I hated Sarah.
Well, I loathed her, to be more precise.
Which was why it shocked me when she and my sister, Rayya, asked if I could be their sperm donor.
We were at the local coffee shop, not too far from where Rayya and I shared an apartment. It wasn't a Starbucks—there were no Starbucks in this part of Toronto—but Rayya and I had known the owners since we were in elementary school, and besides, they served good latte.
Admittedly, I thought it was weird when they invited me out. Rayya knew that I hated her girlfriend—the feeling was mutual, she once reminded me—and always met with us separately. The last time the three of us were together was to celebrate Rayya's birthday, and, even then, we tried to stay clear of each other.
If that hadn't been clue enough that they were plotting something, Rayya's behavior should have been a dead giveaway. She was normally talkative and outgoing. Before she and Sarah hooked up a few years back, Rayya was the one to plan out what we were going to do every day: feed fried chicken to Uncle Sam's crazy dog, visit the abandoned train tracks where it was once believed that ghosts haunted. And while she had mellowed out significantly since she started dating Sarah, she was still the extrovert in our family.
Now, however, she found it hard to meet my eyes. When I asked her if she and Sarah wanted my help with something, she laughed as if I had just delivered the punchline to a hilarious joke. Sarah had to elbow Rayya so that my sister could stop being an idiot and get to the fucking point.
"The truth is, little brother," Rayya said. Her voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, which was pointless because we were the only ones in the coffee shop. I had to lean forward to hear her next words. "We want you to be our sperm donor."
"Sorry?" I asked. Had I misheard her?
Rayya groaned. "We want you to be our sperm donor, you dick!"
One of the owners of the coffee shop, who had been cleaning glasses behind the bar, raised his flaccid jowls in our direction, and then disappeared into the kitchen. Sarah's cheeks burned crimson and she stared daggers at Rayya, who, after saying what was on her mind, became more relaxed.
"Wait. You're serious? I didn't know you guys wanted a child." I tried to play it cool, but I knew I was doing a poor job of it. I took a sip of my latte to hide my puzzlement—and discomfort. "Isn't it a bit... soon?"
"You don't get to decide the right time for us to have kids," Sarah said.
"Most couples wait until they both have jobs before thinking of having kids."
"You have zero right to comment on my employment history." Not intending to give me a chance to respond, Sarah stood up to leave, but before she could walk away from our table, Rayya grabbed her hand.
"Can you two stop arguing with each other for five minutes?" When we made no gesture to indicate that we could stop arguing with each other for any length of time, Rayya said, "For me?"
"You're a bitch, you know that?" Sarah asked, half-joking.
For once, I agreed with her, though I wouldn't admit it. Rayya simply grinned when Sarah returned to her seat.
I took another sip of my latte.
"Let's say that I agree to do this," I said, "Where are we going to get the money for it? Artificial insemination doesn't sound cheap."
"It's not. We checked," Rayya admitted, "Which was why we had a different idea."
The door to the coffee shop opened and I was temporarily distracted by the lady who entered. She was my type: tall, dark skin, full lips, and a hot rack. She seemed a bit young but that didn't bother me. The man who had directed his jowls at us revealed himself from behind the kitchen to take the lady's order.
"Hey, bro, I understand if your little guy gets distracted, but can I have your attention?"
"It's not little."
Rayya ignored me. "As I was saying, Sarah and I had a different idea. Actually, Aunt Karen gave the idea to us."
That got my attention. "Does dad know that you and Aunt Karen still talk?"
"Dad doesn't have to know shit. Right? Now, can I return to what I was saying?"
I nodded. Rayya continued, "Aunt Karen couldn't afford artificial insemination, either, when she and Ms. Michelle were together. But, they still really wanted a kid. Well, Ms. Michelle happened to have an older brother who was much more understanding about their relationship than our dad was. Because her little brother knew how badly they wanted a child, and because they were all very close, he agreed to inseminate Aunt Karen the old fashioned way."
I nearly spat out my latte. The lady who had just entered gave me a weird look as she left. The man with the thick jowls disappeared behind the kitchen again.
"Aunt Karen had sex with her girlfriend's brother?"
"It's not sex!" Sarah said. Her cheeks were red again. "Ms. Michelle's brother just jerked himself off. Then, he stuck his penis into Ms. Karen right before he shot his load. If you call that 'sex', then that says a lot about your past relationships."
Admittedly, the execution sounded less glamorous than what one thought of when they imagined sex. Still, my penis would be going into Sarah's pussy. "I don't know about this," I said.
"What? You don't find Sarah attractive?" Rayya asked.
"It's not that," I must have said this with more conviction than I realized because Sarah and Rayya looked surprised. "Don't get me wrong. I still hate Sarah. That won't change. But, I also have eyes. And I know that you didn't fall in love with her just for her personality."
"You're damn right," Rayya admitted and laughed when Sarah punched her shoulder. That got me laughing, too.
Sarah was one of the few white women I knew, and while I didn't have a fetish for snow bunnies, I had to admit that Sarah was a hot piece of ass. She had blonde hair, brown eyes, killer tits, and an ass that begged to be spanked. Because she usually dressed conservatively—even now, she wore a hoodie and sweatpants—one would be forgiven in thinking that she was unattractive. Thankfully, she dressed more liberally when she visited Rayya and me.
I cleared my throat to get their attention. "Say that I do agree to this. Won't it make things kind of awkward?"
"I won't make it awkward if you won't," Rayya said.
She and I then looked to Sarah, who rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. When this is over, we'll hate each other just as much."
We agreed to meet at Sarah's house on Saturday. She said she felt more comfortable there than at our place. I couldn't blame her for that.
Rayya had told me to not jerk off before we all planned to meet. "We need all that baby batter for Saturday," she reminded me. When I wasn't seeing a woman, which I hadn't been for at least a few months, I would jerk off multiple times a day.
Going five days without fapping would be a challenge.
Rayya figured I would have a hard time not touching myself. Since she and I started living together, we had become close.
She once made the mistake of entering my room without knocking and was understandably surprised to see me wanking my cock. I had quickly covered myself with the bedsheets, but she only laughed to indicate that it wasn't a big deal, and she apologized for disturbing me. The next day, she had left her bedroom door open and I had peeped in to see her playing with her clit with a Hitachi Magic Wand. When our eyes met, she had smiled, as if to say, "I saw yours so it's only fair that you see mine." After that, we silently agreed to knock before entering.
"You doing alright?" she asked when Wednesday came around. She had been staying at Sarah's house since the three of us had met at the coffee shop but would check up on me every now and again to make sure that I hadn't fapped (and out of genuine concern for my wellbeing, I liked to think).
I was just finishing up an article for the Toronto Star when she came in. Because I worked as a freelance writer, I spent most of my days at home. Rayya was an elementary school teacher. She was still in her black blouse and jacket when she visited me.
"If you're asking if I've jerked off, the answer is 'no'", I said, "I've been taking long walks to clear my head."
She smiled and took my hand. "Thank you. You're really helping us out by doing this."
"We're siblings. We have each other's back."
That was what I had told Rayya when we first moved in together. Our dad had thrown her out of our house when he discovered that she and Sarah were dating. He had tried to convince himself that his daughter was straight, despite the clear signs that she was not, but could no longer fool himself when she brought Sarah home. While I didn't hate our dad, I also didn't want Rayya to have to live by herself, which was how we ended up living together.
She would have done the same for me.
She stayed for an hour but said she had to go back home because Sarah was preparing dinner. I asked her how Sarah was feeling about the situation.
"She's nervous," Rayya admitted.
"I won't do it if she doesn't want to do it."
"You know, this was her idea," Rayya laughed when she saw my shocked expression, "Don't tell her I told you that, but I swear this was her idea, bro. We both wanted kids, but we knew we didn't have the money for artificial insemination. That was when she brought up the story Aunt Karen had told us. So, trust me when I tell you that she is fine with going through with this. But, she is still nervous. Heck, aren't we all?"
That was the truth. My horniness was doubly injurious because of my nerves. Perhaps Rayya noticed this because she punched my chest. "Relax, bro! Sarah also hasn't had black cock before, so she's pretty nervous about that, too."
My cock got hard immediately. That, added with the fact that I had not masturbated in a couple of days, made a noticeable tent in my pants. Rayya smirked. She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, "If we're being really honest, I'm a little excited to watch you shove your big, black cock up her slutty cunt."
I went for an extra-long walk that night.
Saturday came around. I could barely sleep the night before. I had walked the streets for what seemed like hours—and likely was hours—before going to bed.
Rayya and Sarah would be expecting me at around one. That gave me time to eat, shower, and go for another walk.
Sarah's house was on the far end of the neighborhood, which was slightly wealthier than the part in which Rayya and I lived. While I didn't know the whole story, Rayya had once told me that Sarah's dad had given the house to Sarah as a gift, but then left Toronto when Sarah told him that she was gay. This had been a few months before she had even met Rayya.
Obviously, asking her dad for money was not a serious option.
I drove to Sarah's house in the car Rayya and I shared. When I knocked on the door, Rayya answered.
She grinned when she saw me. "Ready?" She closed the door behind me and guided me upstairs and into the bedroom she shared with Sarah, who was currently sitting on the edge of the bed. Sarah stood up when I entered.
