Valentine's Day at the Sperm Bank

My name is Jack and I love women, all types of women. Just a little background: I played football (middle linebacker) at the University of Texas and graduated six years ago with a degree in sports management. Like most athletes not good enough for the pros, I searched for a job I could do, but sports management wasn't it. Now I sell new cars for a BMW dealership owned by my uncle.

I'm one of the few salesmen who enjoy selling to women and have been very successful, averaging 20 units a month. I treat them as knowledgeable buyers, with respect, and never try to bullshit them into buying "extras" they don't need. With the resources now online, all potential buyers come with some knowledge of the models and trim levels, the actual selling prices and the consumer advice shown on YouTube. Women are no exception. Sometimes, younger women buying their first car will flirt with me, thinking I might give them a better deal. I enjoy that and keep a $100 in my "pocket" to give them at the last minute, just to reward their effort.

I've seriously dated more than 25 women since graduation. A "serious" date is one where I've spent at least one night in bed doing naughty things with the lady. Valentine's Day is always special. I enjoy taking a new love interest to a great restaurant, drinking fine wine and, hopefully, get lucky later that evening. My amorous efforts are often rewarded, but not always.

With the economic slowdown and rising interest rates, car sales have dropped over the past year. To supplement my income, I applied to be a sperm donor which pays about $100 per high quality vial. I usually donate a couple of times per month, and it seems my sperm is in high demand. At least the manager at the facility is routinely calling me to donate.

One of the other salesmen told me about a new sperm bank opening just a mile away from our dealership. He and I normally drive 25 miles each way to donate. I volunteered to check it out.

I called and was told it would be five days, February 14th, before I could get an appointment. I've never had to wait more than one day. The lady on the phone told me that they were overwhelmed with donors requesting appointments. What the hell? Sperm banks are always begging for donors. This puzzled me. I made the appointment to see what was so different at this new place. She e-mailed the forms for me to complete and return prior to my appointment.

I arrived at the facility and saw a couple of BMWs parked outside. One was a convertible that our dealership was having a hard time getting - a very expensive model and trim.

A young woman greeted me and checked their computer to confirm all my information had been received. I was escorted to a private room to wait for a "donor assistant," whatever that was. While waiting, I was struck by what was in the room and what was not. Normally, there would be sealed collection cups on a table, a stack of men's mags, a laptop for watching porn and a stack of paper towels and a canister of wet wipes. Since donors are not allowed to use any sort of lubricant, even saliva, to make our masturbation easier, we had to depend on visual images to help us. Its not as easy as you might think.

In the room was a medical examination bed with several pillows, a sink with hot and cold water, a storage cabinet and a table with several vacuum sealed bags that were not transparent. There were no magazines or a laptop or anything to help us with visual imaging and masturbation.

After five or six minutes, a young lady entered and greeted me. Her name was Natalie. Damn, she was a fine-looking woman in her early twenties with long blonde hair and a figure men like me dream about. I probably stammered and stuttered more than normal but don't remember. She erased many of my previous memories of beautiful women.

Natalie interviewed me, primarily to verify some of the history I gave on the forms. She had also confirmed that I was a routine donor at the other sperm bank, and they had sent a copy of my donor records to her. It turned out that the same company owned both the old and new facilities.

I asked about the lack of any visual resources to help me donate. Natalie said this facility was trying a new procedure and promised to explain it when she returned. She walked out and I waited another five minutes.

When she returned, she was wearing only a surgical gown, the kind patients wear with the opening in the back and little strings to tie it together to keep from flashing everyone. That shocked me.

She walked to the table to open one of the vacuum sealed bags. Her lovely bottom seemed to be peeking at me from an opening in her gown. She was obviously naked, and something was up, namely interest by my donor tool. She opened the bag and brought it to show me the device.

"Jack, this is an invention for capturing semen. It was developed by our company, and this is the first facility to try it. So far, it's working like a charm. This oversized condom-like sleeve fits over your penis and these straps fasten around your waist to hold it in place. Your semen collects in the end of the sleeve in this reservoir. The inside is sterile, of course.

I was stunned. "You mean that I have to jerk off with that sleeve on?"

"No, you're not going to masturbate. In fact, nothing is going to touch your erection except this sleeve."

"I don't understand how you expect me to do that. I need something to help."

She took off her gown and stood totally naked. I now understood. Her body was sexier than I thought.

"Jack, I'm your visual and sensory stimulant. My body is available for you to use however you want. You're not allowed to insert anything into my vagina or rectum but otherwise, I'm your helper. Do you want me to lay on the bed?"

It seemed like a minute, but was probably just a few seconds, before I could process what she said.

"Yes, please lay there and put this pillow under your bottom. I want to pay homage to your beautifully bare pussy."

She smiled and quickly did as requested. She also put up the foot/leg stirrups. I could tell Natalie had done this many times and was an expert in how they worked. She raised her bottom, slipped a pillow under it, and lay back on the bed. Her legs opened and she put her feet up in the stirrups. Her bare vulva was beautiful with all the pink parts open for my attention. I could feel extreme pressure in my cock and wasn't sure I could last until I licked that gorgeous pussy.

I sat on a chair just in front of her crotch, slowly leaned in and gave a few tentative licks to her clit hood. The fragrance from her vulva reminded me of ripe peaches. All the other pussies I'd eaten smelled musty or had a slight urine smell. Not Natalie's.

I could see her anus clearly and began long slow licks starting in her butt and ending on her clit. This continued several minutes as her clit swelled, turned red and secretions seeped from her vagina. Even her secretions tasted like some exotic fruit. She surprised me by moaning and roughly pulling on her breasts. I knew she was aroused but jumped when she gasps and yelled, "Damn, holy shit, fuck, that's killing me." Her legs were trembling, and her perspiration glistened.

I reached up, covered her hands to massage her breasts and pull her nipples. Her moans and irregular breathing indicated one was ravaging her body. After arching her back and slamming her fists to the bed a few times, calm slowly returned. I was so excited watching her that I completely missed the massive spurts of my semen that was now overflowing the reservoir. I think that was the most volume my testicles had ever produced in one load.

Natalie climbed down from the table and helped me remove the sleeve and reservoir. She carefully took it out of the room and several minutes later, returned fully dressed. She was in great spirits and said I'd donated the equivalent of two vials. She thanked me and we shook hands before she turned and left the room.

I returned to the receptionist and made another appointment. Natalie was available only two days a week and was booked for the next four weeks. The receptionist recommended Maria or Stacy. I selected Maria because her availability matched mine. (I later learned that 15 women worked as donor assistants, all of them college students.) I may write about them later.

As I walked across the parking lot, Natalie drove by in that convertible and waved. Damn, what a woman! That will always be the Valentine's Day I remember.