My First Poz Play Date

A friend recently asked me if I ever sexually discriminated against poz guys prior to my own HIV diagnosis. Bizarrely, I couldn’t remember and had to take a thorough mental inventory of my sexual history (or all the times I could remember). It occurred to me that from the time I became sexually active, I didn’t reject anyone based on their status — and it wasn’t because I was well-educated on the topic.

Around the age of 24, I had gotten out of my second major relationship and was on quite the prowl. Amongst my many chats online, I began talking with Colton, a man about 18 years my senior who handsomely rocked his shaved head and furry body. This combo — a weakness of mine — gave me no other choice than to go to his place and sleep with him.

When I got to Colton’s apartment, I discovered him to be quite the gentleman. Instead of treating me like a quick boy-toy, we took some time to get to know each other while he cooked some incredible food. Even though it wasn’t a date, it still seemed way nicer than most other hookups I’d been having those days. When it came to actual play time, that was nothing short of amazing as well.

A few weeks later, Colton messaged and asked if I wanted to come over for another round. Who was I to say no? But before I could even throw on my coat, he had something to confess: He was HIV positive. It caught me completely off guard. No one had ever told me this before, and he apologized for not telling me the first time.

In my early twenties, I would’ve caused a fuss over this. Back then, I enjoyed a little drama if I could play the victim and get all the empathy. However, my gut told me not to jump so heavily onto good old, juicy martyrdom. I’m not sure why, but I just didn’t feel endangered. So I told Colton that while I wished he would’ve said something before, I still wanted to come play anyway.

Colton and I talked about safety and it sounded easy. Nonetheless, as we fooled around, I somehow felt extra cautious. We took a moment of post-coital rest, his warm, gooey mess all over me, before he jumped up to get me a towel. I laid there coated in his positive semen and it felt different … yet I felt ok about it. And I didn’t know why.

Looking back on my time with Colton, I realize that I was highly ignorant about HIV. Even with years of sex education, I didn’t really know how HIV worked beyond the barrier of a condom. And since none of my friends ever talked about it, I didn’t really think it existed anymore. It also didn’t help that I’d been sexually active for more than eight years before someone, like Colton, first disclosed his status to me.

The reason I didn’t reject him was (oddly) because his disclosure came one round too late. Had Colton told me about his status in the first round, my own ignorance might have caused me to run, but having gotten to know him prior to his disclosure, I found a man who I saw as kind and gentlemanly. So when he eventually did disclose, I felt I could trust him. Plus, his eventual honesty not only gave me a proper wake up call to the fact that this disease did still exist, but it also gave me the opportunity to learn about how to properly navigate it. Rejecting him would have only caused me to remain ignorant.

Even though Colton and I quickly lost touch, I often think of him. He taught me that when someone discloses their HIV status, it’s not because they want to give a person caution, but rather they want to assure a person’s safety. Now that I am poz (the result of a freak accident from someone who didn’t disclose), I often revel in the irony that I am in the same shoes that Colton was once in with me.