Wanting to have a child and being gay was a challenge I never envisioned before this point in my life. On one hand, it would have been far more difficult if I were a man, but as a female my biggest challenge was how to get “knocked up”.
My partner Jane and I had been together for over three years. We discussed adopting, artificial insemination, or the easiest option; simple sex with a man.
Now, the first option would be a challenge, and could take years to get done. Or we could cut corners and adopt in the third world, but the thought of that option honestly scared me to death as well as being brutally expensive.
The second option would work, but then again it would cost a lot of money and require going through a complete medical procedure.
So the option we chose was simply “simple sex with a man”. Jane reluctlantly agreed to this option, with one stipulation; the man could never know he was fathering my child. This option had both merits, barriers as well as challenges. The merits would be the ease and the cost. The challenge would be finding a willing participant, but after a few minutes of thinking it through I concluded “hell, half of the men in the world would agree to fuck any twenty-four year old woman who works out regularly. Lesbian or not!”.
The challenge would be – returning back into the closet. I knew lots of men in Tampa that would probably oblige, the problem was keeping the father a secret within our circle of friends and acquaintances. So I chose to do the dirty deed in Las Vegas, where “what ever happens here, stays here”. So Jane agreed as I booked my travel for Labor Day weekend.
Jane agreed I could make all my own choices as long as I chose a strong father. And kept it a secret.
During the four-hour flight on America West I mapped out my strategy. I would tell my chosen donor that I was a gay woman that had never had sex with a man and I wanted to give it a try. No that was like a Bush type plan. Another strategy was to just let myself to be picked up and invited up to a man’s room. In the end I concluded I would just play it by ear.
Friday Night.
I checked into the Stardust hotel at 7pm and went up to my room. I figured, I would make myself look man—attractive I wanted to be "fuckable" so to speak. So soon after checking out the hotel off I went shopping for the every day party cheap wardrobe. I ended up investing in two-inch pumps and a short tight jeans skirt. It was a simple look that I hoped would work do the job. I had packed two blouses before the trip that would reveal some cleavage so I thought the entire ensemble might do the job. I painted my face with rouge, applied lipstick after neatly doing my hair.
At 10:30 all dressed up I headed down to the bar. I didn’t take long before I was approached. This guy wouldn’t do, not father my child. And as the night progressed I was offered drinks time and time again but none of these guys were the right choice. i just didn’t feel right. I gave up at 1:00am without having met the father of my child. Tomorrow would be a new day.
Saturday.
I went through the same prepare myself routine late in the afternoon. Today my thoughts repeated endlessly in my mind; I was a slut looking to get laid. The difference today was I chose to go to a club, perhaps this would be a better atmosphere with some strong men. Who knows, maybe getting away from the gambling tables was what I just needed to do.
