9

I had been no stranger to awkward sex in the past, but I never thought it could be that bad. Not in my wildest dreams had more teeth collided, or knees knocked against one and other or ass out hugs been thrown like rude epithets at the person who had agreed with a strait face to have me put my penis inside of her. Not for money, or under the influences of some mind altering chemicals like alcohol, or endorphins, but simply to make a baby, and with the expressed intent of finding true love.
We met at an nondescript coffee shop the first time, and made as little small talk as possible. This wasn't how I was used to meeting women, I know this because I remember what happened which is usually not the case. Often I'm too worried, or drunk, or anxious to really be paying attention--most girls don't realize it, but they never actually get a chance to make a first impression on me. Meeting Marie was different, and I remember every minute detail. The tall drink she ordered was a latte and she added sugar, she wore blue jeans and a white blouse, with a leather belt. She smelled like lavender. The toes sticking out of her black saddles were painted purple, and she had on what may have been the most obnoxious pair of sun glasses I had ever seen.
After 20 minutes, we went to a clinic to get blood tests, and when we both came back negative later that week we went to her place, ate spaghetti, climbed in bed and had some of the slowest, blandest sex I can recall. If the drunken party sex I had come to associate with first times were like short form figure skating routines, this first time with Marie was a compulsory event. About half way through she paused as if something was wrong, but started going again, and soon after that we were done. I got up to leave almost without event which was as new to me as meeting a girl sober. Too used to the dance of getting out of bed trying not to disturb my partner--if you could call them that-- which was always more delicate than the dance I had inevitably employed to get into bed in the first place. This was a welcome surprise. I like this. Before I drove off she pulled out a book, the cover was of a 20s era detective novel. I thought nothing of it.

8

I knew at the time that what I wanted was something new, that I wasn't really familiar with. What I didn't know at the time was that thing I was searching for had a name.
When I went to the classifieds, I wasn't expecting a flood of responses from women too poor to buy from a sperm bank, and yet so desperate for the bonds of maternity that would flock to any opportunity for impregnation. I expected that anyone from that set might be just as easy to find in a crowded bar, and that the anonymous sperm donors would likely have no idea that they were partaking in such a noble deed. I hoped beyond hope, in fact, that all those women would fly right past my listing, and move to the casual encounters. I didn't want a fling, and I didn't want a nuclear relationship like my parents had fostered when I was younger.
I want danger, mystery, intrigue, and lust. The thing I wanted had a name. She introduced herself as Marie. She was my girl Friday.

7

Her name was Karen, and while we were each only undergraduates at the time she did go on to do graduate work in the field of Theology. She hoped that one day she could hold some high station in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints which happened to be the most backwards thinking social organization in the history of man in terms of gender roles. As a result of this backward facing philosophy, Karen would never be able to realize her goals.
When she told me about her greater theory of Creation and Prime Numbers, Karen was a Sophomore studying theoretical mathematics. By graduation, we were engaged and set to be married in two years time despite that we would each still be in school. I eventually found my way away from the Ivory tower. I work in hospitality, which is a good outlet for my terrible habit of being polite.
I can't recall a single salient event in the two and a half intervening years between hearing about Karen's greater theory of Creation and Prime Numbers and the graduation ceremony which I quite nearly managed to sleep through, save for this one:
During the Summer separating out Junior and Senior years, Karen and I went to a state park on the Great Salt Lake one night with her parents to eat barbecue. This was before we were engaged, and her mother asked some question about when we would get married and give her some grandchildren. I though this was a normal exchange, I thought Mormans made grandchildren like it was their day job, but Karen was incensed like I had never seen her before.
"Mother, you know I won't be giving you the grandchildren you want. If anything, we'll be adopting. I refuse to believe that there's something special about the love a mother has for her baby just because he sat inside her for 9 months, or because for nine months what I eat is what he eats. The strongest love I've ever known was given to me instantly, when I Jesus into my life. That's the love I want for and grandchildren we give you."
I loved the way the light of the moon bounced off the sea, and met itself again in the same place where the light of the fire was prancing about. It was all reflected at me in Karen's eyes, and for a moment, she was the most beautiful thing in the world, and I loved her.