Now isn’t the time to experiment.

You ultimately decided that the Quick Donor Finder was something you would need to try out, but the middle of the work day wasn’t the time to do so. Punching out for lunch, you quickly made your way to your car and set a course for the treatment office. You even decided to call ahead, having programmed the number into your phone the previous day.

The receptionist who answered the phone was the same woman you met yesterday, and after giving you her name, she let you know that while Luke was unavailable, Marcus was ready for you, and that he, also, produced a very large load. You suspected that most of the men employed as official donors had above-average semen production levels, but you thanked her for the information anyway. Your mouth was watering, and you rushed the rest of the way there.

“Hello!” She chirped, once you came in the doors, practically running. She scanned your card quickly, and two minutes later, a tall man you presumed to be Marcus appeared from a doorway, beckoning you down the hall into another private room for your treatment. Marcus’s room was almost identical to Luke’s, although it had a bed instead of a couch, and a few of the decorations were different. His professional manner was also comparable, though his penis, you noticed, wasn’t quite as long. At your instruction, he quickly and efficiently jerked himself to orgasm, and you managed to keep your hands to yourself as he squirted a fresh, thirst-quenching load of semen into your waiting mouth. At least, you kept your hands to yourself until you noticed a single drop of cum clinging to the end of his cock. It would be wasteful to leave it there, so you collected it with a finger, and swallowed everything at once.

Again, you were instantly rewarded with peace of mind and a general sense of contentedness, and Marcus offered you a towelette to clean up. You thanked him for his help, and rushed back out the way you came, passing by a nervous-looking young woman in the waiting room who avoided making eye contact, which was quite alright with you.

Getting back to the office, you had five minutes to spare before you needed to clock in, which was enough time to snag a granola bar and an iced coffee from the vending machine on your way back to your desk. That, combined with your cum snack courtesy of Marcus, was all that would sustain you through the latter half of your shift, and you weren’t looking forward to the complaints your stomach was sure to start filing in a couple hours.

The rest of the workday dragged on without anything of particular note. Quitting time rolled around, and as you clocked out, you were invited to visit a bar along with some of your other coworkers. It was something of an office tradition on the first and last day of the workweek, but you didn’t usually go. That said, a drink and some friendly company didn’t sound too bad after the stress of the past couple days, and you didn’t have any other pressing appointments that evening, so you thought carefully before giving your answer.