The human papillomavirus, or HVP, has been in the news lately and lots of you have been talking about it, but it’s personal for me.
I’m Andrew’s anus, and I have HPV.
I’m tired of worrying about a couple of pre-cancerous spots in me, and Andy’s downright pissed about the obstacles he’s faced trying to get the right kind of care for me. He says part of the problem is that people aren’t comfortable talking about things like anuses, rectums, and butt sex.
I’m damned and determined to change that, so I’m telling my story.
Andy and I have been fuck buddies forever. We discovered we liked having sex about the time he learned to drive. I’ve been with Andy through decades of ups and downs, good times and bad times, lovers and tricks.
Andy’s a likeable dude, sort of the gay-guy-next-door type. He lives between the coasts in a place that’s too big to call a town, but too small to be considered a real city by those who actually live in one. At nearly 50 he gets creative with the clippers to disguise his receding hairline (or just shaves himself bald), is in good shape, and has a sex drive healthy enough for him to enjoy his new found “Daddy” status. Andy stays informed about queer health by keeping in touch with “in the know” friends from across the country.
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