A gay story: THE CURE. Ch. 01 A new lethal disease affects a large proportion of the men in their early twenties. Thankfully, the authorities have finally found a cure: ingesting good old spunk! And those young beta males are going to need to swallow A LOT of it if they want to survive.
The story, names, and places are entirely fictional. All characters featured in the story are above 18. This story is only meant to be read by a mature audience, and in any case, by people over the age of 18.
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THE CURE
Chapter 1: The live presentation
We were all nervous waiting for the President’s announcements.
President Harrison was supposed to hold another press conference at 6pm and this time, rumour had it there would finally be some good news. There had been a breakthrough. Apparently, a Cure had been found!
I did not want to get my hopes up though. We had been disappointed so many times before.
We were all gathered in the living space of the frat house. Nine guys, all part of the rowing team, all jocks, and yet, nine nervous wrecks.
Everyone had gotten back early to make sure not to miss the press conference.
The whole country would be watching for sure. It was mandatory anyway.
Gino, my roommate, was pacing around the house.
Next to me, Jason who was acting as the coxswain for the team — meaning that he was smaller than any of us -, was shaking his left leg rapidly. He was stressing me out.
For the last sixteen months, we had been living in a different reality, where only the “Disease” mattered.
From the day it appeared, everything had changed.
Nobody cared about stupid reality-tv shows, politics, or social media anymore. The only topic worth discussing was the Disease: men in their early twenties were inexplicably dying. Hundreds of thousands of them.
This new plague was spreading in the whole world but the U.S. was suffering from one of the biggest hits. Although “spreading” may not have been the adequate word. We had tried quarantine but it was totally inefficient.
It was not an epidemy.
It was not transmissible.
It was something else entirely.
Without any warning, men entering their adulthood would start feeling fevers, experiencing nose bleeds, and it would be all over in less than four weeks. No explanation. Just death.
Of course, the international community was looking for some cures, for some answers at the very least, but every hope had seemed to lead to another dead-end.
We knew that there were secret clinical’s trials. Why some men were affected and why other were not? Why only young adult men? Many countries started to go after each other, blaming their neighbour for implementing the Disease in some sort of a sick or chemical warfare.
Paradoxically, as men in their prime were dying from the Disease, more and more of them, of us, were sent to the battlegrounds in meaningless wars.
Many turned to God, viewed this sickness as Divine’s wrath. “This is what you get for watching so much porn, America!” A conservative reporter had infamously said.
Most of us were simply stunned, struggling to adjust to this new normal.
How do you commit to a woman knowing that you might die in the following months? How can you project yourself into any potential career path when you might get sick at any given moment? How the fuck are you supposed to keep moving forward in a world like that?
Despite all the confusion, there had been some progress made in the last few weeks.
A scientific consensus had surfaced, the Disease was definitely linked, at least in some ways, to our testosterone and sperms’ level.
A Swiss laboratory had recently claimed that they had designed a test with a 100% effectiveness rate to tell if you were among the 25 to 35% of men from the targeted age group (early twenties) subject to the occurrence of the lethal Disease.
The President was talking every couple of days to update the Nation, but that night, it was supposed to be the big one.
There were leaks in the press about a “miracle Cure”, a new shocking treatment protocol.
“I think they did find something. For real, this time. Something they’ve been working on for months and they are finally ready to release it.” Simon said.
He was a senior year, one of the most respected members of the rowing team. Simon was coming from a rich family and he was the son of a high ranked official in the State government, – he was destined to follow the same path -, his intel was often correct.
“What do you know?” I asked.
“My father could not say much but, apparently, the State is requisitioning gymnasiums and other big spaces to administrate a vaccine or some sort of medicine, starting tomorrow.”
“Maybe they just want to gather all of us in one place and shoot us. This way, we don’t have to wait until we develop that shit and we can just end it there. No need to deal with us anymore!” Franck said with a smirk.
If you need to know one thing about Franck Karter is that he was a prodigious asshole.
Captain of the rowing team and self-proclaimed leader of our fraternity, he pretty much thought that he was better than everybody else. Probably to appear cool to us, he pretended like he did not give a fuck about the Disease.
Most of the guys in the team were blindly following anything he would say as if he were a God or something. Honestly, he was a just a prick.
The dude did not even shed a tear when two of our teammates died a couple months prior.
“Man up.” He had said when I had broken down at the funerals.
Man-up? Really!?
I had just turned 20 and my generation was living in the constant fear of developing the Disease.
My mother was terrified for my older brother Jack and I, to the point where it had totally screwed our relationship.
She was on our shoulders 24/7, and was forcing us to see a doctor three times a week. I could not stand seeing the look on her face anytime the slightest thing in my body started to go wrong. She was freaking out over a sneeze. As a result, I was barely talking to her anymore.
This was definitely not how I had pictured my college years to go.
When I was in highschool, I thought it would be all about hanging with my mates and snatching pussies… Not taking my freaking temperature ten times a day!
That ridiculous sickness appeared right at the beginning of my freshman year which was, as a consequence, entirely cancelled.
More than a year later, people were only starting to go back to college (when they were not enrolling in the army), with no other choice but to accept that potentially, up to a third of the guys in their class might not live long enough to graduate.
Finally, it was time for the press conference. Gino stopped walking around and sat on the sofa right next to me.
Because the guys had been stressing out, there was a thick odour of manly sweat in the air. We were all shirtless, and like most often, only wearing broad shorts in the house. That did not help to cover the musky smell…
To be fair, the house was stinking so much that we had all gotten used to it, only our guests would point it out from time to time.
Boys being boys, you know.
Only Franck pretended like he was not interested in what was going to happen. He probably thought he was naturally immune or some shit… He still watched the press conference.
Statistically though, on the nine guys living in the frat house, three of us would be dead before we could reach the age of 25.
I got cold sweats anytime I would think about that.
The President appeared on the screen. There was more agitation in the press-room than usual. I was definitely anxious to know more.
President Harrison was a good-looking man in his late forties but the crisis which had started at the very beginning of his mandate made him grow older quite fast. We could count more white hair in his trimmed beard every week passing by.
Still, he maintained a reassuring figure and was quite fit. Just like us, the President had been a rower in his youth, he even competed in the Olympics once. For that reason, we were pretty much all keen to trust him.
He was not alone this time, a man with a long grey beard and crazy curly hair in a lab coat was standing at his side. Frankly, that guy looked like a mad scientist coming straight from a cartoon.
“American People, I come here tonight bearing some great news!” The President smiled largely.
I had not seen him smile in months. He was always coming live with some more terrible news to share.
He opened his arms to his audience and to the camera and he proclaimed:
“I am both relieved and proud to announce that the U.S. Government is the first country in the world to have discovered an effective Cure to the Disease.”
I got shivers all over my body.
Gino put his hand on my right thigh and squeezed it. Tyrone and Andre, two black twins in their junior years, stood up from the couch in excitement.
“Thanks to the tremendous efforts of the Health Department, and of Doctor Seeder and his team with me today, we are finally in capacity to fight this fucking Disease!”
A President had just said “fucking” on live television. Things were wild!
In the press conference, journalists, who were normally there to ask the tough questions, cheered. Next to me, Gino started crying. He had lost his brother four months prior. That had been rough.
The other guys were hissing and clapping.
The President waited a while for the people around him (and probably the entire United States) to calm down.
Then, he spoke again.
“Doctor Seeder will explain this breakthrough better than I ever could but I will try my best to share this exciting information.”
Harrison took a more serious tone.
“As you may know, extensive research with our partners in Europe and clinical trials have shown that some of the men born in the early 2000’s have developed what some might call a corrupted gene. Once they reach the final stage of their puberty, this defect can manifest and lead to the development of various malfunctions in vital organs, which, so far, has inevitably been lethal for the patients.”
He marked a pause and looked at the doctor next to him for approval.
That was nothing new though, we had been hearing this for months.
“Recently, we have found out that the main issue was situated in the semen produced by those individuals. Their level of testosterone would be slightly lower compared to healthy subjects. Although their sperm appears as normal, the lack of a certain protein, the protein B19, causes the body to malfunction.”
The room was dead silent at this point.
Even Franck was listening to every word. See, his careless attitude, it was just an act.
“The research is now undeniable. For the men with a normal type of sperm, the risk of developing the Disease is zero. However, for the men bearing this defect, the risk of contracting the disease is between 80% and 100% depending on how frequently they ejaculate.”
This was becoming weird, hearing the President talking about ejaculation.
Sure, we all pretty knew already that the origin of the “malfunction” was situated in our balls, but it was still awkward to hear a politician talking about this on television.
The twins sat back down, unsure of what they were supposed to feel.
The awkwardness only got worse when Doctor Seeder went into a way more detailed explanation with graphs – and actual pictures and videos (!) – to show us how sperm was supposed to work.
“The Disease is not transmissible in any way, this is something you are either born with, or you are not. To put it simply: we have identified two types of male groups, let’s call them group A and group B.” The doctor explained.
“For group A, the semen developed during puberty works normally. However, for group B, the semen seems to develop normally until we detect the lack of the B19 protein at the end of the individual’s puberty process. Thanks to accurate testing, we have been able to keep precise tabs of the patients’ profiles. This defect, as you know, only concerns men. The youngest case we have identified was 18 years old, while the oldest case was 25. We do think that anyone above the age of 26 is totally safe.”
That meant that both my brother Jack and I were in the at-risk group. I thought about my mom, probably holding her heart while watching the television.
This was only the beginning of the scientific demonstration which lasted for more than a full hour and, to be frank, did not make much sense to me.
The doctor and his team showed samples of sperm from one healthy and one “corrupted” patient in little glass containers. It looked exactly the same as they explained that only a lab testing could allow the identification of the “at-risk individuals” bearing the defect.
For whatever scientific point they were trying to prove, they even showed an animation of a man ejaculating.
Gino seemed unable to speak or to let go of my thigh. He was looking at the screen, mesmerized.
After the thorough description of the origin and cause of the Disease, it was time to present the Cure and the new mandatory health policies. I was definitely not ready for what was about to come.
The President spoke again, thanking Doctor Seeder for his “enlightening explanations”.
If he said so…
“My fellow Americans, we have already lost too many lives, too many young men in their prime. It is now time to act strongly and swiftly! We have not only learned more about the Disease; we have discovered a way to effectively cure it.”
There was a palpable feeling of relief around me.
Although, we had all been reacting in our own ways to the recent events, deep down, we were terrified to be the next one to start experiencing symptoms.
“Starting tomorrow, in every highschool and every college, in every company and administration of the country, and in thousands of dedicated centres deployed all across the United States, we will collect and test the semen of every single man aged between 18 to 25. Young Americans, you will be asked to ejaculate in a cup and you will know within the day if you are an Alpha or a Beta. I mean, if you are part of the A “Healthy” Group or of the B “Corrupted” Group.”
Gino and I looked at each other.
I could sense that my face was fully red now.
“The data we have collected so far shows that at least a third of the 18 to 25 age group will be part of the Beta Group. I must insist, those who will be classified as Beta shall feel absolutely no shame, nor fear. Thanks to the Protocol we have established, the Beta males subject to the apparition of the Disease will have great chances to prevent its outbreak. We have run the clinical tests and we are currently at an 87.8% rate effectiveness, the success essentially depending on the commitment of the patient to follow the Protocol.”
The President marked another long pause so the information could sink in.
Was it real? Would this madness finally stop?
“I do understand that what I am going to explain next might be disturbing or challenging for some of you.”
Another pause. Gino was literally hurting my thigh at this point.
“My fellow Americans, it has been scientifically proven that semen from the “healthy” men, from the Alpha group, can help the Betas to prevent the development of the Disease by compensating for the lack of the B19 protein. After many months of research and clinical trials, it has been confirmed that the best, and to this day, only, Cure is fully organic.”
The president took a deep breath. My brain had understood where he was going with this, but at the same time, I did not want to hear it.
“Male’s sperm, that’s our solution!” He spoke loud and clear.
My heart dropped in my chest.
“Consequently, we will not only test our young heroes tomorrow, but we will also ask every single man above the age of 26, and every male between the age of 18 and 25 who would have proven to be healthy, to provide samples of their semen so we can gather the highest amount of this fully natural and miracle Cure. We are all in this together and I know that I can count to every single one of you to end this plague, once for all!”
The President was ending his speech.
I felt dizzy.
“In the meantime, we strongly urge every young man between the age of 18 and 25 not to ejaculate before the results of their medical exams. If you turn out to be a Beta, this could be a matter of life or death, the Protocol shows its best results when the subject does not waste any of his own sperm. To try and maintain your testosterone’s level before injecting the Cure, you need to keep as much sperm as possible within your balls, hum, I mean, your testicles.”
A red banner was now showing on the bottom of the screen:
“Males between 18 and 25 warned NOT to ejaculate before their medical exam tomorrow.”
It was 8:30 pm when President Harrison ended his speech by the words which would soon become famous:
“God Bless Semen, and God Bless America.”
A journalist took over the broadcast.
“We have been hearing rumours about a miracle Cure, President Harrison just confirmed they were all true! The medicine is as simple and natural as this can get: good old jizz! President Harrison and Doctor Seeder have announced that every man between the age of 18 and 25 will be massively tested starting tomorrow, but the adult male population as a whole will be asked to provide semen samples, so the sperm from the Alphas can be actively used to cure the Beta males! This revolutionary Cure might save millions of lives! Scenes of immense joy and relief are being filmed right now in New-York City.”
My heart was racing but I was drained, just as if I had run a marathon.
Gino was nodding his head no, mumbling “bullshit”.
I would have to be tested the next day? Did that mean I would have to cum in front of a doctor? What if I were a Beta? Even if I were an Alpha, I would have to give my sperm away, for the “Cure”? Dad would have to donate his sperm too?
All the guys started talking at the same time. Everyone was excited.
As usual, Franck was speaking the loudest, shouting stuff about what it meant being an Alpha and how only “weak guys” had died “from this shit” so far.
I needed some time for myself. I could barely hear what the other guys were saying.
Was I relieved or was I even more scared than before? I mean, there was a Cure. It was all that mattered, right? None of us was going to die… This nightmare was over!
My mom called again. I picked up this time. She was relentless.
“Oh my God, Daniel, see, I told you! They would find a Cure! God is merciful! I just called Jack, see, it is all going to be ok! Your dad and I are so relieved.”
“Mom, I don’t know, that’s crazy. And that doctor Seeder, he looked insane.”
“Dan, this is the miracle we all have been praying for.”
Maybe her, I had definitely not been praying.
“And now, I will pray for both of my boys to be tested as Alphas. But promise me, Daniel, even if you are a Beta… Oh Gosh… Promise me you will follow every guideline and Protocol!”
“Of course, mom…”
“You did hear the entire speech of President Harrison, right? You paid attention, you understood everything you have to do?”
“Yeah, mom, I’m not 12 anymore.” I replied, jaded.
“So, you won’t, hum… you won’t ejaculate tonight. Right?”
This was awkward. I had carefully avoided the subject of masturbation with my parents until that day, and I would have preferred to keep it that way for the rest of my life.
“Oh mom… please stop!” I spoke.
“This could kill you!” She yelled over the phone.
“I know, I heard. I won’t! I won’t do anything!”
Gino came back into our room at that moment.
I quickly hung up after saying to my mom that I loved her and that I would be safe.
Gino sat down on his bed. We were both stunned.
“Well, I guess that for the first time in years, nobody will beat his monkey in that damn house tonight.” Gino ended up saying.
I laughed. He always knew how to lighten the mood.
Normally, I would always jerk off before going to sleep, especially if I were stressed. I knew Gino was doing the same thing under the covers. Sometimes we would catch each other masturbating under our respective sheets and we would laugh it off.
I definitely was feeling anxious that night but I did not want to take any risk so I resisted any temptation to touch myself.
At 1 am, I could not fall asleep and I went to grab something in the fridge.
Franck was there. At first, I thought that he was naked but then I realized that he was wearing a pair of beige boxer briefs that I had mistaken for his skin in the dark.
“Ain’t you sleeping?” I asked, stupidly.
“Visibly, I’m not… I’ve got a big case of blue balls insomnia.”
He turned around; he was fully stiffed underneath his briefs. I could swear his cockhead was poking out from the waistband.
Franck was fitter, broader, taller, and had a bigger dick than me. It was clearly showing in this horny state. Stains of precum were quite visible too.
I knew all about the size of his cock anyway because he was constantly showing off, either in the locker rooms or in the house. I had never met someone so proud of his junks, and to quote him, the “XXL size of his huge balls”.
Franck was also sharing some of his sex-tapes online, the guy had no shame.
From the excerpts that I had seen, he loved to fuck girls in the ass.
“Damn, you do need to cum…” I remarked, trying to remain casual.
“Well, yeah. Vanessa sent me nudes tonight, just to tempt me! The bitch!”
Vanessa was his girlfriend, I mean, one of them. We were living in a generation where there were more women than men available and Franck was taking full advantage of that fact.
Sadly, I could not say the same about me… I was just too awkward with girls.
“She wants to kill you then? That’s not really the sign of a healthy relationship.” I said, semi-jokingly.
“Nah, she just knows I’m an Alpha. No risk for me… I could jerk off if I really wanted to.”
He grabbed his cock to make his point, making it throb even more. I hated when he acted like that.
“You’re not even a little worried?”
“Man, I’d kill myself if I was a Beta. I would never accept to ingest another dude’s spunk and I definitely need to cum or I’d become insane.” He pointed again to his hard cock. “But no, I’m not worried.”
I swallowed my saliva, the way he had talked about “ingesting spunk” felt very wrong.
“Good for you, I guess…” I mumbled.
“Ahah. I’m not that confident about you though. Good luck, buddy.” He said, slapping my ass while he was passing me by.
What a prick.
I only thought about what I should have said to him when I was back in my bed. If he was so sure of himself, why did he not release the pressure and stroke his cock? Well, he may have actually done it…
I did not know whether Franck had followed the official instructions not to masturbate, but I definitely respected them.
I barely had any sleep that night but, at least, I did not cum either.
I woke up with a good old morning wood and from what I could tell, Gino was in the same state. The (huge) tent in his underwear was quite telling.
I thought I had been reasonably blessed with my nearly seven inches hard cock but it seemed like every guy from our frat were packing horse-sized cocks. Maybe it was a rower thing. Even Jason who was a good eight inches smaller than us had an abnormally long dick for his size.
Anyway, when we got down for a quick breakfast, the guys looked exhausted.
It had been a long night for all of us and we had received an official message from the university and the authorities to wake-up early.
All classes had been cancelled and the male students had to present themselves to a giant meeting under penalty of being kicked out from the university (or worse).
We were gathered in the main gymnasium, about 160 of us. Some guys did not show up but the majority of the male students were there. As usual, I sat next to Gino.
Twelve small cubicles separated by blue curtains had been installed in the gym, as well as a main stage and a large TV screen which was facing the bleachers. There were also three long tables where bottles, medical materials, and various supplies had been laid.
We all sat in the bleachers while our dean, two P.E. teachers including our rowing Coach, as well as a team of roughly ten doctors in lab coats retold us the same story about the Disease and the Cure.
As if any of us could have missed it the night before!
There was a major difference with the President’s press conference though.
In addition to the graphs and explicit pictures and videos we had already seen, the language used by the professionals was more explicit, and some additional videos were even cruder.
It looked like any mean was good to pass the message, and since we were all adults there, they did not bother sugar-coating it.
An instructional video was presented to us. It was supposed to teach us how we should properly masturbate and ejaculate in the cup at our disposal in the cabins for the “testing”.
A guy who must have been an actual pornstar considering the gigantic size of his dick (I mean, that thing was more than 10 inches, and it was also super thick!) was shown sitting on a stool in a cubicle. The dude was stark naked, masturbating while reading a porn magazine.
The scene was quite obscene, the dude was moaning like crazy, caressing his nipples, and there were multiple close-ups of his cum flying off from his piss-slit and being deposited in the cup when he came.
What the actual fuck?
I looked around me, most of us were in shock that the university (and the State!) would show us something so lewd and salacious.
“No need to produce as much as semen to have comprehensive results but we can only advise you to get used not to waste any cum!” The “pornstar” said in the video, looking straight at the camera filming him.
After ejaculating (a ton!), the same actor gave an extensive speech.
“We all have been 18 once! We know how it feels! The need to jerk off, to fuck, the need to cum!”
Another scene of a guy roughly our age stroking his dick to Internet porn was briefly shown.
“But you have to control these urges! This is a matter of life or death.”
The image of the guy jacking off was replaced with videos of young men sick in an hospital.
“No matter what the results show today, you are all men! But some of you will need a hand from healthier men and, all of you will have to fulfil your duties for the future of the nation! Ok, champs?” The pornstar winked at us and the video ended.
We would be called out in alphabetic order to go in one of the cubicles to masturbate, cum and then, to hand our sample to one of the laboratory workers. As my name was Zander, I would be called among the very last ones.
Before the first group was called though, something crazy happened.
The dean and our rowing Coach moved forward on the stage.
“Now, Coach Jordan here has accepted to give us a live presentation.” The dean explained, visibly uneasy.
“Hello, boys.” Coach Jordan spoke to the crowd.
He was quite the character on the campus, always walking around in tiny nylon shorts and his tank-top two sizes too small for his frame. He was all hairy nipples out and never left his pink whistle from his mouth.
Coach Jordan was in his forties and was showing signs of a dad body but he was still very much in shape. Like most professional rowers, his biceps and thighs were insane.
Put him on a boat and Coach Jordan could definitely give you a ride for your money!
“We are all adults here and soon; we will all have to learn to be more… hum… to be more comfortable with the Cure, with… hum… with sperm. This constitutes the official instructions from both the State and federal governments. So, hum… Coach Jordan, do you wish to proceed?”
“Of course, dean, thank you for this introduction. Gentlemen, it was decided that to avoid any mistake and show this process is completely natural and nothing to be ashamed of, you would be given a live presentation of the medical exam you are about to take. I volunteered.”
I was starting to understand where this was going, but once again, I could not believe it.
I looked at Gino, he seemed as confused as I was. Franck was behind us, giggling with some of his mates, Simon, and the twins Tyrone and Andre.
“You will enter in one of the cubicles right there and be presented with two magazines. You may select one according to your preferences. You have the choice between a magazine featuring women, sometimes alone, sometimes having intercourses with men or other women, and a magazine only featuring men.”
Franck Karter shouted:
“Well, we all know what magazine Zander and Russo are going to choose!”
There were some hissings behind us.
“Shut up, asshole!” I yelled at Karter.
Gino was red as a tomato. I was so over the gay jokes and the bullshit.
Everybody knew that I was straight but Franck could not help himself.
“Silence, boys!” Coach Jordan barked. “As I said, you will be presented two magazines to help you get in the mood.”
The Coach showed us the two magazines in his hand.
One was featuring a girl spreading her legs, entirely naked except for a ridiculously small thong. The other one was even more scandalous. It was featuring a huge dick front and centre, dripping cum and two guys eagerly licking it.
How insane was that a teacher was showing us this porn cover?!
“I will personally choose this one.”
The coach put the gay magazine aside to focus on the straight one. Frankly, I was surprised, there had been many rumours about the Coach being caught at some sleazy glory-hole places downtown.
“Then, you simply have to lower your pants and sit on the stool of your cubicle.”
Was he really going to explain to us how we were supposed to jerk-off?
Yeap… He was.
He lowered his blue nylon shorts revealing his big hairy thighs and tiny white boxer briefs. The dean was still standing beside him, ready to bury himself in the grounds of his own college.
The Coach sat on the stool.
“Do not forget to keep the cup near you to be able to catch your sample whenever you are ready.”
He showed a small plastic and translucent cup and started caressing his crotch over his boxers with his left hand.
Two guys whispered next to me:
“He’s not going to really do it, no?”
“It’s Coach Jordan, he loves to show off. He will do it for sure!”
He could not, I thought. A teacher could not masturbate in front of the students.
I understood that I would have to adjust to a brand-new reality when Coach Jordan effectively lowered his boxer briefs and revealed his semi-hard dick to the entire crowd.
Some people gasped.
“Don’t make this face, guys, we’re all men here, we’re all beating our meat. When you’re ready, you proceed with the masturbation, with the help of the magazine, if you need it.”
But Coach Jordan clearly did not need any help! He was only looking at us. At times, I felt like he was only looking specifically at me while jerking off his fat dick! It was hairy, veiny, uncut and… really big.
I felt myself sweating.
“Now, to make sure you produce as much sperm as possible, you can really jerk off, make yourself feel good. Feel free to rub your balls, get that juice maturing real good.”
“Yes Coach! Show us how it’s done!” Franck Karter shouted, hysterical.
Everybody laughed. The Coach smiled; He apparently could not care less.
He was now moaning while caressing his balls and still looking straight at us, or at me?! His dick was fully hard. He used two hands to pump it. Yes, it was that big!
I could not stop watching.
“See, this is precum, guys. For the Betas among you, I would strongly advise to lick it off, just like this.”
The Coach scooped some of his precum sliding down his shaft with two fingers and brought them to his mouth. He sucked them deep.
“No big deal.” He said confidently.
I was shook but this was not over. Far from it, actually.
“When you feel the sperm coming… Hmmm…”
Coach Jordan continued, licking his lips.
“You just take the cup and…. Hmmmm… make sure to aim your cockhead right inside of it…”
The Coach kept on jerking off with his right hand but he brought the cup closer to his dick with his left hand.
He aimed his large cock towards it, moaned even louder and eventually, he started exploding in the little container.
“Hmmm… See, I’m… Hmmm… I’m blowing my creamy loads right in it… See guys, Hmmmm… filling it with my manly cum.”
The plastic cup was half filled with jizz now.
“Then, you close the cup. To avoid any waste, you can lick some of the cum remaining on your hands.”
Again, he followed his words with action as he licked off cum straight from his right hand as well as some residue left dripping on the side of the cup.
IN-SA-NE.
“This is also common courtesy for the men using the cubicle after you, they don’t need to sit in you spunk, well, unless they are betas of course. Then, it may be helpful.” He chuckled.
I had followed my fair amount of government programs and sex education classes but this was beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
“Finally, you can put your clothes back on and bring back the sample to the laboratory workers with your I.D. Once you’re done, you go back to sit in the bleachers until we can give you the results.”
Foolishly, I thought things could not get any crazier or lewder than this.
But as you can probably guess, I was dead wrong.
[MORE TO CUM]
What did you think of this introduction chapter, guys? The craziness is only starting. Things are about to get wild and I hope you are thirsty!