Now, Soon, or Later?

by Christopher Lovejoy on January 15, 2012

I don’t think I could do my story justice if I didn’t tell you about the … well, let me put it this way:

Her loving embrace, naked flesh on naked flesh, rewarded my body and brain with a deliciously felt flood of endorphins, drenching my awareness with a sensual pleasure most exquisite.

Our eternal embrace gave way to a shared space that favored a mounting desire, nourished by a mutually penetrating gaze that encouraged an assorted mix of tender touches, kisses, and caresses.

The outpouring of emotion that ensued, however, came without warning: our impulses erupted into a frenzy of passion that displayed a shameless affinity for sheer, utter madness.

In a fit of wisdom, I broke it off, running and diving into the water nearby.

The cooling waters quickly relieved the intensity of my urge to merge. In retrospect, my reaction felt more than a little ridiculous, but it was a necessary one as far as I was concerned.

I stood up and watched her, smiling at how quickly she regained her composure.

Lovingly and somewhat plaintively, she delivered a string of words I could not understand, and then stood gazing at me, her countenance serene, her presence alive to equanimity.

At least she had enough empathy to comprehend my point of view and lend it some credence.

She turned away, picked up a short, slender stick nearby, and beckoned to me with a casual wave of her hand. I kept smiling, feeling charmed and delighted by her good-natured response.

I must say that my interest was definitely piqued by the prospect of learning something new.

I knelt next to her in the sand and watched her produce a series of sketches and gestures, but her message didn’t gel for me until she splayed her legs, and by rubbing and tapping the tips of her fingers and thumb together, made me believe that she was pulling something sticky out of her vagina.

It was then that I surmised she was giving me a lesson on natural birth control.


“Yes,” I laughed good-naturedly, feeling taken by her tone of firm assurance, and smiled some more.

It was clear to me that she didn’t want to bring a naked newborn into this wild world any more than I did, at least not here on this remote oceanic island. She obviously knew something I didn’t.

I suddenly got an idea.

I stood up and gestured for her to take my hand, which she did, and we returned to base at a leisurely pace, where I retrieved my eReader from my first-aid kit, looking specifically for information on natural birth control methods. I honestly didn’t think I would find any such information in a survival guide, but knowing the friend who put it together, I wouldn’t have been too surprised if he had included it.

Thankfully, he had. In detail, as it turned out.

My potential mate sat next to me on the bed of leaves as I accessed the desired information.

I recalled the content of my companion’s earlier lesson and was able to pinpoint what she was talking about. She was referring to a natural birth control method called the mucus inspection method, which depends on the presence or absence of a certain kind of cervical mucus.

I had vaguely heard of this method before and I was intrigued enough to learn more. I showed her a few illustrations of the method and she confirmed them with a simple “yes”.

I did some more reading …

A woman’s body produces more mucus than usual just before the release of an egg from her ovary, taking on the consistency of a raw egg white and stretching for up to an inch when pulled apart.

In her lesson, my companion seemed to be telling me that she could recognize differences in quantity and quality by manually removing a sample of mucus from her vaginal opening.

Normally, a woman recognizes such differences from residues on her underwear, pads, or toilet tissue, but here, in this beautiful paradise, my companion could be as naked and free as she pleased.

Between the end of her last period and a change in her mucus when its gets all stretchy, she could safely have vaginal intercourse. This blessed freedom, however, came with a distracting cost.

The instructions in the guide recommended that she choose an appropriate time to have intercourse every other day to bypass any interference from the seminal fluid inside her vagina, so that she could recognize a change in the mucus, warning her to abstain from intercourse for three to four days.

This seemed like a lot to remember, and it would put a damper on our spontaneity, but we did enjoy a timeless milieu, and it was just a matter of establishing and following a simple pattern of behavior.

Through patient gestures, she offered to have me be a witness to her periods and inspections with a regular, daily routine. I knew in my heart that I could trust her intention with the timing, but I also felt an obligation to share the burden of judgment. I nodded and kissed her third eye with tender regard.

I invited her to join me along the shore, and with my index finger, drew a timeline in the wet sand.

Using sketches of the sunrise and sunset as references, while referring to the placement of the sun in the sky, I added three words to her vocabulary: ‘now’, ‘soon’, and ‘later’.


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