
Defiantly, he lay down before the group and raised his legs. He dared any Giver to step forward and pump a charged load in him.
Tom intervened before anyone could react. “Being poz the longest and having fucked the least, I figure I deserve first crack at you.”
We all cheered as our host plowed into Sam. After Tom, a couple other poz guys mounted him, in what turned out to be, for Sam, a very effective climax.
Tom reminded us that, in a week or two, we might get sick. He’d hosted these poz parties annually for the past three years, and we’d be invited back. He kept a roster of similar affairs with other groups and individuals. If anyone remained unconverted, a rematch was available, with himself or one of his poz buddies. He urged us lucky ones to share the seed, overtly or covertly. I took his words to heart.
12 days later I fell ill and stayed home from work. In the coming months I was a nervous wreck till I got my test results.
. That evening I had my dick up my boyfriend’s ass as usual, in the intimate fuck you do with someone you've screwed a hundred times.
"I got my test results back today."
He flinched, but kept on fucking.
"So you’re pozzing me?"
"I guess."
We kissed, as he pushed up to accept my jizz and welcome the inevitable. His acquiescence turned me on. I must have spewed a cup of venom into him.
It's been a little over two years now since I got the letter that changed my life. Like any other day, I came home from work and checked the mail. There was a hand-printed envelope on linen paper. I opened all the other mail first, saving the best for last.
Inside was an invitation to a weekend party. It was from Tom, a guy I’d met at the baths. Tom was an easy-going sort, who made me to open up to him. Among other things, I admitted that I found conversion stories sexy and appealing.
Tom told me he was POZ. By legal definition, he had AIDS, but to look at him you’d never know. Seeing him fucking and sucking at the baths made me want to be like him and POZ.
I’d fantasied about getting AIDS and passing it to others, more than I cared to admit. Up till then my fantasies had been confined to my imagination. They could hardly have been otherwise, since I was neg.
But now I had a invitation to a weekend party of his. It emphasised a group of “POSITIVELY-MINDED MEN,” and " BAREBACK SEX." No misinterpreting that. It was a Conversion Party.
My dick was hard and dripping. No way could I turn that down. A weekend with a group of horny guys into HIV and AIDS! Fuck, yeah, I wanted to attend! The invitation was RSVP. I called Tom up and told him I was coming.
The party was three weeks off. I daydreamed about it constantly, replaying my twisted fantasies in my mind. I told myself I was headed for a king-size let-down. But it could turn out to be the kind of sick symposium I’d dreamt about.
The party was set for Friday night till Sunday noon. The invitation said clothing would be checked at the door, so I needn’t worry about what to wear. I'm decent looking guy and in good shape, so I didn’t expect I’d disappoint anyone. And, judging from what I’d seen at the baths, Tom’s tastes in men and mine were similar. The others in attendance would be at least a pleasant eyeful.
I told my lover I’d be gone till Sunday noon. We have a really open relationship. We’ve teased each other about who’s the bigger whore, and who'd be the first to catch an STD and pass it to the other.
I rang the doorbell, and this cute little guy about my age opened up. He was wearing only briefs, which did little to mask his heavy cock and balls.
" I'm Mike. And you are?"
"I’m Joey."
He picked up a list of attendees.
"Got it." He crossed off my name and pointed to a door.
"You can undress in there, and I'll lock up your clothes and valuables. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve been doing this for three years now and haven’t lost a hankie.”
I entered the bathroom off the hall and slid out of my jeans, sneakers, and polo-shirt. The house was well-appointed and expensive.
I returned to the hall wearing only my briefs and found Mike greeting a little doll of a boy who looked no older than 20 or 21. His name was Sam.
Mike introduced us . “Give me your briefs,” he said. "Everyone else is nude. I'm just wearing since I’ve got to answer the door."
His extended hand waited for my underwear.
The guys appraised me as I stripped.
My dick had grown semi-hard, and Sam was titillated.
"I gotta get a piece of that before I leave. Sure hope you’re one of those.”
Sam entered the bathroom to undress, not closing the door as I had.
Mike winked as he folded my clothes.
I wondered what Sam meant by "one of those."
Mike told me to go on back and join the others.
“You won’t have any trouble finding them. Straight down the hall. Just listen for the music and the voices.”
A dozen guys were lounging about, sitting, standing, lying, drinks in hand, talking and laughing. A quick assessment told me I'd been right. They were all quite nice.
One guy was fiftyish, a daddy-type for sure. Another looked like a high school k**. And everyone else was somewhere in-between. But they had one thing in common. They were all appealing—good-looking, healthy (I supposed), sexy, American males.
A couple of the guys came up and introduced themselves. One handed me a beer. Another pointed to the joints on the table. I noticed Sam, now nude, had entered and was socialising.
Guys were still arriving. And some were getting pretty soused. Personally, I hadn't had much to eat and the cocktail and the weed quickly took its toll. I suspected others were feeling likewise.
About that time Tom appeared. Apparently he'd been waiting for the last guest to arrive, because Mike, the greeter, came in behind him. Tom turned down the music and called for quiet.
He welcomed everyone and said he was glad we could attend.
"You all know what we’re here for, and that’s lots of good sex. But apart from that, I know a lot of you have personal objectives. You know who you are—so I won’t go into that.
I hate to restate the obvious, but there are ground rules. Oral is okay, but stick primarily to fucking. Make sure when you cum, it’s in someone’s ass. . Switch positions often—and I don't mean missionary and doggie-style.”
Guys giggled nervously.
"I mean be top as well as bottom. Give as well as you get. Share your seed. Change partners often. Don’t do the same guy twice till you’ve done us all. Charge up as many guys as possible. Take as much ass-cum as you can. And anyone found in the possession of a condom will be asked to leave.”
"There are 20 of us here, not counting me. 12 of you are neg, and 8 are poz. That puts the odds at 40% of taking a charged load. Don’t ask anyone his status nor reveal your own, which could change at any minute."
I felt my knees go weak. This was a party planned around RAW FUCKING with guys into AIDS and HIV, an assemblage of Gift Givers and Bug Chasers. These guys, like me, were out to fuck and be fucked raw, HIV and AIDS be damned.
"Don’t be too quick to wash the cum out of your ass. But bath and shower, replete with towels, are down the hall and on the right. There’s also the john where you came in and one downstairs. The den has porn vids running continuously. Same with the rec room in the basement. Both are good places to catch a catnap. You’ll find plenty of snacks in the kitchen, but please avoid that area between 7 and 8 AM and 4 and 5 tomorrow. That’s when the caterers come in.
“As most of you know, there’s a variety of lube and weed and poppers at the bar. Do anything and anyone you like."
Tom’s last risque remark sparked a massive, marathon orgy. Guys were pairing up everywhere. They were piling onto couches and the pillows and mats that lined the carpet.
A hungry hand groped my ass, and I turned around to find Mike, the greeter.
"Ready for some action, stud?" His throbbing cock betrayed concupiscence.
"Sure am."
We wound our way past a maze of tangled bodies to a vacant mattress in the corner. He fell on top of me, and his dickhead probed my ass.
He hastily smeared some lube on me, and used the rest to coat his cock. With two powerful thrusts he entered me then paused as I absorbed his fullness. Our lips connected; our tongues entwined.
He slid his big dick in and out of me. He fucked with slow, deliberate strokes, almost entirely withdrawing before plunging in me to the hilt. I matched him stroke for stroke, meeting his invading shaft with my eager cum-hungry ass. I wanted to milk the cream out of this man. I moaned in lust for the d-i-s-e-a-s-e.
"Fuck me, Mike. I want it," I said between his thrusts.
"What do you want, Joey?" he asked as he pulsed into me. "Tell me what you really want."
"I WANT YOUR POZ CUM, MAN. I WANT YOU TO PUMP ME FULL OF H-I-V!"
That sent him over the edge. His pounding became furious.
"YOU’RE SO FUCKIN’ TWISTED, MAN. YOU WANT MY VENOM IN YOUR ASS.”
"Well take it, then!"
"Shit, yeah, Mike. Cream my ass! Please shoot in me!"
He lunged forth viciously as his thick cock spasmed in my hole. Hot blasts of noxious seed violated my guts. The deadly virus invaded me with every fiery jab. I ground my buttocks against him to absorb his lethal load.
He stopped, hips jutted forward, his dick impaling me as far as it would go. We lay there in the aftermath.
Quietly he said, "You're pretty obvious about being NEG. Don’t give it away. Everyone here wants POZ JIZZ, either to infect or reinfect them. Keep ‘em guessing. Don’t disappoint by letting them know you’re neg. You may not be much longer."
With that he pulled out and wandered off, seeking someone else to poz or be pozzed by.
I didn't waste time worrying about his status. If not him, then someone else would do me, I was sure. Ravenous, with unfulfilled carnality, I approached the bar in hope a beer might quench my prurient thirst. A fortyish guy did the same. After a minute of small talk, he cut to the chase.
"You wanna fuck or be fucked first?"
"I want to fuck you, dude,” I said. I gotta get this load up someone's ass before I cum."
Unceremoniously we made our way to a mat, and he raised his legs to take my seed. I imagined I was poz and was infecting him. For all he knew I was. Regardless, the tight man cunt beneath his balls proved a succulent receptacle.
It didn't take me long to shoot. We traded places and his dick slid easily in my cum-lubed hole. As he drew close I licked the purple bruises on his neck. Wet with spittle they seemed to glow. KS lesions? Probably. The guy had AIDS.
Suddenly inspired I pummelled my ass against his pubes to meet the penetration of his noxious cock. And when I felt him tensing, I ground my ass against him, to suck out every drop of toxic cum.
He winked at me as he withdrew, but I clasped my hands behind his back and wouldn’t let him go. He knelt there, staring down at me, a cynical smile transfiguring his face.
He held his right arm out to me, palm up and turned away, revealing a large lesion, halfway between his armpit and his elbow. He pressed it to my lips, and I began to lick and suck it till the skin around it reddened.
He stood straight up, his ankles planted firmly against my ribs. His cock, now shrunken to a fraction of its former mass, spewed forth a golden stream aimed directly at my gaping mouth, but raining down on neck and shoulders, dribbling past my ears and pits, onto the surface of the rubber mat. The guys around us applauded.
His defecation done, he set out in pursuit of other pleasures. Hastily I retrieved a towel to dry myself and the urine from the mat.
From there, the party blurred—whether from the weed, or beer, or lack of nourishment, or merely from the aberrant thrill of being a participant in such decadent behaviour—I cannot tell.
For the next 36 hours I fucked and got fucked by guys at least as debauched as I. It became obvious, as time went by, from casual conversations and off-the-cuff remarks—I was in good company—with men as hell-bent on self-annihilation as myself.
As the party went on and guys got spent. A lot of us were eating or dozing or merely watching, and only a few were actively fucking as the rest of us egged them on.
When I fucked before the group, I heard them urge the top to poison me. I wondered if there was a single neg present who had escaped at least one charged load. I was soon to get an answer.
Near noon on Sunday Tom had each poz guy stand up for accolades.
7 of my 15 loads were POZ. The second guy I’d fucked, the guy who pissed on me, actually did have AIDS. My rod ballooned as I as I recalled each episode.
The young man, Sam, hadn't been so fortunate.. He was the sole participant who had managed to avoid every poz guy present.
Defiantly, he lay down before the group and raised his legs. He dared any Giver to step forward and pump a charged load in him.
Tom intervened before anyone could react. “Being poz the longest and having fucked the least, I figure I deserve first crack at you.”
We all cheered as our host plowed into Sam. After Tom, a couple other poz guys mounted him, in what turned out to be, for Sam, a very effective climax.
Tom reminded us that, in a week or two, we might get sick. He’d hosted these poz parties annually for the past three years, and we’d be invited back. He kept a roster of similar affairs with other groups and individuals. If anyone remained unconverted, a rematch was available, with himself or one of his poz buddies. He urged us lucky ones to share the seed, overtly or covertly. I took his words to heart.
12 days later I fell ill and stayed home from work. In the coming months I was a nervous wreck till I got my test results.
. That evening I had my dick up my boyfriend’s ass as usual, in the intimate fuck you do with someone you've screwed a hundred times.
"I got my test results back today."
He flinched, but kept on fucking.
"So you’re pozzing me?"
"I guess."
We kissed, as he pushed up to accept my jizz and welcome the inevitable. His acquiescence turned me on. I must have spewed a cup of venom into him.
Latisha
- 25.11.2021
- 32
- 0
