For what he did not know did not hurt him, but I found great pleasure in taking what I felt was mine.
He had handed me a condom — no words were spoken. He simply handed me the prophylaxis still contained in it’s wrapper. He bent over, presenting his ass to me, like a female baboon presents to the alpha male. I made no agreement.
He hands me a condom. By this act, is it suddenly my obligation to have safer sex? Is there some quixotic power that requires me to abide by the rules he sets? Yet he’s turned his back, presented his ass and isn’t looking at me, confirming I’m even tearing the packet open.
I took his ass. I never bothered to put on the condom.
I never knew his name. Fuck, I couldn’t recall his face if I tried. I might remember his ass, perhaps if my raw cock entered him again. The sensation of his chute ,exquisite in its tightness and the slight curve up. Soft and delicate. Warm and moist. I don’t think I was the first man to enter him that evening.
Did I have some obligation? By handing me a condom, am I to compromise my choice never to use plastic to cover my cock and deny me the sensation of my genetic material entering a man’s ass? He never asked me. We never spoke. He never checked.
We were standing in the dusky light of an adult bookstore. I don’t care two shits about the man. He is a method by which I will relieve my need to release seed. I don’t even care whether he gets off. He’s slightly better than my right hand. I’ve not asked him whether he’s got any sexually transmitted infections either. He handed me a condom though. Perhaps that’s his hint there’s a bug lurking in his ass.
Who’s to say what’s lurking inside my ball sack as my sperm pumps inside him? As my bodily fluids flow into this ass, like thousands of others I’ve fucked before. I’ve told neither you, dear reader, nor the bottom I’m fucking if there’s a virus or anything unclean about me. Who’s to say I bring any harm to this man who so eagerly presents his ass to someone he’s met less than five minutes earlier.
What moral obligation do I have? Any? We made no contract. There’s no legally binding language between us. We stand on neutral ground in a place where both of us seek nothing more than a moment’s pleasure.
Take it just a step further.
What if I were at a gloryhole? What if he puts a condom on me then plants his ass against that hole in the wood between us? He’s sucked dozens of cocks, presented his ass to hard cocks all night long and now it’s my turn.
I slip the condom off. I fuck him raw. If he is a decent bottom, he should know the difference. It certainly feels like I’m not the first person to enter this hole raw from my view point.
A month later, six months later, a year later… he gets tested and the results are the same as before.
Have I committed some wrongdoing? If the tests are different, how could this man who lets anyone and practically everyone fuck him in an adult bookstore know it was me or someone else?
Why do some people attempt to assign some sort of moral code to what’s right and what’s wrong with fucking?
The Debate that Just Won’t Fade Away
Bareback porn videographer Cristian Knox and I have debated this issue for some time. The porn company, Treasure Island Media, recently reproduced one of my blog entries from our debate from a while back. And Cristian went on a bit of a rant about it again just yesterday. Of course he derided my recent 10 tips on stealthing.
Cristian writes in his post on July 3:
A now mainstream, recognisable pornography company, in the business to make money, supporting the deceptive actions of a person advising his readers on how to potentially harm others against their will? On top of this, making content that fetishises and revels in the depiction of misleading people during sex. We don’t believe them for a second, but at least the big corporations have the humanity to PRETEND they could give a shit about other people. Perhaps I am hoping for too much from my fellow gays/queers/humans, but something very desperate and sad is happening here.
I have to admit that Cristian might have finally taken that swan dive off the deep end. I’m so very sad to see it since, overall, I find him quite respectable and an upright person. I am left with these questions:
- When did Treasure Island Media ever become a mainstream pornography company?
- Wouldn’t barebacking itself be considered a way to “potentially harm others”?
- How am I doing anything “against their will”? I’m not holding a single person down.
- No offense, but pornography is all about misleading the viewer to enhance the fantasy, is it not?
- Please advise me which corporations in the UK are pretending to give a shit about people because I don’t think there’s that many in the US.
If the porn company is finally integrating stealthing into its movies, it’s about damn time. I’ve been advocating some bareback porn company do it (along with some other ideas I’ve got where gay porn needs to go). Cristian, in fact, says that the US division of TIM has gotten a bit stagnant.
I’d suggest it’s not just TIM but all porn. How many pizza deliveries, locker rooms and bathroom encounters do we need? Porn must evolve.
Jeez, Treasure Island Media blazed the trail for bareback and reality porn in the first place, Cristian. I doubt you’d be doing what you do without it. Pushing the boundaries of the taboo finds a tradition in porn. Not too long ago, we’d be debating incest or piss.
Cristian knows good and well that TIM, as well as other porn companies, films for fantasy. That’s what produces money. We certainly know that the performers in TIM movies aren’t all seroconcordant. In fact, well-known top star Brad McGuire is HIV negative while the ultimate bottom Dawson is positive (in fact, McGuire’s in a serodiscordant relationship).
Next Time on Law & Order: HIV
This has never been a question of legality, as fellow bareback blogger Josh Landale suggested on Twitter when he linked to his piece on the legal questions of disclosing one’s HIV status.
I do not think it is a legal question. Rape didn’t occur. Whomever would be considered the victim would knowingly have to transmit a disease with the malicious intent of infecting the victim. I have no malicious intent. If I feel anything, it’s little more than indifference.
Figuring out it had to be me would first have to conclude that I have some disease, which I’ve not said I do. The bottom would also have to prove he’s disease free and his frequent visits to an adult bookstore assuredly didn’t get caused by any other encounter.
The so-called victim isn’t forced to have sex with me. He chooses to do so voluntarily. Any make no mistake: I never agree verbally or otherwise to wear a condom. I choose to take my own risk.
Finally, one must prove that what I am doing is ultimately dangerous to whom I am doing it and that what I do outweighs any danger I put myself in. I offer no proof and they offer no proof.
We are both in an adult establishment engaging in risky sexual behaviors with multiple partners and choosing to do so without discussion of any reasonable substance. In the American justice system, I think we’re at a wash.
No Dough for You
Allow me to make a couple of points: While my pieces do occasionally appear on TreasureIslandBlog.com, I am not compensated in any way. Fuck, TIM hasn’t done so much as to send me a t-shirt or even let me watch a movie for free online.
If you can say anything, the only love I get is a little traffic from their site to mine. But I also send some to them.I wonder how many?
I’m trying a bit of advertising support for the blog and, gosh darn it, during a good month I earned $40.
Since I drive a hybrid, it’s enough to buy me one tank of gas with a little left over for a soda and a snack.
In other words, no one gives a shit whether I write this stuff or not. The fact is TIM’s TreasureIslandBlog.com and other sites like BreedingZone.com asked to use my content and I gave them permission. I don’t get compensated other than the reciprocal traffic that flows back and forth between our websites.
There are people who have actually met me — beyond the people who’ve ended up with my cock in their ass. They might speak up as to the type of person I am.
I’d like to say this blog is some sort of labor of love, but it’s more because I need the catharsis. It’s my release.
If you choose to just blindly hate me, go ahead. The line forms to the left. I’ve got plenty of folks who do. But take a moment to actually read what I’m saying and let it sink it. Ask yourself where this so-called moral line you draw actually exists.
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