Yes, I know. It is quite taboo to talk about conception on a sex blog. Most people see childbirth as a dire consequence of something awesome. Maybe I should be writing for a maternity magazine? No, I shouldn’t, this is all things sex. I write what I want! And with that being said, after a bizarre hook-up on a beautiful island, I do think I’ve found the manor in which I would like to conceive my children.
Picture this: You are on a secluded beach in a developing country. Night falls. You had a wonderful dinner, drank your favorite cocktail, which coincidentally is an aphrodisiac, and the generator is about to go off. No power means pitch black, and there isn’t another soul on the beach. You and your love walk back in the water, and as you kick the rolling tide, you realize the ocean is filled with bioluminescence. You instantly strip off your clothes and start swimming in the buff.
With so much plankton, it looks as if you and your love are swimming in the night sky. Each individual light looks like a star, and although you swim individually at first, taking in the scene, you see one another’s starlight swim in the same direction. Before you know it, the two opposing light sources become one, and as your lips lock, the baby-making has begun. There is nobody within 10K of you, so the beach, the bioluminescence, the night sky (which seems mundane toward the magic in the sea) is yours.
Though your child will hopefully never know the story, the fertility gods must give some sort of prize, in the form of an amazing child, for that type of baby-making. Now the hard part of finding a spouse and the answer to the question of whether or not I want children, though, is still at hand.