You get two celebrities the next week.

You continue with your workdays, spending more time at home with Joy and Kira, working remotely.

You continue donating sperm a few times per day to the lab, who work quickly to extract as many different possible portions likely to impregnate a patient to confer a temporary cure to them.

You consider that you are going to father an absurd number of kids, although thankfully you have been assured complete anonymity. This is a treatment you are proving, and thousands of your sperm portions were being sent out, that would be a hell of a child support bill.

You are have agreed to pass along the cure to two women from a confidential list per week, and they push for at least one per day, maybe two. The need is that pressing.

You agree on some conditions, and if needed you agree to take care of more if needed.

As not to disrupt your part in the process, they come to you, on days that all the women you choose can all make it. You first idea is to do it over two days, although sometimes more days are needed. It is more time in the lab than you intended.

Of all the choices on the list, a few are reported to be beyond stage one, and you start with four of them which you are attracted to, Mandy Moore, Beyoncé Knowles, Katy Perry and Zendaya.

Reading their case files, you see Mandy Moore, a singer turned actress who Disney asked the President directly to help, is just barely into stage 2. The hunger for her is now passing the point of being possible to satisfy, where she might need to see a donor six times per day or more, just to keep her symptoms under control.

This would seem to be impacting her work, and Disney doesn’t want to have to drop a popular actress who has a wholesome reputation.

Beyoncé on the other hand is one of the worlds most prominent entertainers, and is also active in politics.

She is beautiful, talented, a culturally iconic person, and she is into stage 3. She might be 3a, she is at a point where she needs regular donations, perhaps fifteen per day, but past the point of keeping her from advancing in stage.

She is a week or two from **** at this advancing stage, as patients have tended to only last days when they get to stage four.

She isn’t able to work, and has had limited time with her kids due to the state this has her in almost all of the time. Out of her mind in sexual hunger, calming immediately after a treatment, but this calm lasting mere minutes.

It seems that Jay Z and Beyoncé have a team of donors on staff just for her needs, and her delivery has been like something from an orgy. Lots of anal, and often multiple doses of cum one after another.

Katy Perry is another long time favorite of yours, currently engaged to Orlando Bloom, and as beautiful as they come. Her stage is also advancing past the point of medical control, she needs help, and you would not mind fucking her. She has a porn star body, pretty much every man wants to fuck her, and she will fly in and do it on your schedule.

Zendaya isn’t quite an A lister, but she is close, and she appears to be nearing stage four. She needs help as much as anyone on the list. Another Disney star, this one going into films, specifically Spider Man movies you enjoyed, she seems nice. You need to help her.

After you submit your selections early one morning, you get a phone call later in the morning from Jay Z, thanking you for choosing his wife. He offers you anything you need, should this work.

He offers to move you out to them, which you explain you cannot do, having a daughter and a lab to run where you are.

“Fine, we will come to you John,” Jay Z replies in his recognizable tone. “If this works we will buy a place next to yours, in case more is needed.”

“It won’t be needed sir, mr.?” You ask, used to using another man’s last name.

“Call me Jay,” he replies.

“Ok, Jay,” you reply. “That shouldn’t be needed, this particular treatment is good for the duration of, well of the event. They have explained how it works right?”

“Yeah John, they have.” Jay Z replies. “You are some freak of nature who is immune, some mutant shit, and a woman carrying your child is immune as well right?”

“Something like that,” you reply. “It lasts a little while past full term pregnancy, we think. That hasn’t been tested.”

“Listen man, B is in bad shape here,” Jay Z replies. “I can’t have her die. I don’t give a fuck about tours and albums and that shit, that is all on fucking hold. I need her to get better.”

“If you can do that, we are moving in next door in case more treatment is needed,” he continues. “And you and yours won’t ever need for anything, ever. Your gonna have a fucking Lambo to drive to the office my man.”

You assure him that isn’t needed, and he lets you know they are flying in. Like getting on a private jet right then. “We are wheels up in ten minutes doc, we will be there in a few hours.”

They were scheduled for a flight the next day, but Jay Z and Beyoncé didn’t feel compelled to wait. They would get on a private plane now and see you tonight. He wasn’t fucking around.

“And man, don’t judge B on how she is right now, this thing is fucking with her head,” Jay Z tells you. “She is warm, and loving, and a devoted mother. Her kids miss their mother, I miss my woman man, we need her back.”

You say goodbye and hang up, realizing it is early for you, and two hours earlier for them. They aren’t wasting any time at all, good for him being this devoted to his wife’s health.

Mandy Moore wasn’t so complicated to deal with, her representative let you know that she would be on site when scheduled.

Katy Perry and Zendaya similarly accept the time frames requested, they will be on site as scheduled.

The laboratory was set up to accept the celebrities through a back entrance, keeping them off of the official logs. You get a text from Jay Z, and who would have thought that would have that number saved in your phone, they were on their way.

You were waiting for them in a comfortable back room on site with a big and comfortable bed, when you see Jay Z and Beyoncé.

She walks in cussing, sees you and with an angry look yelled at her husband, “this is the motherfucker we came all this way for?” She glares at you, “you the white boy with the magic fucking cock?”

“Yeah baby, he can help, let’s give this a chance.” Jay Z replied, “I will be outside, take all the time you need.”

“Ok, let’s get this done,” Beyoncé yells at you, taking off her clothing. She truly did have a beautiful body, you feel like a very lucky man.

Beyoncé stands before you, beautiful, naked and ready. “What are you waiting for motherfucker? Did I fly here for you to fuck me or perv over me? You can look all you want after I get that dick!”

You don’t enjoy her attitude however, so you walk over to her, “Get on the bed and bend over,” you say coldly, taking off your clothing, and moving behind her, admiring her beautiful ass. It was a thing to behold.

Beyoncé obliges, getting on all fours facing away from you, offering you her big brown ass.

Big and round, but seemingly devoid of fat. And she has wide hips to go with the big ass, you think about it for a moment, right now you are in a position millions of men would happily trade for.

You grab her ass and squeeze with both hands, admiring the softness of her skin, and the firmness she keeps in such a well rounded ass. Then you give it a smack, and watch it shake, and then another, and she moans in pleasure.

“Get on with it you bastard, give me that dick!” Beyoncé yells at you, “we didn’t come here for foreplay!”

You have waited long enough, you start to push your cock into Beyoncé, but you do it very slowly. Very slowly teasing her with it, slowly in, slowly out. You can feel her anxiety, her need for what you have to give.

You consider maintaining a slow pace just to tease her, to **** her and make her beg, but this is a woman with a family and children.

And you feel her fear as well, she knows she might die, and she has not been in her right mind much lately. Consumed by the later stage of the disease she is in. Your role here is to help, not to antagonize.

You put your hands on her wide hips and begin to fuck the beautiful black entertainer, realizing a fantasy you have had since you saw her work in music when she was first in Destiny’s Child.

You feel her body respond, and she begins to orgasm quickly, something found to be common to late stage patients.

She is still talking shit to you, but at this point you cannot make out what she is saying. She needs what you have to give, she needs it now, and you make no effort to slow your own orgasm, delivering it more quickly than normal.

You bury your cock deep inside of her, and she can easily take your full length, and you deliver a powerful cumshot deep inside of her.

Beyoncé responds by orgasming herself, but hard, she vocalizes like she did not before, wailing as you fuck her. She finally collapses beneath you, and you settle down lower to keep your cock in her as you finish.

You finally pull out and move beside the still moaning woman, and put them the messy tip of your cock in her mouth, with a little of yours and her cum on it. Her eyes go wide and she hungrily sucks your cock.

She sucks you off until you are limp, and then lies back, and let’s out a deep breath. “Jesus Christ, that was …that was something fucking different, what was your name?”

“John,” you reply, pleased to see her hard exterior break, and to see her soften before you. You can feel the anxiety and fear leave her, and the haze of constant sexual excitement wane. “You can call me John, Mrs. Knowles.”

She starts to cry, but you feel that it is just relief, she feels better than she has in a while. You comfort her, holding her in a warm embrace, and kissing her on the forehead.

“What the fuck was that John?” She asks in a gentle voice, a beautiful melodious voice. “I have never felt this way in my entire life, how did you do this to me?”

“It is complicated Mrs. Knowles,” you reply.

“Fuck that last name thing, we are on a first name basis now John,” Beyoncé replies. “With your dick game you can call me anything you want, but start with Beyoncé, or B.”

She smiles, “keep giving that to me and you can call me your bitch and I will answer to it,” she says softly.

You smile at her warmly, and nod yes. “Beyoncé…I think that best…”

“You however, you are going to get a fucking nickname,” she replies, “fuck I am going to write an entire album about you baby. Cock doctor, something like that…you can be in a music video, I will call you my white master if you want…but fuck this feels good.”

“But seriously, how do I feel so much better so quickly?” She asks, “I have had a lot of treatments, lately it has been just about all I could do…nor a lot of sleep, and eating cum all day long and it was never enough, now the fog cleared. Just like that?”

“I truly don’t know, we are still trying to figure it out,” you say, laying beside the beautiful singer, an object of your lust for quite a few years. “But you are going to be ok now, for a while at least. Something about me causes a temporary cure.”

Beyoncé begins to cry again, she can feel that what you are saying is true. Maybe she won’t be out of her mind horny, begging men to let her suck their cocks for what seems like every waking hour of her life.

Maybe she won’t have to suffer the indignity of letting men she barely knows fuck her in the ass several times per day. It had become too much for her, it had to end. Now it seemed that it had.

Beyoncé asks for another go, and sucks your soft cock until it becomes erect again. The visual before you, the beautiful black woman milking your soft cock was amazing, you probably won’t ever forget it

You are soon hard again, and you fuck Beyoncé again, this time much more romantically. She kisses you deeply as you fuck her, this is a really nice moment.

You get to feel her desire and passion, and this is a really enjoyable fuck for you. After another thirty minutes or so, you fill Beyoncé up again, and again she orgasms hard when your cum enters her.

She moans loudly and holds you tightly, rolling you over and finishing you again with her mouth, sucking your cock until you are soft again.

She whispers “Thank you so much John,” before drifting off to sleep.

You get dressed and open the door, telling Jay Z he can go and sit with her. “Let her rest,” you tell him as you walk over to his sleeping wife. “She should be a lot better, but she might need more treatment. We don’t fully know yet.

He can see a contented smile on her face, and that she is in a deep sleep. “How did this happen so fast doc? She has barely slept in weeks.”

“She is almost certainly cured, at least temporarily,” you reply, and you see Jay Z is emotional, fighting back tears. It has been so long for her since she rested. “I don’t know how long she will be asleep, but her mind cleared just before she went to sleep, she was smiling again.”

Jay Z pulls you into a powerful hug, “my man, my fucking man. We will be in town John, until we are sure, we aren’t fucking going anywhere,” he tells you. “If she needs more, I want you to do it, you gonna be one of those doctors that makes house calls.”

Jay Z steps back, and pulls out his phone, “what is your address, I am going to book a hotel nearby, an air B&B, something.”

You start to tell him that would not be proper and he doesn’t care, “doc, all your shit is paid off today ok? All of it, I don’t fucking care about the money if I have Beyoncé back, where is your place? Look bro, it is a hotel nearby or your guest bedroom, your call.”

You smile and text him your address, you see Jay Z sit by his beautiful wife, and you see he is crying now, overjoyed that she would live.

You go to clean up, and then you head home to check on Kira and Joy, leaving Jay Z and Beyoncé to themselves.

You had not planned on having anything like this happen, outside of a clinical relationship, but in some cases it wouldn’t be so bad.