Soulmates
 

 by: Hankster

© 2019 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

hankster@tickiestories.us

Chapter 6
The Soldier

The horrible way Reggie and I died in our incarnation aboard the USS Maine, broke me up so completely, that I wouldn’t attempt another regression for nearly a year.  Reggie, of course, was anxious for more fodder for his book, but I couldn’t face another disaster.  It seemed that Reggie and I, although we were soulmates, never had happy lives together.

I began to have an obsession.  Whenever Reggie came home a little late, or didn’t answer his phone, I imagined him lying dead under a bus, and I would sob uncontrollably.  He’d come home and find me crying, and he would envelop me in his brawny arms and calm me down.

But as we all know, time is a great healer.  I began a period of rationalization.  I convinced myself that I had no proof of these past-lives, and they could well have been conjured up by my overactive imagination.  Finally, after sufficient time had passed, I agreed to be regressed.

Because of my unreasonable fears, Reggie decided to get me relaxed other than by meditation.  Instead, we made wild, abandoned love, until we were both totally exhausted.  I turned on my back in our bed and Reggie started his guided tour.

“Leave The Maine.  Don’t look back,” he instructed me.  “Get into your time machine and propel yourself forward.  Let’s see what’s next for you, for us.”

I got myself really comfortable in my imaginary time machine and started another journey.  The machine stopped and I stepped out.  I tried to get my bearings, and it came to me quickly.  I was on a crowded boulevard, and everyone was speaking French.  All the pedestrians seemed to be in a festive mood, and I could see Christmas decorations in some of the shop windows.  I was in Paris.

I was a nineteen year old doughboy in Uncle Sam’s army.  The armistice had been signed a month earlier on November 11, 1918.  No wonder everyone was celebrating.  I wandered aimlessly among the crowd.  Young Parisian women were practically accosting me.  They all wanted to kiss the liberator, and maybe they wanted more.  I wasn’t interested.  I wanted a willing Parisian boy, and I wanted one badly.  As in all my previous incarnations, I realized that I was homosexual, and I knew I would meet Reggie soon.  The supernatural time machine that I had created, hadn’t failed me yet.

I found myself wandering into a small bistro.  I decided to celebrate the Armistice with this jovial crowd, and not wander aimlessly, and alone, on the streets of Paris.  Most of the patrons were drinking wine.  I wanted a beer, but nobody seemed to be drinking beer.  Instinctively, I knew why.  The invading German’s drank beer constantly, and these Frenchman were trying to erase the Germans from their memories.  It was a time to be cheerful, not fearful and sad.

I made my way to the bar with the intention of ordering a glass of wine.  I knew nothing about wines.  I was going to leave it to the bartender.  A young American soldier was ordering a glass of wine in perfect French.  I nearly flipped when I saw him.  He reminded me so much of Reggie.  I was compelled to strike up a conversation with him.

“Hey, soldier,” I said.  “I don’t speak a word of French.  I’d be most appreciative if you ordered a glass of wine for me.”

“Sure,” he said.  “The first one’s on me.  You can get the next round.”

“I will,” I promised.

I stuck out my hand and said, “Let me introduce myself.  I’m Private First class, Roger Richardson; home town, Brooklyn, NY.”

The soldier shook my hand, and said, “My name’s Corporal Remi Montclair; home town, Queens, NY.  We’re fucking neighbors.”

“How is it you speak French so well?  I’m not getting by at all on my high school French.” 

“I’m from a French family.  The only language spoken at home was French.  I’m bi-lingual, so stick to me Rog, and we’ll be just fine together.”

I know that what happened next was caused by what I said, but I forgave myself because I didn’t really say it, Roger did.  Roger (I) turned to Remi and said, “I’d love to stick to you, Remi, in every way possible.”

I readied myself for a fist in my face, so imagine my surprise when Remi asked me, “Where are you staying tonight?”

“I thought I’d return to the base.”

“I took a room at the hotel next door.  Would you like to shack up with me tonight?”

Just then the bartender brought my wine. Remi paid for both drinks and we looked around.  A couple was just getting up, and we ran to claim the table.  When we were seated, I put my hand on Remi’s knee and said, “Remi, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to shack up with you tonight.”

“Is it your intention to make me very happy?”

“No!  It’s my intention to make both of us very happy.”

“I think we’re going to be great friends, not only here, but back home.”

“I feel the same way,” I said.

“Let’s finish our wine.  That should help us to relax and get over any jitters either of us might have.  Then let’s head for the hotel.”

We entered Remi’s room, and he locked the door.  The furniture was old and the sheets looked like they had been washed a thousand times.  They certainly had seen better days.  Still, the room was clean.  No matter; hygiene didn’t much interest either of us at the moment.

Remi stripped even faster than I did.  When we stood facing each other, ogling our uncut, hard, seven inch cocks, something compelled me to say, “I feel like I have known you a million years.”

“That’s strange,” he said.  “I feel the same way.”

We fell into each other’s arms.  We held very close for a while, just enjoying this moment of intimacy.  At last our lips met, and then our tongues.  Before we even fell on the bed, our tongues were making love.”

Then we both began to sigh so loudly, I’m sure they heard us back home.  One of our hands continued to hold on tight to one another, while the other hand wandered down to our cocks.  We gently played with each other, rolling our cocks in our hands, purring and whimpering and sighing ever louder.

Finally, Remi threw me on the bed, and not too gently.  He rolled me over on my back and spread my legs.  Tiny little sobs came out of me as he buried his face in my crotch.  After only a few strokes of his fornicating tongue, I came.  It was so sudden, so unexpected, that I had no time to warn him.  It didn’t matter, he drank every last drop.  Then he crept up to lie side by side with me, and our kissing resumed.

After a while Remi jumped out of bed.  He ran to the dresser, and opened the top drawer.  He pulled out a jar of lubricant, and asked, “May I fuck you?”

“You may; now and for the next million years,” I answered.  I was embarrassed at how dramatic I was being.

For the next two days, we hardly left the bed.  We got each other off orally and anally so many times, I doubt either of us could tell you how many times.  All good things must come to an end, or so I’ve been told.  Both of us had to return to the base.  We were both being sent stateside for discharge.  

We were on the same troop ship going home, and we both received our discharges at The Brooklyn Navy Yard.  We had no opportunity to be intimate, but you can bet your pensions that we stayed in close contact.

My regression allowed me to see far into the future of the incarnation I had entered.  I enrolled in City College, and after that I went to Fordham Law School.  Remi went to work in the family business; a French restaurant, of course.  He was the one making a living during the years I went to school.  He rented a small apartment on the Brooklyn/Queens border, and we moved in together.  Those were blissful years.  After I began to make a good living, we moved to a large, free standing home in an upscale section of Nassau County.

I am happy to say, that we had a long, happy life together.  We both died in 1988.  Remi was ninety when he passed.  I died two month later.  I was eighty-nine.

Reggie and I were born a week apart in 1990.  The timing seemed appropriate, but I couldn’t help wonder where we were during those two years between incarnations.  It made me consider trying to get there in my ethereal time machine, if it were possible.

Reggie woke me from my semi-trance.

“You’re grinning from ear to ear,” he said.  “What gives?”

I grabbed him and started kissing him.  “The curse is broken,” I told him.  “Based on this regression, we lived long, happy, faithful, fruitful, lives.  I have more optimism for our present lives now.”

Reggie shut the lights in our bedroom, and the next thing I knew he was laying on top of me, rubbing our naked cocks together. 

To be continued …

Posted: 02/15/19