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.
