Chapter 1

I glanced down at Alison's amply feminine but not-too-large bum in her jeans a couple of times as she led the way into her living room. Hell, I wanted to fuck that. It wasn't part of the bargain though, and it would be disprectful of me to ask. She was nothing if not a nice woman, and I would have hated to offend or humiliate her, but I really would have loved to take her up it.

Yes, I liked her in more ways than one, but I reminded myself that that was not why I was here. I had a job to do. It was an agreement, a kind of contract — nothing more. I couldn't complain at this opportunity.

"I'm still not quite sure whether we're doing the right thing by not telling Chrissie," said Alison. I went a little tense inwardly but was determined not to show it. She might have been right, but I didn't care.

"Chrissie definitely wouldn't have agreed to it, and you would have spoiled a good friendship by even asking," I said.

We'd been over this ground before, about Alison and my wife, but of course it was a big issue, and one which I brushed aside with reckess abandon. I wanted this opportunity so much it hurt.

"If she ever finds out it'll ruin it for sure," Alison said. "Goodbye to my best friend and, while we're at, you have plenty to lose too."

"True," I said. "I doubt whether it's something Chrissie could ever forgive. And that will be goodbye to my kids. Also, if your husband finds out he will kill me."

"Well, it's hubby's fault for firing blanks, isn't it?" I was a little perturbed by the hard edge in her voice. "He knew it long ago but didn't tell me."

Strictly speaking, her hubby Mick was not firing 'blanks' as such: it was just that his sperm was 'not great' in layman's terms, and chances of Alison conceiving by him were 'slim but not impossible' in the doctor's terms. So they kept trying, and supposedly hoping, whilst Alison put into motion her own plan: me.

"Well, I can take it you're not turning back on this," I said, sounding very cool and mature. It was vital to make Alison feel I knew what I was getting into and that I could handle it in a level-headed kind of way.

"Yes, that's how you can take it," said Alison. "Just tell me again though, Mark, why would you do this for me?"

"Because I'm helping you," I began earnestly. "Because I'm your friend, and your husband's friend. Okay, I'll be honest, also because I like you ... I mean ... I find you attractive enough to do it, if that doesn't sound too crude."

"No, it doesn't sound too crude," she said with a little laugh. "We've gotto be able to function after all."

"Uh, function, yeah." I returned the little laugh, welcoming the humour.

"Okay. Well, just so long as you don't go liking me too much, huh? But we've been over this haven't we? You're doing me a service and that's that. God, it always sounds so crude." She rolled her eyes and laughed.

"We have indeed, and don't worry, I won't go liking you too much. Yes, I understand it's only a service I'm giving you. You know how happy I am with my kids and Chrissie. I don't want to jeopordise anything."

"I know. I'm sorry for piling on the interrogation."

"That's alright," I replied, understandingly. Her 'little-girlie' side was predominating for the moment. "It's a big decision you've made. It's a hell of a decision. I respect you for it and I want it all to work out."

"Yep," she agreed. "It's a big decision. But I've asked you because I know you and I trust you. If I'd have wanted any old sperm that could belong to a mass murderer, psycho or retard then I'd have gone to a sperm bank."