From: Eric <eh1@ibm.net>
Subject: Repost: Gay story
Date: 1997/07/12
===============================================================================
The Block Party BBS Voice (Support) 617-782-2500
PO Box 187 Data (New members) 617-782-2900
Boston, MA 02134-0187 Data (Existing members) 617-782-3200
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Be sure to see our website at: www.blockparty.com
If you are under the age of 18, please grow up.
===============================================================================
=== This is a fictional presentation! === This is a fictional presentation! ===
===============================================================================
DONOR
Tom was 19, a second year student at Leland Stanford Jr. University, or
Stanford. He had accepted the good-natured kidding from his high school
buddies who had gone on to Cal about the "Junior University" appellation, but
explained that Leland Stanford Jr. was the son of a nineteenth century
railroad baron who died at an early age.
Ironic, Tom thought, that now he was trying to create life at a University who
had been named for a person who had died young! Tom had seen an advertisement
in the school paper for sperm donors. The ad was upfront; it stated that
donors could earn as much as $l05/week. Tom had called, and had gone through
the long screening process. At the clinic he was treated well. Although they
seemed very interested in his background, the screening process seemed very
clinical, and almost unrelated to the ultimate goal of making babies! They
tossed out terms -- sperm count, motility rates, viability -- almost like exam
questions. Tom has finally told that he had passed!
Tom had been able to tell the screening rep that he had had no previous sexual
experiences. The screening rep said that this made things easier, since he
should abstain for three days before his donation appointment. Tom had been a
very gifted student, but had never really given sex serious thought. Of
course, when the opportunity arose, he got himself off, but he had never given
thought to having sex with someone else. The screening rep explained that guys
who had girlfriends sometimes had to disappoint their girlfriends a couple of
days before their donation days, and this sometimes created problems.
Tom knew that lesbian women used the center. He would have preferred to know
the women who used his sperm, and their children, but understood that this was
not possible. The donation center kept donors and recipients apart, even
scheduling appointments for the two groups on different days.
Tom gave the idea of having offspring some thought. He liked the idea, but
decided that he was helping someone who wanted to have children out; and
reasoned that someday he could have children himself.
Tom always looked forward to his appointments at the clinic. He couldn't beat
off several days before donating; so his appointment at the clinic meant that
he would at least get some sexual release.
On his scheduled appointment day, Tom almost bounded to the clinic after class.
He walked past the receptionist, who noted his arrival in her appointment book,
and asked Tom if he needed any "visuals. " Tom said no.
A young black technician appeared, and told Tom to follow him. Tom obeyed.
The clinician was black, and Tom noticed the contrast with his white lab coat.
The technician took Tom down a long hall, to a fairly large room. The room had
been disguised, and did not look clinical. There was a bed with a somewhat
"homey" faded cover. A modern painting adorned the wall, along with a clock of
1960's vintage. The clock seemed out of place to Tom; but he reasoned that the
clock was probably about the same age he was, so he accepted its presence.
Even in the midst of this clinical, somewhat impersonal setting, Tom was hard.
Tom knew that he would have absolutely no problem getting off. His psyche
yearned for more, however. Some physical touch, perhaps. In the midst of
creating new life, he felt alone.
Tom looked at the lab technician. The young black man seemed to represent the
only humanness in the clinic. Although Tom was 19, and very self-assured, he
desired the touch of someone else.
The technician said, "I guess you'll be OK?" Tom picked up on this response.
The question seemed almost inviting. Tom sat on the bed, and said, "Hey --
it'll just take seconds -- please stay. " Tom realized that the technician
might respond differently than he had hoped! Tom also didn't know what he
wanted. He knew he was at the clinic for a very singular purpose, but the
desire for human contact, even at this most personal moment, overcame his
reluctance to voice this request.
In a very deep and low voice, the technician told Tom that he'd never watched
before. Tom realized that the young black technician had given him permission
to proceed.
Tom pulled off his pants in an instant. His 19 year old cock was raised to
full attention now. Although he had not developed his full adult stature, his
sexual organ, sexuality, and potency were at their peak.
Tom settled down on the bed. The young black technician moved closer, and
broke the seal on the plastic collection container. "My name's Mike, " he
said, breaking his anonymity. Tom could feel a degree of humanness emerging
from this very inhuman setting. Suddenly his mind relaxed. He closed his
eyes; his mind went into the same sexual fog that it did when he beat off in
his dorm room.
Mike looked down at Tom, nervous, but surprisingly excited. Almost
reflexively, he put some saliva on his hand, and placed his hand on Tom's cock.
He felt Tom tense, but Tom did not draw away. Tom opened his eyes, and looked
up at Mike from his prone position on the bed. Tom had only kissed girls
before, but Mike's lips suddenly looked more inviting than the lips of any
woman he had kissed before. A quick mental check confirmed to Tom that his
sexual experience would be safe.
Mike started rubbing Tom's cock. Suddenly Mike felt a part of a process that
he had felt divorced from previously. In some ways, he felt as if he were
actually giving life; or at least assisting in the life process. As his hand
increased in speed and frequency, he looked down at Tom, who was only
half-undressed. Mike sensed that this very self-assured, intelligent young
man needed physical contact and assurance. His lips met Tom's.
Tom felt the primeval urgings and cravings of a thousand generations, as his
back arched rhythmically. He felt Mike's tongue, and allowed it to enter his
mouth. He responded with his own tongue. Suddenly, Tom felt his body nearing
orgasm. He pulled his mouth away from Mike's, and said "I'm coming. " Mike
removed his hand from Tom's cock, and picked up the sterile container. Placing
it under Tom's cock, he was amazed at the amount of semen collected -- perhaps
6-7cc, he mentally estimated.
Mike felt Tom's body relax. This whole brief sexual sequence had made Mike
feel a part of the process he had previously felt apart from.
Both young men regained their composure. Tom put on his pants, and sat up on
the bed. He estimated that the entire process had taken less than two minutes,
but a feeling of total satisfaction overcame him. His sexual and physical
needs had been met.
"We'll get this on ice right away, " Mike said. He imagined the cryogenic
process holding Tom's gift of life in suspended animation. And, somehow, he
felt at part of this potential new life.
As Tom walked down the corridor to the reception area, he wondered if his
future child would ever try to find him someday. He resolved that if this
future child did someday try to search him out, he would tell him this entire
story; that the child was really the result of a gay sexual experience.