I couldn’t stop looking at her.

She was a brilliantly white china doll of a woman with ridiculously long, curly, red hair. Her eyes were a shade of blue I had only read about in old stories - blue with a hint of purple, maybe. She had light freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, and she was tiny, even smaller than me.

I almost didn’t notice her companion, a tall, dark black man of middling height with a furrowed brow.

Blinking hard, I reset. Normal business mode. No emotion.

“You must be Maurice Evans. Welcome. I’m Rebecca Mitchell.”

I extended my hand in greeting and Maurice took it with a lightning flash of a half-smile. Penny Wilson followed, her hand as pale next to mine as mine had been in her husband’s.

“Julian is still prepping. He’ll be along shortly,” I said. “We have some work in front of us, so let’s get to it, shall we?”

We moved into the conference room. The floors were old oak with an oil finish. There were no plastics anywhere in the room or even in the building.

“You’ve both abided by the no petrochemical clause, I presume?” I asked as we seated ourselves.

“Yes, of course,” Maurice said. “No plastic at all. Neither of us has any implants.”

I nodded, glancing at Penny.

“Nothing,” she blurted, gesturing vaguely at her petite body. She was wearing linen cargo pants and a t-shirt, the same as her husband.

I nodded, ticking a box on my screen.

Way back in 1677, Antonie van Leeuwenhoek invented a kind of microscope. You know what he couldn’t wait to do with it? 

He looked at his own jizz. 

Van Leeuwenhoek was the first person to see sperm cells in semen. And virtually ever since then, the number of sperm cells that people could see (commonly known as ‘sperm count’) has been declining.

Scientists didn’t keep good records of sperm counts until the 1920s, but by the end of the twentieth century, biologists knew that declining sperm count in men was a real problem. The field of fertility medicine was born.

By the middle of the twenty-first century, it was uncommon for couples to conceive without medical intervention. By 2090, 90% of men worldwide were functionally infertile.

Now, almost in the middle of the twenty-second century, only half of one percent of men can impregnate a woman naturally.

“You probably remember some of these pics from the promotional material,” I said, gesturing to the walls where images of women and their children smiled out at us. The walls cycled through hundreds of our success stories from the past several years.

“Yes, very impressive,” Maurice said, glancing around.

“We mentioned on the application that Lily and Michelle Stout recommended you to us,” Penny said.

I nodded.

“They were quite happy. I can’t imagine two simultaneous pregnancies in the same house, but they made it through.”

They both laughed.

“Which brings us back to the administrative work. For the record, please, can you tell me why you are here? The camera is behind me. You can just talk to me if you like.”

“Ah,” Penny started. “We’re here….”

She paused and glanced at her husband.

He swallowed.

“We’re here so your husband can give us a baby,” he said.

“And how will he do that?”

Penny glanced down and closed her eyes.

“He’s going to have sex with Penny,” he said, not quite managing his previous volume.

I nodded.

“Ms. Wilson?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking. “Yes, sex resulting in pregnancy, we hope.”

“Good. Your financial forms are in order. No marriage license?”

“No,” they said in unison.

I nodded. Marriage was an outdated custom, not much practiced any more. Julian and I were old-fashioned that way.

“Again, for the record, should both of you, regardless of future marital or cohabitative bonds, die leaving a child born as a result of today’s endeavor, Julian and I will have the first chance at adoption of such a child. Do you agree?”

“Yes, we agree,” Maurice said.

“Yes. You don’t have any children yourself?” Penny asked.

“No,” I answered, again ticking boxes.

It was perhaps ironic that a woman married to one of the last fertile men in the world was herself infertile. But we inserted a clause in every contract that could make it possible for us to adopt one of Julian’s offspring. Given the statistics, it was bound to happen someday.

“Do you have questions about today’s agenda?”

They didn’t.

“In a few moments, we’ll go upstairs where you, Penny, will shower and prepare. Maurice, you’re free to help yourself to the bar if you like, within reason, of course. I’ll be observing with you the entire time.”

He glanced away.

“Is that mandatory?”

“While observation is not mandatory, it is encouraged. You are not required to be in the actual room, but observation via monitor reduces our liability and thus your cost.”

Neither of them said anything.

“I assume that is satisfactory?”

“Yes, fine,” he said.

“You already approved the list of fees,” I said. “Questions?”

“How long will this take?” Maurice asked.

Julian and I had both been 20 years old when we started this business. At 33, we had lots of experience. We’d been through all the emotions, had all the arguments. Now, it was just a job. We didn’t need the money. We did it because there was nothing else to do, really.

So, when I got a man like Maurice, who despite having already committed himself legally, really didn’t want to be here, and especially didn’t want his gorgeous wife to be here, well, playing with him was one of the few joys I could take from the job. His anxiety was intoxicating.

“There is no time limit, sir. Julian is a professional. The better he does his job, the more likely that Penny will conceive and that follow-up sessions will not be required.”

“The better he does his job?” he asked.

“Ensuring pregnancy is not only a matter of injecting sperm into a partner. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds or thousands of hormones involved. The more receptive Penny is, the more likely she is to conceive.”

“Receptive?”

I looked at Penny and held her gaze.

“The more she enjoys herself, the better.”

The girl blushed from her neck to her hairline.

“But there’s nothing…kinky, right? No mind games or crap?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“He won’t try to…seduce her away?”

“Baby,” Penny said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

His insecurity nourished my soul.

“Penny will go home with you. I can promise you that. But understand that the deeper the connection between Penny and Julian, the more likely it is that we’ll be successful.”

He glared daggers at me, but Penny leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

I heard a door close and rose.

“And here, I believe, is Julian.”

My husband walked into the room, a towel around his shoulders, a cotton tank top drenched with sweat, and exercise pants low on his hips.

“Hi there,” he said, leaning down to kiss my cheek. He glanced around the room, stopping for a beat when he saw Penny. He reached a hand to Maurice.

“Not gonna lie. I always try to miss this part. Legal stuff bores me to tears,” he said as they shook hands.

“Ma’am,” he said, shaking the redhead’s hand briefly and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

I didn’t look, but I knew he was getting hard already. She was a doll and redheads were even more rare than sexually potent men.

“Unless there are any more questions, if I could get your authorizations here,” I said, holding a pad out. They each touched their thumbs to it.

“Fine. Penny, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show where you can get ready.”

“I’ll meet you upstairs,” Julian said.

The population crash of the past century meant the government could provide us with an entire building in a sparsely populated area of the city. The ground floor we rented out as office space, the second floor was reception and our office space. Third floor was the gym and informal work space. The fourth floor held the ladies’ preparation room, the procedure room, and the observation areas, and the fifth and sixth floor were our personal apartment.

We had installed discreet cameras throughout the building. Intelligent software would track Penny throughout the building, recording events for both her protection and ours. Her image was constantly fed through to the monitors in the observation areas.

“Would you like to help Penny?” I asked Maurice.

He shrugged, looking away.

“Look,” I said, taking his arm and turning him away from Penny. “She’s as nervous as you are, probably more. Take her into the preparation room at least. The more stress she feels, the more cortisol and other stress hormones are in her system, the lower our odds of success. Sit with her, hold her, kiss her, tell her whatever she needs to hear right now.”

“Okay,” he said. “It’s just….”

I tried to make my smile more supportive than predatory.

“Julian won’t come in until you leave. Take all the time you need.”

He huffed.

“Thanks.”

With that, he turned and put an arm around the girl’s waist. She leaned into him and they went through the door.

I pulled up the feed on my pad, watched her hold him, running a hand over his head for a few moments until they parted. She disrobed and showered, using the shampoo and soap we provided. The oils encouraged beneficial hormone cascades we wanted, calming the nerves while exciting the libido.

He watched her shower, leaning against the wall. I didn’t have a clear view of him, but when he reached down to adjust himself, I knew that he was getting excited. He went to her with a towel as she turned off the water, drying her hair and kissing her. I heard her whispering, as she groped him, they laughed finally and she sat, crossing her leg and folding her hands in her lap.

Maurice took a comb and some clips from her bag. He dried her hair and combed it smooth, then braided it for her so that it hung in one smooth tail down her back. The braid at her neck was as thick as my wrist and it reached almost to her waist.

Before he left, Maurice grasped Penny gently around her throat as she sat and leaned to kiss her upside down. His hand slid down to cup her small breast under the towel, then he turned and walked out, saying nothing more.

I slid the pad into a pocket and folded my hands behind my back.

“This way,” I said as he came out and led him to the observation room. It was a comfortable room with brown leather sofas and club chairs, a modestly stocked bar, pure water, teakettle, and calming herbal blends.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, bringing up the feed on the wall monitor. It gave the appearance that we were looking through the wall into the preparation room, but it was an illusion. That room was actually at the other end of the building. I turned the volume on low and made myself comfortable. I worked on my pad as he watched Penny rise from the table where he had braided her hair and don a large fluffy robe and slippers.

Julian’s voice came over the speaker.

“Penny?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.”

Julian came around the corner, dressed in his own robe. His was a chocolate brown that set off his skin tone and made his pretty eyes pop. He had showered as well, and his hair stood out in a tousled mess.

God, he was sexy.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

“Hi.”

“Are you all done in here?”

“Sure.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, a little. Excited too.”

A blush crept up her face again.

“Excited to be a mom, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “Did you see all the photos on your way up? We’ve had a lot of success stories.”

She nodded.

Julian reached out a hand, and she took it.

“How do you feel about starting with a massage?”

“Okay.”

They made their way to the procedure room where there was a couch, several chairs, a queen sized bed, a massage table, a tray of snacks and plenty of water.

“Help yourself,” he said, waving a hand at the refreshments while he went to the table. “We infuse our own oils here. There’s a great herb garden on the roof. Becs and the chef make the oils and the incense up there.”

“You want water?” She asked pouring for herself. They both sipped and finally turned back to the table.

“Climb up here and lie face-down,” Julian said.

She did, untying the robe but leaving it on. Julian slid it off her shoulders and oiled his hands. He started with her shoulders and neck, massaging gently, caressing her skin more than working her muscles.

I watched Maurice unobtrusively, gauging his reaction. He was frowning, especially when Penny began letting out little moans.

“How’s that feel?”

“Lovely,” she said.

He slid her robe from each arm, bunching it at her waist.

He slowly caressed each arm, then her entire back, down her sides, and loosened the robe from her waist.

“Are your feet ticklish?”

“Yes,” she giggled.

“I’ll be careful,” he said, touching her cheek and sliding his hand over her head and down her back. Maurice huffed.

Julian picked up one foot and massaged oil into it, sliding his fingers between her toes, pressing into the soles of her feet, and squeezing up into her exposed calves. When he moved to the other side, she whimpered.

He began sliding his hands up her legs under the robe, massaging the backs of her legs and knees. She surprised all of us when she reached back and grabbed the robe, dropping it onto the floor beside her head.

“Nice,” Julian said, glancing up at me through the camera and flashing a smile. Of course, to Maurice it would look like Julian was smiling at him in triumph.

Julian worked the white ass in front of him with careful vigor, squeezing and caressing as she moaned.

“God, that’s amazing,” she said, finally.

“Ready to turn?”

She was.

Julian took a moment to observe the woman as she settled.

He raised his eyebrows and looked up at her finally.

“I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, but you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

She covered her face briefly and mumbled something. Julian laughed and rested a hand on her belly, reaching for the oil. We could all see his cock tenting his robe.

He started with her hands, massaging the palms and rubbing each finger, eventually working his way up her arms to her face, then down her body, spending less time on the gentle slopes and tips of her breasts than he had on her hands. By the time he reached her feet again, she was fairly vibrating with arousal.

Julian took both her hands and helped her sit up.

“Feeling good?”

She nodded.

“May I kiss you?”

She nodded again, glancing down.

Julian put a hand on the side of her head and leaned in. She met him, leaning up into the kiss. He slid a hand around the small of her back and pulled her to him as she spread her legs.

“God, yes,” she panted, dragging the robe from his shoulders and ripping at the knot.

He was still pumped from his workout earlier and she pulled both hands over his chest, feeling the square muscles there and down over his ripped abs.

Julian slipped out of the robe and pressed the underside of his cock against her slit.

“There you are, sweetheart. Look at it.”

She did and hummed in appreciation.

“Tell me what you want.”

Her eyes went wide, and she ground against him.

I heard her whisper, but couldn’t make out the words.

Julian shook his head.

“Louder, precious. Tell me what you want.”

She moaned in frustration.

“A baby. Give me a baby! Fuck me and make me pregnant.”

“There you go,” he said, grinning at her and kissing her again.

She ground against him harder, trying to absorb him, but not having the right angle.

Julian began grinding his hips but wouldn’t enter her yet. He wanted her wound up tight before that happened.

“Tell me Penny,” he said. “How easy is it for you to come?”

She shrugged, annoyed by the question.

“The science shows that orgasms preceding penetrative sex aid in the likelihood of pregnancy,” I said to Maurice with a polite smile.

He glared at me.

“I read the material, thank you.”

Julian had picked Penny up from the table and carried her to the bed. He laid her there and crawled up beside her. They began kissing again, their hands roaming over each other. He held the back of her head with one hand and with the other began massaging her pussy.

It didn’t take long for her to come. She gasped into his mouth as she did, one hand holding his cock, the other squeezing his biceps.

“There you go, sweet. There you go,” he whispered, kissing down her neck. He let her recover for all of fifteen seconds before he was nibbling on her breasts and caressing her pussy at the same time.

Oral sex wasn’t necessary for pregnancy, obviously, but Julian wasn’t about to let one of the last redheaded pussies out of his sight without giving it a taste. He slid down the bed, one petite breast in each hand, and fastened himself to her pussy, sucking and licking as if his life depended on it.

She moaned and then screamed, arching off the bed, fists clenched, every muscle taught and vibrating.

When she eventually collapsed, Julian gently kissed his way back up her body. Their lips found each other again, and she cried out as he socketed into her.

“Oh! Oh my god…that’s so perfect. Why are you so perfect? Oh, my god….”

I watched a tear slide down Maurice’s dark cheek and sighed as a shiver ran up my back. It’s the little things.

Julian began moving, and she raised her knees around his rib cage. They moaned together for long moments before she came again, and then they both cried out as he finished, pounding her fiercely and groaning as he shot his rare, life-creating fluid inside her.

Penny held him tightly, her entire body vibrating as he finished. Jules tried to pull away, but she refused to let go, holding his shoulders and shuddering, crying out over and over.

Was she crying? Sobbing? It wasn’t uncommon in that room, but I couldn’t tell for certain.

Julian remained where he was, taking most of his weight on one arm and brushing strands of escaped hair from her face.

“Don’t get up yet,” I finally heard her say.

“Okay, sweet. Wild horses couldn’t drag me off,” he whispered back.

They began kissing again, and we soon heard them moaning into each other’s mouths.

Christ, he was fucking her again. Randy bastard.

“Maurice, I’ll need your authorization if you want them to continue. You remember the price chart for successive sessions, I trust?”

His face was wet with tears, but his dick was hard, too. I held out the pad, and he pressed his thumb into it.

They rolled so that she was on top, her head thrown back, breasts pushed into my husband’s face as she ground her hips against him.

Her cries became rhythmic and animalistic as they smashed against each other. Red marks shone vividly on her chest and neck where he had bitten her. When she opened her eyes, they were bright but unfocused as she slammed herself repeatedly on Julian’s cock.

Suddenly, Jules pushed the redhead back, levering himself up from the bed as she wrapped her legs around his waist. They sat in the middle of the bed, connected intimately, grinding against each other. She and her husband both had tears rolling down their faces. My husband had his face buried in her breasts, as he manipulated her up and down, slamming her onto his cock.

“Oh…god…fuck…me…maur…ice…he’s…fucking…me…oh…baby…oh…god….”

She went on like that, head lolling back, until finally the climax stole her words and both she and my husband descended into incoherency.

They collapsed onto the bed afterwards, not moving.

I sighed in sexual frustration, standing and heading to the refreshment table. It wasn’t like me to ease the spouse’s suffering, but I spoke to Maurice.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Sandwich?”

It took a full thirty seconds for him to tear his eyes away from the screen. When he did, I could tell he hadn’t processed my question.

“Maurice? Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head silently and wiped his cheeks. Then he stood and came to the table. He blew his nose in a napkin and tossed it, then filled a glass with water.

He looked at me without speaking.

I just shook my head.

He shrugged.

“How do you do this?”

I smiled.

“It’s a job. We’re both very good at our jobs.”

He leaned down and retched into the trash can.

I heard murmured voices from the screen and turned.

Penny was on her hands and knees. Julian stood behind her, prepared to slot his erection into her once again. Ever the consummate professional, he had paused and was looking straight into the camera.

“Oh Maurice, I’ll need your authorization again.”

“Motherfucker! Are you joking?”

He strode up beside me, sobbing, and looked into the screen to see his wife looking back at Julian, urging him on.

I held the pad, and he stabbed at it with his thumb.

Jules had a sixth sense about these things. Hearing nothing from me, he smiled and entered once again.

There was no tenderness this time. He held her hips and slammed into her repeatedly, grunting with the effort. Penny hung her head down and grunted with each insertion, crying out eventually and throwing her head back.

As her head came back, the braid flipped like a whip, landing on her back with a dull slap. A manic light came into my husband’s eye. He grabbed the end of the braid and wrapped it around his hand. He balled it into a fist and pulled tight, drawing a cry from Penny and lifting her away from the bed.

She waved her hands, grimacing in pain, and adjusted her posture, dropping her chin and trying to pull her hair from Julian’s grip, fighting against him.

With a huge thrust of his hips and steady pressure back, he lifted the girl completely off the bed. She hung there, suspended by her braid and my husband’s cock, and shrieked.

Maurice gasped at the violence.

Julian turned slightly toward the camera, growled, and crashed his free hand down onto the girl’s ass. She screamed and came wildly, vibrating on my husband’s cock as he spasmed into her.

Her own shudders fed the orgasm, which seemed to roll over her again and again, her abs flexing and swelling under her skin. My husband’s biceps countered that flexion pulling against her hair, causing the girl’s neck to stand out in chords as she pulled and screamed and quivered.

I simply stood with my mouth open, gazing dumbly at the spectacle. I had never seen anything like it, had never heard of anything like it, had certainly never experienced anything like it.

“Mother fucker,” I whispered.

Penny finally collapsed, seeming to lose consciousness, and Julian caught her around the stomach, probably as much in self-defense as for her safety. His cock would have been sheared off had she slid down.

He lowered her to the bed, whispering and covering her with a light blanket. He refilled their water glasses and brought them over. 

Maurice was furious, of course.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, pointing at the screen with a shaking hand.

I nodded and sighed.

“He smacked her!”

“Yes, he did. Fucked the hell right out of her, too.”

He opened and closed his mouth, saying nothing.

“Look, if you wanted something sterile and emotionless, you could have gone to the government. You wanted this. You wanted something real. Well, welcome to reality, friend.”

I glanced at the screen. Penny was stirring now, sipping water and leaning against Julian.

He helped her up and into her robe, and I muted the sound.

“Maurice, if all goes well, by this time next month, you’ll be preparing for the birth of your child. If not, you’ll remember that we offer substantial discounts on treatments for each successive month that treatment is required.”

“You really think I’ll bring her back here?”

I glanced at the screen where Penny was smiling at Julian, no doubt thanking him for his help before kissing him goodbye.

Maurice watched with me as they parted. He saw the look in her eye same as me.

“Yeah, you’ll bring her back. If not next month, then next year when she wants another.”

“Mother fucker,” he said, turning and walking out. 

I watched him on the screen as he made his way through the corridors.

“Oh my god, Becs. Did you see all of that?” Julian asked, walking up behind me and grasping me around the waist.

“You had better wipe that stupid-ass grin off your face before you talk to me,” I said.

“How do you know I’m grinning?” he asked.

I elbowed him in the gut, pleased at the exhalation of pain.

“That’s better,” I said.

He kissed my hair.

“How’d he take it?”

“Cried. Vomited.”

“I bet. You okay?”

“That was…something.”

“Yeah. Good payday though.”

“What’s it matter? Not like we need more money.”

He shrugged.

“I know.”

“After that third time, the system automatically bumped our ten o’clock tomorrow.”

“I forgot about that. We get to sleep in, then.”

I reached back and felt my hair.

“Should I grow it out? How long do you think it would take?”

“Baby, she’s tiny. I don’t know if I could do that with a real woman like you.”

I drove my other elbow back into his gut.

“Ooof. Okay, I’m willing to try, baby. I love you.”

We watched as Penny emerged from the shower and into Maurice’s arms.

They cried together. I left the sound off.

I tried to take joy in the little things.