I think I may have stumbled upon something here, folks. An idea with real potential here:
A method of birth control more natural than pills, more reliable than “natural family planning…” And the only thing you have to do is remember to feed it and scoop its litter. Yes, I’m talking about my cat of course. But seriously, for those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, let me introduce Methos:
He’s lovable, he’s large, he’s dopey…he likes to wear shoes (sometimes on his face)…
And he has no qualms whatsoever about making himself comfortable in the bed (or on the couch) while hubby and I have sex. The other night, I practically used him as a pillow, since he didn’t feel inclined to move. But at least he wasn’t staring right at us this time. That can get pretty damn awkward. It’s like I can hear him thinking (perhaps in a British accent), Ugh, they’re at it again. They’re worse than animals… that’s fucking disgusting… Except, as I said, he can’t be bothered to get up and leave. But we’ve adjusted to it. Mostly we ignore him, and sometimes we kick him off the bed if we find him too distracting.
But there was this one time he happened to on the bed and there was a contraception… mishap.
Women who have experimented with different types of contraception may be familiar with a spermicide foam sold in a pressurized can with applicators. So, for those needing it spelled out, the applicator can be filled quickly and with little preparation, by applying it to the top of the pressurized can and release it when you see the applicator is full. Voila! You’re ready for safe* sex.
I don’t know where on the bed the cat was; I wasn’t really paying much attention to him. Hubby and I were getting busy, and one of us was attempting to fill the applicator. It wasn’t anything new, except this time, we held the applicator to the nozzle a bit too long. Suddenly, the pressure from the can became too much. The plunger rocketed out of the top of the tube in a plume of contraceptive foam and bounced off the ceiling.