Donor

[Toon]

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

1995

I was in the middle of my sophomore year of college when I suddenly realized that all of my closest friends were from single-parent families or 'broken homes'. All of my crew had seen some trouble in their childhood. Alcoholism, divorce, suicide, periods of homelessness, etc. I knew nothing of those things in my own history. My parents were boring, white, middle-class and stable. I began to wonder why I had chosen these friends and/or why they'd chosen me. Years later I asked a therapist about this and her response was fairly sensible. "Maybe they're drawn to your stability...or you are drawn to their chaos. Or maybe it's just a fluke." OK. 

My best friend Andrea never knew her real father. She just referred to him as 'my sperm donor'. I always played with that term in my head. I'd imagine random dudes walking up to one of those red kettles you see next to people ringing a bell and jacking off into it. The whole thing would be close to overflowing with milky sperm by the end of the day. It was fun to fantasize about. I never talked about it, but probably everyone knew I was gay. I was never asked.

1999

I'd graduated with a degree in Industrial Design...which was just something I happened upon. You know your TV remote? The shape of it and the spacing between the buttons was all decided by an industrial designer somewhere. Not all that interesting -- except to other designers. I was recruited by a company in a decent-sized city with a depressingly-large Mormon population. I'd always thought those freaks were all kept in Utah, but apparently they had taken over other places. I'd put in a good year or two at this place before looking elsewhere. 

I pretty much hated everything about my new life. The job itself wasn't so bad, but most all of the citizens were religious zombies with six or seven kids. I couldn't escape them. The only people I talked to on a regular basis were the brassy, overweight secretary at work (I swear Bette Midler could play her in a movie) and one of the janitors in my apartment building. Roy was a friendly little Mexican bear with a winning smile. I guess he liked me because I didn't look down on his job or have the lofty attitude that so many of the white-collar young snots in my building had. I always said 'hello' when I saw him when he was mopping or vacuuming or whatever. He spoke perfect English (with only the faintest of accents) and came across as pretty intelligent. 

"Good morning, Roy. Are you always on the clock?"

"Seems like it, doesn't it? I'm going through a divorce right now and I need all the hours I can get."

"Sorry to hear that. Kids?"

He shook his head 'no'. "No, I suppose that is a blessing."

"Oh well...I'm running late. Gotta get to work."

"Have a wonderful day, Tim."

Well, it was the opposite of 'wonderful'. I fell om some rain-soaked concrete steps outside and broke my damn ankle, Because it happened on company property, the security team made me give a pee sample. My understanding is that if I were on drugs or drunk, they wouldn't be liable. Because I was clean, they had to cover all of my hospital bills and give me time off. It was a generous amount of leave because they were legally obligated. Luckily, it was a simple break and wouldn't require surgery. The pain pills kicked ass. I was pretty much helpless while medicated but I didn't care. I had cable TV and the internet. This would be a sort of drugged vacation. Worse things happened to people. 

I got around pretty well with crutches. TV game shows and reruns got tiresome within 48 hours. Computer porn didn't do much for my boredom because the pain pills had numbed me in all kinds of unhelpful places. I only left the apartment to get my mail, a newspaper or a soda from the vending machine. It was on one of those little ventures out that I ran into Roy.

"Holy Christ! What happened to you??"

"I broke my ankle, but I'm healing fast."

"Your right foot - so you can't drive, right?"

"No. Not for another sixty days."

"Do you need things from the store?"

"Nah. I have an attendant who comes by every other day to get me what I need. I don't even have to pay for any of it."

"Thanks be to God. You look very tired."

"Just the pills. I came down to get a Mountain Dew so I could wake up a little." 

"Stay there. I'll get it for you. Bottle or can? They have both."

"Can's fine. Thanks."

He returned with a Dew and wouldn't let me pay him. "It's cool. I got a key to the machine. I'll bring you another one later after I clean the windows down here."

"I appreciate it, Roy. I'll leave the door unlocked because I sometimes fall asleep and don't hear the knocking."

He seemed surprised by my offering of trust. "No no. Lock your door. I have keys to every apartment." 

"Oh. OK."

"I will always knock first."

"OK. Well...drop by any time. My schedule is all messed up when I'm not working."  On the elevator ride back up, I wondered why I didn't feel uneasy about some guy being able to just walk right into my home. I guess it's the reality of apartment living. You never really own anything as a renter -- not even privacy. And Roy was a good person. I believed that, 

I watched some really dumb game shows for a few hours, and then there was the 'knock' I'd been looking forward to. 

"Come on in."

Roy entered and was a little pissed off that I hadn't locked the door. He was carrying a six-pack of Corona and a Mountain Dew. "You think this place is so safe? It seems that way, but it's really not."

"I'm pretty medicated, Roy. I forget things."

"I'll lock it for you when I leave. I brought us some beers. You like Corona?" I'd never tried it.

"Yeah, but I can't drink alcohol while taking these pills. Have one yourself, though."

"Great. I need one. I like your place...your TV is very big. My soon-to-be ex wife kept ours and now I just watch a little portable thing with a broken antenna." He opened a beer and rested it on his knee. "Life sure hasn't turned out like I'd hoped." That was the kind of statement that is meant to prompt followup questions, so I obliged.

"How did you want it to turn out, Roy?"

"I wanted to stay married and raise a bunch of kids and give them happy lives. It wasn't meant to be."

"Your wife couldn't have children?"

"Wouldn't have them. Not with me anyway."

"Oh. Sorry." 

"There's more to it, but I don't much like to talk about that stuff. Not now." He had a few more beers and then left the rest of the in my refrigerator. 

After a few more doctor appointments, I was told I was close to 100 % healed. Good news except they cut me off the pain pills cold turkey. I had no idea how much I'd depended on them, but at least I only had a few sleepless nights instead of some crazy freak out like you see on TV shows about addiction. I still had a bit of a limp but was assured that it would go away in a few weeks. During all this progress and healing, Roy was a frequent visitor. I wondered if I was his only friend. He had really been my only friend for the last two months. We talked for hours...well, he talked mostly while I listened. He needed an outlet for his frustration and grief about his failed marriage and lack of children. "I had nine brothers and sisters. Nine! We were so close and took care of each other."

"Are you Catholic?"

"Yeah, technically. But that's not why I want kids. I can't explain it. So, you back to work on Monday?"

"Yup. I'm actually looking forward to getting back into a routine."

"Well - we have to celebrate on Saturday night. I'll cook you dinner and bring some wine. You stopped the pain pills, right?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to cook for me, man. We can go out somewhere."

"Too late.I already bought most of the stuff. You have skillets? Pans?"

"Yes. Rarely-used ones." He chuckled and left. My oven had only been used for cooking frozen pizza, and my stove had never been used. Mom had loaded me up with cookware when I first moved here. Is it weird that I was sort of thinking of the upcoming dinner as a 'date'? I told myself it wasn't. He was straight and not at all what you'd call 'my type'. So anyway. I got up pretty ear;y on Saturday morning and went to the mall. I needed the walk -- to help rebuild my leg muscles and also to burn off some nervous energy. I picked up assorted things here and there...throw pillows, scented candles, wine glasses and these really snazzy rock coasters with what looked like fossils inside. It wasn't a date, but I was preparing as if it were. I'm stupid. Roy was a friend - not a suitor. 

Of course he arrived early - before I had fully settled myself into the right mood. 

"Wow. It smells nice in here. Candles? I need to get some of those." He came with two loaded bags of stuff and went directly to my kitchen like he lived here too.  "Cool - wine glasses! I forgot to even ask you if you had any." He clanked around at my oven and shelves while I just stood like a giant pigeon in the middle of my living room. I thought about turning the TV on but was thinking maybe I should go keep him company in the kitchen while he cooked. "You got some music? I like to hear music when I cook."

"What do you like?"

"It's your party, buddy. Pick something and I'll pour us some wine."

This would require a little thought and I wasn't prepared. I stuck in David Byrne's first solo CD. I loved it and it was very influenced by Latin culture. It started and was maybe a little too loud. I went to the kitchen. Roy had pretty much taken over everything and was already browning some crumbled meat in a skillet and adding various seasonings. The oven was also on. He handed me a glass pf dark red wine. "Casa Medaro. It's not easy to find. Try it." I knew absolutely nothing about wine except that the few times I'd tasted it I hadn't liked it so much. "It's good, huh?" It was...which is good because he brought three bottles of it. 

"What are you making? It smells wonderful."

"This and that. Pull up a chair and chat with me as I chop vegetables...these knives look like they've never been used." They hadn't. "Doesn't mean you don't have to sharpen the from time to time. My father taught me that." 

I finally noticed how Roy was dressed. I'd only ever seen him in his dark blue coveralls but now he was in a nice polo shirt, shorts and sandals. His short, powerful legs were covered with black fur and I had this image of him standing in the shower with rivulets of water tracing little paths through the thick black hair. His wife was an idiot for letting him go. 

The food was incredible and I might have overdone it with the compliments. We'd already polished off one and half bottles of wine by the time the meal was finished. I blew out the candles when we came back into the living room. Their scent wasn't making much headway against the cooking smells. I turned the music down a little and told my guest to make himself comfortable. Now what? I didn't want to overthink this. 

"Whoa. Cool coasters. Are those little fossils? You should have seen all the fossils I used to find in Coahuila. That's where my parents are from. Let's finish up the second bottle. My divorce was final as yesterday. I don't have any more legal bills, but I also don't have much of anything else either. Bitch got everything."

"Everything??"

"Yeah. In every way possible."

"Your lawyer should have worked harder on your behalf."

"Let's just say that she had me over a barrel. Let's open the last bottle. I have two more at my place if we decide we need more." He took off his sandals which I guess some would consider rude, but I liked that he felt at home here...plus it gave me a chance to admire his fat little toes. He padded back to the kitchen and fetched the tasty wine. I don't think I'd ever drank so much and still felt so alert and mostly normal. My antenna was up because I'd been around troubled people for so long and it seemed like he wanted to talk about something, but I couldn't push him right now.

"Want to watch a movie?" He shook his head and handed me a way-too-full glass.

"No no. Let's just talk. Tell me what your job is again...I still don't quite understand what you do."

"I design everyday things to make them easier for people to use. Right before my accident, we were working on new ATM machines. They have to be the right height and simple to understand and also look nice. The bank rejected our first proposed design because it didn't look 'friendly'." Roy nodded as if he understood.

"So yeah...I have HIV."

What? Wow. I mean, wow. I wasn't expecting that. "Is that why you're getting a divorce?"

"Pretty much. That's really your first question? Huh. I figured you'd ask me how I got it...."

"I shouldn't have asked anything. I should have just said 'I'm sorry.' Blame the wine. I'm not a drinker."

"So...do you want to know?" His eyes were full of hurt.

"Only if if you want to tell me, Roy."

He shrugged. "It was so stupid. I never went to college, but I always followed my friends when they went to Padre Island for spring breaks. Drunk chicks with hardly clothes on and lots of alcohol automatically guarantees a good time. But stuff goes on there. Bad stuff. That's all I can say for now."

"It's fine, Roy. I mean it's not 'fine'...it's just... I'm fine. I was blessed with a really good pair of ears in case you need to talk."

"I know this. My wife is still negative somehow. But she wouldn't go near my dick after I told her. I wanted so much to have kids... lots of them. Magic Johnson's wife didn't leave him and she had one of his babies even."

"And that was a while ago. There are probably all kinds of new drugs now."

"Yeah. Probably too expensive for me. You're a guy, Tim...don't you wish you could spread your seed? It's biological. I can't even give away my genes now."

"Some people are missing limbs or have brain damage, Roy. Some people don't even get the chance to be alive. My mom had three miscarriages before I was born. I'm not diminishing your pain or anything, I'm just saying that life is a roll of a dice."

He looked down and took another sip of wine. "I wish I had donated sperm when it was clean...then at least I might have some kids out there somewhere."

I tried to cheer him up by telling him how I used to imagine guys donating sperm on the street. He looked at me funny. 

"That's a very strange thing to imagine, Tim. It's...it's so sad that nobody would even pay a cent for my seed now."

"I would."

"What? OK, no more wine for you, buddy. You have been over-served."

"Not so much, really. You told me a big secret and now I'll tell you one -- I'm gay." His expression didn't change in the slightest. 

"Yeah. I guess maybe I knew that. You're too clean and too polite. I'm totally straight, but if I was gay I'd marry you so fast." That was a very nice thing to say. I would have accepted his proposal. 

"Thanks, Roy. You'd make a great husband -- even if you weren't handsome and couldn't cook such great food." He smiled at last.

"You think I'm 'handsome'?"

"Oh yeah. Very."

"I still think you're just too drunk." Unless I was very much mistaken, he had dropped a hand to his crotch to hide a growing boner. 

"I can help you with that." Shit. Maybe I was drunk. 

"You...you'd suck me? Even with the HIV?" I hadn't even meant oral sex  -- I was just going to jack him off, but okay. 

"It's pretty much safe. I'd even pay you for the chance."

"Yeah. I won't touch you and I won't cum in your mouth. Ten bucks." 

"Deal." I hadn't even bothered to notice how things were moving. It seems like we were just discussing ATM's. I quickly got on my knees right between his furry legs in one liquid motion. He stood up and pulled down his shorts. No underwear. I had to wonder if he hadn't seen this coming (so to speak). His dick was not massive, but it was chubby and curved severely upward toward the tip. How his wife never managed to never get infected was one of God's mysteries. I was careful not to touch him with my hands. I just opened my mouth and let him put the head of his dick past my lips.

"Ahhhh! I never thought I'd ever feel my dick sucked again!" He stabbed that dagger of a dong farther in with each thrust. I don't know if he knew this was my first time. He said he wouldn't touch me, but he grabbed handfuls of my hair as he did his thing. "Yeah...suck that cock!" I imagined he had his eyes closed or was looking at the ceiling - or anything else besides the male blowing him. "OK! Stop! I'm gonna cum! STOP!" I did. I missed that penis as soon as it was out of my mouth. He was shooting his load now over my head. I turned my face up to catch what I could and saw he was looking straight down at me. He knew I wanted at least a taste and he aimed it for my nose. Drops and dribbles landed on my eyelids and lips. It was so much warmer than I expected. "Wow." The CD had ended at some point and I hadn't even noticed.

I stood up and savored the flavor of Roy for a a second before finishing my glass of wine.  There were a few pubes in my mouth. "Thanks, man."

He pulled up his shorts. "YOU are thanking ME??" 

"Thanking you for your kind donation. Thanking you warmly."

It was kind of awkward to just continue the evening like nothing happened so Roy decided he should call it a night. "I'll stop by tomorrow and do the dishes. Good night, Tim."

As soon as he was gone, I lied flat on the floor and beat off. If this is how satisfying sex always was, I'm sorry I'd never tried it before. After the orgasm, I realized I'd forgotten to give him the ten dollars. I'd finish the rest of the wine left in the bottle and wait until he was probably asleep and then go slip a twenty under his door. Hell, I'd leave a fifty dollar bill if I had that. I turned on the TV and found some B movie that only a drinker could possibly find amusing. I fished a twenty out of a little stash of money I kept on hand for emergencies. The building was quiet for a Saturday night as I took the elevator down to the first floor where Roy lived in a little studio apartment. I'd briefly thought of leaving a note too, but maybe that wouldn't be wise since he might have all kinds of second thoughts about what we'd done. I sure wasn't.

I slept so soundly that night and woke up fairly late with only the smallest of hangovers. I showered, dressed and then went to wash the dishes. The twenty had been returned through the crack in my door. A little post-it was attached. You don't have to pay for donations,  R  Roy knocked on my door around 2 that afternoon. My heart did a cartwheel. He was in nice casual clothes again and looked like a million bucks. How did I ever think he wasn't my type? 

"How you feeling today, amigo?"

"Fine. Really fine. Good to see you again." 

"I'm ready to help you clean up."

"It's all done. You left your corkscrew and I even washed that." He plopped down on my couch and removed his sandals again.

"The game is on. You follow the Diamondbacks?" 

"Off and on. I still have those Coronas you left a while back. Want one?"

"Sure. Why not?"

By the fourth inning, I was sucking his dick again. It wasn't planned or expected by either of us. I even touched the back of his calves this time. I knew he wanted me to swallow his load this time but he just wouldn't do it. He pulled out again and baptized me with hot seed. I got a big glob in my eye which stung like fuck, but I didn't indicate my pain in an way. He just pulled his shorts on again and we finished watching the game as if nothing happened. We chatted like buddies and drank the beers.

The routine remained the same on an almost daily basis. We'd hang out, I'd suck him and he'd shoot all over my face. I kept trying to hold him in my mouth as long as I could...and one day he came in my mouth, and we didn't ever discuss it. By the middle of Summer, I'd swallowed a gallon of his cum. He enentually let me hold hold his hairy ass as he thrust. It was perfect. He got to release his seed and I got to be on the receiving end. On July 4th, he brought over a box of wine. I knew they sold it like this, but had never tried it. It was a 'blush' and Roy assured me it was "better than you'd think". It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. We were watching "A League of Their Own" on TV and enjoying the wine and friendly talk like usual.

"Isn't it always weird how late it gets dark this time of year? It makes the days seem so long." It wasn't night yet but we heard random fireworks outside. 

"After dark, the park across the street is supposed to have one of those big public firework displays."

"Can we see it from here?"

"No. Not from this room, but my bedroom faces the park." I didn't mean for that to be any sort of suggestive invitation, but it probably came out that way.  

"Cool. We can watch it there. It should be dark in an hour. More wine?" We'd brought the box out to the living room and were just refilling during commercial breaks. I didn't want to put another movie in when "League" had ended. I wanted to talk as dusk approached. I needed to talk but had no idea how to start.

"I read an article in Newsweek about all these great new AIDS drugs coming out. Some of them can make the virus undetectable in your blood."

"Yeah, and I bet I could afford exactly none of them."

"Too bad you don't look more like me. You could use my I.D. and insurance card to get care."

"Yeah. If you had HIV, you could get those pills and we could share them." 

It's funny how an idea can spark and spread like fire through dry grass. I was thinking about things I never thought I'd ever consider. It was almost dark.

"Bring the wine and let's go watch the show." 

My bedroom was as neat and nice as the rest of the place. Roy made himself comfortable on my bed and propped up on the pillows as I opened the blinds. I turned off the lights to better see the fireworks. I knew these things never started on time, but I wanted to lie in bed with him in the lush darkness. He'd undressed completely as if he had been reading my mind. 

"You know I'm not gay, Tim. Right?"

"Yes."

"Still, I'd like to fuck you and give you my HIV. Would you be willing?"

"Oh yes. I was going to suggest that if you didn't."

"OK. I've fucked a man before...it's probably how I got the disease in the first place. But you have to be sure you want to make this sacrifice for me. We can get those new drugs if you test positive."

"My plan exactly." I turned over on my stomach without thinking too much about how it probably wouldn't be too practical for each of us to take half-doses of a medicine - it might even be harmful. I'd just let him have all of it, and I'd bide my time. There...solved. I wanted him to fuck me so bad. That was the goal.

He spit on my butt crack and rubbed the hard head up and down to get some on himself. He spit again and then again. He was jerking himself off. "I want to make this as quick as I can for you. I'm almost ready... OK. Let's do this."  I had never once imagined that it would be such a hot, searing pain. I winced and sucked in air between my teeth. "You OK?"

"I...yeah..don't go in any more just now. Let me...ow...let me get used to it for a second."

"Deal. Wow...it feels so nice! Hot and tight. Damn! How about just a little more?" 

"Yeah." I figured it couldn't possibly get any worse. But it did somehow. I could feel the sensitive skin down there rip a little. No way. I needed to stop this now, but then...but the the searing turned into more of an ache. Tolerable. It didn't feel good, but I could survive this. He was all the way in when he let himself collapse on my back. It was like a heavy, hairy cushion  covering me and I liked that part. He kept up a steady pace of pumping and grunting.

"I'm about to let it out..I'm ready to...FUCK!" He was shooting that tainted payload deep into my ruined ass. It happened faster than I could think. He probably did that on purpose before I changed my mind. We stayed prone like that for a good twenty seconds while he caught his breath. "Thank you, Tim. You doing that for me means so much."

I needed the bathroom right away for obvious reasons. I took care of things as best I could and returned to the bedroom where I saw the still-naked Roy wiping off his dick of with some tissues from my nightstand. "You OK? The fireworks just started." They certainly had. 

"Yeah. You can use the shower if you want, I'll get you a towel."

"Maybe later. Let's watch the show."

We both relaxed on the bed and made random comments about the display...as if nothing even remotely new had happened. I couldn't stop my overactive imagination from picturing what the virus was doing in my body now. Was it blasting away my immune system like dynamite? Or had the fuse just been lit? Was it like there were little vandals in my bloodstream, randomly breaking things in random organs? The fireworks ended about an hour later and Roy said he was too tired and comfortable to get dressed and leave and the promptly fell asleep.

So our breeding sessions continued for a few more months. It felt like we were lovers except that we didn't kiss or show any physical affection when we were together. I was just a release for a friend who liked to shoot his seed in warm places. I would also his means to medical treatment. Was I as okay with that and that only? For how long? I kept putting off getting tested and Roy didn't push me to get it over with. I was waiting for an appointment with my regular doctor in early November when I always went to get a flu shot. 

As November 2 approached, Roy hit me with the news that his brother had gotten a really good job in San Diego with a landscaping business. "He said he'd get me hired and the pay is really good - and comes with health insurance!"

"Wow. Congratulations. It's supposed to be very beautiful there." I don't think I said that very convincingly. "When are you leaving?"

"The week of Thanksgiving. I need to sell all my shit and just go." That's it? No mention of me or the damage he'd done to me? No apology? "We can go celebrate tonight if you want to."

"No. Just go. We're done here. Goodbye, Roy." He looked surprised and hurt, but I mean -- what the fuck?

I didn't give him much of a chance to say anything, just showed him to the door and locked it after he left. It was over, but it never would anything anyway. Of course I tested positive and my very cool doctor assured me she'd see to it that I'd have a long life. I also started seeing a therapist in the same building. He and I are still sorting through all of this. One concrete obstacle we keep hitting is how I could feel mourning for a love I'd never technically had. He encouraged me to write about it.

I just did.