The Fertility Clinic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are 18 years of age or older. Names, characters, events, and scenarios are entirely fictional and not based on real persons or events. This story contains explicit content intended for adult readers only and is a product of imagination, not reality. The creator assumes no responsibility for readers’ interpretations or actions. Reader discretion is advised.

Act 1: The Tease

I pull into the fertility clinic lot, tires crunching gravel, hands sweaty as hell on the wheel.

The doc says my sperm’s probably crap. My fiancée’s been on my ass for months, whining about why we’re not pregnant. I’ve been dodging this test, but she’s relentless.

They shove me into this tiny sample room, bare walls, a buzzing bulb dangling like it’s about to die, stack of dog-eared porn mags on a shelf with curled, sticky corners.

I’m supposed to jerk off into a cup, some little plastic thing with my name scrawled on it, but I’ve been at it ten minutes, and my dick’s just limp. It’s mocking me from my unzipped jeans.

My stepcousin Mia’s the nurse who checked me in, five-six, long black hair tied back in a messy ponytail, big tits crammed into tight blue scrubs, juicy ass hugging her pants so hard it’s obscene - like she’s almost daring someone to stare.

She smirked when she handed me the cup earlier, green eyes glinting like she’s laughing at my sorry ass, and I fumbled it. I dropped it twice, face burning as she snorted.

I’ve known her since we were kids back when she’d tease me for my comic books and thick glasses, but now she’s changed.

I’m flipping through these mags. Tits and asses stare back, blonde with a rack, brunette with a bush, but my hands shake, sweat drips down my neck, and nothing’s happening.