The Father of Humanity - Cover

The Father of Humanity

Copyright© 2009 by Sterling

Chapter 3

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3 - The world mourns a fertility crisis: No baby has been conceived in twelve years. Then one average teenage boy is discovered who can father children. From slow and romantic beginnings, his sex life gradually takes off to try to meet the world demand.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Pregnancy   Slow  

Nymphs

So what kind of life did I lead up on the mountain in Colorado? My personal quarters were simple because my tastes were simple. What visitors there were went through a quarantine to reduce the chance I would catch an infection, but I didn't really want many visitors. I need plenty of alone time anyway. During the day, I enjoyed the wide world of possibilities on the internet, read books, and of course considered issues with my staff. I am something of a homebody, and I hardly ever traveled.

Sally, Winnie, and Julie each had her own apartment. Winnie and Julie had full-time nannies to take advantage of as much as they wanted. Sally had decided from the start she did not want to become pregnant, and was on the pill. I tried sleeping at night with each of them, but eventually I ended up with the calm, loving Sally. For my last sex of the day, I would thrust away inside her, a little more gently than with the others, and just as another orgasm erupted, see those adoring eyes. I fell asleep almost before the orgasm faded, but I would come to briefly as I felt her warm form nuzzle against me after her trip to the bathroom and the whirring gadget. I usually had sex with Sally first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I made dates with Winnie and Julie. For instance, Winnie might come over at 11 in the morning, and we would have sex once, then rest ten minutes and do it again. Julie came over at 3, and we had sex once, then after twenty minutes did it again.

The more I had sex with them, the more sex I wanted. They all realized their vital place in the world and would never refuse me. But I got them to admit they were not full participants sometimes, especially if I was proposing sex for the fourth time that day, and they agreed to stop pretending. So if she wasn't feeling particularly interested, Winnie might close the door and pull off her pants and panties, lie on the bed with her legs apart and massage her labia for a minute to get some lubrication going and signal me it was time. If my erection wasn't already up when I got to her room, it was by then. I would slide into her still-perfect body, thrust twenty times and come, deep and strong as ever. She would slide away and whirr away her dose of semen as per the routine. It might take three minutes from start to finish. Julie was the sort of woman who was just about always lubricated. Sometimes I would visit her unannounced, already erect and horny. She would drop her book, bend over, hitching up her skirt and pulling down her panties. I would mount her from the rear, thrust five times and come hard and deep, then slip out and leave, panting. Total time, twenty seconds. But I didn't really like doing that. Embryo counts started dropping, inexorably.

Since embryo counts depended on my mood, all of us from the beginning had been afraid of what my mood would require. I never had any taste for anal or oral sex, which was helpful because the semen was happier in a vagina before being collected than anywhere else. Fetishes would not cause any serious problem. But what if my tastes became outlandish or unethical? Rooms of solid gold? Rape? Sadism? Human sacrifice? But we would look at it one step at a time.

Winnie, Sally and Julie ran the gamut of female tendencies and were not chosen specifically for being the lover to a semen machine. We had run through all the girls in my small high school who I felt strongly attracted to in any event. Three women were not sufficient to satisfy my sexual appetites. Perhaps I should be getting young women chosen specifically for the purpose at hand. This had the air of prostitution about it, but my staff convinced me to think about it a little differently. It might be good if I indulged my sexual desires more, given my position in the world. My fertility might not just recover, it might surge. It was worth a shot.

The pros in consultation with my staff devised a program to find more mates for me. Women from all over the world were invited to submit applications. Along with being a lover of the famous John Smith and being a minor celebrity, the successful candidate would be able to designate five friends to get implanted embryos. She herself would have the chance to conceive a child in the old-fashioned manner.

It was a discrete advertisement, in selected places, but the news spread like wildfire. There were ten million initial applications, so we could afford to be quite selective. My staff limited the offer to Americans because I like people who share my language and culture and the security concerns were less. From the initial applications my staff studied the pictures and showed me hundreds of possible candidates they thought I might find attractive. They learned my preferences pretty quickly and applied them. At that point we had 40,000 candidates that I found gorgeous. There was plenty of other screening: personal health, family health history, decent intelligence, personality, security clearance, and an essay on why the candidate wanted the job.

All that winnowing left 1,000 candidates, who came in groups to the new facility at Sperm Central for further study and interviews. One of the most notable screening areas was sexual attitude and performance. These women had to have strong sexual appetites, and in particular to find the father of humanity attractive, as displayed to them in pictures and videos, some of them X-rated. But they also could not get jealous or frustrated if ignored for a while, because there would be no other men in their lives -- while in my service, they would be mine and mine alone. They had to be genuinely enthusiastic about sex just about any time, in any configuration, and on short notice. We found a mild drug they would take that simulated the middle of a normal menstrual cycle and kept them constantly lubricated to some extent. They had to be tolerant of creative and unusual practices. My staff at the Residence was all female, but down on the flatlands it included some men whose job was to have sex with aspiring young women under various conditions. It was perhaps one of the dream jobs of all time, though they too had to pass very careful screened to get that assignment. The women had to be very supportive of the entire enterprise of spreading my seed throughout the world as our only hope of survival. They became known as nymphs.

At that point the Residence had different areas. First there was my personal house. That had the inner sanctum, where almost no one but me went. It looked over a Japanese garden with a great view of mountains and plains beyond. It was small and had my private bed, armchair, computers, and books. Moving outward there was my bedroom where I slept with women (Sally most nights), and then farther out a room for private conferences, kitchenette, bath, and fair-sized living room. My personal house was connected to other buildings by transparent tube-like corridors. One was for the Staff, and another housed the apartments of Julie, Winnie and Sally. There were other parts of the Residence for maintenance, food services, and security, but they were largely invisible to me.

A new Sex building was constructed to accommodate the nymphs. The whole thing was architected playfully among the rocks. There were twisty little passages and stairs, nooks for trysts, spots under pine trees, towers with winding stairs and the topmost with a 360-degree view. There were many bedrooms of different sizes, including some for my private use. Each nymph had her own as well. The common living areas for the nymphs were part of that complex too. Everywhere were whirring devices and the pneumatic tubes to take vials of semen away.

Finally it was time. Five nymphs had just moved into the Sex building. Late one September afternoon, I entered the bedroom of Abigail. I was electrified as soon as I took one look at her, and felt faint. She was maybe 20, 5'6", with shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, a perfect nose, and the fairly thin figure I find most appealing. I had been planning to chat for a while, but she went over to me and put her arms around my waist, and after brief consideration said "I think you want sex" with a gentle smile. She really was quite correct.

So she led me to the bed. Her own clothes were constructed so she could get out of them almost instantly. Mine took just a little longer, even with her help. Since I didn't give her any specific direction, she just lay back on the bed with a smile and spread her legs. I started to mount this gorgeous creature, and caught myself for a moment, thinking of my initial encounter with Winnie and my current desire to put my semen in the right place. Abigail was clearly well-lubricated. I slid my penis into her and found her vagina to be hot, silky and perfect. I had been encouraged in this whole enterprise to indulge my fantasies a little more, and so I did. I pulled back once but then rammed myself in deep as I came powerfully, seconds after entering her.

I felt a little guilty, but as I collapsed on top of her she gave a delightful little laugh that convinced me she was entirely happy. After I lay there panting for maybe twenty seconds, I rolled off and let her get up to use the gentle little whirring device in the bathroom. But then it struck me. If these nymphs were all selected in this manner, neither very quick sex or anything else I wanted to do would offend them, and if Abigail was typical, they were indeed as HOT as we had hoped.

I leapt up and without even saying goodbye went into the hallway stark naked with a shiny half-erect penis. I opened the door to the next room. Tina was an entirely different but equally electrifying woman. She had short dark hair, brown twinkling eyes, and a slightly bigger hip section, which mesmerized me. She smiled and without a word I motioned for her to bend over the bed to show that hip section to good effect, which she did, without losing a trace of the smile, letting her skirt drop to the floor in the same motion. I mounted her from behind, touched her labia just enough to get oriented, pushed my penis in, to a different but equally perfect vagina, and came in the very same motion I entered her, feeling my orgasm reverberate and my semen pulsing out, making me stagger. She turned her head and smiled almost reverently, and once getting me sitting on the bed, went to the bathroom to use the whirring device. When she came back, I had slumped over on the bed reflecting on these magnificent bouts of sex. She straightened me out and started hugging me in the same deft motion. I started kissing her and making out. But after five minutes I looked at her with an urgent expression. I really could just stop making love to one woman and head for another if I wanted!

Off to the next room I went, still naked and with my erection rising. Cathy was already completely naked. She was 4'11" with her hair in a French braid, with barely any breasts or hips, also one of my favorite shape. She looked barely 16. These women could talk to each other, I found out later, and naked was at the moment the best way to receive me. Cathy was sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs apart. This was so alluring I motioned her to stay where she was and spread her legs a little wider. I stood by the bed and slid my penis into her just as she was, on the edge of the bed. Also perfect. This time I thrust for a whole two minutes. She came once, a moderate orgasm. At the end I surged forward, with my hands on her little butt to force us close. I pushed as deep as I could as I let the semen jet go.

Sliding out I ran directly to the next room. Diane had long blond hair and an absolutely adorable face, with average breasts, about on the high end of what I like. She was also naked. I motioned for her to lie on her back, then I lay on top of her and thrust for a good while, more feebly as the minutes past. I was exhausted. Having sex three times in a few minutes was not so unusual for me, but their overwhelming attractiveness was. Diane then nibbled my ear, and I could feel a gentle orgasm as another dose of semen pumped into her. I then collapsed on top of her. I must have been dead out. I don't know how many minutes later it was that I came to. My penis had slid out of her. She was looking a little the worse for wear, gasping in tiny breaths -- but still smiling. I had fallen asleep with my dead weight on top of her, and she had lain their patiently rather than nudging me off. This nymph training was going a little far, I thought as I instantly and apologetically moved off of her. She started breathing like she had just done a windsprint as she started to get up to use the whirring device, but I held her back down for another couple minutes until she fully got her breath. Then she went to the bathroom to harvest my semen. I was basically exhausted, but I had slept for a few minutes, so I had a little extra energy. I was out the door before she got back.

I spotted a man from my medical staff in the hallway, who asked if I was OK. That was questionable, but I nodded and was through the door of the fifth room. Zoe had shoulder-length light brown hair, fairly tall at 5'10", and just perfectly proportioned in every respect. I motioned for her to stand up. I lay on the bed and asked her to straddle me, which she promptly did, with her own gentle smile. I asked her to do what felt best, so she rode me up and down for all of 30 seconds before I could see her tremble, and feel her vagina squeeze me, and see her eyes glaze over. "Can you keep going?" I asked. She did, and about four minutes into it this time I felt myself coming as this gorgeous creature came to her second orgasm. I heaved upward, sending her up in the air six inches, still firmly hugging me with her vagina, as my semen shot up into her. I said "More", and as I drifted off to sleep she was still moving up and down slowly.

When I woke this time it was probably an hour or more later. She was sweetly curled up by my side with her head in the crook of my chest and upper arm. I felt exhausted, so after chatting for a few minutes I went back to sleep. At midnight I awoke to her overwhelmingly sexy presence. I lifted her leg and she scooched her female parts in close to me, just above my penis -- they taught these women applied geometry, too, I noticed. So we did it side-by-side, while I gazed at her lovely face and I slowly felt the warmness spread as I eased into a slow orgasm, but still giving her a couple good spurts of semen. The drugs helped my production.

I hugged her, dressed in the fresh clothes that had been left for me, kissed her goodbye, and went back to my private bedroom for the rest of the night. Francoise was kind of like my shrink, and in the morning I called her in to make sure the nymphs really didn't mind my frantic sex. She had already been doing her homework and assured me they were in fact delighted. They were delighted to see me happy and were excited by the virility of the only man with potent sperm, with the whole world riding not on my shoulders, but my balls. My staff later told me that my sperm from the previous day's adventures had been so potent they had run out of eggs, but estimated we were at 5% replenishment, far above when I was having sex with Winnie, Sally, and Julie. I also happily consented to a higher dose of the drug so that I would have the stamina for more frequent erections and orgasms to match my increased desire.

Each nymph had a private room. There were video cameras in each room and its private bath, which they knew I might be scanning at any time. I would sometimes look at them at night as they slept, and if a certain gestalt of position and bedclothes and mussed-up hair struck my fancy, I might head down to the nymph's room at a trot, my erection rising as I went, and slide into bed with her, slide into her, and spurt my semen in seconds later, or we might make love for an hour. For a few weeks there was one nymph who drove me wild with desire whenever I saw her pee, and she found me twice bounding through her door just a minute or two later. She decided to drink a lot and pee a lot.

The nymphs could always say no, no matter what was proposed. They could turn the cameras off, and they could declare themselves to be not very interested in sex. They could leave my service at any time. I sometimes treated these women in a way that many or most women would find degrading. But nymphs were all selected for high sexual interest, attraction to me, and flexibility. So they were rarely trying to avoid me. They were if anything vying for my attentions.

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