Donor -

5.

Janet trembled as she stood there in the bathroom, alone, standing before the sink, unable to take her eyes off of the partially filled cup of warm, white fluid. She had done it. Samantha had done it. She'd taken the pills... and made semen.

'You just glossed over a lot right there,' Samantha had said at their dinner.

It was true. In her selfish obsession, Janet hadn't really given much thought to what was

really

going to be involved. But once her roommate had reluctantly agreed, once Janet had gone on the internet and found someone shady enough to sell her T175-C without a prescription and brought it home, and prepared everything for today... then, it was hard

not

to think of it.

Samantha had been in here. She had taken these pills. These pills that made girls grow a cock. And then... that wasn't enough. Simply having a cock didn't get one from Point A to Point B. To get there, she'd had to

masturbate

. Masturbate until she'd orgasmed. Until her cock orgasmed and ejaculated. All of this semen. The bathroom reeked of it...

Samantha had been mortified and left immediately, and Janet had made no effort to stop her. Her roommate had been true to her word and done everything she'd had asked of her, which, if Janet was to be totally honest, absolutely was as fucked up as Samantha had said it would be. That she had asked her best friend to do this... and that she'd actually gone and done it... it was totally unbelievable that this was all really happening...

And now, everything was here, the answer to her big life problem. Janet gave the plastic cup a final long gaze, before taking up the turkey baster. As she'd said at dinner, Janet had read that she could use saline to make enough liquid to draw into the baster, but now she saw that wasn't even necessary -- the cup was more than full enough.

Squeezing the ball at the top, forming a vacuum, Janet stuck the tip inside the cup, relaxing her grip and drawing the thick liquid in. The baster ended up more than half full by the time the cup was emptied.

And now... Here it was, the moment of truth. She just needed to stick this thing inside of herself and give it a squeeze..! And then wait and see if it took. And try again if need be...

Janet unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off along with her underwear in one movement. And then she stood there with the baster hovering between her legs, vacillating.

In that moment, she felt incredibly sad and somewhat repulsed. How had she gotten to this point in her life? How pathetic and ridiculous was she to be doing this? She just had to have a baby that badly? If she were willing to depart from the "conventional path" then why did she need to have a kid at all? Plenty of women in the world lived fulfilling, purposeful lives without bearing children. And here she was, alone in their apartment, pants-less in the bathroom, trying to inseminate herself? With the 'fucking turkey baster'?

This... this wasn't how things were supposed to go. This was the complete opposite of that -- as unromantic and unappealing a way to go about it as she could possibly imagine. If it were ever going to happen, the whole thing should be completely different.

Her mind, unprompted, flashed back to the last time she and Tommy had had sex, which Janet had to admit to herself had always been good, whatever his shortcomings outside of bed. Panting for breath, basking in that post-sex glow, her desires satiated, warm seed trickling between her legs, feeling in that moment, no matter how briefly, totally content and connected with her partner.

I can't do this

, Janet thought.

Not like this...

Abruptly, she held the baster over the toilet and before she could think twice about it, she gave it a sharp squeeze, ejecting its contents into the bowl.

I'm sorry, Samantha

.

She wondered what she was going to tell her, how exactly she was going to explain that after everything it had taken to get this, she had just ended up flushing it away. But as she pulled her pants back up, Janet couldn't help but feel that she had made the right decision.

***

"Oh, yes, fuck me Michael, just like that!"

Samantha had seen the surprise on her boyfriend's face when she had practically thrown herself at him upon arriving at his place, but he was more than happy to accommodate, going along without question, helping her to undress himself as she kissed him furiously.

This was it, this was what she needed, she'd thought, stroking his manhood through his boxer shorts, getting him hard and ready, before pulling her panties off in one fluid motion, falling back on the couch, pulling him on top of her. She reached down to hike her dress up and guide him into her loins, warm and tight and wet, moaning as he entered.

It was all she needed, she told herself again, breathing hard, panting, her blue eyes fixed on the ceiling as Michael buried his face in her neck, kissing and licking. Just to be taken and feel like a woman again...

But somewhere deep inside of herself was a nagging, persisting thought... She wanted to do it with Michael because she was horny. Still horny from before...

No, no...

She pushed the uncomfortable thought away. She just wanted this. This affirmation that she was still herself, her regular old self, unchanged, still just the same old Samantha, ready to get married to the man of her dreams. And indeed it was all very good, it was

great

, it felt wonderful.

Michael was getting into it too, pumping her with an atypical enthusiasm, obviously motivated by her own. Of course, they'd been together for a few years now, and the scorching hot romp sessions of the honeymoon phase of their relationship had given way to the less spontaneous, more comfortable mating of a long term couple. This change of pace was clearly exciting for him.

It was made only more evident when he pulled out, hauling her around so that she was on all fours, himself half on the couch with one knee and a leg on the floor as he took her from behind. It was this uncharacteristic move that had caused her to call out, encouraging him.

"Yea, baby, give it to me like that... Fuck..!"

Michael gave a groan of appreciation as he slammed into her rear, his hands roving all over as if he couldn't figure out where he wanted to grope her most, grabbing her firm ass, gripping her trim waist, reaching around and feeling up her bouncing tits.

Samantha was usually a little too self-conscious to be very vocal, and wasn't really prone to dirty talk either, unless maybe it was a special occasion and she'd had a few drinks to loosen herself up, but right now, she just felt a little unrestrained, a little wild. A bit... unhinged...

"Uhhh... oh yes, Michael, keep fucking me... Your big dick feels so good..."

His cock, his big hard cock. Pushing in and out of her. Samantha was obsessed with it, felt like somehow her senses were heightened, so that she could feel every inch of it, the ribbing of his thick head, the pulsing of the veins traversing the length of his shaft...

It was so hot, so hard and rigid. Her pussy was dripping, squeezing it tight...

How must it feel?

The thought arose inside of her abruptly, unbidden. Inside of her wet, sopping slit. Rubbing it back and forth inside of her soft, warm folds. Stimulating it, making it feel good. Feeling the pressure build and build, agonizing and delicious, until it was finally too much to handle, and all of the hot, pent-up semen finally came

gushing

out, in incredible spurting bursts of pleasure, each pulsing throb satiating some deep, lustful animal instinct to copulate, to mate, to impregnate...

Why are you thinking about this right now?

Samantha admonished herself distractedly.

That's so sick...

She tried to push these uninvited thoughts away, but somehow they stubbornly persisted. Samantha was panting perversely, unable to halt this sudden, involuntary vivid imagining of fucking with a cock, even as she was getting fucked... Michael's member was growing extra stiff and hot, ready to blow, as he was frantically humping her from behind, while she pushed her ass back to meet his thrusts, mewling, mind swirling with confused, obscene thoughts, equally consumed with competing desires of taking and being taken...

When her boyfriend gave a great cry and slammed himself up to the hilt inside of her, pressed up against her round ass, hips erratically thrusting, Samantha threw her head back, screaming out, and even as she felt the hot seed splashing her insides, she wasn't able to stop herself from re-living the sensations that she knew Michael was experiencing at that very moment; that raw, animal pleasure of ejaculating, the deep throbbing bliss of each

squirt

pumping out, again and again and again...

"Nnnnngh

fuck

..!

"Fuck..."

Samantha's moans trailed off into little whimpers as Michael gave her a few more weak, compulsive thrusts, before staying locked inside, gasping, catching his breath. He gave a little groan as he eventually pulled out his wilting member, collapsing on the couch beside her.

"Wow," he panted, lying there with an arm flung over his sweaty forehead. "Wow.

"That was... that was amazing."

She agreed, though she was practically catatonic, unable to muster the will to respond. Now that the all-consuming lust was extinguished, Samantha was left only with the reflection over those perverse, disconcerting thoughts that had filled her head. Why the hell had they come to her then? What was wrong with her..? She didn't want that. That was totally sick. She didn't want any of that...

After a while, Michael hauled himself up with a groan, heading to the bathroom to clean up.

"What brought that on?" he called back as he crossed the room.

"I... I don't know," Samantha lied.