We’ve been friends for over a decade. Mark and I have been through everything—college, breakups, career crashes. When he told me he couldn’t have kids, I offered to help without thinking twice. I trusted him. I trusted Madison.

Then she asked for natural insemination.

I hesitated, but she was calm, direct. "It’s not just biology," she said. "It’s connection. I want to feel it—warm, real, with love. Not a cup in a lab."

Last night was the third time. She put on sexy lingerie, claiming that my arousal was important to increase sperm count. She claims all the foreplay, the dirty talk is all supposed to somehow help her get pregnant, but I suspect she may be enjoying this too much.

Mark still has no idea about the "natural insemination". He thinks me and Madison are meeting in a clinic for a scientific cold process. Instead we are meeting in hotels and fucking for hours.

Its only been a day since our last "procedure" but Madison has already texted me. "Now is a good time of the month for me. We should have another go at it. Same hotel as last time. I've got a few new positions I think will help" followed by a series of very suggestive emojis. As I'm still processing all this when my phone buzzes again. It's a photo from her, wearing the sexiest bright red lingerie I've ever seen. "In case you need any incentive to perform you duties" the message reads.