often u hear only what U want to . . . like in "Forbidden Love" when Madonna whispers a phrase that doesn't appear on the lyric sheet i always thought she was sending a safe sex message by saying protection is the greatest aphrodisiac but more than a few friends have insisted that rejection is what really turns her on.

to wear a condom or not to wear a condom, that is the dilemma . . . i'm negative and i believe the risk of infection for a top is relatively low despite recent reports to the contrary . . . sure, it's possible, especially if your dick is chafed (ask friends of Tina how it gets that way) or U are suffering from another STD but this hasn't been the case for me . . . which is why i haven't had much guilt or fear about occasionally going latex-free when i'm on top.

on the other hand, until i met the Blue Light Special, i never understood how a negative bottom, even one in a reputedly monogamous relationship, could be tempted to bareback . . . but the first night we were together, all the rules changed for me . . . when i tried to fuck him he asked do u have a condom? . . . i like to see how far somebody will go before they assert their right to life . . . the Blue Light Special passed with flying colors.

or so i thought . . . we soon had a conversation about our HIV status . . . we both said i'm negative but can U ever really know? . . . after all, i haven't been retested in 6 years . . . so when the Blue Light Special climbed on top of my unsheathed dick, he threw me for a loop . . . if he was willing to take a chance with me, shouldn't i be willing to risk my life for him?

i may be "schnell verlieber" but quick to trust is another matter entirely . . . although i let the Blue Light Special enter me briefly during DJ Tiesto's "In My Memory," the Frankfurt Banker wouldn't shut up . . . i used the discomfort of getting fucked for the first time in years as an excuse to ask him to withdraw . . . he didn't hesitate or object; nor has he done so on subsequent occasions when i have insisted that he wear protection.

it ain't the greatest aphrodisiac, that's for sure . . . quite the opposite, in fact, as i learned Tuesday night when the Blue Light Special showed up, his usual couple of hours late . . . he had come from his regular Tuesday afternoon "date" on the Lower East Side where a Brazilian friend had stuffed a shopping bag full of his freezer overflow . . . the A train wasn't running, i had to take the local, it took forever he said excitedly as he unpacked and taste tested frozen cheeses and pasta sauces that definitely had seen better days . . . excuses, excuses . . . after he worked out his abs on the floor of my bedroom, he asked if he could take a shower . . . hmmmm.

would u like a cocktail? i asked while preparing dinner in the kitchen . . . he had changed into a sexy blue bathing suit he had purchased at Revolutions, a gay clothing store in Hell's Kitchen . . . on sale he said flashing the winning grin that i have begun to associate with discounts or the possibility of sex . . . i wasn't wrong, either . . . after a single sip of his gin & tonic we were off and running . . . i leaned him over the stool near my refrigerator and rimmed him until the kitchen timer rang . . . time to toss the zuchinni, i said while he pulled out condoms, poppers and lube from his bag of tricks and set them on the other stool . . . here let me show u how to do that he said grabbing the frying pan handle in a demonstration of his cooking expertise . . . that helpful gesture, more than the intense fucking that i gave him, made it feel like we were a couple . . . remarkably, i also managed to serve a pretty tasty meal, too . . . he complimented the moistness of the chicken breast, cleaned his plate and asked for more brown rice . . . i felt the same way about his butt.

i didn't think i could be any happier when i climbed into bed, even tho we had spent the next couple of hours trolling the AOL M4M chatrooms . . . here it was, three days before Christmas, a time when i'm usually fighting the appeal of premature death, and i was sleeping with a guy regularly for the first time in nearly 10 years . . . do u have a t-shirt i can wear? asked the Blue Light Special . . . sure i said u can take any one in my underwear drawer, the one organized by the Frankfurt Banker. . . he got the joke, pulled out an olive t-shirt and joined me, bottomless, lying on his side, facing away.

i snuggled in closer to him, remembering that he had told me a story about how he loved getting fucked on his side . . . my erection throbbed against him . . . he licked his hand to lubricate his butt, already moist from my two prior visits . . . my dick slipped inside him effortlessly, very hand in glove, and i slowly, gently brought him to his second orgasm of the evening . . . for years i've been telling anyone who will listen that i get all the intimacy i need through my friendships as often as i have insisted that i can't tell the difference between fucking somebody with a condom or without . . . being with the Blue Light Special has exposed my bravado and finally proved that i'm no different than anybody else when it comes to love and sex.

did u come? he asked . . . no, i told u, i never would come inside u, even with a rubber . . . then he tried to fuck me without a condom but i wouldn't let him . . . nor did i let him go the raw route the next morning and when it seemed for a moment that the condom he was wearing had slipped off, i'm sure he saw the panic on my face.

u probably aren't the only person he's let fuck him without a condom insisted the Frankfurt Banker.

after he unrolled another, he fucked me harder than he ever has before, almost as if he were angry.

is there anything more corrosive to a relationship than lack of trust?