At first, the questions on the form made me a little nervous. "Had you ever had sex with a man before?" and "Are you homosexual?" I really needed the money, and this Zyo-Sperm Cryolab seemed to be easy money. It was $25 bucks a shot for jacking off into a cup. Gee, I thought how rich I'd be if I counted all the times I did that for free. I knew that I had no diseases and I was clean in every way. I practiced safe sex. And, I knew they'd be testing me every month. So, I didn't think it was fair that they would reject me for the program merely because I liked sex with someone with a hairy chest and a hard cock. So, I lied. The Cryolab was a strange place. The secretary was a blond handsome lad named Barney who was tall and thin. The technician was a muscular guy with tatoos named Steve, and the doctor was a young sandy-haired man named Dr. Malin. I passed the written tests. I was smart enough, with a good background and good family history. Now, it was time for Dr. Malin to examine me. He asked me to strip. I hesitated. I nervously took off everything except my underwear and socks. "No, no, that won't do," the doctor said. "Take off everything. We have to measure you." "Measure me?" I gulped. "Yes," said the young doctor. "Measure everything. Everywhere." I took off my socks, then my underpants and he stared at my cock. I was afraid I would start getting hard in front of this hunky doctor and they would expel me from the program. "If it makes you uncomfortable to be like this, we'll start with measuring this," he said, grabbing my half-erect cock in his hand and a tape measure in the other. He held my semi-hardening cock in his big hand and brushed my blonde pubes from the top of my bush and stretched the tape measure over it. "Let's see, five and three-eighths inches flaccid." He wrote on a large chart, with my coding number, (easy to remember for me) # 69, on the top of the chart. He gently started pulling my dick. I almost pulled it away in shock. "Okay, let me see it hard," he said. "We have to record all your measurements." I sprang to attention, astonished. He smiled. He first grabbed underneath my balls and held them back as he stretched the tape measure along the side of my hard-on to the base of my balls. "Hmm, eight and three-quarters. Impressive. Is that all you can do for me today?" I blushed. He smiled. He slid the tape from my balls along the underside of my shaft to the tip of my bobber. "Seven and three-quarters. Nice. And now the top." Wow, I always measured from the top, you know, looking down on my dick from the bush to the tip, on the top. Now I know why guys say they're bigger, they must measure from the side, or underneath. It is all part of the penis, I guess. "Topside six-and-seven-eighths. OK, nice." As I stood there with my hard-on, he went on to measure everything else, my foot, my fingers, my chest, my waist. He didn't seem to mind my bobbing dick hitting his white lab overcoat as he measured some more. He took some blood, some urine and stuck a Q-tip swab in the tip of my oozing member to get some fluid from the tip of my cock. "Yes, you'll be a nice specimen for some family who can't have children," the doctor said. "They will pick you out of a book, but they won't know who you are. We'll have all your history, measurements and a few unidentifiable photographs of you." Then, the technician, Steve, came in with a camera and took close-up photographs of me naked. One buttocks shot, one eye, one arm, one leg. "Oh good, he's still hard, so I won't have to lube him up," Steve said. He held my cock up a little, pointing at the camera as he took one last picture. "Now, one last test." Steve handed me a plastic cup with a lid on it about the size of my toothbrush glass at home. "We have to test your semen," Steve said roughly. "Go into our bathroom and don't come back until you've filled it up." I was stunned. I suddenly wondered if they really wanted super-men here. I cum a lot, but not that much. Then, Steve smiled, and I realized he was kidding. "I think you'll meet our standards," he said. The bathroom had three stalls. Across from the stalls was a counter with two sinks and a wall-sized mirror that ran the length of the room. I almost hid in one of the stalls to masturbate, but I found the mirror was more helpful in arousing myself. I stood outside the middle stall and slowly unzipped my pants as I watched myself in the mirror. My pants were at me knees and my cock strained to get out of my tight white cotton briefs. I pulled out my cock and started pumping. A container of soapy gel was screwed to the counter. I reached for some warm water and covered my cock with the handful of slick soap. I imagined that my hands were Dr. Malin's as I stroked myself. In just a few minutes, I felt I was ready to shoot off. I reached for my cup on the counter and shot my white creamy wad into it. I didn't fill it up, but I covered the bottom of the cup pretty thoroughly. After getting my pants back on, I carried the cup out to Barney the secretary. He held it up and shook it around, the white cream splashing the sides. "Good job," Barney said, smiling. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" "No," I said, glad to get rid of the vial. "Pretty soon, you'll be an old hand at it," Barney said. Steve tested the sperm, said it was excellent, froze it in a tube and they paid me $25. Each time I gave a donation, I had to abstain from sex at least one or two days before, allowing me to donate at the most four times a week. I was doing anything with anybody, so it didn't seem like it would be a problem, and I could really rack up the bucks. The next time I came, I went into the bathroom and noticed that the first stall had another donor in it. I immediately grew hard, thinking that someone was playing in there. I took the next stall. "It ain't easy to fantasize in here, is it?" said a deep voice in the next stall. I looked down and could see his white tennis shoes and the jeans down next to them. I saw his naked thick hairy leg. "Right, but there's enough stuff to think about around here," I said, obliquely referring to the three masculine workers at the lab. "Sometimes, my mouth is so dry I can't work up enough spit to get a good boner," the neighboring donor said. "Well, there's some gel on the counter that works nicely," I said. "That's great, good idea," said the other guy. I was ready to peek out my stall to get a glimpse of this guy's dick, but he didn't move. Instead, he hesitated. "Umm, if you're going to get some for yourself anyway, could you get me some, too?" he asked, a bit nervously. I obliged, walked out naked with my half-hard-on, pouring a full handful in my palm and then coming back to my stall. I was surprised to find my neighbor crouching on his knees with his dick sticking up on my side of the stall. "Slap it right on there would you?" he asked. Once again, I obliged. I kept on rubbing him, and myself. Then, I felt a hand reach under and I moved sideways to offer my slippery cock to him. His dick was very long and smooth. My hands slid up and down his shaft. His strong muscular hand gripped my greased cock and lingered around my balls. Then, his fingers massaged my head and I could feel myself pulsating as his fingers probed my dick. His own cock swelled in my hands and I could feel spasms at the base of his cock. "Let's cum at the same time," he said. "Jerk me harder." I did as I felt like I was ready to burst. We both held our cups to our respective cocks and shot at the same time, milking each other with one hand and holding cups on our own cocks with the other. "Thanks man, this'll be the best deposit I've given," he said. "I'll wait a few minutes, and you go on out, so it won't look suspicious." I left my faceless partner and walked out, where Barney was sitting, smiling again. "This one was better, wasn't it?" Barney asked, as if he knew what was going on. I just smiled. Steve checked the sample in his large video microscope and said, "Boy oh boy, this is a good one. There's twice as many spermies in it and a 95 percent motility. Good job, Mickey." I blushed, grabbed the money and walked toward the door when I practically bowled over the guy coming out of the bathroom. He steadied his cup of cum and looked me in the eyes. I gasped. He was beautiful. My neighbor donor with the smooth big dick had a tanned dark body attached to it. He had green eyes and a slight stubble on his dimpled chin. "Hi, I'm number 94," he said to me, squeezing my hand with the same grip he had on my dick only moments ago. I looked at Barney and Steve, who were watching us closely. "Hi, I'm 69," I gulped. "Nice to see you, uh, face-to-face." As I high-tailed it out the door, I noticed that 94 made his next appointment the same time as mine. I knew that if we weren't careful we'd both be booted out on our tight little asses from the gents at the Cryolab. A few weeks of mutual masturbation continued until Barney handed me a slip of paper. It was an appointment for a consultation with cute Dr. Malin. I wanted to strip for him again. "Only a few select donors are asked to come to this," Barney said. "It is required that you make it if you are to remain in the program." I knew it! They caught us, I thought. They found out that 94 and 69 were helping each other fill their cups. My heart sank. I liked this part-time work, I paid for all my holiday shopping and now was working on a trip. I had always wanted to go to Borneo. I planned to travel around the world on cum. When I arrived the two days later for the appointment, the waiting room had four of the most handsome hunks I had seen in a long time. They looked like models. My j.o. buddy, number 94, was there too. Barney was talking and laughing lightheartedly with them all. I sat next to 94, figuring that I might as well get to know his name after we both get kicked out of here. Dr. Malin, in his white overcoat, came into the office. Barney walked over to the door, put a "CLOSED" sign on the door and locked the front office. I was curious. "Hello, gentlemen," the doctor said. "I've invited you here because you five are the donors in most demand here because of your obvious physical features." I scanned the group. A muscular Hawaiian wrestler guy, a long-haired piercing blue-eyed surfer dude, a stunning preppy business-suited Aryan type and my dark-haired #94. Yeah, a pretty hot group, I thought, but nothing in common at all. "Also, you five have the highest motility and sperm count, and we are going to conduct a series of tests to discover the best techniques for increasing such counts," Dr. Malin said. After 20 minutes of asking about diets, exercise and health, we got to know each other better. Barney looked on anxiously. "Now this is somewhat unusual, but I'm going to ask us all to step into the bathroom," the doctor ordered. We filed in and looked at each other as Barney brought with him a few vials. "I'm going to ask us all to provide one sample of semen while we observe each other to see if we can learn techniques of intensifying the orgasm and providing a larger quantity of sperm," the doctor said. "Us?" I gulped. "Yes, us," he said, taking his own vial. "Barney and I are also donors and we wish to see how we can increase our counts, too." We stood there and looked at each other for a moment when the Hawaiian grabbed his cup, leaned on the edge of the sink and whipped out his fat brown dick. I grew hard immediately, and watched the surfer boy pop out his long cock set around his almost white pubic hair. The preppy guy slipped off his pants, folded them and rubbed his tight blue underwear in front of us all. I noticed Dr. Malin's white overcoat propped like a pup tent as I realized that he was wearing nothing underneath. He unsheathed his raging hard-on, dropping his overcoat and exposing a hairy sexy body. Barney's lanky white form stood naked in front of the mirror. It was interesting to watch each other. The Hawaiian was rough with his dick, slapping it on the ceramic sink until it got red. He liked to push his hands on top of his dick, so that the underside slid on the cool sink. The surfer dude had his palms outstretched and rolled his cock in his hands like he was kneading clay. He groaned and swung his hips as he watched the rest of us. The preppy guy surprised us all by lubing up his left hand with soap and leaning against the wall and shoving three fingers in his ass as he pulled on his cock head with his right hand. He threw himself back against the wall quietly and caused the rest of us to intensify our squeezing. He was a dreamy stud with his jacket and tie on as his cock went from red to purple. My buddy #94 liked to hold his cock with both hands -- he had enough cock for two sets of hands, just like me -- and he'd screw his dick like a bottle. He closed his eyes as he listened to the rest of us moan. I prefer grabbing the soft underside of my penis, just below the head, with my right hand and pulling my sack of balls with my left just where it attaches to the base. I like to take long slow strokes. Barney was using one hand and frantically working himself up, hopping up and down as he played with himself. The doctor used his saliva to rub around his head and massage the sensitive spot just underneath the head. It was like a carnival of masturbators. What a sight! Each of us got off so much on watching each other and trying each other's unique style. It was the doctor who broke our individual ecstasies. He walked over and grabbed my dick. "I've been wanting to touch this again now for weeks," he said. I didn't resist. His expert hands provided the pressure in just the right spots, as the others joined the idea and began fondling each other. Pretty soon, we were worked up to a frenzy. Barney shot first, almost missing his cup. The doctor came, too, shouting, "Make sure you have the cup with your number on it." The Hawaiian's violent load exploded out in one gob, while the preppie's spewed out in even spurts. The surfer like to watch the long glistening strands of cum seep into his cup. My familiar #94 and I came at the same time. "So, how's it look Steve?" Dr. Malin said. "Real good, real good, I took a lot of notes, " said Steve, clicking on a light which showed him observing us from a two-way mirror in the front office. We all laughed. Steve had his pants down revealing a thick cock, and the mirror had a stain on the other side. "It appears to us we have been remiss in realizing that sometimes a guy can lend a hand in making the orgasm more powerful, and therefore increasing velocity and improving quality," the doctor said. "May I suggest we do this at least once a week." The doctor got no objection. So, for a couple of semesters now, I've been with the same group -- Steve now joins us, too -- and we have been providing some great samples. We've never done any more than jack-off together in these incredible circle jerk sessions. No unsafe sex on the premises either of course. But, since we realize that we are among the safest guys we know, all of us have been one-on-one at one time or other in the privacy of our own homes -- but practicing safe sex all the while. I never knew their names, except for the preppy business guy, John Rex, who really rocked my boat, but seemed a bit shy. His penis was almost an exact mold of mine, without the thick blue vein I have. As for me, well, I must admit that all of my private exploits with each guy was different in its own way, just like their different styles of jacking off. Yet, I now have a steady relationship with the hottest, horniest, most experimental one of them all. And next week, Dr. Malin is moving in with me.