Does your behaviour feel out of control? Can’t have a good time without drugs or alcohol? Wanting a relationship, but can’t stop having anonymous sex? Can’t have sex without being high? If so, we may be able to help. FREE 8 week group programmes for gay & bisexual men to address addictive behaviour patterns. Evenings 6.00pm - 8.30pm in Central London, including two Saturdays. For more information or to book your place, please telephone Brian Wood on 0207 812 1516 Charity no 288527 (England and Wales) and SCO39986 (Scotland). Funded by the Pan-London HIV Prevention Programme.
kristian+LiFE The real sex life of a positive person “We forgot the condoms,” said my boyfriend as we unpacked our cases ready for a dirty weekend in Ireland. It had been a late night, an early start for the airport, and after a horrible week at work, neither of us had particularly been in the mood to pay more than lip-service to the vagaries of holiday packing. We’d barely remembered our passports. Palms on foreheads, we looked at each other in disbelief. “How the hell could we forget the condoms?” I said “That’s the first thing we need to pack when we go away!” You see, I have HIV, and he doesn’t. And we like sex. So it’s a bit of a problem when we forget to pack condoms for a weekend in the middle of nowhere. Now, there may be more than one way to skin a cat, but there’s only one way to skin a cock, so a lack of latex put paid to certain ‘activities’. But I guess that’s the wonderful thing about gay sex. You have two cocks, two mouths and four hands. Let’s just say we coped. Since contracting HIV, I’ve had to learn a bit about responsibility and honesty. As the positive partner of a negative man, I feel a responsibility to protect him. It’s only natural when you love someone. But, while we enforce a condoms everytime policy with sex, there also has to be acceptance on both sides, and we’ve had to find a sort of peace with the fact that he may end up with it one day, despite how careful we are. Relationships aside, if I were single I’d be taking the same approach. Like 99% of gay men in their 30s, I’ve had a fair amount of sex. OK, I’ve had a lot of sex. And a lot of sexual partners. I’ve had sex as an HIV-negative man and I’ve had sex as “Like 99% of gay men in their 30s, I’ve had a fair amount of sex. OK, I’ve had a lot of sex. And a lot of sexual partners.” an HIV-positive man, with people from both ends of the spectrum. And yes, I’ve barebacked with positive guys. Ooh, controversial. Positive guys bareback with each other all the time. Everyone knows that. And while HIV isn’t the only disease people should worry about, I’m a grown man, which gives me the luxury of making decisions for myself. The cards were on the table on both sides and we made a decision. For the record, I never have and never will bareback with a negative guy. So, apart from the rule of ‘never go in without a skin’, I’d say my sex life is pretty normal. Sorry for anyone who was hoping for an earth-shattering revelation. Some of it has been great, some of it good, some OK and some of it has been pretty bloody awful, to be honest. I’ve had bottles of poppers fall on my head, cramp in my foot, a knee or two in the bollocks. I’ve settled in for a long session only to cum in 30 seconds, and there have been other times when I couldn’t cum if you were holding a gun to my head. “It amazes me that issues of gay/straight/bi still resonate,” wrote Richard Fairbrass in the 23 April edition of the Evening Standard, in response to the public reaction to Jessie J’s supposed ‘lesbian cover-up’. “Sometimes even gay sex can be pretty rubbish. It might help diffuse the curiosity and exoticism around the subject if more people knew this!” Well, let’s face it. He has a point, and when it comes to the sex lives of positive people, even the gay community can be pretty short sighted at times. There’s a fair amount of prejudice. Any of these sound familiar? “He has HIV, which must mean he’s a dirty bottom slut who only cares about getting the next cock up him.” or “I wouldn’t go near him, he’s riddled”. Judgements aside, there’s a pretty serious awareness issue going on, too, and it’s not because of a lack of available information. Did I get HIV because I’m promiscuous? Nope. I got HIV because I was naïve. And in the same way we’ve all been grilled by our tipsy, straight colleagues in the pub about our sex lives and relationships “Who’s the ‘woman’?” “Do you wear leather?” There is a certain ‘exoticism’ around sex with positive guys. “How does it work?” I’ve been asked. “What are the risks?” People are curious. They want to know more, but they’re embarrassed to ask. Gay sex is great. It’s sticky, sweaty, dirty, loving, hard, soft and heart poundingly wonderful. And it’s no different when you’re positive. I’ve had sex that makes you see stars and the kind that has you praying for it to be over. Sometimes in the same night. Everyone likes a touch of the enigma, the risk of being caught, the thrill of anonymity, or a new cock to play with. It’s why we initially seek out sex in all its forms. But, positive or negative, and whatever kind of sex you enjoy, should you ever sacrifice honesty and self-respect for a good time? Think about it. l Kristian Johns is an author and former editor who now runs his own copywriting agency. His first full-length novel is due out in 2012. You can catch his personal musings at his blog, www.sexdrugsandsausagerolls.com and on Twitter, @guy_interruptd. www.gmfa.org.uk |9
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