Date: Mon, 23 Nov 2015 18:34:52 -0600
From: Charles Smythe <jasonsmythe7@gmail.com>
Subject: Sperm Donor-[GF-139]-part-1-of-1

Sperm Donor

Part-1-of-1

James was 19, a second year student at Cedar Valley College in
Lancaster, Texas had accepted the good-natured kidding from his high
school buddies who had gone on to SMU and UTA about his college
appellation, but had explained that his great grandfather had been one
of the founders and that it was family tradition to go there.

James 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 a
week. True his family had money and helped out some but they believed
in making their kids earn the biggest part of their educations cost.
They thought it made them appreciate it more. And like all college
students James needed the money, so he'd called and had gone through
the long screening process.

At the clinic he was treated well. Although they seemed very
interested in his personal background, the screening process seemed
very clinical and almost unrelated to the ultimate goal of making
babies.

They tossed out terms like sperm count, motility rates and viability.
They were almost like exam questions. James had finally been told that
he had passed.

James 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. James had been a very gifted student, but had
never really given sex serious thought.

Of course, like all testrostone driven 19 year olds when the
opportunity arose, he got himself off, but he'd never given thought to
having sex with someone else. The screening rep explained that guys
with girlfriends sometimes had to disappoint them for a couple of days
before their donation days and this sometimes created problems.

James knew that besides couples with fertility problems, lesbian women
used the center. He would have preferred to know the women who used
his sperm and their children, but he understood that this was not
possible. The donation center kept donors and recipients apart, even
scheduling appointments for the two groups on different days.

He gave the idea of having offspring some serious thought. He liked
the idea that he was helping someone who wanted to have children but
for whatever reason couldn't. And he reasoned that someday he could
have children himself.

James looked forward to his appointment 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, James almost bounded to the clinic
after class. He walked past Aquanetta, the receptionist, who noted his
arrival in her appointment book and asked James, "Do you needed any
`visual aids?"

James said, "No."

A young Mexican technician appeared, and told James to follow him. He
obeyed. As he followed him James noticed in passing that like all
government type employeers that gave preferential hiring consideration
to minorities that most of the employees were minorities. The
receptionist was black and now this technician was Mexican.

As he walked, James noticed the contrast between his coppery skin and
with with his crisp white lab coat.

The technician took James down a long hall, to a fairly large room.
The room had been disguised so didn't have a clinical look. There was
a bed with a somewhat `homey' faded cover. A modern painting adorned
the wall, along with of all things a 1960's vintage Coke clock. The
clock seemed out of place to James. But he figured 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, James
was already hard. He 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.

James looked at the lab technician. The young Mexican man seemed to
represent the only humanness in the clinic. Although James was 19 and
very self-assured but suddenly he desired the touch of someone else.

The technician said, "I guess you'll be OK?"

James picked up on this response. The question seemed almost inviting.
James sat on the bed, and said, "Hey...it'll just take seconds. Please
stay."

He realized that the technician might respond differently than he had
hoped. He also didn't know what he wanted. He knew he was at the
clinic for a very singular purpose but that he 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 James that he'd
never watched before. James realized that the young Mexican technician
had given him permission to proceed.

James unzipped and pulled off his pants in an instant. His 19-year-old
cock was raised to full attention now. Although he hadn't developed
his full adult stature, his sexual organ, sexuality and potency were
at their peak.

James settled down on the bed. The young Mexican technician moved
closer, and broke the seal on the plastic collection container. "My
name's Felipe," he said, breaking his anonymity. James 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.

Felipe looked down at James, nervous, but surprisingly excited. Almost
reflexively, he put some saliva on his palm and placed his hand on
James's cock. He felt James tense but not pull away.

He opened his eyes, and looked up at Felipe from his prone position on
the bed. James had only kissed girls before, but Felipe's lips
suddenly looked more inviting than the lips of any woman he had kissed
before. A quick mental check confirmed to James that this sexual
experience would be safe.

Felipe started stroking James's cock. Suddenly Felipe 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 James, who was only half-undressed. Felipe sensed that this
very self-assured, intelligent young man needed physical contact and
assurance. Leaning down his lips met James's cockhead.

James felt the primeval urgings and cravings of a thousand
generations, as his back arched rhythmically. He felt Felipe's tongue,
and allowed it to slather around his cockhead. Suddenly, James felt
his body nearing orgasm. He pulled his cock away from Felipe's lips
and said, "I'm cumming."

Felipe removed his hand from James's cock and picked up the sterile
container. Still holding James cock with one he placed the steril
container under James's cockhead with the other. He was amazed at the
amount of semen collected. Perhaps 6 to 7cc, he mentally estimated.

Felipe felt James's body relax. This whole brief sexual sequence had
made Felipe feel a part of the process he had previously felt apart
from.

Both young men regained their composure. James put back on his pants
and sat up on the bed. He estimated that the entire process had taken
less than 5-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," Felipe said. He imagined the
cryogenic process holding James's gift of life in suspended animation.
And, somehow, he felt at part of this potential new life.

As James 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.

As he neared the exit, Felipe came out a door. Slipping him a piece of
paper, James whispered, "I'm free Friday night. Call me." He had a
smile on his face and a little extra spring in his step as he headed
for the Dart bus stop.

The end...