An Asexual Breeding

"I'm surprised you didn't just find an asexual guy," I began, then corrected myself. "Or rather, asexual sperm donor more generally."

"Given how awkward this is for you, can you imagine if I were trying to do this with someone else like me? It would be a non-starter," Kelly said.

"Fair enough."

She was taking a risk, giving me a taste but not letting me drink. I tried to stay grateful for just the taste, when I went back for the third night in a row, and spilled my seed into her again. I wondered if this would be the time that did it, or if it was already done. If the goal was accomplished, maybe we'd leave it at that, and never do it again, never go any further. I knew I had to be okay with that.

Even so, this odd sort of sex life was sustaining me. Not that I was spending much of my time seeking out potential dates anyway, but now I felt even less motivated. Why bother, when I had Kelly, to a certain extent? Plus if I did anything to risk my sexual health, I might be disqualified. I was convenient, and presumed effective, but I knew I was replaceable.

We went out to lunch, grabbing sandwiches to go so that we could talk in private. Kelly told me her period had come again. Another month wasted. She had already gotten checked out by her doctor, and asked me to get a sperm count done, just to check that there was a point to all of this.

It felt pretty odd, approaching my doctor to find out if I was potent. I was glad the doc didn't ask who I was planning to knock up, or why. I wasn't sure how to explain the situation.

"I got the results back," I told her.

"So what's your count?"

"They didn't give me a precise number," I admitted. "I think the medical term they used was 'plenty'."

"Then I don't know what's going on," Kelly said. This was serious for her, and I got that she was tired of trying and tired of waiting.

"It's only like a 30% chance each month," I said, keeping my voice carefully low. "So it's normal for it to take a few months, but we'll get you there."

Next time she was ovulating, she invited me over again. This time, she didn't have the chairs set up at all.

"On the floor this time?" I asked, as I undressed.

"Just lay back on the bed," she said. She led me to the edge and lay me down on my back. My knees were dangling off the edge.

She got up on the bed with me, and straddled my waist. "Can I count on you not to move?"

"Or else you'll tie me up?"

"I might, if it comes to that," she replied. It wasn't entirely a joke.

"I'll do my best," I said.

She reached down and guided the tip of my cock into her cleft, and then she sank down on it. I felt her envelope and surround me, all the way down to the base, as her weight came to rest on my hips. It was exquisite, and she was right, my body was calling out to move, to pull away if only to thrust back into her just as deep. But she just sat there, upright on my lap.

"I worried that last time I didn't get your semen deep enough," she said. "Too much distance to the egg."

"How should I jack off like this?" I asked.

"You shouldn't have to," she said.

She started to caress herself, at the nape of her neck, running a hand through her hair, grabbing at her breast. With every touch she made herself shiver, and with every shiver, I could feel it reverberate to her core, where I was nestled. The vision of her on top of me, looming over me, was everything I had imagined.

I wanted to moan her name, but I thought that might only break the spell. She was right. When she started to pleasure herself, I could feel all the muscles inside her moving, squeezing, pushing and pulling on me. I doubted she was doing it for my benefit, but I could feel it acting on me all the same.

I longed for something to do with my hands, my mouth. But I had to just clench my fists at my side, and bite my lip.

Her orgasm was building-I wondered how much of that was due to the presence and pressure of me inside her-and then the dam broke. She cried out for only herself, and I could feel something in her undulating, spasming, contracting around me.

It was just enough to bring me to a peak, one unlike any I'd ever had before. When she felt it-every microscopic interaction between us was magnified-it stifled her breath as a new wave of orgasm tore through her. I knew my ejaculate had to be fountaining up inside of her. I could feel the warmth of it spreading around me, before it soaked into her recesses. I pulsed inside her, and it goaded her on, despite herself. It was some time before that orgasm-that we shared more of than she would have liked to admit-released us from its grasp.

I went home that night, feeling more satisfied than ever before. Maybe I still wasn't quite getting what I wanted out of it. I wanted to thrust into her. I wanted to kiss her hard on the lips and dance against her tongue. I wanted to eat her out. And I knew she wanted none of these things. But what we had was intense. I figured she would be on her way to motherhood in no time.

In the office the next day, I started to find it harder not to look at her, not to admire her, not to change how I treated her, after we'd been so intimate, even if she didn't seem to think of it that way.

To her, she was still just masturbating, and I was there just to deliver sperm to her waiting egg. To her, there was no "us". Whether or not she noticed the ways our bodies fed off each other and fed into each other, she didn't acknowledge it.

That night, the newness of it had worn off a bit. Sitting on my crotch, impaled on my erection, she diddled herself to orgasm. I could feel every movement within her in raw detail, particularly when that orgasm came crashing down on her, roaring through her, her muscles dancing to the rhythm of life. Yet it wasn't quite enough. All of it fell just short of pushing me over the precipice, so by the end, I was awkwardly still hard, trying and failing to will myself the rest of the way there.

"You didn't finish?" she asked bluntly. We both knew by now that she would've felt it if I had.

"No," I said. "Sorry."

"It's okay. What do you need?"

"If you can just roll your hips back and forth, at least a little bit..."

She started to rock, slowly, just a little. It opened up a new dimension between us. It was like seeing in a new color. Deep inside her, I could feel her vaginal walls massaging me on every side, the tip of my cock pressing now a little deeper, retreating slightly only to press in again. I could see, by the look of distant concentration on her face, that this was taking her to new heights as well.

I knew I was pushing the boundary between us, at least a little bit, and I didn't dare cross the line for too long. It didn't take me long to feel the pressure build to the point of breaking, and I let it crash. In that moment, I couldn't help it, my hands held her hips tight to me, as I pressed up into her with all I had, further into her than I'd been, hopefully enough to reach the target inside her.

She whimpered, first from that, and then from the jet of my load. She fell forward, bracing herself on an arm, her face above mine, not close enough to kiss, and still forbidden. Her chest heaved, gasping for breath, all of the tension melting out of her. She was sweaty by then, strands of her hair sticking to her reddened face. It was hard to believe then that this was Kelly, the woman I had worked next to for years, the woman who would never couple with anyone.

"Thanks," I muttered, to let her preserve the story that she had done it for my enjoyment and not for hers.

The next night, we were still planning to stop after those three nights, and see if what I gave her took root. I wasn't sure what to expect. We had crossed a line into what most people would call fucking, and I felt like there wasn't much pretense left to maintain, but I knew Kelly might see it differently.

We went straight to her bedroom and undressed. Kissing, foreplay, all of that was for people who were having sex, people in some kind of relationship, and that's not what we were. I kept having to remind myself.

When we were both standing in the bedroom naked, I asked, "What's the play, coach?"

"I know this might sound weird," she began. "I'd be more comfortable just using you as a dildo."

"Okay. No problem."

She laid down on the edge of the bed, her legs splayed wide. At first she started to just pleasure herself, as I had now seen her do plenty of times. Then she reached for me, reached for my cock, and I brought it close enough for her to grab. With one hand on the base of my penis, she directed it down to her slit, sliding it along her labia, and then parting them, she nudged it into her folds, just barely penetrating her, and then her hand went back to her clit.

Playing the role of her toy, I held still as much as I could, right where she left me. I worried she was going to leave me there while she pleasured herself, but then she reached for me again, pulling or pushing me in, and then drawing me out. I moved in concert with her hand, as if it was her moving my erection in and out of her. She was soaking wet, and we slid against each other easily.

Even though she was directing my every thrust-the depth, the angle, the speed-this was more stimulating than anything we'd done, for both of us. She started to push and pull me faster and harder. I was so close, and every fiber of my being was telling me to just mount her, just drive myself into her as deep and hard as I could, and hold myself tight to her when I came. But I had to play the role of her toy, so instead I was still moving at her pace, where she wanted it, when I started to cum. It was almost too much. When she felt it, the fingers on her clit sped furiously, and through clenched teeth I could hear her grunt. She kept plunging me in and out of her until she was completely spent.

After that night, I thought for sure that would be the end of it, that now she would carry her child. I could hardly call it mine. What we'd been doing would come to a natural end. Somehow, day after day, Kelly betrayed no hint to anyone of the things we'd been up to, and I tried to follow her example. I could see she was stressed though, about trying for so long with no success.

Another negative test. She had it in her bag, and snuck me a peek at it. Even though this was going to be her baby, she knew I was rooting for her. The longer this went on, it seemed like the longer this could drag out. For me, trying to get pregnant was the fun part, but I knew she didn't want to keep trying indefinitely. She wanted to move on to the next stage, and leave my participation behind.

I still believed Kelly being a mother was going to be a reality sooner or later, and probably sooner. She seemed ripe for it. When I looked at her, it wasn't hard to imagine her belly swelling up with a baby made from our DNA. It wasn't hard to imagine an infant suckling at her breasts. Her frame was built to carry it, her hips wide enough to push it out. All systems seemed to be go for launch.

By now, I pretty much knew when she'd be asking me over to her house, and the email came through about when I expected. She had mentioned once that she could tell when she was ovulating. It was a Friday night, not that I had anywhere else in particular to be.

When I arrived at her house, she seemed extra anxious this time, but she didn't mention why at first. While we hadn't done this in close to a month, there was little catching up to do, since we saw each other every day. She led me into her bedroom, and slipped out of her clothes quickly, efficiently. I stripped too, but it seemed like she was in more of a rush.

"How do you want to handle it this time?" I asked.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, maybe to still her knees. "Hear me out. We've been trying this my way for months now, and for whatever reason, it hasn't worked out. But you've done this before, successfully. I thought maybe, for thoroughness, maybe we should try it your way for once."

She phrased it like she was trying to talk me into it. And to be fair, she had made a similar proposition back when we first started all this, and I had turned it down. But I realized she also had to psyche herself up.

"As far as we know, it's just a matter of probability. It doesn't really matter which way we..." I said. I wanted to give her a chance to reconsider. "I still don't want you to change to please me."

"I haven't changed. And I'm not doing this to please you," she said.

"Regardless, please don't do anything you're not comfortable with, on my account."

"Trust me, I'm not going to," she said. "But I might need you to clue me in on how this normally goes."

I sat next to her on the edge of the bed, putting my arm around her. "It typically starts with a kiss."

She turned towards me, and my lips found hers. I guess I was hoping in that moment that some sort of magic would transform us into a couple. That this would be the start of our romance.

Her lips against mine were soft and full, but passionless. It reminded me that she wasn't driven by attraction to me or affection for me or lust for me. I didn't really enter into it at all, as anything more than a friend. Maybe a close friend. Maybe the kind of friend who got too close while helping her out of a sticky situation. Feeling her not responding to my kiss the way I was used to, it didn't make me feel like going through with this, but I knew I had a role to play, just like she did.

"Just...focus on your body...on what you're feeling," I told her between our kisses.

My hands started to roam her contours, freely for the first time, maybe the only time. I ran a hand through her hair, and she gasped at the slightest bit of tension. It gave me hope that maybe we could actually do this. My kisses trailed down her jawline, to her ear, and then her neck, where I knew she was sensitive.

"You asked what I masturbate to, and I left one thing out," she said, just above a breathless whisper. "I've also found myself getting aroused at the idea of getting pregnant."

"Maybe tonight you will," I said.

"Why only maybe?"

"I'll do my best," I said, before moving on to her breasts, laying her down on the bed.

I let one hand follow the curve and crease of her hip to the slit between her legs, finding her sticky with arousal. Only one part of me had ever touched her there before, and she jumped a little at the feeling of my fingers. Once she wasn't so surprised, she splayed her thighs wider for me. I had no trouble finding the clit I'd seen her work so many times before. Eventually I kissed my way down her abdomen, until my mouth reached her lips.

"I don't think I can get pregnant from this," she said, though she pressed her hips up to meet my mouth.

"It's all part of the process," I assured her when I came up for air.

I didn't mean to get her off, but it happened quickly and suddenly, her hands gripping at her breasts, as my tongue lapped her clit. I felt her tighten down on my fingers inside her, her back arching, a cry escaping her throat.

When she came down from it, I climbed up on the bed, hovering over her. The tip of my cock pressed gently into her folds. For a moment, I savored the feeling. There had been a time when this was as far as I could go. Now as I edged slightly into her and withdrew, I was in control. I could feel her react whenever my flesh pierced hers, and I could sense her reluctance whenever we parted again.

Then I let myself delve further into her, watching the reaction in her half-lidded eyes. I could feel her walls sliding against me. Her chest rose and fell under mine. We settled into a rhythm, and there was no point denying what she felt from it. She was still sensitive from her orgasm, and moved in time with my every thrust. If it had been anyone else, I might have kissed her again then, but I didn't want the reminder of the difference between us.

I thought I might be able to bring her to orgasm again this way, but as much as I tried to act composed, my own intensity built more quickly. We'd had sex of some kind before, but this was the first time I could fuck her at my pace. The first time I could push as deep into her as I wanted to go, pulling her body tight to mine. Compared to what we'd done before, this was an overwhelming amount of stimulation.

"I'm about to cum," I warned her.

"That is the point," she replied.

Her words might've been indifferent, but her body wasn't. My lips to her neck again, my hand in her hair, she was on the precipice herself. When the moment came, I pushed myself as deep into her as I could, holding her hips tight to mine. My cock swelled up and pressed something in her that made her whimper with anticipation. Then my seed started to flow. It felt like it was all rushing out of me at once, except that there was more coming a breath behind.

When Kelly felt it, it pushed her over the edge. I don't know if it broke down her inhibitions or if her instincts took over, but her legs hooked behind mine, pinning me close. Her hands dug at the muscles of my back. I could feel every muscle within her working its hardest to squeeze my sperm out of me and deep into herself. Her vaginal walls contracted around my erection, bringing me to wave after wave of orgasm, while the swelling of my cock within her, the jet after jet of my hot seed, brought her to peak after peak.

It was some time before either of us could release the other from our desperate grip.

"If that doesn't do it, I don't know what will," I said.

"Well it feels like you're still erect," she said, and I felt her playfully, gently squeeze me inside of her.

"Huh. So I am."

"What's the play, coach?" she asked with a bit of a smirk.

I climbed off of her for a moment and guided her to roll over onto her hands and knees, her buttocks in the air. I slipped back into her from behind, and started thrusting into her in long strokes, each time pulling away until I was nearly free of her. I could feel her body react to every ingress, and in this position I got to admire the back of her curvy form from above.

She slipped a hand down between her legs to finger herself, and it wasn't long until she came again, her chest heaving with gasped, choked breaths. Her body clenched down on me, demanding more of my seed. But I had more control this time.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked. Yes, she was impatient, but there was more to it. A physical need.

"What is it that you want me to do?" I asked teasingly.

"I want you to cum inside me," she gasped. "I want you...to knock me up."

"Tell me when you feel it," I said, about to lose control. With my hands on her buttocks, I pressed hard against her, as I swelled up and poured more of myself into her.

"I feel it...every...time!" she cried, reacting to each jet of my potent seed, her pussy contracting around me, everything in her dead-set on getting my sperm to her egg.

By then we were both sweaty and exhausted and covered in bodily fluids, and I had to let my weight down on her bed. It had taken so much out of me that I felt light-headed.

"Would it be okay if I spend the night here?" I asked.

"Is that part of the process?" she asked. By her tone, I could tell it was a yes.

It felt surreal to awaken in Kelly's bed, completely naked, nestled against her naked form. I kissed the back of her neck, and felt her stir from her sleep. Cautiously, I reached an arm around her waist, and one of her hands guided mine to her breast. Her breath caught when I started to fondle her, and her buttocks pressed back against my hardening erection. I reached down and found her slit already hot and seeping.

Lining myself up, I pressed into her from behind as we both lay on our sides. We rutted almost lazily that time, and I indulged myself by drawing it out. I didn't know if this would ever happen again. But eventually we both felt a need to bring the act to its natural completion.