Adams’ Apples

 

4 Testing, Testing

“SAM, JUST GO TO THE CLINIC, jack off in a cup, and let them give you something to increase your virility. There has to be some reason you’re not getting me pregnant. Now would you make the call?” Reba demanded.

The reason might be because she’s a spoiled, entitled, bitching shrew, Sam reasoned to himself. Ever since they (read ‘she’) decided to have children, Reba had been demanding and rushed. It wasn’t bad at first. Having a wife who wanted a baby was fun. She never turned down sex. But as time went by and she still wasn’t pregnant, it had become more of a chore than an exciting fuck. Half the time when she demanded that he enter her, she wasn’t even damp. He was sure that couldn’t be good for conception. He’d done his best to romance her and get her turned on but she was so impatient that all she wanted was to have him to dump a load in her as quickly as possible.

Reba had always had anything she wanted. Daddy had provided cars, jewelry, and even vetted young men. When she’d chosen Sam Watkins to be her husband, there was never a question that she could have him. Sam was a well-paid part owner of a startup software company that had gone public and had then been acquired by a major player. Sam was still at the company as some kind of fellow or something. The important thing was that he continued Daddy’s tradition of giving her anything she wanted. And she wanted a baby.

Things hadn’t been bad until Jocelyn, her best friend and tennis partner, had gotten pregnant. Since then, her society friends had all begun having children. All except her. She’d hesitated a while, afraid of what it would do to her figure. But it soon became apparent that she was losing status with the movers and shakers. She needed a brat.

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Finally, Sam consented to go to the fertility clinic. He was pretty sure the problem lay elsewhere. Even with the frequency that Reba demanded he perform, he was producing copious amounts of semen. And he was glad for the frequency he knew would end once she caught. While he was always ready for sex and shot a lot of come, it was almost impossible for him to masturbate. Of course, Reba wouldn’t consider the idea that she was infertile. It was all on him.

Reba hadn’t accompanied him to the clinic. She just shrilly demanded that he get it fixed. So, Sam went alone and was given the obligatory cup and stack of pornographic magazines and movies. None of it did a thing for him. He’d barely gotten hard and ended up napping in the room.

Sam awoke to a delightful sensation. A tall slender blonde was gently stroking and licking him. This had to be a dream, but the sensations brought him fully awake.

“What are you doing? Who are you?” he croaked. There was no denying, however, that he’d become fully erect.

“I’m Sheila. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. You’ll just get good and hard and soon you’ll be filling that old cup with all your good syrup,” she said.

“But why? I never heard of this being part of the clinic,” Sam protested. Still she was pretty attractive and had pushed her T-shirt up over her unfettered boobs. He tentatively reached out to handle one of the full soft globes and moaned.

“That’s it, baby. Feel me up and get it ready to go. You make it so good.” She kept fellating him and he could see the cup lying on his stomach as he felt the urge mounting in his balls.

“I’m going… It’s… Now!” The blonde smoothly replaced her mouth with the cup as she kept stroking. Good strong pulses raced from his cock and spattered in the cup as he moaned under her ministration.

“What a good boy,” she said as she stroked the last drops into the cup. For a moment Sam thought he must be a dog. A very good boy. She capped the cup and handed it to him then saw another drop ooze from his prick. “Mmmine.” She darted her head down and sucked the last drop out. “I wish all my guys had come like you do. It makes my kitty weep. So much! So intense!”

“I don’t get it. I mean thank you. But why?” Sam asked as he pulled up his trousers.

“Oh, the clinic’s been having a lot of this trouble lately. Guys are coming in by the score and most of them are having trouble getting it up while they masturbate. The clinic finally decided to hire a few professionals to help out those who were too tense to get off.” She smiled at him.

“You mean you’re a…?”

“I’m a sex worker. Clean and tested as were you. Frankly, this work is a lot easier than trying to attract johns. The pay is good and your insurance covers it. Ya gotta love good old single payer health insurance. They cover everything!”

“That’s incredible. And so are you.” He took another look at her bare breasts and sighed.

“Sure. Wanna kiss a titty goodbye? I doubt we’ll meet again.” Sheila looked after him as he left the room. There was something about that one. Maybe she could make him a regular.

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It took two weeks for the results to come back. Sam was sterile.

“I knew it was your limp dick that was to blame,” Reba screamed. “Well, I want to get pregnant. Either you get that tool fixed or I start hunting a better one.”

Sam shook his head. He remembered vaguely why he married the society girl. Perfect looks. Lots of money. And pressure from her daddy. They had a big house in a California community known for housing the high tech elite. Her father had given it to them as a wedding gift. But Sam wasn’t stupid. He’d kept separate accounts and made sure he was keeping as much money for himself as he gave his wife. He’d seen too many friends nearly bankrupted by the gold diggers of the tech industry.

If it came to splitting things up, which depressed him to think about, he was pretty sure his major assets were safe. Of course, the house would be hers and a sizable bank account. But he wouldn’t be destitute.

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Sam’s follow-up meeting with the doctor was not encouraging.

“We have a few treatments available, Sam, but they are mostly designed to increase sperm production. You seem to be producing plenty, but they’re all dead. I don’t know what to say about it. I’d suggest in vitro fertilization from the sperm bank. I don’t think we can give you living sperm,” the doctor said.

“That sucks. I’m going to lose my wife. She’s already said she’s going to look elsewhere.”

“Well, good luck to her. We’re seeing an unprecedented number of men with non-motile sperm. Seems like an epidemic. Don’t know why they’ve all decided to come in at once. We’re scheduling appointments out three or four weeks now.”

“Okay. I guess that’s it then.”

“We could try again.”

“What?”

“It’s always possible the first test was a fluke. Why don’t you take a cup and give us another sample? We’ll test it to see if anything has changed.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Sam took the cup and went to the designated room. He was surprised to see the blonde already sitting in a chair sleeping. “Oh. Excuse me.” She started awake.

“Oh, hey there. I was just taking a break. You in for another round?”

“Yeah. Doc ordered a second test.”

“Lucky me.”

“Huh?”

“I just happened to pick the room Doc sent you to for my little siesta. No sense wasting the opportunity. Come over here and lie down. Let me see what I can coax out of those big old balls of yours.” She pulled off her top and waggled her tits at him. He started swelling immediately and stripped off his jeans to hop onto the bed.

It wasn’t long before Sam was enjoying the attentions of the professional. And to his surprise, it wasn’t long after that when he sprayed the contents of his balls into the cup.

“I’m getting better,” she said. “It used to take nearly fifteen minutes from start to finish. You’ve been in the room exactly eight minutes and we got a full load. Take it to the desk as usual and maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

“Um… Maybe I could get your phone number?” Sam suggested. Sheila smiled and gave him a big kiss before she gave him her phone number.

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Reba hadn’t waited for the second results. She was determined to have a baby, and prospective fathers were easy to seduce. Sam resigned himself to the loss of his marriage and moved out.

 
 

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