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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don’t type things myself."  I think it’s  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Donor (MM)
Anon Author - 1991

*

Tom was 19, a second year student at Leland Stanford Jr.
University, or Stanford.  He had accepted the good-natured
kidding from his high school buddies who had gone on to Cal about
the "Junior University" appellation, but explained that Leland
Stanford Jr. was the son of a nineteenth century railroad baron
who died at an early age.

Ironic, Tom thought, that now he was trying to create life at a
University who had been named for a person who had died young! 
Tom 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/week.  Tom had called, and had gone through the long
screening process.  At the clinic he was treated well.  Although
they seemed very interested in his background, the screening
process seemed very clinical, and almost unrelated to the
ultimate goal of making babies!  They tossed out terms -- sperm
count, motility rates, viability -- almost like exam questions. 
Tom has finally told that he had passed!  

Tom 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.  Tom had been a very gifted student,
but had never really given sex serious thought.  Of course, when
the opportunity arose, he got himself off, but he had never given
thought to having sex with someone else.  The screening rep
explained that guys who had girlfriends sometimes had to
disappoint their girlfriends a couple of days before their
donation days, and this sometimes created problems.  

Tom knew that lesbian women used the center.  He would have
preferred to know the women who used his sperm, and their
children, but understood that this was not possible.  The
donation center kept donors and recipients apart, even scheduling
appointments for the two groups on different days.  

Tom gave the idea of having offspring some thought.  He liked the
idea, but decided that he was helping someone who wanted to have
children out; and reasoned that someday he could have children
himself.  

Tom always looked forward to his appointments 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, Tom almost bounded to the
clinic after class.  He walked past the receptionist, who noted
his arrival in her appointment book, and asked Tom if he needed
any "visuals."  Tom said no.  

A young black technician appeared, and told Tom to follow him. 
Tom obeyed.  The clinician was black, and Tom noticed the
contrast with his white lab coat.  The technician took Tom down a
long hall, to a fairly large room.  The room had been disguised,
and did not look clinical.  There was a bed with a somewhat
"homey" faded cover.  A modern painting adorned the wall, along
with a clock of 1960's vintage.  The clock seemed out of place to
Tom; but he reasoned 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,
Tom was hard.  Tom 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.  

Tom looked at the lab technician.  The young black man seemed to
represent the only humanness in the clinic.  Although Tom was 19,
and very self-assured, he desired the touch of someone else.  

The technician said, "I guess you'll be OK?"  Tom picked up on
this response.  The question seemed almost inviting.  Tom sat on
the bed, and said, "Hey -- it'll just take seconds -- please
stay."  Tom realized that the technician might respond
differently than he had hoped!  Tom also didn't know what he
wanted.  He knew he was at the clinic for a very singular
purpose, but the 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 Tom that he'd
never watched before.  Tom realized that the young black
technician had given him permission to proceed.

Tom pulled off his pants in an instant.  His 19 year old cock was
raised to full attention now.  Although he had not developed his
full adult stature, his sexual organ, sexuality, and potency were
at their peak.  

Tom settled down on the bed.  The young black technician moved
closer, and broke the seal on the plastic collection container. 
"My name's Mike," he said, breaking his anonymity.  Tom 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.  

Mike looked down at Tom, nervous, but surprisingly excited. 
Almost reflexively, he put some saliva on his hand, and placed
his hand on Tom's cock.  He felt Tom tense, but Tom did not draw
away.  Tom opened his eyes, and looked up at Mike from his prone
position on the bed.  Tom had only kissed girls before, but
Mike's lips suddenly looked more inviting than the lips of any
woman he had kissed before.  A quick mental check confirmed to
Tom that his sexual experience would be safe.  

Mike started rubbing Tom's cock.  Suddenly Mike 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 Tom, who was only half-undressed. 
Mike sensed that this very self-assured, intelligent young man
needed physical contact and assurance.  His lips met Tom's.  

Tom felt the primeval urgings and cravings of a thousand
generations, as his back arched rhythmically.  He felt Mike's
tongue, and allowed it to enter his mouth.  He responded with his
own tongue.  Suddenly, Tom felt his body nearing orgasm.  He
pulled his mouth away from Mike's, and said "I'm coming."  Mike
removed his hand from Tom's cock, and picked up the sterile
container.  Placing it under Tom's cock, he was amazed at the
amount of semen collected -- perhaps 6-7cc, he mentally
estimated.  

Mike felt Tom's body relax.  This whole brief sexual sequence had
made Mike feel a part of the process he had previously felt apart
from.  

Both young men regained their composure.  Tom put on his pants,
and sat up on the bed.  He estimated that the entire process had
taken less than two 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," Mike said.  He imagined the
cryogenic process holding Tom's gift of life in suspended
animation.  And, somehow, he felt at part of this potential new
life.  

As Tom 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.  