Miss Trishs Breeding Club Pt 01

Miss Trish definitely stood out in her friend group. She was the one woman in most of the gay bars in Phoenix she frequented. She rotated around every weekend she could get away. "Miss Trisha" was just a nickname that was given by her friends back home, but came to work with it, even if it did sound weird to her "normal" crowd. She became heavily involved in the scene in the early 2000's when her brother came out of the closet. Even though her brother moved away, she felt close to the friends she made at the few bars around town. Now she was a regular and almost everyone knew her name.

Trisha, her real name, was married to her husband of 5 years, Mike. He had no issue with the crowd she was involved with. In fact, he tagged along with her a couple of times, but never particularly enjoyed themselves. Now in their mid-30s, the conversation of kids was a huge topic between the couple for a couple of years. The two have tried consistently, but nothing had come about. After some medical testing, the couple learned that Mike would not be able to have children of his own. The topic of adoption came up, and that was the route the couple was going to take.

Trisha, secretly, wanted a biological child of her own. Of course, the only way this would be possible would be to either have a sperm donor or sleep with another guy. Mike was uncomfortable with this idea. The two vowed for monogamy. Mike stuck firm with the original plan for adoption. Trisha had another idea.

That next weekend, Trisha entered Club Excelsior wearing a large coat. It was winter, but the Phoenix climate never warranted for giant coats. She had flyers stashed underneath. No one could know it was her putting these out. Trisha greeted her usual friends she saw every week, a couple of them commenting on her odd fashion choice. She intentionally got to the club very early that evening. She snuck away to the bathroom.

She took out the fliers from her coat and gave them one last look before leaving them on top of the toilet. It was a risk and a bit of a long shot. "What's the worst that could happen?" The green fliers read:

~~~~~~~~~

Quick Sex with Biological Woman

Tomorrow (Sunday)

On Birth Control/IUD

$30

No strings

Walk in, walk out

email below for times.

~~~~~~~

The fliers also had a picture of her body without her face. At the bottom of the flier were 12 pre-cut slips for people to grab with her anonymous email listed. Luckily, none of her gay friends had seen her without clothes and she didn't have any recognizable tattoos. She peeked out of the bathroom door, no one was waiting. Perfect. She went back upstairs and hung her coat behind the bar.

She paid close attention to the men roaming around the club that night. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was a bit discouraged by this, perhaps someone stole the fliers out of the bathroom thinking it was inappropriate. She would think at least there would be some awkward whispering between the men. She obviously couldn't look too discouraged - she would be ostracized if anyone found her "creeping" on these men. She logged into her email account that was listed on the flier.

0 new emails.

Oh well, it was worth a shot.

~~~~~~~~

Trisha was up that entire evening. Her husband, asleep, just assumed she couldn't sleep after the night out. However, to Trisha's surprise she had received 5 emails that night. Some of the emails themselves were from anonymous men. That wasn't optimal, she would rather know who was potentially going to father her child. However, as her mother always told her, beggars couldn't be choosers. 2 of the emails were from men she knew very well and was very surprised they would take up such a proposition. She had arranged these appointments an hour apart from each other, just to prevent the men from running into each other. She knew, from their perspective, there could be some stigma by participating in this event. In her emails, she ensured them that this even was completely individual and anonymous.

Mike was leaving for a business event for the week that afternoon. He wasn't aware of what was going on. Trisha still did not know how to break the news to him if this event was successful. That was a future problem of hers.

As 7pm rolled around, Trisha was ready. She had arranged a doorframe in her living room to have a curtain hanging from it. A towel was on the ground. She laid out so her bottom half was outside of the curtain, in the living room. Her top half, including her breasts, were on the other side of the curtain, hidden from the men. She made sure she was completely shaved. On the outside, she had lube (without spermicide, of course) and poppers ready. She knew how those men liked their poppers. Also, outside, a laptop ready for any porn the men would want to watch to encourage them. This was an adventure for these men, so she would not be offended if they could not keep it up. All she needed was one load. On the other side of the curtain, Trisha was comfortable. She had her phone, she was by herself. She didn't have to do much. At 7:05pm, the door opened. The first man was ready.

Anthony

Anthony walked in nervously. He hadn't done anything like this in years. At almost 50, he had been out of the scene for the most part for a while. He had been married to his husband for about 10 years at this point and generally lost interest with the "contemporary gays". He went to clubs very infrequently. He generally did not enjoy going. He was a former porn star, so he didn't have any problem getting people to talk to him. However, he was extremely picky. He always had his hot husband back home if he needed sex.

Anthony was definitely attractive, granted he had plumped up a bit since his "performing years". He was quite muscular, but not lean anymore. He was moderately hairy, having some light dark hair on his chest but a ton of hair on his stomach. Normally, this wasn't how porn producers wanted men to have body hair, but it was how his grew. He had a decent dick too, about 6 inches long and 5 inches around. He felt moderately "decent", but it was his face and cheekbones that made him popular. He kept a full but well-groomed beard.

He saw the flier in the bathroom last night. He was horrified by the proposition, but there was only one slip left. He took it instinctively. However, during his cab ride home, he stared at the slip that had become crinkled in his pocked. "What's the worst that could happen?" It was anonymous. If he couldn't get it up, he could just leave. In fact, that was what he was planning. It didn't hurt that this mystery woman lived very close to Anthony.

He looked at the bottom half of a woman staring at him from across the room. This wasn't his first time seeing a vagina in person. He'd never fucked one, but he's seen them. It didn't look like what he remembered. He kneeled between her legs and browsed some porn, jerking himself slowly. Surprisingly, he didn't have too much of an issue getting hard. He settled on some muscle bear porn.

After he was erect enough, he figured he should get going with it. He rubbed the head on her pussy, not really knowing where the hole was. He recognized the clit, maybe it was there? Keeping his cock right under her clit, he pushed. It didn't go in. Maybe that wasn't it? She was very wet, if that was her hole, it would have gone in. He moved down. Tried again. No dice. He got soft.

"Fuck", he muttered. He had to jerk himself off again. Finally, once erect again, he applied some pressure towards the bottom of her pussy. It slipped in very quickly. It was an unusual experience. It wasn't very tight, but the inner walls seemed to caress his cock. It had ridges, it was tight on the inside but not on the outside, completely opposite of a man's ass. The lips still seemed to grip onto his cock. It felt extremely wet. Anthony normally didn't like this, but it would have to do, he couldn't do much about it.

Anthony kept his eyes glued to the laptop screen. This didn't feel too bad, provided he had this visual stimulus. It felt like a very good blowjob, granted he usually didn't get off on blowjobs. After about 20 minutes of slowly going in and out of the wet vagina, he started feeling like he was going to cum. He figured he should speed up his fucking now so that feeling wouldn't slip away. He sped up, now pounding her quite deeply. He heard the woman gasp. He tried not to focus on that. His hands on either side of her torso, leaning quite deep. His happy trail started rubbing right on her clit.

Anthony was farther from orgasm than he suspected. He had to keep going through or he was going to lose all his progress. The woman kept making noise. Again, he tried not to focus on this, and only wanted to focus on the feeling on his cock. Suddenly, the woman moaned loudly, and her pussy squeezed him. He figured this was her cumming. The squeezing felt like she was trying to milk him, beckoning for him to cum in her. Something in Anthony found this insanely erotic. Anthony stopped humping and let her convulsions massage him. It didn't take much for Anthony to start shooting his seed in her. It felt like an insane handjob stroking the cum out of him. He hadn't realized that he was fully pressed against her.

After coming down from the high, Anthony pulled out quickly, pulled up his gym shorts, and walked hurriedly to the front door. He had a ping of regret already - he couldn't focus on this. The guilt would eat at him if he thought about it too hard. Once at the door his grunted a quick "Thanks".

Trisha recognized the South African accent.

Perfect. He has great genes.

To be continued...