Date: Mon, 23 Sep 2002 08:05:17 +1000
From: Iain Robertson <iainlthr@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dave - chapter 3

Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't
have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If
homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not
continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but
you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the
usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken
with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your
obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may
inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be
answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com.


Dave

	Iainlthr@hotmail.com

Chapter Three --  False start??

Steve and I stayed together for another three months after the night that I
bumped into Dave again at that bar. We tried, really we did. But as
wonderful as our sex life was, outside of the bedroom we seemed to be less
and less alike as time went on.

He struggled at the small intimate dinner parties I loved so much, did all
he could to keep up his side of the conversation, but just seemed to lose
interest. When we went to the theatre he would go through the programme,
reading all about the show beforehand, and attempting to follow the plot,
but invariably his eyes would droop and his head nod forward well before the
final curtain.

For my part, I did my best to sit through the smash-em-up movies he loved
without wriggling like a cat on a hot tin roof. And I honestly tried to get
the hang of football. I read up on the rules, watched the sports reports on
TV, and went along with him and his mates to the home games, but somehow I
always managed to miss the crucial move, or to cheer at exactly the wrong
time.

After each and every failed attempt at socialising together, Steve and I
made up for the awkwardness with passionate love making, taking each other
to places mere mortals only dreamed of. He was, without doubt, the best
lover I had ever known. The things he did to me and for me were
unbelievable, sending me to the highest peaks of sexual bliss over and over
again. And, all modesty aside, he proclaimed that I was his perfect partner,
that no-one could come close to me when it came to ultimate erotic
excitement.

As the weeks and months slipped by, we spent less and less time together
except for our escapades in bed. I knew in my mind that this wasn't right,
that we needed to part if either of us was to find true love, but whenever I
determined to raise the subject with Steve, my resolve would melt way with
the first touches of his fingers on my neck, and the feel of his tongue
against my lips. My head said no, but my body ached for the delights he
bestowed.

It was late August, and the cold winds of winter showed no indication of
letting up, when I decided it was time to call an end to our relationship.
Steve had gone to the footy -- it was an important game with the season
drawing to a close -- and I had arranged to meet him at his place around
7.00. By habit, I checked the results, Steve's team had won, which meant
he'd be on high, and I set out with a sense of dread. Right on time, I
knocked at his door, and he flung it open, dragging me inside quickly with a
huge smile on his face, and threw his arms around me. As his lips found mine
and his hands sent tingles down my back, I began to melt, felt the strength
to end it vanishing again. My fingers went to his neck and I began to tug at
his ears just the way I knew would drive him crazy with anticipation. And
then I stopped. The look on his face was of sheer disappointment, as the
flame ebbed from him.

"Steve, we need to talk," I said, slowly but firmly.

"I'll bet you can make me sing!" he said smiling.

"No, seriously. We need to discuss ... us."

His smile left his face, and his hands left my back. I felt cold and alone
without that contact, and my body screamed out to move against him, to have
his touch back again. But he too was now somehow determined. He sat on the
sofa, and I took a position opposite him, not touching him.

"I know," he said quietly. That made me look up and into his eyes quickly,
surprised. "We should have talked a while ago," he went on. "But every time
I want to talk to you, the thought of making love crowds out everything
else."

That threw me. I don't know why, but it hadn't occurred to me that Steve
might also have concluded that our relationship was not the perfect match,
was something we needed to finish for our own sakes.

"Yeah ... !" I said. Not exactly deep, but I said it with feeling, and we both
knew what I meant.

"Mike, ..." Steve began, then stopped to think.

After a minute or so, I took a breath, and started to speak. "Steve, the sex
we have is incredible. More than incredible, it's absolutely amazing," I
said, holding his gaze with my eyes. "But ..."

"... I need something more," he finished for me, for both of us. "I need
someone who can join in without having to try, someone who wants to go to
the games, and then grab a burger afterwards, before we come home together."
His face was contorted with the difficulty of saying the words.

"And I need someone who likes what I like, with whom I can share my thoughts
and not put them to sleep," I said in response.

"So we both need someone else!" he smiled sadly.

"I guess so."

"You know, I'll never find anyone as good as you when it comes to making
love," he whispered, his eyes moist.

I felt the tears well, struggled to keep my voice level. "Ditto, handsome,"
I muttered. "We can still be friends ...?" I offered.

"No, Mike," he said firmly now. "We were never `friends', but we were damned
good lovers."

My mind spun. He was absolutely right, and I wondered if I had misjudged him
all this time, if I had underestimated him. I probably had, but that didn't
change the fact that we simply weren't compatible, except in bed.

"Thank you, Steve," I said, and with feeling. "I'll never forget you. You
mean a lot to me, honestly, even if it doesn't seem like it right now."

He smiled then. "You mean a lot to me too. And you've taught me a lot." I
thought to myself that the sentiment was mutual. "I know we can't be
boyfriends," he went on, "but if you ever need to `relieve the tension', let
me know. God knows we're hot together!"

I chuckled at that, and leaned forward to take his hand in mine. I couldn't
find any words, but we held hands for a long time, staring into each other's
eyes, before I let go and stood up, letting myself out with a parting kiss
on his cheek.

As I walked away from his flat, I found myself immersed in a sea of
conflicting emotions. I was upset that my relationship with Steve was over,
even though I had wanted it to end, and knew that it couldn't go on. I was
sorry that I would not be continuing the amazing sex that I had enjoyed with
him, and at the same time I felt liberated, relieved almost, that I was
single again, a free agent, able to go out and look for Mr Right without
feeling guilty, or bound to someone else.

*****

I won't pretend that I stayed chaste over the next few weeks. After I broke
up with Steve, I dived back into the pool quickly, resumed my search for the
perfect man, and along the way I managed to find several partners to share a
drink, a dance and a fuck. I enjoyed the sex, even enjoyed the company, but
none of them were quite what I was looking for. They weren't Steve, yet I
wasn't looking for another Steve anyway. They just weren't ... well they
weren't whatever it was I wanted. And to make things even more difficult, I
didn't seem to know myself what it was I wanted.

And then it happened again. It was a Friday night and I had been drinking
since shortly after finishing work. I had gone from one bar to another along
Oxford Street, meeting up with a few acquaintances, sharing a dance or
flirting outrageously, but with no intention of following through. The night
was getting on, and the effect of the alcohol was beginning to take its
toll, when I saw a familiar face in the crowd. Unsure if it was who I
thought, I made my way over to him and tapped his shoulder, interrupting
what may well have been a serious pick-up attempt by a tall blond guy who
was talking to him. He turned around, and I grinned stupidly.

"Dave! I thought it was you. How are you?" I said, a little too loudly and a
little too keenly.

"Hey, Mike, good to see you again, mate," he said, his lips curling into a
grin. He glanced behind me and to either side. "Where's Steve?"

I was surprised that he remembered Steve's name so instantly, since they had
only met once. And I sensed something else in his voice, almost a strain,
but I couldn't make out why.

"Gone," I said simply. "We weren't quite right for each other."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"No, it was okay," I reassured him. "We both realised it, and we separated
friends, before it developed into anything too serious."

"That's good," he said, a smile breaking out on his face. I sensed him relax
considerably.

"How about you?" I asked cautiously. "Any new boyfriends on the horizon?"

"Nope. I'm single and loving it."

"Oh, come on. Everyone says that, and no-one believes it. How could you
`love' the endless searching, trying to make contact in a bar, wondering if
he'll call the next day, the lonely nights at home alone?"

"Ooh, Mike," Dave grimaced, "I do believe that's the voice of someone who
speaks with bitter experience!" We laughed together at his comment.

"But seriously, Dave, don't you find it all gets you down?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled. "I just find that no-one I meet matches up
to my expectations."

"Me too," I echoed. "I have this standard that nobody can reach." I reddened
then, unable to look him in the eye. My `standard' was one I didn't even
know myself, because I constantly compared anyone I met with Dave, yet I had
no idea what being with Dave was like, but how could I tell him that?

He looked at me with a curious yet knowing glance. "Buy you a drink?" he
asked, breaking the sudden silence. I nodded, and together we settled into a
quiet booth at the back of the room, downing our beers and reminiscing over
shared memories of school, regretting lost opportunities and speculating on
what might have been. For the next couple of hours, we caught up on each
other's lives, comparing experiences and past lovers, discovering we had
similar interests and tastes, filling in the gaps so that by the end of the
night it was as though we had remained close from the finish of school. And
as we spoke, we drank. So much so that words began to slur and I found it
difficult to stand up without swaying.

The night grew older, and we both grew drunker, until around 2.00 am, Dave
stopped talking and looked around us. "Hey, mate, I think it's time we were
outta here."

"You're place or mine?" I half joked, watching his face through the haze in
my eyes.

"Which is closer?" he laughed, and pretending to hold each other up, we
staggered out of the bar and into the street.

My home turned out to be the nearest of the two, and we were soon inside,
recovering from the cold of the walk. As I let him in and pulled the door
closed, my view landed on his arse, and I felt a twinge of desire as I
watched the beautiful shape of his butt accentuated by his jeans. I directed
him toward the sofa, telling him to make himself comfortable while I headed
for the kitchen to make us both some strong coffee.

A few minutes later I returned to the living room to find Dave sitting
upright on the lounge, his eyes closed and his breathing loud. He was sound
asleep! I sat in the chair opposite him, drinking in the sight of his
muscled, defined chest and the serenity of his handsome face. After all
these years, I had finally gotten my dream man home, and he falls asleep
before I can do anything about it! As I sat and stared at him, I slid lower
into the comfort of the armchair, watching his contented slumber. My eyes
felt heavy, but I smiled to myself. That was the last thing I remembered
until I woke up the next morning, in my bed, alone and fully dressed.

I sat up with a start and instantly wished I hadn't. My head throbbed, but
nothing a couple of aspirin wouldn't fix. With a little more care, I got out
of bed and wandered into the loungeroom. There, stretched out on the lounge,
his back to me, was Dave's form. His chest moved slightly in time to his
breathing as he slept on. I tip-toed around him and into the kitchen to put
on a pot of coffee and swallow a couple of headache tablets. As the jug came
to the boil, I heard a groaning from the living room, and poured two cups,
grabbing some more tablets and a glass of water, which I presented to the
now upright but groggy Dave.

"What's this?" he asked, still half asleep.

"Breakfast!" I declared.

"Oh, boy, we sure killed off some brain cells between us last night, didn't
we?" he mumbled.

"Yep." We sat in shared misery, silently sipping our coffees and letting the
pills have their effect, bringing us back to life. Almost an hour went by,
and I was beginning to feel human again.

"Dave, why don't you have a shower, wake yourself up properly. There's a
clean towel behind the bathroom door."

"Thanks," he said gratefully. "I think I need it."

Twenty minutes later, I had cleaned up the flat, and was sitting down to a
glass of juice when he emerged with just a towel wrapped around his waist,
his hair still wet and his skin glowing and pink from the hot water.

"Oh, Mike, that was perfect. Why don't you hop in yourself, and I'll explore
your kitchen, see if I can find us something to eat?" he said
enthusiastically.

I did as he suggested, diving under the stream of hot water and standing
there, letting the heat wash away the last remnants of the night before.
After a much longer time than I usually allowed myself, I stepped out
feeling immensely better and towelled myself off before draping the piece of
cloth around myself and wandering back out into the living room.

Dave presented me with a couple of pieces of slightly burnt toast, and a
look that said `well at least I tried!'. I happily ate the food as he sat
opposite me, still dressed only in the towel, his chiselled chest and narrow
waist looking fantastic in the fresh light of morning. I could feel the
beginning of an erection as I watched him, and shifted so it wasn't obvious
as I sat at the table.

He had sat and watched me eat in silence, an enigmatic smile on his lips the
whole time. I finished eating and wiped the crumbs from my mouth, staring at
him with a questioning look.

"Are you okay?" I asked, wondering at his mood.

"Oh, yeah," he smiled again, standing and leaning against the counter. "You
feeling better now?"

"Much," I replied enthusiastically. "How about you?"

"Yep, me too. Mike, thanks for letting me crash here last night."

"No worries. I don't think either of us was in much of a state to get any
further than where we did. How did I get into bed anyway, do you know?"

He laughed. "I woke up about 4.00 this morning, and you were sound asleep in
the chair opposite me. I tried to wake you, but no luck, so I dragged you
into the bedroom, pulled your shoes off and dropped you on the bed, and came
back here to get some more sleep."

I grinned and blushed at the same time. "Thanks," I said. "You know, you
could have had your way with me last night? Taken advantage of me and I
would never have known," I said, trying to sound pious.

Dave smiled wickedly at that. "But where's the fun if you can't remember?
Besides, I doubt I would have been capable of `having my way' with anyone
last night," he chuckled.

I tried to look hurt. "Wouldn't you have wanted me then?" I asked in a mock
tone of disappointment.

He lowered his voice, but his eyes were full of mirth as he matched my pout.
"Of course I would, handsome! But if I was gonna do that magnificent body of
yours justice, I'd want us both to be fully alert and giving it all we had."

Suddenly, the game was wearing thin. I felt a rush of blood to my cheeks,
and a familiar tingling in my groin. I couldn't look into his eyes at that
moment, as I realised that my words were far closer to my true feelings than
I wanted to admit.

"Mike? Mike, are you okay?" Dave's voice came to me through a fog.

Shaking off my sudden change of mood, I turned to him again. "Yeah." I
looked at him then, becoming serious, and quiet. "You know, Dave, back at
school, and during those long hours in the pool, you were my dream, my
fantasy. I used to wank off every night wishing you were holding me." I was
expecting a laugh, or a sordid comment, but this time it was he who blushed
and looked away.

When he did respond, it was almost a whisper. "If only we'd known ...!" His
eyes were downcast as he went on. "I wanted you bad back then. After school
finished and I came out, I used to compare everyone I met against my
imagined version of you. I was sure you were straight, but I wanted someone
just like you, and no-one ever measured up. And then when I finally found
you and you were available, I wasn't. And later, you were with Steve ..."

My heart was racing as he spoke. He seemed so vulnerable yet strong all at
once, and damn he was beautiful. I stood up and went to him, took his hands
in mine and met his gaze with a steady look.

"But there's no-one else here now," I said softly but firmly. "Just the two
of us ...?"

Our eyes locked as I inched closer to him, so close I could feel his breath,
hear his fast-beating heart. And when my lips met his it was like
electricity. We kissed, long and gentle, but locked together, tongues
exploring teeth, saliva mixing as we tasted the forbidden fruit of each
other. My arms went around his back as his hands lifted to rest on my
shoulders, his fingers against the tender skin of my neck. Chest to chest,
stomach to stomach, we stood and joined. The quickly rising hardness in my
cock tented out the towel and I soon felt his erection pressing against my
leg through the cloth he wore. We ground our pelvises together and the
flimsy material fell from us so we stood buck naked, hard and desiring,
against each other.

Desire was unleashed with that kiss, and the pent up urges of two men which
had been held in check for many years. We almost wrestled each other to the
bed, unwilling to relinquish the slightest touch on each other, stumbling
and feeling our way across the room until we fell together onto the soft
mattress. Freed from the need to remain upright, we rolled and twisted as
one, hands rubbing, caressing, groping, bodies mashed together as our mouths
remained joined, lips enmeshed and tongues jousting with each other. I could
not get enough of him, nor he of me as we played and pinched, grinding and
writhing with the release of our inhibitions.

Nothing was said as we continued our exploration of each other's bodies. No
words were needed. We both knew what we wanted, and what we wanted was
finally within reach. I rolled him onto his back and straddled him, my knees
on either side of his waist, my hands on his wrists, pinning him down. In
that position I could take my time, and I did, licking and biting at his
chin, his neck, his nipples, then back to his lips for tiny pecks and
pulling motions with my teeth. While my mouth worked on his torso, my arse
rubbed and ground against his groin. I could feel the rigidity of his cock
against my skin, and I moved purposefully to get the tube of his manmeat
gliding up and down along the crack of my arse. I felt the head of his prick
make contact with the soft ring of muscle that was my anus, and I pushed
back, urging him against me. Still dry, he could not enter, but as I pushed
I bent his prong until it must have been painful for him, but he made no
protest.

Suddenly needing to be truly joined with him, I leaned over and retrieved a
bottle of lube from the bedside table, but before I could do anymore, Dave
heaved himself up and flipped me over onto my back, while the weight of his
body now bore down on my abdomen, my legs still spread and wrapped around
his hips. Now it was my turn to be teased and nibbled at by his mouth. I
felt the velvety touch of his tongue across my neck, felt the warmth of his
breath at my chest, and then groaned with delight as his teeth closed around
my nipples one after the other. He bit at me firmly, pulling the erect nubs
of skin away from my chest, twisting them with his teeth and then letting
them go as he licked at the sensitive points. The pain was delicious, the
eroticism intense as I gasped and shuddered with joy at what he did to me.

At the same time, his hand found the lube, and he spread a generous helping
of the cool gel over his throbbing erection, before applying more of it to
my arse with his fingers, sliding first one and then a second digit into me,
opening my hole and massaging the sticky liquid over my muscles, readying me
for his assault.

As the firm rounded shape of his knob found my puckering entrance again, I
willed myself to relax and readied myself for him. He tried to be gentle,
tried to take it slowly, but our combined need was too great. I felt the
momentary pain as his cockhead opened my sphincter, and I pushed back to
meet him. His thick meaty rod began to slide between the walls of muscle,
and as it did I hunched myself backward, driving my body onto that fleshy
pole and feeling him spike deep inside me. I gasped with the discomfort and
the delight of having him, and my gut trembled at the penetration by his
prick as his shaft rubbed against my prostate and his throbbing weapon
filled me.

I was not going to allow him the slow build-up I would normally crave. I had
waited so long for this moment, and as he sank fully within me, I clenched
myself around his invading spear and milked his cock with my rectum. Dave
moaned with the sensations as he buried his sword inside me, and quickly he
began to hump at my body, driving himself deeper and deeper, harder and
faster into me. I ached with the joy of our union and gripped back at him,
released him and clamping again as he thudded in and out of me. For quite
some time he continued to ram that pile driver of steel hard manflesh into
my compliant body, and I felt the waves of tingling passion grow from the
pit of my stomach where his tube of cockflesh filled me, spreading
throughout my body and filling me with the lusty joy of ultimate masculine
sex.

On and on we humped, harder, faster. The wet squelching sounds of his cock
probing my bowel joined with our gasping breath and the squeaking of the
bed. His skin glistened with the sheen of sweaty passion, and I could smell
the aroma of male musk as he ploughed himself into me. I took all he could
give and begged for more, needed so desperately to be coupled with him.
"Fuck me, Dave, fuck me hard!" I hissed at him, and he did. My hands were on
his shoulders, pulling him harder into me, my legs wrapped tightly around
his waist while my hole was speared by his manhood. We crashed against each
other, humping and cursing, pounding and hissing as we fucked each other
with animal passion, lost to the world, oblivious to everything except our
thundering fucking. He slammed himself into me and I took his prong,
clenched it within me and owned him as he plumbed the depths of my gut.

I knew he was close to the edge, could feel his peak approach as he thumped
harder and faster at me. Our eyes locked, and we stared deep into each
other's soul, each seeing the need and the pleasure in the other. And at
that moment his eyes widened, his body tensed, and he crashed one final time
into me, his cock swollen and rampant. Burying his sword to the hilt within
my body, spasms shook him and I felt the force of his orgasm explode as his
nuts emptied their precious load into his shaft, his cock pumping a river of
cum deep into my bowel. His voice called out a strangled yell, and with our
eyes still locked together, my climax erupted. Wads of hot white cream shot
from my prick, splattering against his gut and spraying up onto my chest and
abdomen. Together we tensed, together we spasmed and shuddered, and together
we slowly collapsed in exhaustion as the tide of orgasm receded. With his
cock still firmly buried inside my rectum, he fell forward onto me as I
relaxed myself and threw my arms around him. Curled up into a ball, and not
wanting to let him go, I lifted my head and we kissed again, long and
satisfying.

Aching from the exertion, Dave began to pull himself from me. Reluctantly I
let him go, but not before I squeezed again with the ravaged muscles of my
sphincter, milking every last drop of his essence from him. Now we lay side
by side, arms entwined and mashing together with the slimy glue of my
ejaculate. We looked again into each other's eyes and smiled, the happy
smile of a dream finally sated.

"Holy fuck!" he said eloquently.

"Ditto!" was my evocative reply.

As our breathing slowly returned to normal in the hazy glow of post-coital
warmth, we held each other tightly. "Maybe all those years of wondering and
waiting were worth it," he said quietly.

"Well my imagination didn't do justice to the real thing!" I smiled back at
him. I was in a state of pure bliss. This was not the ultimate sensuality I
had known with Steve -- nothing would ever compare with that -- but somehow it
was better. Making love with Dave was like a joining of mind and body, as
though two separate pieces of the one being had finally come together to
make a complete whole.

Almost an hour later, Dave leaned up on one elbow and stared into my eyes.
"So, do you think I could possibly see you again?" he asked, as if we were
strangers, two guys who had picked up some trade for the night.

I hit him with the pillow.

For the rest of the weekend we were inseparable. We talked and joked as
though we had been together for years, but we also tried to make up for lost
time, making love again and again as we exhausted our bodies and surrendered
to our urges. The sex we shared was fantastic, but the time together when we
weren't engaged in sweaty congress was even better. I had found my soulmate,
and every minute with him was a joy.

Over the next three weeks, Dave and I saw each other constantly. We began to
meet after work for drinks, get something to eat and then go to one or other
of our homes where we happily and lustily joined together in rollicking sex.
We spent the weekends together, and we ignored our friends, as often happens
at the beginning of a relationship. I felt my attraction to Dave growing all
the time, and began to think that this really was it, that we should begin
to talk about some long term plans.

We had arranged to meet for dinner that Friday night, and I was in a bubbly
mood as I walked toward the café. Another weekend to spend with my man --
that was how I was coming to think of him -- and I had decided it was time we
started meeting each other's friends as well. I got there first and waited
for him, unable to keep the smile from my face. When he arrived, I stood up
and waved.

"Hi there, handsome," I said happily as he sat down, giving him a peck on
the cheek, which made him smile and return the kiss. But there was something
in his face I couldn't identify, some kind of concern.

"Hi Mike," he said simply as he looked at me again.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, wondering at this mood I hadn't seen before.

"Yeah, ... well, no, ... well ..." he trailed off as I gazed questioningly at him.

He took a deep breath, and a sense of foreboding grew in my mind.

"Mike, I don't know how to say this, we've only just found each other after
so long ..."

My brain dreaded the words that were coming, but I put on a brave face.
"Just say it, Dave, get it over with!"

"The company I work for want me to manage a major project. It's a huge job,
with lots more money and a giant feather in my cap, ..."

I brightened. "Great! So what's the problem?"

"It's in Melbourne! They have already started plans to relocate me, find me
somewhere to live, settle me in. It will be a huge job, could last up to two
years."

The look on my face must have been shock. Dave stared at me. "Mike? Mike,
are you okay?"

"Melbourne!" I gasped. "Two years? Fuck! It's so far away, and so long."

"They do have telephones, you know?" he offered with a wan smile. "And it's
only an hour and a half flying time ..."

"When?" was all I could manage as my mind reeled at the news.

"They want me to start down there a fortnight from Monday."

"Two weeks! Is that all? Shit!"

"Mike, I don't want to lose you again, but I really need this job. It's not
that bad. We can talk every day, and I can't see why we can't get together
every couple of weeks. You can fly down for weekends, or I can fly up to
Sydney to be with you. Please, please tell me it'll be alright?"

I smiled then, pretended to brighten up. "Of course it will, handsome. We'll
manage somehow." But in my mind I thought of all the difficulties of long
distance affairs. Deep down inside I had a bad feeling about this. We were
going to be separated by almost a thousand kilometres, and two years was a
hell of a long time!


To be continued...

Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com


This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination.
YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe
sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always
used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good
looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or
bottom, USE A CONDOM!