Does anyone else find themselves imagining that they're running a eugenics program with their man as breeding stud?
For me it's a vague, hazy fantasy that comes in fits and starts, each time the details slightly different. I imagine running genomic analysis, advancing the field of predictive genetics, and using it to gather him only the most eugenically fit women to breed. I medically examine them beforehand, quantifying and cataloguing all the ways in which they're fit to bear his children. I answer their questions, confirm their cycles, make sure they're maximally ready to contribute their bloodlines to the grand project that will outlive us all. This is a fantasy, so naturally they're completely on board with my objectives.
I study him too, for I want to know everything about him all the time, and together we work to tweak his diet and exercise to make his sperm as healthy and numerous as possible. As we drift to sleep together each night, I cup my hand around his scrotum and fancy that I can feel his balls filling with all the new lives he'll be creating the next day.
Naturally, I have to be present for the breeding sessions themselves. How I imagine them differs from moment to moment. Sometimes the girl is nervous, sometimes raring to go. Sometimes I'm just an observer, sometimes I'm a little more involved in a sexual coaching and direct assistance role. Whatever it takes.
And at the end of each day I debrief him from my knees, interrogate him in between mouthfuls of his scientifically adulterous cock about how each of these women made him feel, how much pleasure they brought him, what he liked and disliked. I catalogue this and use it to find him even better matches.
I am one of the breeding subjects too, for the future belongs to those who show up, but like all subjects I only receive his seed when the union has the highest chance of bearing fruit. I wouldn't want to steal other girls' chances to conceive by skimming his cream, after all.
No? Only me?