We Create a Life

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Young couple carefully plans the moment of conception.
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Jim and I created our son, Michael, on a perfect Hawaii day to the sound of the surf. I knew I had just ovulated. When I told Jim he swelled between his legs at the news. Not only did we know we were to capture that moment of my cycle, we had also found a perfect place to savor the making of life.

Jim and I know that the child conceived with love grows up to love. So it seems with Michael. He's the sweetest 10 year old. He's got the best of both Jim and me. Sass, quick with a story and a love of fun. He's athletic, with a good sense of balance. Off-key moods come and go; they seldom last long. People warm to him without hesitation. Jim and I love him to pieces.

I've long wanted to tell the story of his conception because Michael has been my greatest achievement. Jim's too, he says. Michael won't find this story if I publish it here. Even if he does, it won't hurt him to know how much his parents wanted to create him – and even to learn the erotic details of how and where we did it.

We planned three weeks in Hawaii knowing I'd be ready toward the end of it. I'm very regular. When I ovulate there's a feeling like a pinch inside me. It's almost always on the 11th day after my period begins.

For the first two weeks we hiked, swam, and kayaked the island. All around its circumference and to its heights. It its forests and streams and on its beaches. And we made love. We are very good at it. That's almost an understatement.

We got brown. We joke that the tanning booth at the health club is "practicing for Hawaii". So when we hit the island and don swim suits we don't burn. We only turn gold.

Being physically fit it is another part of our good fortune. We both have many sports we enjoy. We don't carry much extra fat. And the lifting we do in the gym together has developed our muscles, giving us good definition. Fitness makes our sexual experiences that much better.

We are a good fit. Jim is six feet tall and built on the lean side. His shoulders and chest are broad, the profile of a swimmer and Nordic skier. He has a firm ass and long thighs. His calves are rounded and firm. He doesn't carry a lot of body hair. It was exciting for me when he shaved his cock and balls, leaving just a little muff above. My pussy is clean for him, too. I shaved it, the better for him to access my womanhood. I've let him shave me sometimes, a very trusting, loving and sexy thing for both of us.

I'm smaller, a size four. Five foot three but full of power and, I'm told, grace. My sport was gymnastics. I did ballet, too, but my sense of rhythm wasn't strong. Girls like me have small frames, often ample but narrow hips, and compact breasts. Being aware of my body and how to use it in sports made it easy to develop my sexuality. "Proud owner" I would say to myself when I was using the mirror to watch my puberty develop.

Finding and owning my sexuality came with the same ease as gymnastics. There are lots of mirrors in gyms, and at the ballet bar. My bathroom at home, too. I was self-aware. I looked forward to times when nobody else was home. That's when I taught myself the joys of my sensuality. Orgasms happened with little effort. I would savor every one, often watching in a mirror as I came. My fantasies were how I would look to my husband when I was excited and ecstatic.

It didn't take long to realize my husband would be Jim. Our parents were good friends; we lived on the same street. Growing up together made it easy to discover each other in a different way when we matured. We married right after high school. We could afford our little house three years later because both parents chipped in for the down payment. Jim's job as a carpenter in his dad's company covered the mortgage. He earns good money having become a journeyman after trade school. I do well as a nurse. We don't need my income to make ends meet: we planned it that way so I could make and raise a child.

That was the idea of our first extended vacation, the Hawaii trip.

We spent the first two weeks enjoying the island and sex with each other. Conception was likely the last week, we knew. Making the most of it meant backing off slightly on the intensity of the physical activities. I wanted Jim full of seed for me. No less sensuality between us, however. If anything there was more lovemaking, more orgasms for me. Just none for Jim after day nine, before my day 11 when I expected to feel that pinch inside me.

Day 10 I denied release to myself, too. We pleasured each other to the point of being close. I got Jim so hard and took so long doing it that the head of his cock was glistening with precum. I put him on his side so the juice could flow out on my hand. Then I applied it between my legs and let him watch as I masturbated. I took myself through four small orgasms, little twinges that I knew would lead to full release if I allowed. Each time I backed off. Each time I told him how close I was. I said I wanted him in me to make it happen. He stayed hard, with his hands on his dick and scrotum. I kept taking precum off and applying it.

"Enough," we said finally. We were ready. He was ready. I was ready. Thus ended Day 10.

We had found this spot off a public beach shortly after we arrived. It's one of those postcard beaches which attracts a crowd during the tourist season. After Labor Day it's often vacant. What nobody does, to our delight, is use the trail that runs off that beach along the shore. It goes for five miles until it reaches the next beach, which also has road access and which is often vacant. With no reason for people to use the long trail between them, we never saw anyone on it.

About halfway the trail has a branch leading to a rocky cove. There's a grove of kiawe trees. You can't see in there from the trail. On the ocean side of the copse of trees someone built a plywood sleeping platform. It's supported by two-by-fours and a couple trees. Their branches form a canopy over this idyllic setting. The platform was about three feet off the ground. Because of its height, we knew we had a great use for it. And not for sleeping!

Day 11 dawned at our condo as we prepared for our day at the kiawe grove. We hugged and kissed in the bed. As I tucked my head into that place on Jim's chest I love the most I felt it. The pinch. "It's there," I told Jim. "I just ovulated. I'm ready. Let's make a life today."

Breakfast was fresh fruit, yogurt, toast and cereal. We packed our stuff and drove to the beach. Jim shouldered a small backpack. We had snacks, water, suntan lotion, body oils, towels. I carried a rolled-up tatami beach mat. The day was cloudless. A little breeze flowed off the water.

At 86 degrees and a breeze, the unclothed body feels neither chilled nor overheated. As we hiked into the grove I noticed beads of sweat forming on Jim's shoulders, back and face. I was doing the same. At one point he stopped, admired me and said he liked sweat that formed on my chest. He reached out and smoothed it onto my breasts. He reached inside my halter top and spread the moisture over my nipples. My insides quivered as my anticipation rose. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. I took delight in seeing the hardness swell inside his board shorts. I grasped it with one hand and suggested we finish the journey to the grove.

We stood in the grove watching the surge of the ocean. I moved from Jim's side to stand behind him. I wanted him nude. Placing my hands on his waist I pulled his t-shirt out of his shorts, lifted it up to his shoulders and then freed his arms one at a time. I massaged his lean and muscular arms as I removed his shirt. I scratched the insides of his arms gently with my fingernails.

His shorts followed. He got the same sensual massaging treatment as I eased them down his legs. Both garments found themselves with the towel on the mat we set on the sand, in the sunshine.

Still at Jim's back, I wrapped my arms around him and made like the cat in heat I had become. I let my hands play up and down his body. I found one muscle, then another, kneading each one, alternating with strokes and nail scratches.

I love getting Jim hot by playing with his nipples. I stroked his broad chest and shoulders and discovered anew the bones, muscles and sinews beneath. I ran first my palms over his nipples. I put my head sideways on his back with my ear firmly planted so I could hear his breathing. Then I moved my fingers closer and closer to his nipples, finally touching them gently, massaging one, then the other, then both at once. His breath quickened and he rocked back against me. He opened his chest gave forth a groan of pleasure. He gave over his body to my loving touch.

Leaning back with this stimulation caused Jim to move his hips out and away from me. He had become hard and I caught my breath at the sight of him as I peeked around his waist. "I'm to have that in me soon," I thought to myself. To Jim I gave the thought voice, "I'm wet already, getting slippery inside for you to enter me."

I was being forward and direct about what I wanted to give and receive. I'm not shy with Jim. He always hears from me what I want and how I want it. He's the same to me about himself. For the moment I was playing leader. This was my show. I was going to conceive. I needed his seed inside me, of course, but I wanted him to know it was because of my unrestrained desire that he was going to be putting it there.

So there he stood, rock-hard, nipples erect, lightly sweating and with his hips thrust forward. I moved around in front of him. I had my arms at my sides, relaxed with feet planted firmly: the gymnast's pose. I looked at Jim directly and asked him to undress me now.

He's good at that. No stripping and flinging clothes about. Gently he removed my halter top, then my cutoffs. We were both barefoot now, too. I reached my arms around his neck. He bent down and we kissed. Firmly, deeply, with tongues touching, feeling and playing the wet and slippery game we know would shortly follow, between our legs.

I curled one of my legs around the back of his knee. He reached down from my waist and grasped me under my ass. He found the bottom of the hip bones and palmed them. His firm dick was against my abdomen. Holding my hip bone as he did enabled him easily to pick me up, light and compact creature that I am. Both my legs wrapped around the backs of his knees.

Picking me up like that dropped his hard cock from my stomach to the region between my legs. He lowered me slightly and his tool spread the outer lips of my vagina. This wasn't an angle for him to enter me, and I didn't want him in that way yet anyway. But I thrilled at the feeling of all that hardness being moistened by my free-flowing juices as it coursed back and forth from my clit and along my vaginal slit.

It doesn't take much to bring me off and this started me coming. My legs wrapped around Jim. His cock massaged my clit and the insides of my outer lips. That was certainly enough. I cooed, I purred, I groaned, and I gasped. My breathing quickened. My heart rate rose. I hung on to Jim with the considerable strength that my body contains. I let my head fall back from him and I let out a cry of delight that was part human, part animal and all woman. The orgasm pulsed through me in small waves, warming my core. I put my head back on his chest and thanked him.

Jim gently carried me, still with his hard-on between my legs, over to the sleeping platform. He placed me on it, on my back, leaning over it so I could release my arms from his neck and lie back. My hips were at the edge of the platform. When we had scouted this spot earlier, we chose this place and its platform to begin this new life.

With my hips at the end of the platform and Jim holding my thighs apart his cock was exactly at the level of my vagina. He could vary the angle of his entry: lower by spreading his legs, higher by keeping them together, and higher yet by standing on the balls of his feet. If he was higher he was at my angle and able to enter the most deeply. If he was lower, the head of his penis would stroke my g-spot.

But even now he wasn't entering me. Instead, he placed the rolled-up towel under my head so I could see him between my legs. Then he leaned over and started kissing first my breasts, then every part of my body and legs he could reach. He was headed between my legs and he had me crying for it from the first contact with my breasts. As he went lower, he left his hands on my breasts. Soon he had my clit in his mouth and I was coming again, my cries of rapture piercing the kiawe copse.

We stopped. It was time. He was ready. I was ready. My body wanted to do what it was made to do. His body had the male imperative to complete the act. He leaned over me and I passed my hunger back to him with the same force that he showed his to me.

With the towel under my head as a pillow I could see the length of Jim standing in front of me. He was all male at that moment and I was his woman. I planted my feet lightly on his hips, I spread my legs wide for him to see where he was headed. I reached both hands down between my legs. I opened my moist outer lips. I stroked my clit just a little, freeing it from the restriction of its shelter. Then I reached farther and spread my inner lips, relaxed, and allowed my vagina to open for Jim to view with desire.

Jim had the Albolene within reach. He opened the jar, took out some of that slippery stuff and spread it on his cock. Just as I was doing with my fingers between my legs, Jim spread the moist warm semi-fluid on himself. I knew what pleasure that brings him. We had sometimes watched each other masturbate in much the same way. Indeed, I admired his control on this day.

He took a little of the same substance and used it to coat me. Not just my vagina, which hardly needed it anyway, but also my inner thighs and the hard mons above it. So freely would this touch enable us to move together.

The very tip of his penis was releasing precum in quantity. He took one drop on his finger and spread it across my lips. I tasted it and something deep inside my body answered in a way I can't explain.

Now I wanted him to enter me. He wanted to pierce me, too. He moved very slowly. We both wanted to savor every touch of this moment. He stroked the head of his penis around my clit, and up and down. My breathing increased. I was still riding an orgasmic plateau. His motions just kept me there, continually aroused, hardly differentiating between the sensuality of sex and the recurring flutters of orgasm occurring inside me.

He dropped his penis from my clit and smoothly let it glide farther down my slit. He let it move past my vaginal opening to the bottom of the outer lips, then back up, then down, then up. I pulsed, came forth with a moan, and released another orgasm. He could see my vagina open and close from within as the pleasure waves overtook me.

He paused, with his penis now at my tunnel's opening. He watched me come back to earth from that orgasm and opened his eyes a little wider, using them to ask if I was ready for him to enter. "I'm open for you, Jim," I whispered.

I laid my arms back over my head, to show I was offering my body to him.

He pressed his hips forward. I saw some of the head of his penis disappear into my slit. I relaxed my vaginal muscle and made it easy for the rest of his head to enter. He eased it in, then back, then in, then back. I fluttered inside.

I wanted all of him, then. He stopped with just the head inside my opening. I could grasp it then, with my internal muscles, pulling him the rest of the way into me. It was my moment. It was his moment. Male to female, the consummation of our beings.

Pull, enter. Pull, enter more. Pull, come into me my love. Push, I'm yours. Pull, feel my love holding you, Jim. Push, take more of me, I want you all.

That's it, you are mine. You have all of me, you are deep, so deep, all that way, all of you, of me surrounding you. Your head is there, it's all the way there. I can feel it pressing the end of my vagina, where the cervix rests. It's dipping down, waiting for your release. The seed, give me that seed, my egg awaits you.

Jim leaned over me. I used my strong thighs to hold him all the way there in me, and coordinate our movements. We drank in each other's sexually-charged gazes of desire. I picked up my arms from behind my head. I brought them to his chest and held his nipples. In this position we would complete what creation had put us on this earth to do. His eyes asked if this was the moment. Mine replied it was.

He withdrew a little. He slid back again. I adjusted my thighs to bring him closer. Again and again, and the fit became complete. I lost any sense of my body as separate from his. We were melding every muscle and fiber, mixing it all with the DNA inside us.

I discovered the Albolene jar beside me, moistened my fingers with it and applied it to his nipples. My hips rose and fell to Jim's movements, my fingers played with his chest and I gave myself over to a rising pinnacle of orgasm inside me.

Jim's orgasm is like that, he tells me. It begins with a most massive body-enthralling sensation of pure energy and joy. The contractions and spilling of seed follow this feeling of cresting a wave. The only difference is my ability to enjoy that feeling again and again. Jim's is a massive whole-body experience, and not to be repeated for at least a little while, and then not in the same way.

I let my orgasms roll over Jim's shaft but kept myself sufficiently conscious to enjoy the rising of his coming. I squeezed him inside and slide my fingers back and forth over his nipples. I watched for the supreme instant of just before no return from his orgasm. When he's there, Jim's movements slow.

He was there. Right at the shore of his ecstasy. I slowed my movements too, the better for him to enjoy his release, for me to enjoy his having it, and us to share it. We paused, motionless. Joy coursed between us.

I brought him even closer to cresting his wave. I know the pleasure cycle of this man, my husband. He deserved it all, and I have it to give him.

I pleasured him with slow but firm internal clenches. Then I stopped even those. We felt his penis swell inside me, pressed firm against the cervix.

The moment was upon him.

I used his nipples to launch him.

A loving stroke, continuous, back and forth and his eyes locked on mine. His face lit up with joy, his body rose against me and his orgasm began. He flew with it, this beautiful man and the body he occupies. The heavens opened for him. I accepted him into me, that most vital part of me.

He rode the pinnacle and crested his wave. When the moment of release arrived I could feel his penis swell to bursting. Then he launched his first ejaculation into me. It's a totally involuntary event for him.

I greeted his pleasure with spasms from within me. Being on my orgasmic plateau all along, that first ejaculation was all it took to bring me to that strongest, most satisfying and massive orgasm of release for which I'd been saving myself.

It was just as well we were so far from people, and that the ocean's surf masked our voices. We both gave free with cries of joy as we came, an almost-scream from me, a hoarse roar from Jim. We let our contractions roll through us. My thighs clenched and unclenched around Jim. He held me as I came. I held him as he came. We shared the joy, never removing our gaze from each other. He watched the orgasmic flush as it spread across my breast. I sensed the pulsing of him within, his liquid seed coursing into me, warming me, completing me.

Pulse, he gave some to me. Clench inside, and I received it. Pulse, clench. Pulse, clench, and again, and again. I gave myself over without reservation. My body his, and his mine. Ours. Merged with universal life-forces. No sense of time or space, him or me. The cosmos spoke and our voices and bodies answered in unison. Joy, heaven, power, love, sense and sensuality, sex and the power of lust overwhelmed our beings, separately and merged as one, in this act of creation.

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