By Charles Smythe.
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.