My fiancée grew up on a ranch, what’s known in the business as a “cow-calf operation”. They have a herd of cows and heifers, each of which bears a calf every year.
They also have bulls whose purpose is, in sperm donor jargon, NI (natural insemination).
To maintain genetic diversity and for cows that haven’t been naturally inseminated, they use, again in sperm donor jargon, AI (artificial insemination). They buy frozen sperm from the owner of the bull or from a semen dealer. (One of her favorite caps has the logo of a semen broker, the name of which includes “Breeders”.)
She has inseminated thousands of cows and heifers.
I’m already feeling performance anxiety.
There was a suggestion in the comments to my last post that the son of our friend might be a good DNA donor.
Me (jocularly): If [friend] can’t do it, maybe [friend’s son] can.
My Love: What a great idea! Honors Physics major, two sport athlete, hunk, killer looks, 6-4, wonderful kid, great genes all around …
Me: No, no, no! I was just kidding. How weird it would be to ask him? “Hey kid, you want to make a baby with me?” If it didn’t freak him out, I would be concerned for him. Besides, it would practically be Lolita.
My Love: Sweetie, he’ll be 21 years old by that time.
Me: Sometimes you are so obtuse. Think about it: Asking him to jerk off for a drop-dead gorgeous blonde? For God’s sake, dear, he’s seen you in that Eres swimsuit! He’s not even going to need a Playboy!
My Love: OK, you’re right. But you have a deranged imagination.