Standalone scene. Part three of my "Diary of a sperm donor" series. This series is set in a dystopian future where 90% of men lost the ability to procreate. This is the story of an ex soldier who can still spread his seed…

Check out this post for an overview of all of my content. Or to read the series from start to finish.

—

I never in a million years thought that five days after you posted my sperm donor profile online, you’d tell me about my first booking. One grand for a donation - an artificial insemination. When I asked you how we’d do it logistically, you said: “You’ll jerk off in a hotel bathroom, and I’ll deliver the donation to the couple that will insert it right then and there.”

Jesus. Christ.

And now here we are. In the hotel you booked. You said you’d deduct it from the final amount. 

“Are you ready?” you ask me as we ride the elevator to the tenth floor.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answer and check my reflection in the full-size mirror. I look fine. Or, well, I look good. Ever since I’ve been able to eat a little more and work out regularly, I’ve regained some color and size.

“You didn’t jerk off the last three days, right?”

I frown at you. “Of course not.” You’d sent me what seemed to be an entire essay about preparing for sperm donation. Not jerking off was part of it.

“Okay. Good. They already signed the contract online. I brought a container for your sample too.” You pat the bag across your shoulder. You’re so good at this. So put together. “All you have to do is get in there, say hello, go to the bathroom, and rub one out, ok?”

“Yes,” I reply, mildly annoyed.

“What?” you snap at me as the elevator doors roll open. You put your hand between them and wait for my reply. 

“I’m just not a fan of…the language you use.”

With a high-pitched laugh, you go, “Like rubbing one out? Please. I could have said much worse.” We step out of the elevator, and you head off in a direction that I follow. “I could have said…” you tease.

“Don’t,” I cut you off. Where I grew up, you didn’t speak of anything sexual. It was private, to be said and done behind closed doors.

“Here we are.” You look up at me. “Showtime, soldier.” That wide grin makes the nerves in my stomach tingle.

You knock on the door. My pulse is racing when I hear footsteps. Click, click, click. And then, right before the door opens, you whisper: “Time to jerk off that thick dick of yours and make us some money.”

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me.

—

Our first gig is a married couple. And like you said, all they want is to have a family and start a normal life. The man served in the military too. In another unit, in another country, but he’s a soldier. Just like me. It’s why they liked my profile, they said. Same values. Same type of man. The only difference is that I was lucky I didn’t catch the virus, and he wasn’t.

I shake hands with him while his wife sits on the double bed, listening to your instructions. I have never seen you in a setting like this. But you make them feel at ease. Like what we’re doing isn’t a big deal. It’s an exchange of goods, that’s all. You explain to her that she should be ready, naked, on the bed, on her back, once I’ve made my contribution. I can tell she’s nervous. Tense. Her eyes flick between you, then me. She asks if we’ve done this before.

You lie and say: “His success rate is 98%, so don’t worry.” 

To reassure her, you squeeze the woman’s hand. She’s way older than you, and yet, you’re the one in charge of this whole situation. I exchange a tense smile with the husband as he sits in the armchair beside the bed. He’ll be the one injecting my sperm, to make him feel like he’s part of the process. He’ll father my child after all.

—

I’ve been in this bathroom for ten minutes, sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at the translucent container beside the sink. Ten. Fucking. Minutes. I have never done this before, so I have no idea how to calm down. I thought it would be easy. Jerk off, unload in the container, pass it over, done.

But instead, it’s so hard to stay hard. I am having second thoughts. This woman out there will carry my child. My first kid. That’s major. Fucking major.

“I’ll go check on him.” I hear you chirp from outside the door. Then you walk in without knocking. I can just about tuck my dick back inside my shorts before you shut the door behind you.

“What is taking you so long?” you hiss quietly. 

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap back. You being here isn’t helping; it’s stressing me out.

“They are getting restless. You wanna get paid, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I groan and avert my eyes away from you.

“What do you need? Porn? You can watch it on your phone.”

“I don’t have porn on my phone.”

“You’re joking.”

I glance up to meet your eyes. I’m dead serious.

“Oh my God. Come on, let’s make a baby, soldier. Do you want me to talk you through it?”

“Absolutely not,” I snap back.

“Don’t be such a wuss. Get that cock out.” The next time I look at you, you can tell that I hate the way you speak to me. “What’s your problem?” you hiss under your breath.

“She’s gonna have my baby!” I growl back, trying to be quiet. “That’s crazy.”

“Yes, she will. And you know why? Because you have the healthiest and strongest sperm, and they picked you.” I shake my head and squeeze my cock through my shorts. I’m nowhere near giving that donation. “Listen to me,” you start and step forward before you sink onto your knees between my legs. I stare down at you. All of a sudden, my heartbeat is inside my throat. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be so close to me. Not in this situation.

“If I could pick anyone to have a baby with, it would be you too.”

“What?” I croak out.

Your hands rest on my knees until you brush them up my thighs. “I know you’d make great, healthy babies…” You bat your eyelashes at me, pull your eyebrows together, and jut your lower lip out. My cock is starting to throb. “Who knows…maybe you’d even give me twins or triplets. With that sperm count.” I swallow hard. I am trying to think. Trying to rationalize why what you’re saying isn’t okay. You’re in forbidden territory. “Such a healthy, big and strong soldier, hm?” I close my eyes at your words. “Who wouldn’t want to carry your children? Such a handsome face too…”

My chest rises with my next inhale. When I open my eyes, my vision is glazed with arousal. “Anyone would be lucky to have your genes…” You keep rubbing my thighs, up and down, up and down, creasing my shorts as you do. Your words make me go absolutely nuts. “Just one load…and you’d change a woman’s body forever. That’s insane, isn’t it?”

I nod and start to rub my cock through my shorts. You grin as I do. My breath comes out in heavy, slow puffs; I am getting close. You reach back to grab the container and rest it on the edge of the tub next to me. I look at it and moan. That’s when you get up, but not without bending forward to let me have a look down your cleavage. Fucking hell. Your tits are heaven. 

“Go on, don’t stop. Let’s make a baby, soldier…” you whisper, one hand resting on my shoulder. You lower your eyes when I pull out my cock. “I knew you were big,” you say with a smirk, squeezing my shoulder. Holy shit. I can’t hold it in any longer. You pass over the container and put it in my free hand while I whip my fingers up and down the tip of my cock. I’m in the zone, replaying your words in my head. Over and over and over again. 

Just one load…and you’d change a woman’s body forever. That’s insane, isn’t it?

Yes. Yes, it is.

You’re still there; you’re not leaving. Standing right in front of me, with your hand on my shoulder. Like you’re supervising me. Making sure I do my job. I grunt, tense, and squeeze my eyes shut. I angle my dick down, aiming for the container. “That’s a good boy, show me that big, healthy load full of little swimmers.” Oh my God. That does it. My brain short circuits and my orgasm tears through my body. Several thick, powerful streaks of come splatter against the bottom of the container. I groan loud and low, eyes squinted shut. A whole body shudder skates through me. I keep stroking, pumping more of my load into the container. Fuck. Heavy breaths. Heart beating double-time. I finally lift my gaze to look at you in front of me. Another shudder. I squeeze out one more drop of my seed before you reach down and take the container from me.

“Mmmm…so heavy.” You wink at me and step away. I try and catch my breath as you exit the bathroom immediately. My head is spinning. What just happened? I lean forward, elbows on my thighs, and breathe. My brain is slowly coming back online. You made me come. With your words. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is so wrong. I stare up at the ceiling, but I am still seeing stars. Little spots of lights sprinkled across my vision.

I can’t believe you did that. I can’t believe we did that.

—

You made them sign that I gave them my sample. Then, we left. What happens now is their deal, not ours.

I am still trying to come to terms with what just happened. That I’ve probably just made my first baby with a woman I don’t know. And that you essentially dirty talked me into coming. I am not sure how to feel about it.

So…in the elevator, I ask, “What you said in the bathroom…did you mean it?”

You stare right ahead, holding your handbag in front of you. Like the perfect professional, thinking over your answer. “I helped you get the job done. You couldn’t have done without me.” That doesn’t really answer my question, does it? Before I can say that, you reach into your bag, take out an envelope, and give it to me. “Your share,” you say. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

The elevator dings, its doors open. And then, you walk away. Just like that. “I’ll be in touch!” You call back while I stand still, half a grand in my hand, for one wank. One load. One baby.