The Donor Party

I didn't know much about what the night would entail, just that I would be the centerpiece at the party, I would have to be fully erected the entire party, and anyone who wanted to, could...in essence, have sex with me--but only for the purpose of getting pregnant.

People would probably wonder why I would agree to something so barbaric, but when someone offers you five-hundred thousand dollars just to have your dick used as a sex toy for one night...you don't care about ethics. At least, I didn't.

I have a seven-inch cock when erect, nothing extreme, but the host reassured me that no one was expecting a huge cock, just the promise of being naturally inseminated. Everyone at the party is wearing a mask, but beyond them, there are a dozen other things to focus on: like the crystal chandelier above my head, or the woman standing on the makeshift stage by her grand piano.

It's her house, really more of a palace. She's the one who solicited me in the first place. I don't know anything about her besides the fact that she's blonde, probably in her fifties, and obviously loaded.

For a month now, I've taken pills that increase semen production all in preparation for this day, per the host's repeated instruction. My libido is through the roof, and having been practicing semen retention, I know I'll be ejaculating all night at this rate.

There are thirty women in total, all ranging from twenty-five to forty-five years old, all wanting to be impregnated. Every woman that I see walking past me is wearing some form of scanty lingerie, one guest is just walking around completely topless with just a pair of lacy, purple panties on. Her enormous breasts are viscerally swollen and they sway like two fat pendulums.

I'm not too sure about how the night is supposed to go, but it seems like the host has declared me untouchable for now; the women seem to just be circling me, trying to size me up. As the discomfort for me only grows, I keep having to remind myself about the money that lies ahead. Still, I can't help but to feel like a piece of meat, waiting to be descended on by vultures.

There's one woman who seems to be hellbent on being first, she hasn't strayed two feet from me since the party started.

Just as I'm taking my eyes off of the guests, the host stands up and gestures for someone to turn off the soft music that's playing. As soon as it's off, she claps her hands, drawing attention to herself in the black chemise she's chosen to wear.

"Good evening, everyone," she starts, smiling through her black raven mask. There's a soft, collective murmur in return, before she continues to speak.

"I thank you all for coming tonight...I just want to go over a few rules before I let you all have your way with our male specimen there."

I can't stop myself from throbbing involuntarily at her mention of me, and at her wording.

She continues with her rules: "Only one woman at a time, we want to give everyone a fair chance at getting pregnant. However, once he ejaculates inside of you, please get up and allow the next patron to take her turn."

"The line..." the host says as she stalks over to a red rope that I didn't notice before, "...starts here."

My heartbeat is really starting to become erratic, any minute I know that she's going to tell them they can start.

"Do not unstrap him, as per the rules, we want to keep this as transactional as possible. Of course, you're very likely to feel pleasure, but please do not take additional liberties. If you would like, you can permit him to touch your breasts at most, that is all."

"I'm not taking any questions, the rules here are clear. After you take your turn, you are free to stay and watch, however I recommend that you find a place to lay down at and lift your legs up to allow the semen its best chance at fertilization."

The host looks around, and the tension is palpable as everyone seems to be processing the same thing: she's about to give the green light.

"Well, I won't keep you all waiting any longer. Who's first?"

"I am!" A dozen voices call out, but it's the one who has been standing the closest that claims me by walking up.

"Alright!" The host calls order, "Everyone else. line up by the rope!"

I can hear my breathing stall around in my chest as the first woman starts to climb up on the fixture I'm laying on. The metal table creaks with the addition of her weight, but it doesn't so much as shake as she swings one leg over me.

As nervous as I'm becoming, I can feel the blood in my cock beginning to pulse. The woman above me is a brunette with olive skin, I can only see her dark eyes through her mask but I can tell that she's probably around forty. Her breathing is incredibly shaky, giving away the nerves she clearly has as well, as her fingers glide against my cock to get a feel for it. Her touch causes me to slightly jump, but she doesn't stop, in fact, she seems to grow more confident.

Her touch becomes more solid, wrapping around the base of my length while she releases a soft, mature-sounding moan. My length feels overstimulated just by her slow jerking, before she seems to remember that time isn't on her side.

I can see her sagging breasts through her pink lingerie. They're not saggy in a way that's extreme, but they droop a little lower than what I'm used to--yet another sign that she's not as young as I am.

Silently, with the eyes of thirty other women on us, the woman starts to pull her panties to the side and climbs atop me.

Her legs clutch my sides, anchoring herself to me, before she places her hands on my chest to balance herself. She's warm, and heavy, a solid, reminding weight of dominance, she smells floral--wearing the kind of perfume that gives away just how rich she must be. I watch as her mouth opens into an 'O' while she bottoms out on my length, sinking down onto me with a vivid squelch. It happens so quickly, I suck in a breath and groan at the same time, reeling over the feeling of something moist and tighter than expected; her warmth is spongy and wet enough that I can tell she's been simmering for hours, slowly building herself up to a prime state of arousal.

"Oooohhhh--" she groans, clearly satisfied at the penetration, before she starts to ride me with her face cast to the ceiling. Her mask stays in place, but I imagine she's salivating with pleasure. Her hips move slowly, sliding my cock in and out of her damp place. I'm breathing heavily, and groaning softly myself as she only seems to become wetter. I can feel her leaking down onto my balls as her nude-painted fingernails scrape my chest, and her moans have become more frequent and less inhibited.

She squeezes around me tightly then, and her eyes squeeze shut just as tightly as she seems to be climaxing. That expression on her lips is a quiver of sheer ecstasy, and that's enough to bring me to my own finish. I focus on those quivering lips, the shape of her breasts that I'm not used to sexualizing so readily, and it starts to rise up out of me before bellowing into her like a spewing faucet.

She moans wildly, "yes, yes! Oh, I feel it--I feel you filling me up, sweetie."

I grunt as my orgasm comes to an end, and she stays on top of me for a few seconds, breathing like she's just run a marathon, before she obediently gets up.

As I'm still collecting myself from that climax, she's finding a spot to lay on her back as instructed, and the next patron is stepping up.

She's skinnier than the last woman, not possessing the same sizable breasts, but she also looks a little younger than the other woman. Her eyes are softened as she stares at my slickened cock; the juices from the last woman haven't even dried up when she gets on top of me next. Her cunt is tighter, her mask is an iridescent blend of greens and blues imitating a peacock, and she slides down onto me quickly.

She seems a little more desperate, either to climax or to have my seed, or both. I grunt as she bottoms out on my length before she starts to bounce, cupping her small breasts as she rides me. Her moans are drawling and hot, I have to admit. She's soaking wet and gushing with every downwards motion of her hips, and I'm just the lucky bastard who gets to feel her imminent orgasm. Her cries are shrill as she flips her hair back, and just like the last time, it's the feeling of her convulsing little cunt that pushes me over the edge. The second orgasm is always the best to me, and it churns out of me like liquid butter while the patron rides me through it.

"Thank you, thank you, thaaaank you," she cries out while her body trembles on top of me. I don't say anything in return, but she drags my hands to her breasts to squeeze them while she continues to squirt on me. I feel her nipples against my open palms, and even though her breasts aren't the biggest, they're plush enough to grab while we both finish up.

"You done?" She asks, smiling, breathless, pleased, and at my nod, she gets up off of me, going to lay down somewhere.

The next woman in line looks the youngest so far, closer to my age. In a way, I'm surprised that she's had to resort to this way of getting pregnant when she's so young, but I know that there are plenty of reasons why someone would need to get pregnant quickly. In my mind, she's married to a wealthy, older man who badly wants children though his sperm hasn't worked so far.

She surprises me by beginning slowly, she's not in any rush despite the line behind her. Her mask is a little more edgy than the others, it's completely black with jagged, Renaissance-looking edges, she's even smoked out her blue eyes with black eyeshadow. She's long-legged with curves to her waist, like a model, and her skin is creamy in complexion.

She's the tightest so far, and the most agile. Her moans are sensitive purrs as her hands slap against my chest resoundingly while she bounces just her lower half on my length.

I'm going to come quicker with her, and this she makes sure of by bouncing particularly hard once, impaling herself on my cock, before rocking back and forth while I'm still inside of her.

"Fucking hell," she slurs out a moan that sounds deliciously slutty, and I answer her with a grunt. Her return to her steady bouncing has started to create a slapping sound as her ass ricochets off my pelvis while her wetness literally milks me. I hear myself groaning from a distance, but her stopping is out of the question.

Her breasts, covered by a sheer black bra, give me a glorious show. Her areolae are small dime-shaped treasures, and the shape of her breasts is comparatively rounder than the others in the room. I find myself erupting slowly with each moist bounce onto my cock that she performs, and she thanks me by hurtling down onto my cock dizzyingly fast until she climaxes too.

"Oh, that's good...that's so good," she moans, exposing her throat as she throws her head back to the ceiling, but then she seems to decide differently and looks me right in the eye, forcing a whimper from me--a noise I didn't consent to making.

Her stare...her stare is dominating as her hips roll forward then back, pushing herself onto my cock, then retreating while leaving a heavy coat of her slime. Her detailed mask really makes her look like a vixen with her looking at me so intently, snaking her tongue over her red-painted lips.

I can't close my eyes, can't look away, as the last of my semen makes a home out of her cunt. She moans richly one last time, and I lose sight of her blue eyes as they roll back in her head, before she comes back to the moment.

She dismounts me deftly, like she didn't just come on me, but before she leaves--she shocks me and the rest of the onlookers by pressing her lips against my cheek, taunting me with the texture of her mouth.

"Thank you, cutie," she says, smirking dangerously, before she walks away to lay somewhere nearby.

By then, I feel a little drained. The releases I've had so far have brought me into a state of submission, but they've also caused my cock to be highly sensitive to touch. So, when the next woman steps up wearing a red velvet mask and a set of red lingerie to match, I feel myself trembling before she even reaches for me.

Unlike the last girl, she's not wearing any eye makeup which gives her wide, brown eyes a bare innocence underneath her mask. She's curvy, with a little extra weight in her midsection, but she carries it well. I can tell she's older than the last woman, but not by much, I settle on thirty as an estimate, and her voice lends to that age when she speaks to me.

"Hi, honey," she croons softly, the way a wife would to a husband. I stare up at her blearily as she sits herself between my legs, before she climbs on top of me. Her scent is the most overwhelming so far--it's a mixture of arousal and freshly spun sugar that gets deep inside of my nostrils.

"I'll be gentle," she says while her thighs do as the others did, and clench around my sides.

"I really need this," she says, "but, I'm sure your cock needs something a little more tender, so I'll ride you slowly as long as you give me what I want. Does that sound good, honey?"

I nod, and her naturally pink lips lift into a smile that's soft and considerate. She perches herself above my cock, before she slowly sits down on it. I can't help the sweat that breaks out on my skin, even more so as her sticky pussy invites me in deeper. I know it won't be so easy for me to come this time, but I can say that this woman's method of taking it slow is effective. I could never get used to the feeling of a different cunt each time, but I think she's wetter than the rest--it's seeping onto the table even.

The allure of her blonde hair is helped by her flushed skin, and again, those kind eyes that make me feel like there isn't a roomful of other wealthy women waiting to fuck me. I still hiss through my teeth every time that her cunt swallows me, but the slow pace is allowing me to process the hungry sensation of her riding.

"Mmm," she moans, "You know, we all really appreciate you doing this for us. You're helping us all so much..." her voice breaks off and pleasure causes her to go completely silent. Her riding stalls too, but then she overcomes the pleasure and seems to start riding me again in a less inhibited way. It's still slow, but her hole has become a soaking wet gusset that makes every bounce feel lackadaisical and cruel.

"Is this good for you?" She asks vulnerably in a horny tone, "Do you like the way I feel?"

I nod, and she moans shakily, riding me even slower as her legs appear to be quivering. It's taking a little longer for my climax to build since I've already given over a lot of sperm, but her slow speed is refreshingly erotic. Her hands drawl around my chest while she rides me, they're warm and caressing, thumbing over my nipples before stroking down the length of my abdomen. I can only imagine what she could do to a cock with her hands, because her touch on my skin is hot to a fault.

"Close, honey?" She asks, and I can confirm that it's starting to ebb out of me again--that fleeting feeling of ecstasy is closing in, and I don't want it to leave.

I drop my head back onto the table, and those hips of hers work against me until I feel it. It truly is painful this time, like having someone physically pull my seed out of my shaft, but her slow approach has softened it as much as possible. She sighs with relief as my cum sprays her insides, her eyelids flutter like she can't believe she's being filled up by a foreign man's semen--I love that starstruck look. Flustered, I groan louder than I have before as my cock seems to tremble for a while after she's done, granted she stayed on top of me after I came for a while. I can see my semen has slickened her inner thighs too, and she gives my chest another rub before she leaves without a backwards look.

I know that there are more women, that to survive the night and claim the half a million dollars, I have to come in them all--but I feel so spent that I have to close my eyes, just for a minute.

Then, mercy comes in the form of an announcement from the host:

"Alright everyone, let's give our wonderful sperm donor an hour break while we each have a glass of Chateau Lafite. Donor, thank you for your superb sperm contributions so far."

The next woman who had been approaching heads back to the line, and I close my eyes again.

Knowing that there's more, that the night still isn't over yet, I can only lay there with a temporary, yet lingering satiation.