A Remarkably Potent Man

I felt a hand on my shoulder and a stern, "Take a break, brother." I was startled, forgetting for a moment Tamara's husband Ray and I were playing tag team tonight. He had just tapped me out. I stood aside as Ray inserted his eleven-incher into his wife.

"Ohhhh Baby!" screamed Tamara between gasps.

Ray slowed the pace which made Tamara that much more frantic. Her hands scrabbled back past her thighs hoping to pull him in tighter. When that didn't work, she rocked back and forth faster on her knees. Her tits swung underneath and the sides of Ray's cock glistened in the half light with each stroke.

I dropped into a reading chair by the door to catch my breath and looked around. The walls were filled with memorabilia of adventures they'd shared. Even with their long relationship, there was still energy and passion between them. Tamara and Ray had a good life, and I envied them.

"That's crazy good!" yelled Tamara from the bed. "That's it, that's it, that's it!" Ray's thighs slapped against his wife's ass, and his guttural moans confirmed he was working to a climax.

I thought to myself, I want what they have. I want to mean more to somebody than just a semen dispenser. I want...

"I want the white boy in me now!" shouted Tamara.

Ray stood by the bed shuddering and stroking his cock. Tamara had pulled herself up on the bed and spread herself out on her back. She rubbed her fingers impatiently over a pussy that seemed to glow. Her dark eyes were fixed on me, her breasts jiggled and her breath caught with each jolt of pleasure as I approached. "C'mon, Honey, my eggs is all shook loose. and I ain't got all day," she insisted.

It was time for the money shot.

"Have you been a bad boy?" asked Nancy.

I stared at the ceiling in the extraction room, reluctant to answer. My balls still ached from the previous evening with Tamara and Ray. Nancy was doing her level best between my legs to coax a little life into my junk. I was drained and had nothing to offer the depository today.

"I guess so," I admitted.

"Mmmm?" asked Nancy.

"Don't you get tired of all of this?" I asked rhetorically. "I mean, it all seems so... tawdry. This isn't how I want to live my life."

"Unk unk." replied Nancy

I angled my head up on the table to watch Nancy. My legs were draped over the end of the table and she was making a last attempt to extract something from me with her mouth. Her head bobbed as I continued."Is it bad to want what everyone else has? Like a regular job or a regular relationship? A human connection?" I asked.

I could feel Nancy's tongue tickle the underside of my semi-erect penis as she reluctantly withdrew it. She waved my it around playfully with a smile and drew my balls into her mouth, savoring each, one last time.

A few moments later, Nancy got up and undid by shackles. She stood between my legs, dribbled a little lube on them and rubbed her hands up and down my thighs.

"You have a runner's body," she said appreciatively.

"Actually, I ride a bicycle." I said.

She smiled coyly and said, "Shhhh."

"You're too tense," she added and I could feel her fingers digging progressively deeper into my muscles. When her hands reached my hips, she caught my eye and flicked her head a little to have me move further up on the padded table. I elbowed myself back.

Nancy wiped her hands on a towel and said, "Before all this happened, I would have been called a slut, a whore, a prostitute. You know, making men cum for money? Now it's just a regular job, but still..." She closed her eyes recalling a memory, before continuing. "Women like me? We don't get to make connections."

She was stuck in the system just like me.

"So, you don't want to play the whore any more. Just what DO you want?" asked Nancy.

"I guess, I just want something... real,"I said.

I watched her turn slowly back to the table and crawl up on top of me from between my legs. Her tits dangled below her as she inched up on all fours, stopping briefly to brush her fingers through the hair around my navel. When her face came level with my chest she examined my USDA tattoo closely. "Stock: PAUL0045." she read aloud without emotion.

Nancy kissed me ever so lightly and then placed her head ear to ear with mine on the pad. She settled her body over mine like a blanket. Her breathing slowed and her muscles relaxed. Through the skin of my chest I could feel her heartbeat sync with mine.

"Paul is a nice name," Nancy mumbled.

I said nothing. I had never felt so comfortable in my life and didn't want to break the moment.

"We'll have to change it." she said.

"Here is a name for you; Lola Stark," I said.

Anthony raised is eyebrows and said, "Oof, you mean Reginald Stark's wife? The billionaire?"

I nodded and said, "Yeah, she was my very first. You'd think a septuagenarian's wife might be unappealing, but Lola was Reginald Stark's fourth wife, and was still under 35. Her taut body was, well, the best that money could buy. Reginald was addicted to his young wife, and Lola was addicted to excess. I was hired to deliver the one thing her husband couldn't give her."

"Wowzer!" said Anthony. He wiped the bar top absently as he listened to my story. "That must have been something."

"Yeah," I said, "We fucked by the pool in the open air, which made me feel super awkward. Lola had this deeply tanned body with triangular patches of pale skin around her nipples and crotch. My skin glowed in the bright sun, which just made my moles seem much more prominent. When Lola unpinned and shook out her luxuriant hair it framed a perfect almond-shaped face and dazzling smile. And me? I kept my mouth closed hoping she wouldn't notice my crooked teeth. The woman took my hand and led me to a wide day bed in a circle of brilliant light. I'm sure her husband was watching us from a third floor study. Probably with an antique brass telescope."

The bartender chuckled and closed his eyes for a few moments to visualize the scene. "Man, " he said, "I bet the pressure to perform was enormous. How'd it work out?"

"Well, to her credit," I continued, "Lola looked past my faults and showed me real...hunger. She ran her hands over my body in a way that made me feel wanted. Our foreplay was long and wet, and she savored every second. She sucked me enthusiastically, like she had never seen such an impressive dick. When I entered her, I could feel her vitality soaking into my soul with every breath, with every gasp."

I paused and said, "When it was over, old man Stark had gotten what he paid for, and I walked out a different man. I was a well-seasoned stud--a grade A, invincible mother fucker eager to remake the world."

Anthony grinned and bobbed his head, "All right, man!" He reached over the bar to fist-bump me. I grinned a little sheepishly and said, "Ah yes, Lola was the best ever, and... she ruined me."

"Huh?" asked the confused bartender.

I stirred my drink and cocked my head to look around the room as I gathered my thoughts. "You see," I said. "Every woman since Lola was a little less exciting, and a lot more humiliating. Sure, my rep is good and demand for my services is high, but it's not at all fun or satisfying. The job has become tedious and depressing, and every day, I think I've missed something important."

A look of concern crossed, Anthony's face, and he dunked a beer glass and set it with the others to dry.

"How did I become a sperm-delivering, fuck toy, kept hidden in the closet for fecund women who could care less about who I am?" I asked rhetorically.

From the far end of the bar a guy hollered at Anthony, "Hey can we get some drinks down here?" Anthony called back, "I'll be right there! Hold your horses!" Then he leaned on the bar with genuine apprehension, and said, "Sounds like you've thought about this a lot. So what are you gonna do?"

"I'm tired of thinking about it, man," I admitted. "I'm getting OUT of the business. I asked Nancy, my extractor, to mark my sperm samples as 'degraded' so I won't be asked to contribute to the national depository. I purged myself from the online stores and I am crafting a new, anonymous identity, so nobody will recognize on the street any more..."

"Good for you," said Anthony, nodding again. The bartender held up a finger and said, "Excuse me a sec." He walked down to the end of the bar to tend to his other customers.

Yeah, my appointment book may be filled with check marks, but there is still one left. Tonight I have one last contract to fill. One more woman... to fill.

I took a slug of my drink and a deep breath.

Like with many of the others, I'll be picturing Lola to get it up.

The message on my cell phone with the address was punctuated with hearts and flowers. "Looking forward to seeing you!" it said. It was a motel on the edge of the city with letters on the doors, instead of numbers. I shook my head as I shuffled over the cracked asphalt. This is how far my career has fallen-- from mansions to a seedy roadside motor court.

There was some shuffling about in the room when I knocked. A few second later, the door opened and a woman presented herself. The first thing I noticed was her feet- delicate toes with red painted nails in strapped sandals. Her ankles joined smooth calves which connected with dimpled knees to toned thighs. She was wearing a satin robe, belted at the waist but, from the hang of her breasts, there is nothing underneath. Her face was turned down as if she was examining her appearance, and wavy blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and onto her chest. As she raised her head, she smiled widely with sparkling pale blue eyes.

"Beatrice?" I asked stunned, suddenly recognizing Pete's girlfriend.

"Hi Paul!" she said brightly. "Thank you for coming," she added as she took my hand, guided me in and closed the door.

"But, I'm supposed to be meeting -er- 'Jacqueline?''" I said, still confused.

Beatrice ignored me for a moment as she loosened the belt on her robe and let it hang open. Her breasts hung ripe and ready, and the freckled skin on her chest flushed. Her smile settled and her eyes dared me to look away. But I couldn't. I felt a welcome rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"You can have me, all of me." she said as her arms encircled my waist. She pulled our bodies together, tilted her head, closed her eyes and kissed me. I felt her mouth open against mine as her tongue dipped into my mouth. The heat from her body radiated the scent of Jasmine between us and my nostrils opened wide to catch it all.

Suddenly, guilt descended on me like a hammer. I pushed her away.

"No, No, NO!" I exclaimed. "This isn't right. I can't. I can't DO this!"

Beatrice looked confused and startled. "Of course you can!" she insisted. "I paid for you. This is what you do." She dropped her robe, raised her arms over her head and twisted her nude body around to tease me."You see?" she asked. "I want it. I want to be fucked by you."

I sat heavily on the hard motel bed with my head in my hands. "Pete is my best friend. I can't do this," I muttered.

Undeterred, Beatrice turned around, bent at the waist and shook her ass in my face. "C'mon Paul," she said. "Put your dick in my pretty little pussy!"

I closed my eyes and remembered Lola and the countless other woman who've had me inside them. We may have shared intercourse, but they've all just cast me off like a worthless spent tube of toothpaste when the deed was done. Now, even my best friend's girlfriend has asked me to betray him... For what? Fifteen

minutes of unprotected sex and a baby Pete may not even be ready for?

Suddenly, Beatrice stopped gyrating. She picked up her robe and covered herself. The bed squeaked as she sat down beside me. The air blowing from the noisy in-room conditioner suddenly felt icy.

"It's not what you think," said Beatrice quietly as she hung her head, and curled an errant lock of hair over her ear.

I turned to her. She was crying.

"I love Pete. I really do." She said. "He's a good man, and I don't want to lose him."

I nodded, but didn't understand where she was going with this.

She paused before continuing, collecting her thoughts. "I just thought,... I just wanted have a little more...adventure... before..." She sobbed.

"Before?" I asked.

She turned to me. Her eyes were red and watery and her face wore a look of profound disappointment. It occurred to me, she had a secret she was keeping, something she truly needed to share.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

I quit my job, grew a beard and now call myself Paolo-- although Nancy still calls me "Fucker" (in an affectionate sort of way.)

She and I moved in together, and our working plan now is to open a restaurant, maybe one that serves only breakfast. I don't really have many other skills, but I make great pancakes. Nancy says she loves my pancakes. So, maybe that's what we'll do, or maybe not. What matters most is that we're doing this together.

Of course, we stepped into this relationship carefully, because neither of us had felt free to bond with another human in the past. It took a while to get past that 'playing-house' phase, but I trust her now--enough to share dreams for the future and confidences of my past.

Nancy and I were still entangled in the bed sheets on a bright morning when I told her the story of my last appointment with Beatrice. The coffee maker had clicked on at the usual time and the rich aroma of brewed dark roast wafted through the house. Nancy's eyes sparkled in the slanted sunlight from the Venetian blinds and her hand lazily traced the hairs on my chest as I finished.

"So, you see, Beatrice had it in her head that she needed to sample more men before settling down. She figured I had more sexual experience than any guy she knew, and I was also a safe lay because she knew I'd never want to say anything to Pete. Plus, she was already pregnant," I explained.

"How did THAT happen?" asked Nancy.

I stretched and didn't answer right away.

"Did she see one of your competitors?" she prompted.

"No," I replied.

"Artificial insemination?" she guessed.

I shook my head, "Nope."

Nancy shook me playfully and said, "So tell me!"

I sighed and said, "Apparently, Pete's not shooting blanks. At least not ALL blanks."

Nancy said, "Oh, that's wonderful!"

Yeah, that is wonderful, isn't it? If Pete figured it out maybe there IS a future for humanity with or without my insemination services. I sure hope so, because Nancy and I have left that life behind.

"Hey, by the way..." I said grinning, "Pete and Beatrice credit their pregnancy to a technique they learned from YOU."

"From me?" she asked.

"Yeah," I laughed. "Every time they make love, Beatrice stands on her head in the corner."

"Well, I'll be.." said Nancy thoughtfully, "It certainly didn't work for me."

I suddenly had a warm notion about love and family, so I rolled over and spread Nancy's legs apart. She giggled as I pressed my cock into her. As my thrusts increased in depth and speed, I huffed out, "I don't...think... you'll.... need... THAT... again." She grasped my butt with both hands and pulled me in deep.

***