Our New Life

She is more than a dream of mine, and more than perfection to me.

She looks now just as she did then. Each time we look different, but somehow the same. This is our fifth life’s ‘reunion’. We’ve each experienced many more lives than five, but this is our fifth time together. We’ve known each other in most of our lives, but we weren’t together. In the last life she was married to an engineer and had three children. She is always faithful to her man. This time I was that man.

I feel that we were made for each other. In past lives we had been in many professions and held many jobs and positions. This time I’m a professor and she is a teacher, again. She is just as beautiful as I remembered when I’d met her in the last life. She would never leave her engineer then, but I’d asked her if, in our next life, she’d give me a kiss and get to know me better. She’d said yes, and my heart sang. Somehow I knew there would be another life, at the time, but she wasn’t certain.

Her body has always been flawless. Even after three children in the previous life, her body has shown no effect. Her tummy and breasts were as superb as they are now. In that life we’d met on the Internet, and I instantly knew she was my dream. We’d spent time talking, and enjoying our time there even though we never physically met. But, it wasn’t the same. I’d asked for pictures and she’d sent them, and what pictures they were — my heart still sings. But talking and viewing are not the same as being together.

When she walks I listen for the angels to move aside. When she talks I learn of beauty, and the sound that angels make. When we make love I surrender. I don’t know why there are so many different lives, but each time that I’m with her I try to make them perfect. I’m learning, slowly, that I can affect our future, or next, life.

I hope, eventually, to have only her in each new life. I want to be with her always and satisfy her every dream. I’m hoping that if somehow we’re together often enough that eventually I’ll win the jackpot and she’ll be mine forever. This would be perfection to never again have to share her.

Right now we’re at the beach. She’s wearing a hip length robe over her shoulders that helps to hide her luscious body from passersby and her body is enclosed only by a red bikini. Her hips and thighs are of the texture and color of cool cream. Her magnificent breasts force the bikini to constantly struggle to contain them. Her hips are like the soft undulating ocean swell experienced while sailing on the calm day after a severe storm. Her legs are perfection personified. As she turns her head back toward me, her profile takes away my breath for a moment and I’m gasping for air. She stretches an arm toward me, palm up, to grab my hand and pull me forward, toward her. Her eyes swallow my soul, and her lips cause it to lust. She takes my hand, and I feel the strength in those long fingers. I can still remember the huge engagement ring that she wore in her previous life — and I remember the smaller wedding band.

We begin a slow run together. The bikini is doing overtime around the perfection of her hips and the enclosure of her breasts. The red of the bikini blends perfectly with the tinge of the sun-highlighted deep red coming through her long dark hair. I yearn with the vision of that hair surrounding and caressing her naked breasts, and then dipping to provide a frame for the perfection of her hips and womanhood.

We are headed for the end of the beach, and privacy of sea rocks that will shelter us from other’s eyes. Before we left the car, I’d spread a creamy sun protectant across her body. I felt and tasted the beauty in all that she is. I massaged the lotion into her skin while giving special attention to those spots most affected by the sun, and those parts so special in our love. She’d closed her eyes and slowly rocked her body as I’d worked. She’d hummed softly, providing the music to inspire my efforts.

I turned and ran backwards with her; I was studying the beach behind us for a sign of anyone coming this far down. The beach seemed clear. I wanted to be absolutely alone with her. We entered the water to our waists and walked around the steep rocks to our own private beach captured between them. The sand was as white as we remembered, and the surrounding rocks as dark. We walked to the center of the beach a few yards behind the breaking waves and spread a large white blanket. I placed the picnic cooler at the rear of the blanket where we could easily reach it later. I took her in my arms and pulled her body toward me. She eagerly responded and moved against me in a return embrace. My arms opened and my hands stretched downward to cup her ass and pull her hips closer.

I slipped her robe off and let it fall to the blanket. Then, I busied myself with the three bows she’d used to secure the bikini. The material was relieved of the stress, and both parts of the bikini floated to a pile on top of the robe. Her body glistened with the satin sheen formed from minute beads of perspiration in the morning heat. The sun reflected off her breasts as they jumped from their restraints. Her nipples were large, perfect and erect. The areola of each breast was a symbol of life to come. Her tummy was softly curved and blended from hip to hip and mound to navel. I wanted to explore the sight of that soft body bronze and taste the depth of her ‘inny’.

She eagerly responded to the soft pressure my erection communicated to her body as we stood there. She took the towel from my shoulders, dropped it in a pile on the blanket and then placed her palms, fingers spread, against the small of my back. Her hands moved as she stretched the waistband, her hands entered my swim trunks, and then began the slow journey to my own ass. She pulled me closer and a soft massage began as her hips began a slow rhythmic dance against my stomach Previously, as she’d lowered her hands, she’d hooked the band of my trunks with her thumbs. Now she began the task of gently removing them.

When at last I was free, while still standing she managed to trap me in the soft spread between her thighs. I’d been erect and eager for what seemed hours. When my trunks were released and fell, I’d stepped out of them, hooked them with a toe and kicked them to the blanket. Momentarily, my cock swung in an arc and my balls flew in the opposite direction. As they returned, her legs had completed the task. It felt good, warm, at home in that softness. She reached between us and around me to cup my balls. She felt the softness of my scrotum, and the swelling in my balls. She began another motion of her hips and my cock slid, caressing her own sexuality. It felt good to feel her lips fondle me and begin the slow motion entrance to her pussy.

I grew even harder as she worked, and the slow ache of ‘blue balls’ began its incessant climb into pain. Now her lips had been spread by both the action of her hips and my increased firmness. She was riding me now, and the hood of her clit was raised and being caressed by the top of my cock. She stroked me long, before each time moving to reinsert. Her body began to move faster and my own excitement was building. Somehow, she managed to completely trap me momentarily while she hopped up into my arms. As she hopped, my cock entered her, and then she settled back on it.

I was holding her on my hips, entrapped by my arms and with my hands supporting her by the ass. Her arms were around my neck and there was never a break in our kiss. She released my tongue for a moment and pulled her face away, she smiled knowingly at me, winked quickly, and again returned to a deepened kiss. She rode me the way a woman might expertly ride a mechanical bronc in a western bar, or the way a professional cowgirl would ride at a rodeo. I was rode hard and put away wet.

She climaxed again and again. At times, she’d pause while climaxing, and at other times the climax would only serve to amplify her effort. I could feel the warmth of her juices on my leg, after her last climax. I kneeled and lowered her until her bottom rested on the blanket and then I pulled away. I hadn’t climaxed, although the effort to prevent it was extreme. I crawled forward, rocked her back and then pulled her feet up to contain those escaping juices. And then I plunged my face into the sweet source of that dampness. I inhaled her scent deeply, scooped her juices with my tongue and tasted the sweet water of her climax. I laved her with my tongue. I’ve always liked the long hair of her pussy, but this time she’d shaved it for her bikini and the lips were as smooth and sweet as the finest butter. She bent her knees as I worked and dropped the calves of her legs over my shoulders.

I ran my tongue over her and into her. Finally, I used it to pull back the hood over her clit and make slow circles around it. My lips encircled her clit and I, too, began sucking while my tongue began a practiced sensual dance around and over it. In my pleasure, I managed to take her to the pinnacle of excitement and then push her over time and again. Her body was exhausted and trembling when I released her. Her mind was overpowered by sensation and she took moments to respond.

Suddenly, she sat up and thanked me and then climbed into my lap smiling. She told me that there was one other thing I had to do before I could rest. She climbed atop me and my still erect member. She glided onto me and turned animal. She fucked me again, but this time I finally released everything I had. There was a brief moment of pain as I released, but then a cloud of passion swept through and over me. She made a wonderful, gutteral sound as my cum filled her.

The warmth of my discharge caused her to climax again. This time it was more exciting than even the totality of the marathon we’d just completed. She hugged me and I could feel the comforting contractions of her inner muscles at work. We exchanged a long, lingering kiss of mutual pleasure.