The Donor

Avon was zooming down the freeway in a freshly paid-off bright red Maserati, driving 100 in a 70 on a wide-open highway about two hours outside Miami. In his left hand he was gripping both the steering wheel and a 750ml of Ciroc. His right hand was on the back of the neck of Kaycee Fairchild as her sexy lips bobbed up on and down on his monstrous Black cock.

Kaycee Fairchild was an all-American dream girl. Nineteen, bright blond hair, piercing light blue eyes, a naturally perfect set of pearly white teeth and sultry smile, standing about 5'6" with a body that made men drool. Her breasts were an impressive triple-D-cup, perfectly symmetrical with round quarter-sized pink nipples that defied gravity with their firm round shape. She had a meticulously toned waist and flat belly which complemented her thick, juicy thighs plump heart-shaped ass any Kardashian sister could be proud of. Her legs were beautifully sculpted and smooth, if not a little short.

The car was Kaycee's, the Miami vacation they were traveling to was on Kaycee's card, the Black cock in her mouth was all hers as well, at least for the time being. She reached to the cup holder and grabbed her phone for a selfie, smiling for the camera as best she could while she skillfully contained nearly a length of BBC the size of her forearm in her pretty mouth.

Life was slower for Kaycee's older sister Cindy. Cindy had all of the beauty Kaycee had, with none of the wild streak. A recent college graduate of 22, Cindy stood closer to 5'9" with longer legs, a booty that was round and firm, double-D-cup breasts just as symmetrical and shapely as her sister's and a sexy, athletic overall build. While Kaycee was frequently compared to booty models on Instagram and female rappers known more for twerking than lyrics. Cindy looked like a multimillionaire's trophy wife or a fashion model.

Cindy met her current husband Brett when she was a freshman cheerleader at the University of Rhode Island and he was a star cross country runner in his sophomore season. They met within a few weeks of Cindy's time at the university and stuck together all the way through Cindy's four years at URI. Cindy won the Miss Rhode Island beauty pageant her sophomore year at URI and made the New England Patriots cheerleading roster as a junior and senior, but always chose her quiet and hardworking boyfriend over the life of wild partying and debauchery that some of her peers chose. Indeed, Cindy had been dating quiet, introverted and work-focused boys ever since middle school and rarely went more than a weeks between boyfriends.

Cindy and Brett had just married and moved into a small house outside of the city, the down payment of which they had only managed to afford thanks to some inheritance from Brett's relative. Brett had graduated the year before and was working his ass off at an entry-level computer programming position while the directionless Cindy took a part-time job teaching preschool kids after graduating from college. Between mortgage payments, student loans and car bills, the couple was only just barely getting by on their entry-level salaries.

Even though money was tight at the moment, Brett was confident he'd be moving up the ladder and Cindy was sure she'd find a better position, and the newlyweds were already trying for their first child.

It had been about five months since the wedding, five months off the pill and Cindy was beginning to get frustrated about still not being pregnant. Tracking her cycles every month since the wedding, she was finally entering this month's ovulation period and she was eager to get herself knocked up.

Donned in the sexiest set of pink bra and panties she could find from her local Walmart, she lounged on the couch in the living room of their tiny home while she waited for her husband to get home.

Around 7pm, Brett had finally gotten home after yet another brutal day at work as the firm's most junior and low-ranked programmer. His day was brightened by the site of his gorgeous wife waiting for him on the couch, donned in a sensual pink and white bra and lacy hot pink thong. Knowing exactly what day it was, he felt a small jolt of energy rush through his exhausted body and bolted to the couch to carry her to bed.

Brett was a star athlete his entire life, but a year and a half out of his athletic career, his body had seen better days. He almost never made it to the gym anymore and was usually called into work on days he was planning to go for a run. His arms had gone from hard and toned to soft and flabby. His once-chiseled legs and abs had atrophied after a year of desk work, leaving him weaker with less mobility.

Rushing to the couch, he placed his hands around his wife's thighs while she wrapped her hands around his neck and motioned to lift her off the couch. Lifting his wife had once been an easy task, but he found himself forced to strain harder than he was used to just to sit her up. When he attempted to lift her off the couch, he found the weight of her lower body entirely too much for his weakened grip to handle, dropping her onto the couch after lifting her just a few inches. Cindy chuckled, finding his attempt to be cute and endearing. Brett, on the other hand, was frustrated and embarrassed and tried again to lift her up, this time finding his legs and back unable to lift her from the couch into the air and he again had to drop her onto the couch from a few inches.

"Tee-hee-hee! It's ok!" said Cindy, looking as ravishingly sexy as ever. "I have my own legs, you know!"

It wasn't Cindy's fault he couldn't lift her. She had the exact same perfectly toned supermodel body that she had when she won Miss Rhode Island or cheered for Patriots. At 5'9", she probably weighed no more than 135 or 140 pounds, but his body had lost all of the elite strength and mobility he trained for years to obtain in just a year and a half working in an office. He shamefully followed his wife as she skipped to the bedroom, ready for a night of potential baby-making sex.

At the same time, Avon was pulling Kaycee's sports car into the valet at a luxury resort building in Miami while the blonde bombshell walked to the check-in counter, turning heads with every step. She was wearing a skimpy yellow mesh netting over a white bikini, eliciting lustful stares from every man in the room. Avon walked in a few steps behind her and spanked her fat ass loud enough to let everyone know that she was his, causing Kaycee to smile and giggle.

"Have fun playing with that little boner," Kaycee quipped to the bellboy as he finished dropping off a pile of Louis Vutton luggage to Kaycee's luxury suite, causing the small man to scurry off in embarrassment before he could even gesture for a tip. Before the door had even shut behind the bellboy, Kaycee was straddled on top of Avon pulling off her outfit while fantasizing about all the ways she was going to give him the fuck of a lifetime.

Avon was a 6'4" former D1 linebacker with rich dark skin covered from neck to toes in gang tattoos, tree-trunk arms, broad shoulders, an extraordinarily muscled torso and back and thick powerful legs. Kaycee could feel his enormous cock beginning to harden in the sweatpants under her asscheeks and her pussy began to soak.

Within a few seconds, she had pulled down his sweatpants and stood up his cock, now about half-erect and standing easily ten inches in the air. Within a few more seconds she was sliding her naked cunt down the length of his bewitching rod. Within another minute, she had already had her first of many, many orgasms bouncing on top of it.

Cindy, meanwhile, was planning to climb onto the body of another former elite athlete, though one that was far more white, pasty, and out of shape. Brett's cock was about four and a half inches long and the width of a tube of mini-M&M's despite Brett being just shy of six feet tall. Despite it's unimpressive length and girth, it was only the third penis Cindy had ever experienced and probably the largest of all of her boyfriends' and she happily made due with what he had.

Cindy gripped Brett by the face and kissed him passionately, feeling his little cock harden through his pants and push up against her pussy and thigh. Brett quickly pulled down his pants while Cindy removed his shirt. Stripped in seconds to fully nude, Cindy pushed his pale, flabby body onto the bed and jumped on top of him.

As Cindy kissed her husband, she reached her hand down to his cock and began slowly rubbing the shaft between her index finger and thumb. She could feel his heart racing faster and faster.

"Stop!" Brett yelled after a minute or so.

Cindy knew what that meant, Brett was on the edge of ejaculation. This particularly load was needed in her uterus, not on her belly or the bedsheets, so Cindy stopped touching his rod and used her hands to slide down her panties.

Kissing him, she rolled on top of him and lower her moist, warm womanhood onto his rod. His dick felt as it always did, feeling not unlike it felt to stick her own finger inside. She felt a few mild waves of pleasure ripple through her body as she moved up and down on his unremarkable dick.

Brett gripped her asscheeks and tensed his muscles as his heart rate exploded after just a couple of minutes. Both Cindy and Brett knew that he was going to once again blow his load without getting Cindy anywhere near orgasm.

"It's ok baby, just let it off inside of me," Cindy said tenderly, kissing his neck as she continued to bounce her hips on his cock.

"Oh fuck, oh fuuccckkkkkk..." Brett moaned, emitting a small rope of spunk from his cock into her pussy. Cindy couldn't feel the load go in, but knew that he had ejaculated from his moans and his muscle contractions. She gave him one last kiss on the lips and continued to lay on top of him, letting his cock rest in her pussy while it spurted any additional waves of jizz.

Another month, another fresh load of semen in her fertile pussy on her ovulation day. Would this finally be the month?

Ten days later, Cindy took a pregnancy test. Negative, yet again. She got her period a few days later. No pregnancy after six months of trying. As a couple, Cindy and Brett were officially infertile.

Cindy and Brett called their doctor, who sent them to a fertility specialist. She did some tests on both Cindy and Brett's semen, and called the couple in for an appointment a few days later to disclose the results.

"Hello Mr. Smith and Mrs. Fairchild, you can call me Dr. Miller," the physician said as she greeted Cindy and Brett in her office. She was a sexy and sophisticated-appearing thirty-something with bright blonde hair, a fancy-looking white jacket over a button down shirt, unbuttoned to show more than a little of her ample cleavage. She was also wearing a questionably short skirt that towed the line between business casual and inappropriate.

"Your primary care doctor has faxed me your medical records and I was able to review the results of Cindy's bloodwork and Brett's sperm analysis. For these meetings, I find it generally helps to discuss each patient's results alone before we go over the next steps as a couple, just to make sure there is no finger pointing or partner blaming. Mrs. Fairchild, would you mind stepping out for just a few moments while I go over with Brett the results of his semen analysis?"

"Uh, yah, ok, sure!" agreed Cindy, walking out of the room.

"So, Mr. Smith, we got the results of the semen sample you sent in this week. Your semen has severe deficiencies in both the sperm quality and quantity. This isn't to say that the failure to conceive is your fault, as it takes two to make a baby and your sperm is only half of the equation. But I suspect that even with perfect conditions, it might take many months or even years for your sperm to produce a pregnancy. We can talk about things like diet, exercise, clothing choice and supplements, but I suspect that your ceiling sperm count is quite low and always has been. Even after we optimize your sperm count you will still likely face great difficulty in impregnating a partner even in ideal situations. Now do you have any questions?"

"I, uh..."

"No? Perfect, now please step out and send your wife in, Mr. Smith. We have quite a bit to discuss." said the doctor.

Cindy walked in a few moments later after Brett had left.

"Please have a seat, ma'am. There is much for me to tell you."

"Well? What news do you have for me?" Cindy inquired.

"Mrs. Fairchild," said the doctor, trying hard to maintain a professional tone. "Your test results... Well, your TSH, FSH and LH are perfect. Your Anti-Mullerian Hormone level... is the highest I've ever seen, in person or in case reports. Your other labs are immaculate. Mrs. Fairchild, you are by far the most fertile woman I've seen in nearly a decade of clinical practice. I've run your numbers by some of the senior physicians in my department; they've never seen anything quite like this either. If your husband was able to muster up even the slightest hint of competent sperm, you would have been knocked up with twins or triplets on the night you got off the pill."

"Oh my! You mean the problem isn't with me?" Cindy asked.

"Mrs. Fairchild, your husband's semen is subpar in terms of both volume and performance. The quantity of semen produced per ejaculation is subpar, the semen that is emitted is extremely dilute with only a few sperm and the sperm that are present are largely malformed and unable to perform basic motility. It's a classic case of what we in the fertility world colloquially refer to as 'whiteboy sperm'. Unfortunately, many Caucasian males simply don't have the equipment to breed reliably and only manage to impregnate with extremely fertile women like yourself after years or even decades of trying. If you two had sex every day until you hit menopause, you would be extremely lucky to have just two viable pregnancies."

"My goodness! I really wanted to be the type of traditional wife with a huge family! Are you saying that's impossible now?" Cindy replied.

"Whiteboy Sperm is notoriously hard to treat, unfortunately. I don't foresee traditional fertility methods working for you two. Let's get Brett in here so that we can talk about the options that we do have available," said the busty physician.

Brett walked in a few minutes later.

"Ah, Mr. Smith, I was just filling your wife in about your inadequate sperm situation. Your wife passed her fertility tests with flying colors, by the way. Now, please have a seat so I can go over your options," said Dr. Miller.

"So, if you want children that are half-Brett, half-Cindy, the best option would be in vitro fertilization, or IVF. Since Brett's incompetent sperm can't physically reach Cindy's magnificent eggs, IVF will allow the few sperm that are present in his semen to be introduced to the eggs manually and allow for embryos to form. Unfortunately, with your insurance this procedure would not be covered until you fail several years of natural fertilization and will cost about $20,000 without insurance."

"20 grand! We can't afford that!" yelled Brett.

"I'm sure you can't, Mr. Smith. I'm so sorry for your hardship" replied the doctor.

"It's ok, baby! Let's listen to what else the doctor has to say! We can always adopt." said Cindy, trying to comfort her now-weeping husband.

"Now hold on just a second," Dr. Miller interjected. "Babies that are half-Cindy, half-Brett might not be possible without IVF, but we can at least make children that are more closely related than unrelated adoptees."

"What do you mean?" said Brett, holding back his tears.

"Well, with a sperm donor, you could have children that are fifty percent her, even if they are zero percent you. This could be a far less expensive option. Most sperm can be purchased for under $1,000, though I presume a woman like Cindy who's won the genetic lottery in so many ways would prefer one of our premium donors, whose sperm usually costs anywhere from $5000-$8000."

"How the hell can sperm cost 8 grand?" asked Brett.

"Well, your sperm certainly is not," said Dr. Miller, "But your wife here is of exceptional height, desirable weight, has a bachelor's degree, is stunningly gorgeous and is a rare combination of natural blonde with blue eyes. Premium buyers would be willing to pay way more than 8 grand for her eggs. Likewise, men with exceptional genetics are able to sell their sperm at a far higher rate. Why don't I leave you with some profiles of our standard and premium donors, and you two can get back to me with what you want to do. Of course... Actually, nevermind, forget I said it."

"Of course what?" questioned Cindy,

"Well.. of course... a woman like you, Mrs. Fairchild, would have no trouble courting one of these premium donors outside of the context of sperm donation." Dr. Miller said, "I can't endorse it of course, but I'm sure there are plenty of gorgeous six-three hunks with 146 IQ and no genetic diseases who would be happy to, er, plant their seed in you. Just a turkey baster and a specimen cup you can get on Amazon would be all you needed."

"Thanks, I think we're good," said Brett.

"I'll, uh... take a look at the profiles for those sperm donors and get back to you. And don't count us out for IVF just yet!" Cindy replied.

The couple left the meeting, Brett despondent and Cindy hopeful.

When they got home, Brett initiated the conversation.

"So we know what we have to do right? Just try to have kids naturally for now. If a miracle happens, it happens. If not, well, I can save up for IVF over a few years," Brett said sternly.

"Babe. You're not gonna be able to raise 20 thousand. We can barely afford mortgage payments and student loan payments as it is, and-"

"Then I'll get a raise! I'll get overtime!" Brett retorted.

"But babe... there are better ways to do this... I mean, Dr. Miller said for herself, my eggs could fetch a ton of money if I were to donate them..." Cindy replied.

"No way! What if something happens and there's a complication! You need all the eggs you have, honey!" Brett said.

"Ok... well, you're gonna kill me but my sister Kaycee..." Cindy started.

"Nah-uh. No way. You can't beg your LITTLE SISTER for money! I don't care how much she has." Brett added pridefully.

"It wouldn't be a handout... Babe, you know she makes a ton of money from OnlyFans and has been begging me to-"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Absolutely not! I'm not gonna be some porn star's husband cuckold!" Brett yelled.

"No baby, I wasn't suggesting anything like that! I just meant, like a sister-sister photoshoot. Just bikinis, no nudity no fucking anyone else. You know Kaycee just posts sexy pictures on there right? No porn or anything. She says she just posts the same sexy pics she takes for her man and dudes line out the door to pay for it. She said she'd split the money with me if I ever did a shoot with her! I can take some special pics just for you..." Cindy begged.

"No way. I can't stand the way that every man looks at you with your clothes fully on, let alone let those simps ogle you in a bikini with that whore sister of yours! Out of the question! I'd rather use a sperm donor at that point!" Brett interjected.

It was exactly the response Cindy was looking for. She had him right where she wanted him.

"So you say you're ok with a sperm donor! Baby! That's so exciting!" she said, hugging his face to her chest before he had a chance to disagree or clarify what he meant. "Let's go make a baby to celebrate," she whispered in his ear.

Four minutes later, Cindy had a thin sticky load shot on her tummy and was in bed looking at profiles for sperm donors while Brett was cleaning up in the bathroom.

Too short, too heavy, cheekbones too low, jawline too round, not athletic enough, no Italians, no Turkish, no Greeks. Not smart enough. Not handsome enough. Not strong enough. Cindy couldn't find a donor she was happy with, even in the catalogue of premium donors costing seven or eight grand each.