Lucy Hales Unusual Sperm Donor

Author's Note:

This is a standalone story about a celebrity that wants a baby, but not necessarily a relationship. It's a dual purpose request - both for the sake of her ticking biological clock, but also as a bit of a career move.

Prologue

Jack Benson is your average, 30 year old single man. Six feet tall, 200 pounds. Although overdue for a cut and shave, he keeps his dark brown hair short and his beard trimmed. He dabbled in casual sports back in high school - JV golf and varsity bowling.

These days, Jack spends his nights in front of his computer. He can usually be found either gaming, or browsing the internet - often spiraling down that dark rabbit hole that begins on Reddit and ends in an incognito browser and a pile of sticky tissues.

On this particular night, he already has his shorts around his ankles, one hand on his mouse and the other on his cock as he scrolls through his

'After Dark'

feed. As he scrolls through various naughty posts, he sees one that's catches his eye. It's an posted in a 'personals' type of sub, the likes of which he has never seen before. It also has 10,000 likes and 3,000 comments.

Personals

posted by

u/[FakeUsername]

34 [F4M] L.A. - Actress Seeking Sperm Donor

Hello, Dirty Friends!

It feels strange to even be writing this, but I assure you I am not making this post with haste. This has been long contemplated and well thought out and it is 100% a legitimate request. Although I plan to remain anonymous for this post, I will verify my identity in PMs.

I am an actress currently living in L.A. As I'm sure you can guess, dating in Hollywood can be difficult and although I would like to settle down at some point, that just hasn't been in the cards for me thus far.

What I do know is this:

I want to be a mother.

I have weighed my options and given it careful consideration, and I have come to the decision that a sperm donor is the route for me.

But why am I posting about it here? That is valid question, and here is my answer:

Throughout my research, I have found way too many instances of corruption and deception in donor clinics and, frankly, they terrify me.

So here I am, taking matters into my own hands.

After our initial communications, verifying identities, and getting comfortable with one another, we will meet in a hotel of my choosing during the peak of my ovulation cycle. The act itself will be rather formal. No kissing, no cuddling, and foreplay will be restricted to that of necessity - to get us both 'up to the task.'

It is also of the upmost important for me to note that despite the unconventional format of this impregnation, it is still

very much so

a sperm donation. The prospect of sleeping with and impregnating a celebrity may be intriguing on the surface, but please don't be hasty to respond without careful consideration. There will be no visitation, no relationship between you and I, nor you and the child. The father will remain anonymous in the eyes of the public.

If you have read this far and still feel inclined to pursue this opportunity, please email the attached application to

[Email]

. In addition to the application, your email must include the following attachments: A current photo, a copy of your drivers license, medical records, and an STD test dated within the past three months.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post, and I look forward to connecting soon.

XO

Application

Verification Photo

Jack's jaw is practically on the floor. There is no way. Absolutely

no way

that this is a real celebrity and a real offer. But of course, his curiosity gets the best of him, and he clicks on the attached photo.

The photo is very clearly that of a woman. It's cropped below the neck and above the waist - all that is visible is this woman's midsection. She's wearing a white seamless ribbed knit tank top and she's very visibly not wearing a bra. Her left breast sits plumply in view, her nipple poking through the fabric of her top. Her right breast is covered by a piece of paper with her Reddit username scrawled across it in purple ink.

You can't see any more than her wrist and thumb, but she has dainty hands with the short, stunted thumb that you seems to be quite standard on women not much taller than 5 foot.

Aside from the faint shadow of her areola darkening her white tank, Jack fixates on the simple gold ring wrapped around her thumb. He is almost certain he has seen that thumb ring before, meaning that whomever she is, he must follow her on instagram.

He sits up a little taller in his chair, his hard cock throbbing against the faux leather seat beneath him as his sweaty ass cheeks stick to the chair. He opens up the application as his heart races in his chest.

Who the fuck is it? It's on the tip of my God damned tongue.

Name:

Jack Benson

Age:

30

Occupation:

WFH IT Consultant

Education:

Bachelor's Degree and various Certs

Height:

6'0"

Weight:

203

Hair Color:

Dark Brown

Eye Color:

Greenish

Ethnicity:

Italian/German

Smoke? Y/

N

Drinking Habits:

A few beers once or twice a week

Medical History of Note:

Grandpa on my dad's side died of a heart attack and an uncle on my mom's side has high blood pressure. Generally, we're a healthy family.

He's a bit hesitant to provide this person with enough information to steal his identity, but the blood has long since left his brain and set up residence in his erect cock and men do stupid things and take stupid chances when they're horny. He gathers up all of the relevant info along with a promise to get an STD test as quickly as possible, and sends off the email.

It's 1AM in Colorado and just after Midnight in L.A. so he doesn't think much of it as he swaps from Reddit to Pornhub to conduct some routine pipe cleaning. Besides, it's not like he

actually

expects a response. He wouldn't necessarily consider himself an unattractive man, but he's not the type of guy to draw attention out in public. If this really is a celebrity, she will definitely have better options at her disposal than

him

.

It's nearly an hour later, Jack has tonight's video of choice loaded up on his monitor, and he's scrolling through instagram in search of that thumb ring when his email dings.

Glancing up, he sees the throwaway email address in the popup at the corner of his screen.

This can't be...

He drops his phone on the desk and pulls open his email with a shaky, nervous hand. He clicks on the email. It's a quick, simple response with a photo attachment.

Hi, Jack! I got your application and just wanted to check in to reassure you that I'm not a scammer. Let's talk soon! :)

XO LH

LH?

He hovers his mouse over the photo and reads the root address - it's a real image. He clicks it.

His jaw falls to the floor as he finds himself staring at a picture of Lucy Hale.

She's wearing an oversized t-shirt and she's leaning against the headboard of a bed. Her face is oily and raw, like she just completed her bed time routine. She's holding her left hand up in a

peace sign

and her thick lips are puckered into a kissing face. She is holding up another sign in her right hand that reads:

Hi, Jack!

in the same purple ink.

He stares unblinking at the photo for a good few minutes in disbelief that it's really her. It's

Lucy Hale

, an

actual

celeb responded to his application.

And then it

really

sets in - the reason for his email in the first place. He was too caught up in the fact that a real celeb - and one as hot as Lucy Hale at that - was even emailing him in the first place. He completely forgot about the implication.

"Holy Shit,"

he mutters under his breath. "Does she want to have my baby?"

Part 1:

The Encounter

Chapter 1

It has been three weeks since initial contact, and it's beginning to really feel real for Lucy. Up until this point, she and Jack have only communicated through phone calls and FaceTime. Today will be their first time meeting in person.

Although the two of them have become quite friendly over the past few weeks, Lucy has always made it a point that their relationship is to be completely transactional - this isn't going to become an erotic rom-com that ends in true love.

All that being said, she can't help but to be a bit excited. First times are always a thrilling, infatuating experience that really gets the endorphins pumping.

Lucy is just finishing up a morning hike through Studio City when she sends Jack the location of one of her favorite little coffee shops. She's wearing black leggings and a sleeveless grey workout tank with sweat stains under her breasts. It's definitely not the most appealing of looks for a "first date," but then again, the goals has never been to seduce Jack. The last thing she wants is for him to fall in love with her.

Hair tied back and face flushed with a heat rash, she enters the café and takes a seat in the corner near the window.

She's alone for about 10 minutes, scrolling through instagram on her phone when a text banner pops up on the top of her phone, accompanied by a vibration.

It reads:

Here.

Lucy looks up just as Jack enters the coffee shop, turning straight in her direction with a nervous smile on his face.

"Hi, Lucy!"

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person," she replies, sticking out her hand as he awkwardly lifts his arms for a hug.

"Oh - I... I'm sweaty, I don't think you want..."

"Ah, it's fine," he says, committing to the hug as he pulls her against him. Her petite frame collapses in his bearish grip, her breasts pressing into his abdomen and her head burrowing into his chest.

He smells like pine needles and fresh linen and a shiver runs down her spine as they embrace. She feels warm and comfortable in his arms which is both comforting

and

alarming. She has a rule, and sex can do crazy things to ones mind.

"So?" He asks, taking a seat in the chair across from hers. "What's the verdict?"

"I haven't looked yet," she explains, reaching for her purse.

Jack gives her a skeptical raising of his eyebrows, refusing to believe she hadn't looked.

Her ovulation cycle is set to peak at any point over the next 36 hours. That is why Jack is in town. Some time over the next two days, he will fill her with his seed. Lucy peed on an ovulation stick before her hike and tucked the stick away in her purse without waiting on the results. She wanted them to experience that moment together, as odd as that may be.

"I didn't!" She insists. Lucy can feel the flirtatious undertone to her words and she bites her cheek in contempt as she digs out the stick.

She pulls out the stick and sets it on a napkin in the middle of the table as both she and Jack lean over it to read the results.

Double pink lines.

"Does that mean...?" Jack asks, trailing off as he stares down at the stick.

"Yep."

They stare wordlessly at the stick for a few moments, letting the gravity of those results weigh on them for a beat.

"So uh... What now?" Jack asks, finally breaking the silence.

"Now," Lucy begins, picking up the stick and holding it up to eye level. "we, uh... we

do it.

"

Chapter 2

An hour later, Lucy is standing in front of her mirror, towel wrapped around her midsection as she finishes her makeup. Her hair is pulled back in a wavy updo, with loose, curled strands freed at her temples, framing her face.

She licks her finger and leans over the sink, wiping away some errant eye liner as she blinks back at herself, just inches from the mirror.

Satisfied with the result, she drops from her toes on to bare feet as she grips the edge of the vanity and gives herself one more look-over in the mirror before turning on her heels and padding her way across the bathroom.

She pulls the fold of the towel from under her right arm, letting the white towel fall away, exposing her nude body as she tosses the towel in the hamper by the door.

Lucy steps into her bedroom in the nude, toes digging into the thick, grey and white carpet as she trots towards the bed. She's freshly plucked and shaven - the only hair below her eyebrows is a well manicured patch above her pussy. It's trapezoidal in shape, like an upside down triangle with the tip chopped off, an arrow pointing at her lips. She typically goes for a smooth, clean shaven look, but feels that this trimmed patch makes her a little less exposed.

She picks up her dress from the bed, flipping it over and undoing the zipper. It's a satin scoop neck piece from Miu Miu with thin shoulder straps. The dress is a light, muted shade of apricot with golden sequins and embroidered stones wrapping around the bustline. The skirt of the dress rests at mid/upper thigh level, making it look a bit like a nightgown, yet still quite formal.

Her fingers and toes are painted with a clear, slightly smokey polish and she slides her feet into a pair of white sandals with one thick strap over the forefoot.

Lucy has more or less abandoned bras these past few years, and she remains panty-less under her dress. The impending task at hand would make panties nothing more than a hinderance.

She picks up a matching purse, hanging the short-strapped bag over her left elbow as she unlocks her phone and opens the Uber app, calling a car. She then opens her messages and fires off a text.

'On my way.'

He replies almost immediately, as if eagerly awaiting her message.

'Hopping in the shower now. There's a key for you at the front desk under the name Laura Benson.'

That was part of the arrangement. In addition to the STD tests they both took yesterday morning, Jack was required to shower beforehand.

Chapter 3

The choice of hotel was strategic - it was only a short, four minute Uber ride from her Condo and she is climbing out of the car and entering the lobby less than 8 minutes after sending her

On my way

text.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am, how can I help you today?"

The lady working the desk is a curly haired blonde woman in her forties. She's taller than Lucy, but not

tall;

average height.

Lucy practically has to stand on her toes to peer over the computer on the other side of the elevated reception desk as she smiles back at the woman.

"I need to pick up a room key for Laura Benson."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Benson. Can you please confirm your husband's name and the last four digits of the phone number on file?"

"Jack Benson, 1624."

She feels like a kid at a candy store, the way she is forced to stand on her toes and grip the countertop.

"Thank you. Here is your key, you are in room 604. Please enjoy your stay, Mrs. Benson."

Lucy is able to escape the lobby and retreat into the elevator without notice. That was honestly the most nerve-wracking part - being recognized heading up to a hotel room only to return a few hours later, all in broad daylight. Of course, their assumptions would be correct, but that wouldn't make the situation any better.

Then again, maybe she

wants

to be seen. Pregnancies have done wonders for many women in Hollywood. A

'Who's the father?'

scandal could only make her more popular, right?

But of course, getting caught leaving the man's room wouldn't leave much to the imagination. No, it

is

better to go unrecognized.

As the elevator doors open on the 6th floor, Lucy carefully peeks her head out. She's looking at a side hall, an elevator landing area with vending machines and an ice machine. She steps out just before the elevator has a chance to scream at her for leaving the doors open for too long.

She shuffles forward to the hallway, reading the placard on the wall that tells her room 604 is to the right. She leans cautiously around the corner and peers down both sides of the hall.

Empty.

Lucy hurries down the hall towards her destination. 604 is the penultimate set of doors at the end of the hall and she quickly slaps her keycard against the reader. The door flashes green, beeps, and the lock clicks open.

The shower is still running when she enters, closing and locking the door behind her.

"I'm here!" She calls through the door, rapping her fist on it three times.

"Be out in a minute!" He calls back.

Lucy steps deeper into the room. It's your typical extended stay hotel with a small kitchenette along the bathroom wall, a sitting area with a mounted TV, and a diagonal doorway to a cramped but private bedroom.

Jack has kept the place spotless - that or he spent all morning cleaning after we left the coffee shop. If it were her, it would have been the latter.

There's a bottle of champagne on ice on the counter set out with two glasses. Lucy pours two glasses, one for each of them. The nerves really start to set in as the shower turns off and she drains her glass, refilling it just as the bathroom door clicks open.

She watches Jack enter the room. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is still damp and ruffled, as if he ran a towel over it and let it be. He looks like your average, every day 30 year old. He doesn't have 6-pack abs, nor tight muscle definition. He has a bit of a beer gut; a dad bod. His front side is covered from waist to neck in thick, dark hair and the steam from the bathroom still radiates off his singed pink skin.

"Sorry, I-" he begins, gesturing towards his state of dress as he takes in the sight of Lucy in her gown.

"No, don't be," she interrupts. "There's no point, right?"

"Right," he agrees, face flushing.

Lucy hands him a glass and they both sip in awkward silence until Jack finally speaks.

"I still can't believe we're

actually

doing this..."

"If you're having reservations-"

"

NO!

" Jack cuts in. Then more calmly, "No, not at all. It's admittedly a little weird, but exciting."

Unsure of how to proceed, Lucy cuts straight to the chase.

"So, I've never scheduled sex before and I'm not really sure how to initiate this without it being awkward, so... should we just..."

"Right," He agrees. "Yeah, lets just... uh... should we go to the bedroom, then?"

It's comforting for Lucy to know that Jack is just as awkwardly nervous as she is, and that gives her confidence.

"Lead the way."

As Jack walks around the kitchen island, she realizes that he's already hard - his erect cock tenting the towel as he makes a nervous waddle past her and into the bedroom.

Lucy sets her purse down on the counter and follows him in, shutting the door behind her.

Chapter 4

Heart racing, thumping against her chest so violently that it's

audible

, she stares at Jack. There's three feet of space between them and he's seated on the edge of the bed so that his eyes are level with hers.

There's no mistaking the erection now - his towel is tented upward, the flap of the towel lifted open, but not enough to expose him.

"What position should we do?" Jack asks.

He sounds as awkward, nervous, and uncertain as Lucy feels, which is oddly comforting.

"Why don't you lay on your back," Lucy suggests, eyes dropping from his face, to the erection protruding from his towel, to the bed behind him. "I will get on top?"

"Okay, yeah," he agrees quickly, nodding his head with approval like a puppy staring up at a handful of treats.

Why are men so crazy about women riding them?

"So... I'll just... drop my towel then..." Jack narrates as he slowly pushes to his feet, rising tall over top of her.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Lucy agrees, encouraging him to get on with it and stop stalling.