Fill 'er Up!

A few days ago I got into a conversation with a friend about his wife's pregnancy, and about how they had to go thru all these fertility tests and such before finding out what the problem was. I told him that I get this certain visual image when it comes to the man having to fill the cup. He told me that I was correct in my visual and we all got a big chuckle out of it.

Of course I am going to share it with you! =)


Ok, by now, I hope most of you have gotten the feel for my easily irritated mannerisms, and if you haven't you need to read some more. The first issue would be that I would have to be donating any of my fishes for this subject matter at all. Hell, I am pretty healthy, and don't see how it could be my fishies that are the problem. Shit.. You women are the ones with with all those check ups and internal issues. I know it sucks for you, but hey why do I have to be letting everyone and their dog see what I got in the way provisional protein towards my half of the baby?

Well after a bit of a heated argument with the lady in my life I would succumb to the pressures put on me and finally agree to do this for her (Guys never win when it comes to this shit, because they will hold the punanny hostage and by then you'll be using your hand alot more than the one time it woulda taken). So in my visual I'd be going to the doctor and hearing all this weird crap that I do not want to listen to. Then at some point during my head shaking , and ignoring the conversation totally, I'd be asked to go into The Room to do the nasty with myself. "Oh Joy!" I would exclaim with much over exaggerated enthusiasm.

Now the room itself would be what one would expect to find. There would be the table to lie down on and the dirty magazines would be in some drawer out of view and that would be it. You'd find a disposable tube of KY jelly laying upon the Table with the white butcher paper almost like a mint that the housekeeper had left in your hotel room the day before. You would be shown where to put the specimen after the deed was done and shown the little metal cabinet that is built into the wall, as that's where you will pe putting it. Then the female nurse leaves (yeah it always has to be a female doesn't it?).


Ok... This is where you'd think the job gets done, you do it and voila! Bing, Bang, Boom, one deposit made.. No receipt given. That type of shit. My mind just doesn't work this way folks. First off I'd look for the dirty magazines and be thinking "Fuck man, Guys have been touching these mags with their hands and touching their peter! So in fact I am touching their peters by association!" Yeah, then any chance of a hard one is getting a bit slimmer. So maybe I use a napkin and try to work through the pages so I don't get any cooties... Then I will be worried I find some pages stuck together from a guy who shot a little too far at first then Id be like looking at his left over jizz page and realize that some dude had came to that picture before me. Damn, still gonna find it difficult for that boner I need.

What's that noise? I listen really closely and realize there are a bunch of people on the other side of the wall. "Oh Fucking Great! I have to be quiet too." The nthe thoughts of someone walking in on me in the middle of a tug starts filling my mind. Oh man, that would be so embarrassing...

Hmmm.... Let us try some sexy thoughts, and I would start thinking about my woman and how this is for her, and how it is too bad she is going to miss out on this load of hot cum. "Yeah, I am feeling a little worked up now I think this will work." So I'd try using the old noggin' to get myself a good wank, but the visuals start entering the doors of my perverse mind. What if this load is puny? That would really suck man, I want the chick that sees this to go "Hell yeah! This boy is good for the giving!" But, you know how it goes man sometimes it just a squirt and sometimes it is a LOAD! Then I start thinking about the cup itself, and how I have to make sure that it all reaches final destination. "Damn this is a lot more work than I had originally thought." I say to myself as the last and worst visual of all hits me smack dab in the frontal lobe. I get this picture of me getting off it makes it into the cup, and I am feeling triumphant. W00t! Yeah Baby, I got some O' that mojo still a going! Not! As I look into the cup I see my sperm starting to jump out and back down into the Jiz, like a massive amount of fish fighting for food in a great lake. Oh the horror of it all, I feel as if I am watching the old version of The Fly where the fly that has the human head is stuck in the spider's web and is screaming in that shrill voice "Heeeeelp Me!, Heeeeeelp Me!" but this just isn't one little voice, it is billions all screaming for me to put them back they do not want to go to the ladies in the white coats.


Well, that's my view on it and now that I have come to this realization I am not sure I could really do it unless I had an assistant.. I mean shit seems like they could get that regulated right?

Ma'am what is your profession again? "Well sir, my job title is Ejaculatory Control Specialist" They could have women in there for just these kinds of situations, and of course they must be of the highest caliber. Now that's what I call getting my money's worth =)

LMAO, maybe I am just a tad bit over analytical when it comes to life. Who knows?