For several weeks a discreet classified advertisement had been appearing on the back pages of our community newspaper, listed under 'Sundry Local Services.' It was an invitation for local men to attend the new hospital's sperm donation unit, to give samples for use in artificial insemination. I had read articles in the national media that said donation levels had slumped by as much as 40% since new legislation had come in entitling recipients (and their children) to know the identity of the donor. I clipped out the advert and slipped it in my wallet.

Walking home from a football game a few weeks later, I realised that my route would be taking me past the street leading to the hospital. I decided to pay a visit. The huge entrance lobby was impressive, if slightly clinical in its all-white and shiny glass decor. I nervously approached the information desk.

"How may I help you today?" a pretty young Asian receptionist enquired.

Suddenly I was tongue-tied. "Er... I was, er... enquiring..." But where to start? How to discuss such an intimate matter with a total stranger. Then I remembered the ad I'd stuck in my wallet. I fished it out and furtively slid it across her desk. "I've called to find out about this service. I understand they need volunteers."

She gave a sweet smile of recognition and took a card from the drawer in her desk. She wrote a number on it and handed it to me. "Take the elevator in the corner to level 3, then walk along the corridor to the far end. You need Room E421. It's on the right."

Relieved that I hadn't needed to go into lurid details about the purpose of my visit, I thanked her and took the elevator as she had instructed. The antiseptic odour up on the third floor was pungent. Two or three patients lay in wheeled beds, awaiting transfer to wards, while most of the corridor's other occupants were either medicos or nurses. "Why do all nurses have such trim waists and cute bums?" I mused. But there wasn't time to reach a conclusion as I was now standing in front of E421. An anonymous pale green door, with a circular glass window inset at shoulder height. Mercifully, there was no sign announcing what went on inside. I cautiously entered.

The small waiting area was empty and from behind her glass screen the unit's receptionist looked up enquiringly. "Can I help?"

I decided that my newspaper clipping was a useful 'passport', so I slid it under her screen. "Er, it's about this. I'd like to volunteer."

"Certainly sir. Would you take a seat over there. I'll get a nurse to come out to see you."

"Thank you." Another tricky hurdle crossed. I took a seat and began perusing a car magazine. Within minutes a petite Afro Carib nurse had seated herself beside me. She crossed her slim legs and balanced a clip-board on one knee. "Hi, I'm Mandy. So you'd like to donate?"

"Er, yes please."

"Today?"

"Er, why not? Yes, today, if that's OK," I stammered.

"Sure. We're not terribly busy at the moment. I've just got to take a few details, if you don't mind? Address, next of kin, that sort of stuff."

"Fire away."

The box-ticking exercise took under 10 minutes, during which time I studiously studied the black stockings cladding Mandy's upper leg. I was already quite aroused. Not only by thoughts of her, but of how the all-important subject - namely my obligation to masturbate here in the hospital - would eventually be tackled. The lovely gamms were uncrossed with a sexy swish and she stood up. "Right, Keith, would you like to follow me?" The woman positively sashayed when she walked. Poetry in motion. "Perhaps they're trained to act sexy,"  I mused, "in order to get clients good and horny."

Down a short passage lined with official notices and posters, we arrived at a crisp all-white medical examination room with a couch along one wall. My eye was caught by a big stack of porn magazines on a low table beside the couch.

Mandy glanced at her clip-board. "Before you give your sample today, Keith, I have to carry out a routine STD examination. Are you happy with that?"

"Sure."

"Would you prefer to undress fully and wear a medical gown, or just drop your slacks so I can take a look?"

"A gown?"

She smiled mischievously. "It's just that some guys prefer to be in the buff when they're jerking off, if you see what I mean. It's less restricting in a gown."

"OK. I'll try the gown, if I may."

"Right, go behind the screen in the corner and park your things, while I fetch a gown." She looked me up and down. "I guess you'll be a large." As she headed for the door she called back: "It's your height I was referring to!"

I had just removed my clothes when a crisp white medical gown was passed to me through the curtain. "There are two strings to tie in a bow. When you're ready come and sit on the couch."

When I nervously emerged for my examination I found Mandy standing beside the couch, hands on hips, holding a stainless steel spatula in one hand.

I proudly showed her my fully erect manhood. She gently probed her spatula against my testes and then the underside of my penis. "My, we are excited, aren't we? When was the last time?"

I knew exactly what she meant, but played dumb. "Last time what, nurse?"

"When was the last time you had a wank?" Medical decorum had just flown out of the window.

"About a week ago."

She looked up and gave a wicked grin. "That's good."

"Why so?"

She sensuously ran her gloved hand along my shaft before answering. "Because that way you'll be donating a nice big load." I couldn't decide whether this young woman was openly flirting with me, or simply doing her job of making sure the client was fully aroused.

She got up off her knees and smoothed her skirt with her free hand. "Shortly I'll be leaving you here, Keith, just as soon as I have described this little gismo." She pulled a tube-shaped plastic receptacle from her pocket. It was calibrated, with a trumpet-shaped opening. "This is where we want you to deposit your ejaculate." Darn it, we were back to medico-jargon!

"I'm sorry, nurse - what does that mean exactly?"

"I'm saying that after I've left you and you're whacking off that gorgeous cock (by the way, be sure to take a look at all those naughty totties in the magazines on the table), I want you to shoot that lovely big load of warm creamy spunk into this flask for me.

" It sounded so much better in earthy English. She slowly pulled off her surgical gloves and gave my cock a last longing look. "Any questions?"

I hesitated. I so wanted to say: "Why not stay and do it for me, Mandy?" But instead what came out was: "No, I think you've covered everything admirably, Mandy. How long have I got?"

"Take as long as you like, Keith. And if you have any problems, just pull that red cord hanging from the ceiling over there. Good luck!"

After my cute little nurse had closed the door behind her, I wandered over to inspect the stash of porn magazines. It was only to be expected that the hospital authorities would do everything possible to get donors in the mood. Though fairly well-thumbed, the collection was nonetheless impressive. Spanish beach orgies were well represented, as were Scandinavian dungeon bondage sessions - usually involving hapless blonde maidens and black-haired lesbian jailors with riding crops. There was gay anal action aplenty and one (well stained) bukkake issue devoted to lithe young Japanese women willingly having their breasts drenched with semen. It was all highly arousing.

I oiled myself liberally with the hospital's medical lube and began to stroke. Though my eyes were on the magazines' pictures, my brain was firmly fixed on Mandy. Would I dare pull that red cord?

Than she was there, framed in the doorway. She coyly tilted her head on one side. "You rang sir?" she asked pertly, mimicking a butler from a 1930s black-and-white movie.

"Er... I don't quite know how to put this Mandy."

"You're rock hard but can't cum. Is that it?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"Common occurrence. Happens all the time. It's these unfamiliar surroundings. Like me to give you a hand?"

Again I played dumb. "Er... how do you mean, nurse?"

"Why wank you off of course, Keith. Get that lovely big load of spunk out of your ball sack and into my flask!" She sensuously stroked my testes and gave me a wicked grin.

"Is that permitted under hospital regulations?"

She moved across the room to lock the door and then began unbuttoning her blouse. "Highly irregular, but 'needs must' as the saying goes."

She was soon down to a lovely black lace-edged up-lift bra, from which her dark brown nipples were peeping invitingly. Deftly she climbed out of her hospital-issue pleated skirt, revealing a tiny pair of pink cotton panties, with her black stocking supported by suspenders. "Now come over here, darling, and let little Mandy slide her lips around that adorable cock of yours. I so love sucking cock! But be sure to let me know when you're gonna cum, won't you? Because it's all gotta go in Mandy's flask - not down Mandy's throat!"

Within 15 minutes the deed was done. I'd delivered and Mandy had collected, with 98% of my cum safely stowed in Mandy's flask. Though as a special treat, I saved 2% which the nurse eagerly gargled before swallowing it with a big grin.