The Donor 7


By Katzmarek


Authors Note.
This is a work of fiction, erotic fiction. Therefore if that offends you then surf on ‘neighbour’.
My work can’t be used for gain, without my permission in writing. Assume my character ‘Joanne’ is real 
and she has a sack-full of lawyers with nothing better to do than make your lives a misery should I be 
ripped off. That said, please enjoy… 





Jonathon Wetherall strolled aimlessly up and down the concourse.  He’d tried sitting in the waiting area, 
watching the ‘flight arrivals’ screen flick over, but he was too tense.
‘Announcing the arrival of Cathay Pacific flight CT 101, Amsterdam via Taipei at gate 12, please ensure 
the area is kept clear for disembarking passengers…’ the address system announced.


After a short time, airport staff had clipped back the double doors in front of the tide of humanity pouring 
through it.


Jonathon stood a little way off scanning the faces for Joanne. He figured the 1st class passengers would be 
let off first. Eventually he spied her in a little group talking animatedly to each other. She didn’t appear to 
see him.


Jonathon moved a little closer to the group that halted, still talking.
“That’s right,” he heard Joanne say, “ call him tomorrow and find out his thoughts on this…no, go straight 
to the top, Frank… don’t fool about with Bloch, he compromised himself over that EDS contract, 
remember? Talk to Guy or Roquefort himself, get an ok so we can get things moving.”


He recognised the woman he knew as ‘Margaret.’ Her eyes settled on him and she tapped Joanne on the 
shoulder.
“Joanne, I think your chauffeur’s waiting,” she said grinning.


Joanne parted with the group, giving last minute advice, she slowly moved towards Jonathon. Eventually 
the group started to break up and shuffle towards the baggage collection. Joanne passed him saying,
“Follow me,” without pausing.


While Joanne waited for her bags she turned to Jonathon,
“Did you bring my car?” she asked. Jonathon nodded.
“Good! Can I have the keys please,” she demanded in a low voice.
“Thank you. Do you know where the bus stop is?”


“Joanne!” Jonathon pleaded, “can we talk?”
“I think you’ve said enough, Jonathon. Go back to your little teen squeeze and tell her she can have you. 
She might be a good nurse for you in your old age. After class, of course.”
“It’s not like that,” Jonathon told her, “I didn’t do anything. Well, not much anyway.”
“Not much?” she said raising her voice, “you’re such a fool! Not much what?”


“It was just a bit of fun… I was angry!”
“Fun! Was it?” Joanne said menacingly, “ a bit of slap and tickle, a quick grope?”
“Something like that.”
“And what? Her mother called her? The school bell rang? She suddenly opened her eyes and found you 
were a forty year old, balding loser with clammy hands? She called her daddy who beat the crap out of 
you? Did he cut off your balls? I would have.”
“Joanne, calm down. Let me explain, I was angry with you.”
“Listen, Jonathon,” she said dropping her voice again, “ you were angry? So was I, but I didn’t jump the 
waiter. No-one, I repeat no-one,” she told him, bringing her face inches from him. “No-one fucks around 
on me… ever. Have you got a good memory?”
“Um… I guess.”
“Good, because it will be all you have, if I ever hear of you so much as ask the time of anything with tits, 
understand?” Jonathon nodded.
“Or without them, in the case of your little blond.”
“She did have…” Jonathon started to say.
“Don’t!” Joanne interrupted, “say… another… word, Jonathon.”


They were heading out along the coast road towards Joanne’s suburb. Joanne insisted she drive, 
‘So my baby knows I haven’t forgotten her.’ 
Suddenly she burst out laughing.
“What’s the joke?” Jonathon asked.
“You! Oh haha… you’re a scream, you really are.”
“How so?” Jonathon asked.
“A quick grope, you said… a bit of fun… and then you tell me she has got tits after all. I’m supposed to 
feel better? ‘I didn’t think you’d mind if I fucked a little schoolgirl’,” she mimicked. “After all, it was only 
the once. Were you drunk?”
“Yes.”
“And her?”
“Very! That’s why I left without…”
“I thought so. It was a stupid move, even for you. If I thought you’d been sober you wouldn’t be catching 
the bus home, it would be an ambulance.”
“Look! I’m sorry, ok?”


On the way home, Jonathon tried to put his hand up Joanne’s skirt. She pushed it away.
“I thought you liked it,” Jonathon told her.
“Oh, I see. Like my little teen hunk?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not a teenager, Jonathon. And… and I don’t have to be satisfied with quick gropes in the car 
anymore, or do I?”
“No, you don’t,” he answered.
“A warm bed, clean sheets, long showers… cuddling and a cooked breakfast in bed in the morning… and 
making love till lunchtime. I have that to look forward to, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
“And no quickie over my desk, either, eh? With the staff looking on?”
“No.”
“I’m surprised you thought that would even turn me on, Jonathon.”
“I’m sorry, Joanne.”
“At least you could have closed the curtains,” she giggled.


“Do you want to go out for tea or should I whip something up for you here?” Jonathon asked as they got 
home.
“Well, you see I just had breakfast on the plane. I slept most of the last leg… and I’m still on European 
time. However you can whip something out for me,” she answered.
“Up.”
“Out and up,” she said moving towards him.


“That’s better,” Joanne said as they held each other, kissing, “did your teenager kiss as well?”
“Just about sucked my face off,” Jonathon replied.
“I see! Like this…” she said, fastening her lips to his.
“Well?”
“Something like that. More like this…” he said, returning the favour.
“Forget the shower… have it later… take me upstairs…”


Jonathon was still kissing her when they fell into the bedroom. Aroused, he began to tug at the buttons of 
her blouse.
“Wait! Down big boy.  Sit on the bed, I’ve got something to show you,” Joanne instructed. “I’ve been 
shopping, here are a couple of things for you.” Joanne tossed him two parcels from her suitcase.


The largest parcel he unwrapped first, to reveal a pair of Mossino printed jeans. Jonathon was 
flabbergasted.
“These must have cost a fortune,” he said.
“Yes they did. Do you like them? I can always give them to the Salvation Army shop.”
“No! No, they’re incredible.”
“Try them on… I want to see the fit… with the other thing I got you.”


Jonathon opened the other parcel.  In it was a pair of silk boxers.
“Ok,” Joanne said, “change into them… give us a show! Throw those old things in the wood burner. Better 
yet get them to walk there themselves. Oo! Ease them over it, dear, we wouldn’t want to damage it.”
Jonathon slipped his old briefs carefully over his erection.


“Is there enough room for you,” Joanne giggled as Jonathon pulled up his new shorts, “Y’know they should 
come with elastic in the front, or a little pocket it can slip into, shouldn’t it?”
“There’s plenty of room,” he announced, “see?”
“How does the silk feel?”
“Nice, smooth.”
“Come over here, give us a look,” Joanne commanded.


Joanne smoothed her hands over the fabric of Jonathon’s shorts, over his bottom cheeks and round to the 
front. She gave his cock a squeeze.
“Mmm, yes, I like that. Try on the jeans.”


The jeans fitted his scrawny frame to perfection. Joanne made him turn around and parade up and down as 
if at a fashion show.
“Jonathon, you have such a cute set of buns. You must always wear trousers that have a tight fit around 
your butt. It’s your best asset.”
“I just wear what’s comfortable…”
“What, those old things,” she said indicating his old faded jeans, “where did you get them? Let me guess, 
church sale? In 1952?”
“I wasn’t born then.”
“No, but I bet those old jeans were.”


Jonathon loved his new Mossinos. The print consisted of flower outlines, interspersed with vines that ran 
up and down the legs.
“Sit down,” Joanne commanded, “I’ve got something to show you. Something I bought for myself in 
Paris.”
She stood up and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.


Joanne carefully shed her blouse to reveal her bra. The light blue lace was practically sheer and did nothing 
to hide her full breasts and rigid nipples. The neckline fell to just above her teats displaying an acre of 
swelling flesh.
“Wow!” said Jonathon.
“Like it? Stay there! There’s more.”


Next, Joanne’s skirt came down to reveal a pair of sheer panties. The legs cut sharply down from her hips 
to her pussy. Jonathon saw that she had trimmed her bush down the sides.
“I had to trim it a little, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” Jonathon said, “ it looks beautiful.”
“Good,” she replied, relaxing a little, “ I wasn’t sure. Do you want to feel the silk?”
“Oh yes, very much,” Jonathon croaked.


Joanne stood in front of Jonathon as he stroked and kissed the fabric of her panties. He put his cheek 
against her crotch while smoothing his hands over her bottom. She sat down on his knee and said,
“You haven’t felt the bra yet.”
As Jonathon corrected the situation, Joanne bent down and kissed him fiercely.


“I was worried you know… uh… that I’d be too… finely wrapped for you,” she said as Jonathon ran his 
mouth over her bra. He worked a nipple out and began to suck on it. Joanne stroked the back of his head.
“I know so little about you… uh… what turns you on… uh… bite it, honey…uh… not too hard. Besides 
tits and cunt… uh… a bit harder… that’s it… what does get you going?”
“You do,” Jonathon said looking up at her, “your face… mostly… and your mind.”
“Oh bullshit,” she said, “and get those jeans off!”


They lay together on Joanne’s bed still in their underwear. Luxuriating in the feel of the silk on skin.  
Occasionally a hand would slip under the fabric, ‘to adjust the fit’. Indeed it seems Jonathon’s boxers 
needed a lot of adjusting, according to Joanne. Similarly Jonathon rearranged Joanne’s breasts in her bra 
every chance he could. All this took place between bouts of kissing and accompanied by lots of giggling 
and teasing.


“Hey!” Jonathon said, “you had these presents in your bag all the time.”
“So?”
“So you must have bought them after Switzerland, after our fight?”
“So?”
“So you were never going to call it off, were you?”
“That depended on you.”
“It did?”
“You are the worse liar I have ever come across, Jonathon. If you had tried to tell me one pork pie, Jonno, 
you’d be a goner.”
“She wasn’t a kid, Joanne, she was 16.”
“I think you’ve made my point, Jonathon. Hair and eye colour, how she was dressed, how she kissed, the 
size of her tits, whether she stroked your dick with an up and down motion or sideways, you’d tell me 
everything if I asked.”
“She didn’t stroke my dick.”
Joanne sighed,
“A little jealousy is maybe not such a bad thing, providing it’s not too well deserved. But I can’t stand 
deceit and lies. At least I can rely on you to make an absolute mess of it.”
“Thanks!” Jonathon grumbled.
“Don’t be grumpy. Your honesty is the sexiest thing about you, believe me! That and a few other things, of 
course,” she said giggling.
“Such as?”
“Oh your face and your mind, Jonathon. Your face and your mind,” she said still giggling, “let me take this 
off now, do you mind? It’s half off anyway.”
Jonathon helped her disentangle her bra.


“So what happens… ouch, you’re squashing my dick! What happens if you get pregnant?” Jonathon asked 
Joanne, lying on top of him.
“Move it between my legs… there! Well I suppose we have a baby.” She kissed him.
“What about me, then?”
“Depends, do you want to stick around for the 4 hourly feeds?”
“If I can share the other one,” Jonathon answered, kneading her breast.
“Pervert! Don’t know babe. You’re talking ‘C’ word aren’t you?”
“I guess.”
“Could you keep your hands off the nanny?”
“Ah! I know someone who’d nanny for us.”
“Let me guess, blond, 16.”
“As a matter of fact…”
“You want to be a gelding?”
“Ow! They’re strong thighs you have!”


Joanne flexed her thighs around Jonathon’s erection.
“Go easy,” Jonathon complained, “you’ll pull it off.”
“That time in the gym’s paid off, don’t you think?”
“Yes, yes… shit. Jojo, you’re roasting down there. I can feel you through your panties.”
“Jojo? Where’d that come from, sounds like a clown’s name?”
“Beatles song, ‘Get back,’ remember?”
“I’m not that old! Jonathon… your dick against my pussy… feels so good… through the silk… going to 
pop soon… fuck me later… put you hands on my bottom… squeeze me… oh…”
Joanne rubbed herself on Jonathon’s cock, faster and faster, gasping and moaning.
“I missed this… uh… oh… Mmm… nearly… oh…”


Joanne gave a series of shudders and moaned, grinding herself against Jonathon’s pubic bone.
“Sorry… I couldn’t wait,” Joanne puffed.
“It’s ok, you’re so sexy… when you come… I love to watch you…” Jonathon whispered to her.
“Oh Jonno… you pervert… take my panties off? Can’t manage.  I’ll have to wash them…”
“Not now!”
“No, not now… Mmm… you like my trim then?” she asked as he ran his fingers through her pubic hair.
Jonathon lowered his head between her legs as if to inspect it.


“Just right! I’m glad you’ve just done the sides. I like a bit on my woman.”
“Your woman? When did I sign the deed of transfer?” Joanne asked smiling.
“Permissive clause in the fine print,” Jonathon said before running his tongue through her hair.
“Trying winging that one… uh… gentle… in court, Buster!”
“You’re flooded! And you could toast marshmallows off it.”
“What, now you’re going to… uh babe… that’s nice… push marshmallows up me?”
Jonathon lifted his face up from Joanne’s pussy.
“Not marshmallows, Jojo,” he replied sliding up her body, “not marshmallows…”
“Don’t… uh… call me… oh… ‘Jojo’,” she breathed as Jonathon fitted his cock into her entrance.


They found a nice slow rhythm together, gentle and loving. After grinding slowly together for a while, 
they’d stop for more kissing and caressing.
“You impress me babe,” Joanne told him during one of their frequent pauses, “how do you keep going?”
 “Simple,” he said, kissing her, “I just think of those 4 hourly feeds… and my sperm just turns back.”
“Oh, haha. Then you won’t get to suck my other tit, will you?” 
Jonathon kissed her hard, pushing in his tongue, seeking hers.
“Just think,” she said as their faces parted, “ home for three months… horny as hell, all the time… 
bouncing junior around in my womb… with that big, talented cock… big round tummy to hold on to… big 
boobs to munch.  Close the curtains… fuck me on my desk… Mmm… Jonathon… would you like that… 
I’d let you, lover… strip off my panties… pound me… so hot…”


Jonathon began to move faster, in and out of her. He lifted himself on his arms, watched her excited face 
and her breasts wobbling on her chest. Her skin glistened with perspiration. Joanne was panting, throwing 
her head back; her hands grabbed his arse cheeks.
“Errr,” she growled from somewhere deep in her throat, “Ggg… ah… oh… Jjj… oh… ohh… ooOHHH… 
JONNO… OOOOHHHH… OOOOOHHHH… GOD IT’S… OOOOHHH… OOOOHHHH… fuck… 
Jesus Christ…”
Jonathon blasted, what seemed like gallons of juice into her willing pussy.
“Oh babe… that… was… ooosh,” Joanne gasped.


Later, they lay stroking each other.
“I forgot the towel, again,” Joanne said.
“Fuck the towel!” Jonathon replied.
“Fine, then you wash the sheets.”
“Get a maid.”
“She doesn’t do sheets.”
“Offer her another 10 bucks.”
“Why should I when I’ve got you? You’re not exactly over-employed.”
“Ok, then what’s the hourly rate?”
“You get to screw the boss, and drive her car. You can’t buy that.”
“Her car eh?” Jonathon pondered. Joanne playfully slapped him on the cheek.


“Bastard! I’ll buy you a fucking bicycle to ride if you’re not careful,” she said, in mock annoyance.
“A ‘Diamondback’ or a ‘RidgeRunner’?”
“A wheelchair and a neck brace. You on a mountain bike? Give me a break?”


“Jonathon?” Joanne asked.
“Mmm,” Jonathon responded while playing with her nipples.
“Leave them alone for a minute, will you? I need to have a serious talk.”
“Ok.”
“Have you considered… living arrangements?”
“Me moving in?”
“Yes, what do you think?”
“I’ve never done that before… always been by myself… I’m a bit of a slob.”
“I don’t know that? Your reputation is legendary. It would be new thing for me too. Maybe I’d learn not to 
be so fussy. And you could learn to pick up your underpants?”
“Could do,” Jonathon conceded, “then there’s the cat?”
“I’ll get a cat-flap! She does go outside, doesn’t she?”
“Oh yes. She hasn’t shit inside since she was a kitten.”
“Good. Cat fur is your job, ok?”
“Fair enough.”
“Occasionally I have clients over. You will wear a shirt, ok?”
“Sure.”
“And putting your finger in the Guacamole is a no-no.”
“I know how to play host, Joanne.”
“And put up with me… when I’m grumpy?”
“I’ll make you a Vermouth and lemon and bring your slippers.”
“A whisky please? Or a square gin, I am Dutch after all.”
“You’re on.”
“So… you’ll move in?”
“I’ll need to give notice for my apartment, first.”
“Go ahead. I’ll get the sports channels connected on Digital.”
“Please!”
“Shower?”
“Shower,” Jonathon agreed.
They rolled off and headed into the en suite, arm in arm.


More to come.




























