Date: Tue, 8 Dec 2009 16:05:29 +0000
From: Neil N. Blow <neilnblow@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Sperm Bank

The following story is for adult audiences and is a work of fiction, if you
want to believe that....

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Sperm Bank


I got the job working at the Sperm Bank while in college working on my
Nursing degree.  No, not all male nurses are fags, but I am.  I loved
sucking cock in college, and when I saw the part-time job listing posted at
the placement center on campus, the thought of working in a place with all
that jism sort of turned me on.  And it was a great way to help me pay for
my tuition, too.

The Sperm Bank is located about a half-mile from campus in one of those
bland, nondescript medical office buildings.  Most of our donors are young
college guys, looking to make a little extra money doing what they would be
doing anyway - jerking off a lot.  Many would come by fairly often - at
least once a month if not more.  Semen was in demand for artificial
insemination.  It keeps, when frozen, for a few months, so there is a
continual demand for it.

It was a pretty fun job.  Really hot young guys would come in, and I'd hand
them a clipboard with some forms to fill out, and then give them a vial and
direct them to one of our "donor rooms".  The donor rooms were small
cubicles all in a row, much like booths in an adult bookstore, but without
the semen stains (we don't waste product!).

Each booth has one of those institutional fiberglass bucket chairs and a
selection of dirty magazines.  The guys go in there with their vials, jerk
off, and squirt in to the vial.  They usually come out after 5-10 minutes
and hand me the vials, still warm, with their screw cap on them.  Some of
these guys can really fill up the vials, and sometimes there is spillage.
They are suppose to clean up the excess with paper towels provided, but
some of the guys don't bother.

And I think they do it on purpose.  I remember one guy, really hot and
hung, who would fill that damn vial all the way to the top.  He'd hand it
to me with a smirk, looking right in my eyes and knowing that I'd gulp it
all down in a second, if I could.  I would always go back to his booth
after he left to "clean up" a bit, but instead of the chlorine spray and
paper towels, I'd use my tongue to lick up his "excess" from the chair or
wherever I could find it.  Like I said, I'm a fag.

It didn't take me long to discover the peephole that some other
student-employee had made from the storage closet into booth number 3.  I
saw it first when I was stacking up cleaning supplies in the closet.  Down
low, right a crotch level, was a small hole neatly drilled that looked
right into booth number 3.  I crouched down and looked into it and could
see that baby blue fiberglass chair.  I was intrigued.

The next time Mr. Big Load came in, I handed him an empty vial and directed
him to booth number 3.  As soon as he latched the door, I made an excuse to
my work-mate that I was going to the bathroom and sneaked around to the
cleaning supply closet.

I closed the door behind me as quietly as possible, and trying not to make
a sound, I pushed aside the boxes of paper towels and bottles of bleach
that were blocking the peephole.  Kneeling down, I looked through and in
the dim light saw my young man, pants around his ankles, wanking an
enormous cock.  I knew he was hung, from his overconfident attitude and
also from the bulge traveling down one side of his inseam.  But seeing it
erect got me hard in no time.

I could see the magazine he held in one hand, which showed a picture of a
slutty blond girl giving a guy a blowjob.  He liked to get sucked off, for
sure.  I am not sure how long I knelt there, but I was mesmerized, watching
him jerk off, knowing that he didn't realize I was watching.  Suddenly, I
heard him groan and fumble for the vial and in three strong jets of sperm,
he filled that damn vial right from the end of his cock.  I was so jealous
of that vial at that point.

Of course, he spilled quite a bit, and while he secured the top to the
vial, I could see excess semen dripping off his cock and onto the chair and
floor.  It looked like I'd have to "clean" that booth thoroughly!  I
quickly got up, as quietly as I could, so I would be in the reception area
when he came out with his vial.

Walking briskly around to the other side of the office, I caught him just
in time - and once again, he handed me the full vial while smirking at me.
The vial was warm, and sticky on the outside with semen.  I thanked him for
his "donation" and handed him the pre-printed check from my clipboard - and
like that he walked out and left.

I took the vial to our lab, and once inside, looking around quickly, I
licked off the excess semen from the outside of the vial.  I just love
men's cum.  I'd prefer to get it right from the source, but when I see a
hot guy like that, I'll take his semen anyway I can get it.  I labeled the
vial and put it in the cold storage locker and went back to clean out booth
#3.

Once inside the booth, I knelt down and started licking the excess semen
off the chair.  I unzipped the fly on my uniform trousers and started
jerking off madly, running my tongue over that chair, tasting his cum and
his sweat where his naked ass had sat minutes before.  The chair was still
warm with his body heat.  In no time at all, I shot all over the floor.

Embarrassed and more than a bit scared of getting caught, I sprayed the
floor with my bleach bottle and cleaned up the mess.  Standing up, I opened
the door, surprised to see my work-mate.  "Quite a mess in there, eh?" she
said.  I fumbled and nodded, and said, "Yea, he's a messy one" and we both
laughed.  You have to sort of make jokes at a job like this.  Otherwise,
well, the tension can be unbearable.

And the tension was palpable.  Just thinking of all these young guys
jerking off in those booths drove me nuts.  Handling vials of their warm
cum nearly made me insane.  I wanted to uncap each one and chug-a-lug them
all down.  I wanted to swallow all their cum, those handsome young men.
All of it, at once, in a giant cum cocktail.

I wanted it bad.  I'd jerk off in the booths or in the restroom, sometimes
three times during a shift.  I'd think I'd be spent, and then some hot
college jock would come in and I'd direct him to booth #3 and I would just
have to go watch him pull that beautiful cock.

My dream of swallowing massive amounts of cum came true, a few weeks later.
As I said, the semen samples last only so long in cold storage.  Some are
in high demand (based on the profiles of the donors in our donor book) and
many childless couples will come back for "seconds" from popular donors if
they want a second child from the same DNA source.

But even then, there are many samples which are past their "sell by" date
within a month or so.  Probably less than half the samples we collect are
used for artificial insemination - one reason we don't pay as much as we
could for the donations.  So at the end of each month, we clean out the
cold storage and toss out the older samples.  Most are probably still
"good" in that they would get a woman pregnant, but the viability rate
drops, and we want to sell a quality product, particularly for the prices
we charge.

The first time I was asked to clean out the cold storage locker, my
work-mate helped me do it, showing me how to take the samples, place them
in the red "bio-hazard" bag and then put them in the special trash
receptacle at the back of the medical building where we worked.  A special
truck would come by that evening and pick it up and incinerate the samples
along with other medical waste from the building.

Naturally, the idea of throwing away so much young man spunk made me a bit
sad.  The next month, my work-made told me she wanted to leave early.  So I
said, all right, I'll clean out the cold storage locker myself.  I finally
had my chance.

As soon as she was out the door, I went back into the lab, carrying my
knapsack, and like a greedy kid in a candy store, swept armloads of sample
vials into my backpack and quickly zipped it shut.

I put a a similar number of empty vials in the bio-hazard bag and then thew
a few expired samples on top.  I doubt anyone opened the bag to check this
stuff - they just toss it in the incinerator.  If anyone glanced inside,
they'd see the expired samples on top.

I dropped the bio-hazard bag out back as before, and trembling with
nervousness, and locked up the office for the night and headed home.

Once home, I unzipped my backpack and dumped out the plastic vials on my
kitchen counter.  There were dozens of them, and they were still cool from
the cold storage locker.  I picked up each one, looking at the reference
numbers, making the connections between the samples and the faces (and
cocks) of boys who donated them.  I had their semen in my hands, in my
possession.  The thought drove me nuts.  My cock got rock hard.

I put a pot of water on the stove and let it heat up.  I dropped the vials
one at a time, watching them bob up and down in the heating water.

While the water heated up, I took down from the shelf a pint glass that a
friend of mine gave me.  It was one of those British Pub pint glasses, with
a mark on the side showing there the pint level was - you know, the kind
they serve Guinness in.

The water in the pan was getting warmer now.  I stirred the vials around to
spread the heat evenly.  I pulled out occasional vials, testing the
temperature to see if it was as warm as I remember them, when freshly
filled.

After about 5 minutes, the vials were getting warm, if not a bit hot.  That
was OK.  I wanted them to warm up, so they would cool down to body
temperature at the right time.  Turning off the stove, I took out each vial
and unscrewed the cap, and dumped the contents into the pint glass.

The hot semen in each vial was runny and poured out smoothly.  Like a
greedy kid licking out a bowl of frosting, I licked out the remainder of
each vial before carefully tossing it in the trash.  My cock was throbbing
now, and my mouth tasted like cum.  I though about the boys whose cum I was
tasting and compared the textures and tastes of each different vial.

The glass filled slowly at first.  Each vial added a little cum to the
overall total.  I pulled a vial from the hot water and instantly recognized
the ID number as my "Mr. Big Load" friend.  His full vial added nearly a
half inch to the level in the glass.

By the time I had dumped the last vial into the pint glass (and licked out
the remainder in the vial the glass was just full to the pint line.  I had
my cum cocktail!

Walking carefully to the bathroom, I carried the glass with both hands, not
daring to spill a drop.  Once in the bathroom, I set the glass down
carefully on the large counter top that housed my sink.  I like to jerk off
in this bathroom on occasion.  The full wall mirror provided me with a
complete reflection of my upper body, and I would spend hours in this
bathroom, jerking off, watching my cock, and softly talking to myself,
watching myself in the mirror, saying unspeakable things about what I
wanted to do with men's cocks.

"I'm a faggot," I'd say, "I want to eat as much cum as possible".  Just
watching myself saying that would make me cum sometimes.  Degrading myself,
abusing myself.

I quickly but carefully took my clothes off, locking the bathroom door
unnecessarily (the apartment was locked, who would come in?).  What I was
about to do was more shameful that anything I had done before.  And I had
done some pretty shameful things in the past.

Naked, I looked at myself in the mirror, my erect cock hard as a rock.  I
looked right into my own eyes and said in a clear voice, "OK, Faggot, we're
going to find out how much of a Faggot you really are!"

I hooked my balls over the edge of the sink and started jerking my cock
slowly.  I looked over at the pint glass of semen and thought about all the
guys who had jerked off to make all that cum.  How many different guys' cum
was in there?  10?  20?  Maybe 30?  And I was going to swallow it all.

As if in a dream, I reached over and picked up the glass, I looked into the
mirror and watched myself put the glass of milky white liquid to my lips.
Should I sip it, or gulp it down like a pig?  I thought for a second, and
decided that mouthfuls of cum were what I wanted.  So I put the glass to my
mouth and took a large gulp of the warm jizz, enough to fill my mouth.

It was wonderful.  The semen was warm and gooey, and it filled my mouth.
My cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunks, and a dribble of it came out of
my tightly clamped lips and drooled down my chin.  I stood there, the glass
in one hand, my cock in the other, staring at myself in the mirror,
enjoying this moment, wanting it to last a lifetime.

I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, feeling the slimy viscosity
of the semen.  Then I gulped and let it all slide down my throat, like
three raw eggs at once.  Nasty!  I swallowed a mouthful of cum!

I put down the glass and wiped the dribble of semen from my chin with my
hand, licking it off.  Looking in the mirror, I opened my mouth wide, and
saw the glistening whiteness coating the inside of my mouth and tongue.
Men's semen.  I was such a lucky little Faggot.  And I told myself as much.

But I wanted more and this first gulp hardly put a dent in the pint glass
of cum.  Picking up the glass, I put it up to my lips and started gulping
cum.  I swallowed three full mouthfuls of semen in quick succession,
gulping it like beer.  As I swallowed it, the names and faces of the boys
who had donated drifted through my mind, as well as the images of them
jacking off in booth #3.  I loved them all, and I wanted them all and I was
swallowing their cum.  I was so grateful.

I put the glass down, and it was less than half full.  Damn, I had eat a
lot of cum!  I could feel it in the back of my throat, gooey and sticky,
like phlegm.  I could feel my throat tickling and my body tried to clear
the passageway.  I suppressed the urge to cough.  I wanted that semen - all
of it, down inside me.  I wanted to swallow all of it.  I wanted that pint
of cum in my tummy.  I wanted these young men's semen as my food.  My meal.
I only wished I could live off a diet of their cum!

I was getting to the end of the glass, all too soon.  The memory of those
recent mouthfuls made my cock hard, and as I stroked it, waves of
submissive pleasure washed over my body.  I put the glass to my lips and
took a small sampling.  I opened my mouth and looked in the mirror and
admired the puddle of cum on my tongue.  Then I closed my mouth and
swallowed it.

I did this several times, emptying the glass.  It was gross.  It was
disgusting.  Only a total Faggot would do something like that.  And I was
doing it.  Degrading myself.  Humiliating myself.  Using my mouth as a cum
dumpster.

Too soon, the glass was empty.  My tongue swirled around the inside of the
glass, trying to get more.  I tilted the glass up, and watched while the
last oozing bits ran down the inside toward my waiting tongue.

All the time, I am jerking my cock, feeling wonderful, thinking about
Mr. Big Load and his big dick, wishing only that my mouth could take his
load two or three times a day - and that of all his friends.  I stroked my
cock harder and shot all over the wall mirror, waves of ecstacy washing
over me. I had done it, I had drank my cum cocktail!

Of course, as the last jet of cum was dribbling from my cock into the sink,
the waves of repression, nausea, and recrimination washed over me as well.
And I welcomed these.  I looked ridiculous, naked in the bathroom with my
empty pint glass of jizz.  My stomach let out a low growl in protest of the
meal I had forced upon it.

I set down the glass and set about cleaning the semen off the mirror and
counter top.  I rinsed out the rest of the pint glass. I chuckled to myself
at the thought of serving beer in it to my friends - if only they knew what
its previous contents had been!  I finished wiping down the bathroom and
thought to myself that I was developing quite a career in cleaning up semen
- my own and other men's.

Returning to the kitchen, I put the glass and the pot of now warm water in
the sink.  I looked at all the empty vials in the garbage can.  I pulled
the bag out of the can, double bagged it and then tied it all up.  Slipping
my clothes on, I went out to the apartment complex dumpster and buried the
bag, and my shame, deep inside.

I went back to my apartment and took a hot shower, hoping the hot water
would wash away my shame - but at the same time wallowing in the self-abuse
and depravity of what I had just done.  I knew that as soon as I was horny
again, I would relish the idea of swallowing cum.  Maybe I could go back to
campus and loiter in the mens room near the gym.  I had blown a number of
guys there before.

I sat on the couch and tried to read,.  I could feel the semen gurgling in
my stomach.  I thought about what all that cum must look like in a gooey
pile.  My cock got hard, I had to go jerk off again.

I worked at the Sperm Bank for another year, before I graduated.  I was
scared of repeating my "sperm cocktail" experiment, initially.  If I got
caught, I would not only lose my job, but likely my career as well.  But my
depraved urges got the better of me, and on several occasions, I repeated
the experiment with the same results, or better.

Depending on the amount of samples that were to be discarded, I would end
up with anywhere from a cup to nearly a quart of semen to ingest.  And each
time, when I was done, standing there in the bathroom with my softening
cock in my sticky hand, and the taste of dozens of men's semen in my mouth,
I would vow never to do it again.

The opportunity to swallow that much cum in one sitting hasn't arisen since
then.  I've sucked off guys in porno places and in rest rooms.  Once I
sucked off seven men over a two-hour period.  It was nice.  But I still
think back to my college days, and me gulping down those mouthfuls of
cum....

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