SPERM WARS
The doctor said it was most likely me, that my sperm count was so low that I couldn't get her pregnant. Emily was against adopting, because she wanted to go through the natural process herself. She didn't want a sperm donor either, because she thought it sounded like 1984, the novel not the year.
She read that in Nature many males deposit their sperm in a female and the strongest semen prevails. Emily came up with idea of having three males compete to impregnate her. She figured the strongest would win. The sperm of the healthiest, most fit, desirable male would succeed and get her pregnant. At least that was the theory.
She wanted a child so badly I couldn't say no to her. She seemed to be tangled in a web of grief. The first thing we did after it became clear I couldn't get her pregnant was shop for prospective candidates, males who would be attractive contenders for the chance to impregnate my wife. We studied possible options by looking at dozens of photographs and reading profiles of potential mates. Since I did not qualify, I was out of the running and acquiesced to better men as sperm providers. Did I dislike having other men fuck my wife to get her pregnant? Well, if I couldn't.... Well, maybe a little.
But other than lobby for a sperm donor, throw a hissy fit in the bedroom, tell her to obey or leave, be macho, whatever, but I had few options. I could demand she adopt, or insist we keep trying, like beating a dead horse, or I could refuse her wishes and storm out of the house and get a bachelor pad. None of those are me, and I dismissed them all.
Of course, I didn't choose doors two, three, or four. I decided to let her implement her plan. Of course, I had to come to terms with letting her fuck three guys to see whose sperm would triumph over the seeds of inferior prospects, but it was not the worst thing that could happen. She is the love of my life and I wanted it for her.
The mechanics were simple. She would fuck one, two, and three, wait for the wand to turn pink, and try again if it didn't work. So for three weeks we looked at photographs and read profiles of fifty-six men and narrowed it down to six. Then we contacted those prospects and explained the project, asking each if he would agree to be interviewed by Emily.
All agreed, of course. For the chance to fuck the lovely Emily, to possibly father her child, they would willingly fight off dragons or the villain from Predator. All were arrogant, masculine, broad shouldered, and quite, coincidentally, well endowed.
There was Anthony. Six foot six of virile manhood, who had been in the Navy SEALS and still wore his medals on occasion. There was Charles who was only six three, but graduated first in his class from Stanford and had a 3.8 GPA. Then there was Paul. He was just six foot tall with blond surfer hair and boasted an IQ of 149. He was twenty-eight, had written three books, and lectured on economics at universities and businesses.
Julian was a high school English teacher and was forty. He lived with his mother but he owned the house and was the talk of the single women on the faculty and a good many of the married ones. He was the college quarterback, now coaches tennis, and writes poetry.
Marcus was a track star at Cal and held the American record for the high jump. His father was an Olympic athlete and his mother a college soccer player. He stood six foot three and had a confident smile with a slight southern accent.
David was a lawyer who specialized in environmental law and who graduated from Harvard and wrote for the Law Review. He was thirty, volunteers at a legal aide facility and has never been married. His interests are mountain climbing, sailing, and fishing.
All agreed to be interviewed and each was allotted one hour. She started with David, went to Marcus, Paul, Charles, Anthony, and finished with Julian. I did not have a favorite, but I knew from early on she was leaning to Julian, Anthony, and Marcus.
Anthony looked like his sperm could lift weights and fight off harmful bacteria. The sentimental choice was Julian, perhaps more for the name, and the betting money seemed to be on Marcus.
Because the child would be my son or daughter, I hoped more for the intellectual, the sensitive, the caring person over the athlete. By the time she was ready to make a choice, I didn't really care all that much. It would be my child and I would love it whomever the biological father was.
I know some of you are reading this and saying how could anyone be so spineless to agree to such a plan? Well, the answer is easy. Because I love her and realize that having sex with someone else isn't the worst thing in the world she could do. She could hurt someone, steal money, or cheat others out of their rightful property. Her sadness was almost more than I could bear.
Thousands of people everyday have sex with people they are not married to freely and without guilt or recourse. Some believe that sex is not dirty and sinful to share or engage in with those you are not connected to by marriage. I happen to be one of those people, although it had never come up before.
When we set the date, we notified the three she would have sex with and told them they would fuck her for an hour then leave and the next one in line would take his place. After the three had sex with Emily, we would wait a week, test, then repeat if she wasn't pregnant.
All of them agreed I could watch if I wanted to, and we set up the guest room for the mating of my wife. First she started with Anthony and I sat down to watch him try to get her pregnant.
Anthony was extremely muscular, like a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, and he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He set her up on the mattress and began taking off her clothes. She was standing on the bed and he was so tall he could undress her without having to reach up.
He helped her out her pants, pulled her panties down her legs, then pulled her top over her head and tossed it to the side. When Emily was nude, he took off his clothes and climbed onto the bed beside her. She stretched out on her back and spread her legs.
Anthony crawled between her thighs and positioned his erection at her pussy and pushed it into her. He was probably the biggest I had ever seen other than in porn. She pulled up her knees and spread them even further. He began moving in and out of her slowly, picking up the pace gradually. Soon he was thrusting in and out of my wife as fast as a piston. Emily matched his speed with the movement of her hips, slapping against his muscular body repeatedly, the sounds of sex echoing throughout the small room.
It did not take long for her to come and she stiffened under his body. He pushed his cock into her and held it, pushing against her pubic mound. He came and emptied into her. Emily sighed and he rolled off of her and sat up. They had only been fucking for less than fifteen minutes and he got dressed, smiled at me, said goodbye to her and left.
