Alex (or maybe his name is Andrew or Jesse) brought you back to his place and things are totally on. His arms? Beefy. His make-out skills? Clutch. His hair? Like Zeus himself blow-dried it. Clothes are coming off and then, right at the crucial moment, he looks at you with eyes a color you've only ever seen before on tropical postcards and whispers slowly into your ear, "Don't worry, babe. I'm on the pill."
The idea that this scenario could be a reality (give or take a few details) has been looming for what feels like forever. Headlines have promised that long-term, reversible male birth control is *this close*. Then...nothing. It's all started to feel like a cruel, elaborate joke. How can women have dozens of contraceptive options and men only have two: one-time-use condoms and permanent vasectomies?
As our investigation found, it depends on who you ask.
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