Unexpected Threesome Ch. 55

Literotic asexstories – Unexpected Threesome Ch. 55 by Joanmcarthy,Joanmcarthy
It has been a while since I’ve added to the narrative of this story.

A tragedy has greatly changed its tragectory.

Those familiar with the story will understand the pain of the characters.

Thise not familiar can pick up from here.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I Amy.

It’s taken me six months to have the spirit or the will to sit down and continue our story.

Six months of pain and misery. Six months of unbearable grief.

Our story can no longer be our story. One of us is gone. The glue that held us together has dissolved and we came close to completely falling apart.

It was so unfair. So unreasonable. So unexpected.

We got through COVID. If we were diminished by the death of Ellen’s husband and the father of her children as he did his professional duty as a doctor on the front line of the pandemic, we came together to rebuild her life and bring us back together as one.

We got through Frank’s attempt to murder me and came out stronger for it.

Liddy finally came home from her exile in the US while COVID lockdowns kept her from us. For just a moment, we were one again.

It was so trivial. So every day.

Ned volunteered to pick his daughter in law — the wife of his eldest son John – up from day surgery after she’d had an operation under a general anaesthetic to have her wisdom teeth removed. They were half way home when an out of control truck came through a red light and demolished their car.

In one horrible moment, his son John became a widower and Ellen, Liddy and I became…what? Bereft certainly. Heart broken. Well more than heart broken. We were broken in spirit, mind and body. But society doesn’t even have a name for people in our situation.

The grief was unbearable.

The combined funeral was a flood of sobbing, heaving tears.

We’d all grown increasing close to Ned’s children and their families. They regularly came for Saturday morning teas and play dates with Ellen’s kids. In a way we’d all been completely absorbed into Ned’s family without the slightest hint of resentment; either that we were standing in the place of their deceased mother or that we — or at least Ellen and I — were even younger than some of them and screwing their dad.

Probably each of us long ago disclaiming any interest in Ned’s estate helped; but when Ned, without telling us, asked them if they’d mind if he changed his will to let us at least stay in the house for a number of years after he died, they agreed without hesitation. At the time, none of us thought that clause would come into operation until decades had passed.

At first it seemed that closeness with his family did nothing more than help smooth, to a small extent, the transitions required by their deaths. John’s immediate problem was dealing with both a very demanding job and the needs of his two kids; given his wife had been their main carer while John worked.

Ironically, John is the son most like his father. Since we’d first know him he seemed to be like a mini-me of his father. Mind you a mini me some 100cm (4 inches) taller than his father. He looks the same — minus a few decades – talks the same, thinks the same and dresses the same.

Since Ellen still had an au pair to help with her children, the simplest answer was for John to move in with us. The kids could share rooms down the far end of the house where Ellen’s kids and the au pair had hers and — while we offered him the main bedroom — he moved into what was previously Ned’s office.

Us three girls — notwithstanding her age, Liddy quite likes being called a girl — tried to live life as usual; absent of course the crazy wild sex life and wonderful, affirming companionship Ned offered us.

It wasn’t easy. Self-stimulation is so unsatisfying. Ellen and I had plenty of experience playing girl on girl sex for Ned’s benefit, so were pretty comfortable in doing it for our own benefit. But we’re definitely not gay and not even bi. It was better than doing it yourself, but no substitute for a good fucking from a male you love.

As for Liddy, well we offered to include her in the games, but she decided to play alone. A bit of girlie play in a threesome or foursome with a male involved was one thing for her. Straight out lesbian sex was more than she felt comfortable with.

And none of felt the slightest inclination to go male hunting. It was way too early for that; if it could ever not be, at least as far as I was concerned.

Some habits die hard, and one thing was the way we dressed around the house. Modesty had never been a priority. Indeed, given the need to keep Ned at his peak sexual interest, the sexualisation of our bodies with tiny bikinis and tight fitted clothing during the day and evening and morning wear of French knickers you could look up and camisoles you could see down, was pretty standard.

Since that was the only clothing we had, and even the au pair had adopted that standard in front of Ned, it never really occurred to us to change it. What had started as having a strong sexual basis had simply became the ordinary.

Having married early, John was probably seeing a greater variety of pussy and tits than he’d seen in his lifetime.

But being his father’s son he dealt with it with polite but complete equanimity.

John quickly fitted into the household. He was as accommodating and generous as his father. But he probably didn’t have to work that hard at it. After all, the household had always been as much influenced by Ned as it was by the girls. Regardless, in a comforting sort of way, the daily routine was much the same as it had always been. Friends working cooperatively to make the best of their lives.

For me at least, it sort of reminded me of the scene on the yacht while we were cruising the Pacific, acting as mere crew for Ned, before Issie and I made the decision to seduce him. Of course that was well before Ellen and Liddy came aboard.

As the months passed, we went through the seven stages of grieving. But eventually, the ability the laugh and enjoy life burst new green shoots from the shattered burnt out human remains of John and us three girls that the deaths had turned us into. There were even times diner conversation would turn to merriment in a way that reminded me so much of the times before Ned was torn from us.

We had to do that — to move on and find life again – to create a healthy environment for the kids, if for no other reason. But it was good for us too. Occasionally there’d still be sad thoughts, that was only human and in the case of the girls — and probably John too — a sense of sexual deprivation, but the sad thoughts ceased to completely dominate our lives.

The first inkling of a further change in our arrangements sort of started with an unintentional action — or maybe it wasn’t. Even though I was the one who did it, even I can’t say how deliberate it was. Well, clearly, there was some element of deliberate in it.

We were all still working from home; now John included.

I’d gone down to the pool for a swim in my lunch break. Over the years with Ned, our bikinis had got smaller and smaller in accordance with fashion. This one was getting down close to a full g string. A small, deeply plunging triangle at the front with a narrow band of material through my butt capped by a whale’s tail, instead of an elastic string. Personally I was never that keen on displaying my butt hole, so this provided the minimum cover necessary to cover it. The top was almost optional as far as I was concerned, but in this case I was wearing the matching top; as small as it was.

I saw John was already in the pool, doing his own lunch time laps. But that was of no concern. I simply got in and started mine; usually finding him trailing in my wake and wondering what sort of view he had. Actually, I knew exactly what view he had and, as far as I know, it was one quite attractive to males.

After a while he got out, partly dried himself and sat on the lounge, watching me, his towel across his lap.

I did a few more laps and got out, dripping wet, to sit alongside him. Not giving him any great warning of what I was about to do, he found himself with the arm that had been spread along the back of the lounge, now behind my back, my wet hair draped across it.

Him sitting there reminded me so much of Ned sitting in exactly the same place, with the same posture; lustfully watching us girls in the pool.

Almost without thinking, actually, really completely without thinking, I laid my head on his shoulder and said…

“You know, Ned used to sit here watching us swim.”

I think, just as intuitively, John moved his arm to my shoulder as he replied.

“I can understand why he might have enjoyed doing that.”

I sensed, because I didn’t want to look up and distract him, John was enjoying the view, looking down at my barely covered breasts and the bulge of my mons, highlighted as it was by the tiny triangle of my bikini pants which far from covered it.

He was certainly enjoying something. It had been obvious from the start that the towel over his lap was covering some sort of erection in his swimwear. But the movement under the towel made it clear it was getting bigger.

Somewhat presumptuously, I flipped the towel away, revealing what looked to me like a full boner; albeit one somewhat trapped within his speedos and directed at an awkward angle. As I would have thoughtlessly done for Ned, I stretched out the front of the speedos to let the erection adopt the pose nature intended for it; more or less vertically up his stomach…

“You know, you don’t need to be embarrassed about those. They’re just normal, especially given how Ellen and I dress. We sort of expect that to happen and we certainly won’t think less of you if it does. Indeed, we can be almost chuffed that we have that effect on you.”

“I thought you might think I was some sort of pervert.”

“No, you’re a male. And that’s how males react; more so when we’re all living together like we are.”

Without really thinking, I wrapped my hand around his spandex sheathed erection and started stroking it. It was something I’d done so often with Ned. It was almost like my mind was back in old times. I might have come to my senses and stopped it had he not immediately eased his head back and let out a deep moan of satisfaction.

Emboldened, I pulled the drawstring on his swimmers and exposed his erection, gliding my hand up and down it.

His moans — I don’t know I’d call it getting louder — but they seemed to draw from deeper and deeper within him, as if bringing back to the surface feelings long since buried by him. It was an incredibly short period before his cock was pulsing out cum, each rope of it rising about 300 millimetres (a foot) into the air before subsiding back onto my hand and his swimmers. It seemed to go on for quite a while and generate an awful lot of cum before it finally subsided to a number of dribbles…

“I’m sorry. I haven’t cum in six months. It was a bit hair trigger.”

I was surprised by that statement. It meant he hadn’t been self-pleasuring like Ellen and I had. Still, I wasn’t going to admit our less than innocent behaviour…

“Yes, it’s been really hard. Ned and I had a very active sex life and it’s difficult when it suddenly stops.”

I paused for a moment, finding courage for my next statement…

“Could you finger me too?”

I didn’t really wait for a reply. I lay across his lap, my hips on his thighs. I looked up at him, watching his eyes as he scanned my body. I knew it was a sight that would normally attract the male gaze. Ned had finally convinced me of that; undoing the decade of Frank’s body shaming of me. A slim figure, nice breasts, shapely legs, flat stomach and certainly what Ned lusted over the most, a nice, sexually suggestive mons bulge; at that moment not completely covered by a tiny bikini with a crease running through it. That at least it what was able to drive Ned crazy with lust. I sort of hoped it would have the same effect on his son.

He put his hand on my mons; resting it there momentarily, like he was trying to get the feel of it, before turning his hand, extending his finger and sliding it through my crease over the top of my bikini pants. I cooed in pleasure as he found the right spot.

I picked up his other hand and placed it on my breast; ensuring his fingers straddled the projecting nipple. I was aware that John wouldn’t know that I could have an orgasm on nipple stimulation alone. Still, any tweaking was better than none.

John kept his hands outside my swimwear, but certainly knew how to stimulate me even in that context. Mind you, it wasn’t a high hurdle to jump. It had been too long since a man’s hands had fondled me and somehow it being Ned’s son made it all the more effective.

Everyone knows I’m a sexual screamer; or at least anyone within hearing distance when Ned was indulging in sexual antics with me. I’d tried to tone it down a bit as Ellen and I met our sexual needs, mainly in deference to John’s presence in the house. Now, with a man in the form of Ned’s son fingering me, I couldn’t hold it back. Fortunately I came nearly as quickly as John had and fingering doesn’t get me nearly as worked up as the old g spot banger used to. But it would have definitely conveyed to him my enjoyment of his fingering, even if he might have been concerned what the neighbours thought.

I’d pinned his hand to my crotch when I’d lifted my hips as I’d cum. Even as my orgasm finished and I’d settled back across him lap, I held it there. I was in no hurry to get up, nor was I in any hurry to bring to an end his fondling of my breast and mons, even if he wasn’t still stimulating my clit.

I looked up at him. His eyes were staring at my breasts, or at least the one not partly covered by his hand. They scanned down across my stomach to my mons and I felt him move his hand deeper into my crotch to expose more of the mons to his view. I knew it was having an effect on him because his still exposed manhood had again become a rock hard erection standing up between my hips and his stomach.

My brain was filled with erotic thoughts and possibilities. But it wasn’t blind to dangers either. I decided I wasn’t going to be the one taking the risk of moving too fast. If John wanted more, I was happy to give it to him, but as much as I might have been tempted to throw him on the ground and fuck his cock off, I held it back.

As his eyes met mine, I smiled at him and brushed my spare hand across his chest, offering…

“Thank you. I think we both needed that.”

“In a way, more than you know. Dad was very lucky to have you girls as his partners. It made so much difference to his life.”

“He made a lot of difference to ours too you know.”

For more than a short moment, we just stared at each other; nether quite knowing what to say next, John’s gaze occasionally drawn down to cast his eyes back over my body; making his cock surge.

I was so tempted to regrasp his erection and, if the micro movement of his fingers in my crotch were any indication, he also found some desire not to surrender his playing with my sexual zones.

In the end, it was me who made the decision. Ice had definitely been broken. It was better to take the next step slowly. There were other parties involved and much emotional turmoil to be dealt with…

“I’d better get back to work.”

I sat up on his lap, then stood up. Bending down, I momentarily held his erection while I gave him a peck kiss on the cheek…

“It was a lovely moment. Maybe we can do it again. You might want to jump back in the pool to clean up your swimmers though.”

I walked back up the path to the house, wiggling my butt enough to give him a display without making it obvious I was doing so.

Naturally, I went and spilled the beans to Ellen about what had just happened.

Our normal after dinner and showers routine had always been to sit around in the lounge room either watching TV or just talking or playing games. There were two lounges in an L shape and in the old days Ellen and I would sit on one with Ned in between us, with the au pair on the other, with either or both of the au pair’s boyfriend — before she dumped him — or Liddy, joining her on that one on the rare occasion her night shift work left her at home and awake at this time of the evening.

In our evening clothes, Ned always had a good view of our tits as we sat alongside him in our plunging neck, loose fitted camisoles and an equally good view of the au pair’s pussy as she sat opposite in lose legged French knickers.

Three people on a couch was a cosy fit; ideal when Ellen, Ned and I shared it. But John instinctively felt it was a bit too cosy when he joined the household, so sat on the other lounge at a comfortable distance from the au pair.

Anyway, I’d taken a video on my phone of John and Ellen’s kids playing really nicely together during the day while they were at work in their offices. I’d sort of forgotten about it until the au pair mentioned the games. Picking up my phone, I mentioned the video and switched across to sit between the au pair and John to show him the video, with Ellen sitting initially on the arm of the lounge next to John to see it too.

As men do, John had been manspreading; his arms over the back of the couch. The au pair was far enough away not to be intimidated by that, but as Ellen and I suddenly surrounded him, he was trapped with his arms behind us.

That was compounded as Ellen squeezed herself down onto the seat proper, forcing John to shuffle closer to me to make the three of us a very tightly compacted unit.

I rested my elbow and forearm on John’s upper thigh as I held the phone where both he and Ellen could see it and started the video.

Until that night — well, actually, until the events by the pool earlier in the day – we had all been what you might call cautious and respectful about physical contact. For many years, social hugs had been the norm between Ned’s children, their spouses and his way too young lovers; the ordinary interactions you expect between a close and accepting family. And we always appreciated it. It would have been easy for his kids to treat us as ‘the other’, to be tolerated but not really accepted.

I don’t think I’d intended it to be sexual, but frankly, can’t really be sure of that. I had been experiencing a growing fondness of and attachment to John. He just reminded me so much of his father and there were times I actually had to remind myself it was not Ned I was dealing with. At the very least that would explain why I felt no inhibition about the closeness of that contact in the circumstances. And let’s face it, when a woman’s elbow is on your thigh with a next to nothing separation from where your cock rests in your pants, you have to call that intimate.

Friend level intimate maybe. But very good friend and intimate just the same.

As the three of us clucked over the videos and photos, I felt a slight push on the tip of my elbow. A quick, surreptitious diversion of my eyes from the phone to my elbow revealed an interesting sight. I caught Ellen’s eyes and with a quick flick backwards of my own, directed her to take a quick look back in the same direction.

She looked back at me and gave me a grin.

There was a full erection tenting up the material of John’s pants. I suspect he wasn’t aware of my elbow being touched. It may have only been the stretched material of his pants that touched it. And I don’t think he saw us looking back down at it; or if he did, hid it well.

As the video finished, I looked up at him to start a conversation about how well the kids were getting along and adjusting to their new situation, being careful to look straight into his eyes, but using that as an excuse to stay hunched over his thigh as I did so.

I had to be amused. He reminded me so much of Ned. He engaged in the conversation like any proud dad, but there was the look in his eye of a man who was trapped with no way out. He was displaying an erection in circumstances he probably thought he shouldn’t be; with three women sitting around him. For the moment, me being hunched across this thigh probably let him think it was hidden. But he was trapped. While I remained there it wasn’t going to go away. As soon as I moved back to my original seat, it would be on full public display.

Probably indoctrinated by the modern me too movement, he was oblivious to how ordinary — and probably even pleasing and somewhat flattering — Ellen and I regarded the display as being; especially since we had invaded his space to cause it.

And the thing was, he wasn’t the only one aroused. I became acutely aware I was enjoying the close physical contact as much as the evidence suggested he was. I knew my nipples had firmed enough to put on a fairly obvious high beam display in my camisole which would be in plain view to him. I also knew that wasn’t the only part of me reacting and wondered, if I went back and sat on my chair, he’d be able to interpret the up leg view he’d then have for what it was.

As the au pair excused herself and left for bed, Ellen and I stayed where we were, not even spreading into the space she had vacated, talking to John for another half hour.

By the time we all decided to go off to bed, I would have to admit, I was feeling quite randy. Had John tried to initiate something carnal, I would have been a willing participant. But he was his father’s son. That wasn’t going to happen. More so given the complexity of our household arrangements.

As I stripped naked and climbed into bed with Ellen that night, I had to ask…

“I’m starting to be really attracted to John. What about you?”

“Yes. If I had the chance to go and fuck him now, I would.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Well, we’re the ones who are going to have to take the initiative. John might have known his dad was fucking three women who made a habit of running around all but naked, but he’s going to have no idea of how to handle, or even start, a polygamous relationship.”

“What about if he wants a monogamous relationship and tries to carve one of us out.”

“We can’t control that. All we can do is agree between ourselves that we aren’t going to play games against each other. That our objective is to make it polygamous and if John really forces a monogamous one, we won’t white ant each other.”

“So, how do we start it?”

“I think all we can really do is invite him into our bed.”

“Should we do it now?”

“That’s quick. I was thinking tomorrow. Still, it’s a Friday night, we don’t have to work tomorrow, why not?”

“What about Liddy?”

“I don’t know. That’s a bridge we’re going to have to cross. Of course, we’re happy to include her, but given her age, John might have different ideas. But I don’t see it as a reason we shouldn’t give it a go.”

“Will we go and ask him?”

“OK, let’s do it.”

As we climbed back out of bed, I wondered, as I’m sure did Ellen, whether we should put our pre-bed clothes back on. They might be minimal, but walking into John’s bedroom completely naked only gave one message. I decided it was the message I wanted and, since Ellen didn’t raise the issue, she must have too.

Since John’s door was closed, we tapped lightly on it, announcing both our presences…

“John, can we come in? We want to ask you something.”

When we heard his acknowledgement, we opened it to a darkened room. To avoid beating around the bush and make our intent obvious, I turned on the light. If we were here naked, he might as well appreciate the view.

We boldly went and sat down either side of the queen sized bed he was in the centre of, covered only by a sheet; one that failed to hide there was still an erection under there. He probably hadn’t expected us to turn on the light.

I was the one who asked the question…

“John. Would you like to come and sleep with us?”

John looked at us a bit askance. For a minute I thought he might reject us as a pair of harlots. You could almost see his brain process a suggestion that had probably been beyond his comprehension. But finally he stuttered…

“Ar. That would be nice.”

Not wasting a second, Ellen flicked back the sheet revealing him dressed in nothing more than a pair of undies not fully able to contain the erection poking from the waistband and offered him a hand to help him get up. As she walked him to the foot of the bed, I stood in their way…

“You won’t need these.”

Boldly, I dropped his undies to the floor, letting him step out of them before tossing them on his bed.

I can’t deny, it was an awkward walk from the guest wing where John’s bedroom was, through the now darkened living area down to the master bedroom in its own wing. It was no less awkward as we climbed into the bed. A threesome presents all sorts of problems getting started that are easily resolved by a good pash when there’s only two of you.

At least stripping him of his undies made it clear this was about sex instead of an simple intent to share a bed for sleep. We laid John down in the middle of the bed and Ellen and I each half covered him with our bodies.

I figured we had to take control of this, assuming John wouldn’t know how to handle the situation. We also couldn’t make assumptions about the variety of sex he was familiar with. So we needed to start with something simple. I looked across to Ellen…

“Wada you reckon? Do we start with the big A or take cowgirl turns?”

The big A was our name for one riding him cowgirl while the other sat on his face getting clit tongued while facing the other one so they could play with each other’s tits and even, if they were feeling bold, have a pash. But it means the guy basically has his nose stuck in the facesitter’s arse, so probably wasn’t the best start.

“I think cowgirl turns. It might have been a while for him so he might go off prematurely, but he can finger us to finish if he does. We have to start somewhere. Wada you reckon John? Are you happy for us to take turns riding you?”

“If that’s what you like.”

Yes, he was just like his dad.

While we still were laying on top of John, I continued, looking at Ellen…

“Paper, scissors, rock?”

She nodded in agreement. Unfortunately, I lost; but I suppose that was only fair considering I’d got fingered during the day.

As Ellen straddled him John asked…

“Do I need a condom?”

Ellen looked down at him in her best doctorly manner…

“I think it was a year ago, in some far too intimate discussion after a few drinks, you let us known both you and your wife were virgins when you first met. And the relationships with Ned have always been preceded by a medical clearance for STI’s. So we can assume STI’s aren’t an issue and I can assure you both of us are protected against pregnancies. So I think we can safely proceed without condoms.”

She didn’t wait any longer before lifting his erection up, guiding it to her vaginal opening and sitting down on it.

Ellen rode him gently enough, bending back so she could stimulate her g spot, then bringing his hand up to finger her clit as she did it.

We were all feeling sexually deprived and Ellen went off remarkably quickly, throwing herself back over John to bring her into full body contact as she rode out her orgasm. When she’d seen that through, it was almost in a businesslike manner she dismounted John and moved aside for me to mount him.

The deal between the girls has always been that the first one grips him loosely, to minimise the likelihood of triggering a premature ejaculation. The second one (or last one if there were three of us) then gets to take the cum shot.

Ellen has never been a sexual screamer — apart from one or two special occasions. She moans seductively — very seductively – but can even suppress that if she has to.

I’m notoriously one. A completely over the top, uncontrollable one; the volume partly depending on the point of stimulation and number of orgasms. Fingering and nipple orgasms are the least noisy. G spot ones the loudest.

The whole point of cow girls is to get g spot stimulation. I don’t know what his wife was like, but John was about to be introduced to the real meaning of a sexual screamer and it wasn’t me just putting it on.

Like Ellen, I straddled him, lifted myself up and guided his erection into my vaginal opening. The feeling as his erection penetrated my body was exquisite. There is no plastic substitute for a man’s erection and there never can be. Not just any man’s erection. I’ve never been an ‘any erection’ girl; nothing like it. When he was alive, it had to be Ned and only Ned.

But the erection penetrating me was that of his son; the apple of his eye. It that moment, it was a worthy substitute. I moaned a moan of deep satisfaction as his swollen manhood pleasurably filled a yearning void in my body.

Like Ellen, I brought John’s hand up to finger my clit. Unlike Ellen, I have a very shallowly located g spot. To avoid popping out or bending his erection, I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft to support and hold it firmly against my g spot as slowly rose and fell on it.

It triggered feelings and sensations I hadn’t come close to feeling in the last six months. That initial little moan of penetration soon became a rolling, louder moan of sheer erotic joy. As I got more excited the moans got louder still. When I say I’m a screamer, I don’t mean the sort of screams that a girl would make if trapped and threatened in a dark alley. I mean moans and expressions of such pleasure that they get loud enough to reach a high pitched screaming register.

I was screaming within two minutes of his first penetration of me; filled with a sense of erotic bliss and pleasure that I thought I would never feel again. It grew and grew until it released itself in a massive — and very loud – climax. I deeply penetrated him and threw myself down on John, holding him tightly as I squirmed and twisted myself against his beautiful body in my orgasmic intensity.

As my climax subsided, I rolled him over on top of me, put my hands on his butt and made it really clear it was time for him to go to town on me for his own pleasure. Still gripping him loosely, I just hoped he had enough endurance to get me to the second scene of this play.

As his father liked to do, he raised himself on outstretched arms, looking down at my breasts as he started thrusting.

Almost immediately he had me moaning again. Most women don’t have mere ‘vaginal’ orgasms. It seems that, like with my ability to have nipple orgasms, I can. Already highly aroused and sexualised by my first climax, it took only that few initial thrusts from John to start me on the arousal path to another.

I knew as I started screaming again, I’d have to keep driving his thrusts with the hands I had on his butt or he’d think he’d have to stop for fear of hurting me. Drive I did until that orgasm noisily broke on me too.

Only then did I grip him properly, still driving him with my hands. His thrusts simply prolonged the orgasm that preceded it, but I could sense John positioning himself for his own climax. His thrusts got longer and his withdrawals raked heavily across the pelvic floor muscle at the front of my vaginal opening. He started grunting; in no way matching my own vocal responses but clearly uninhibited because of them.

His thrusts got harder, or let’s say more enthusiastic; still encouraged by my pumping hands.

With an almighty grunt, he started cumming. I felt it, I felt his seed pumping into my body, and it drove me to another very noisy, hip throwing, orgasm; probably more emotional than physical, but no less intense or quiet for it.

John collapsed his body down onto mine, groaning into the pillow next to my head as his own orgasm ran its course; jerking his shaft into me occasionally, seemingly as a way of prolonging his pleasure.

As soon as it was over he whispered into my ear…

“I don’t want to crush you.”

He rolled us back over towards Ellen, still penetrated in me, leaving me back on top.

While he still had a firm enough erection, I was going to leave it where it was. But I did move my head and shoulder to the opposite side of his from Ellen, leaving only my lower body covering his torso where he penetrated me. Ellen rested her chin on John’s shoulder…

“Did you know Amy was such a screamer?”

“I’d heard uncorroborated rumours, but I admit, I couldn’t have imagined what that actually meant.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Only to the extent it makes me worry I might be hurting her. But Amy sort of made it clear with her hands that wasn’t an issue. And I suppose I worry about others in the house.”

“The others in the house have heard it before. It’s a running joke with my au pair. And my kids know it’s just aunty Amy having fun.”

“Do you like sex?”

“Ahmm…yes.”

“A lot of it?”

“What do you mean by a lot of it?”

“Say, a couple of times a day.”

“That’s more than I’m used to.”

“I don’t doubt it. But are you likely to be up for it?”

“‘Up for it’ is an interesting way of putting it. But I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Yea, well, keeping it up is at least part of the reason Amy and I got into the habit of running around in barely any clothes all day when we’re at home. A good cock is a stiff cock at any time of day and we figure one that’s stiff a lot of the time probably is more likely to want a way of releasing its frustration.”

“So you’ve noticed your manner of dress has an effect on me?”

“Let’s just say we keep an eye on it and would have been disappointed if we didn’t have some effect.”

John’s erection was by that time starting to soften. I slid off his hips, releasing what was left of his erection from my body and no doubt dampening the bed with the cum discharged from my vagina. It had been a long time since we’d had cum stains on the sheets; but it was nothing new.

Ellen watched my dismount, then turned back to John…

“Do you like morning sex?”

“I suppose so, although I’m more used to doing it in the evening.”

“Well, we’re likely to give you some practice at morning sex tomorrow. But we’ll ease you into the idea with some easy sex this time. I hope that’s OK.”

Without waiting for or expecting an answer, Ellen kissed him on the side of the cheek…

“We’d better let you get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Unlike we might have with Ned, we physically separated to go to sleep. In the king size bed there was easily room for the three of us. With Ned, the three of us would have been wrapped into a tight, high contact, ball.

With John, on this first night, there was no contact at all. Nor, I reflected as I drifted off to sleep, had there been any kissing; not really counting Ellen’s momentary peck on his cheek.

I think the problem for all of us was a conflict of loyalties between what we still felt for the deceased, and those survivors we were now engaged with. Sex is one thing. Finding and accepting love is completely another, and deep, prolonged kissing, somehow, is an act of love even more so than, well, to be blunt, fucking.

It was something I pondered as I drifted off to a deep sleep.

As is often the case, I was the first awake. I knew John was also an early waker because he usually went on my morning run with me. But as I turned towards him, he gave every indication of still being asleep. He was on his side facing me, but the drape of the sheet across his hips made it clear he had a very full morning glory.

The sheets had been thrown off his chest and there was a lovely display of a very strong, masculine chest; a little bit due I might add to the fact he had been willing to join me in my morning run and exercise; the exercise bars at the park we run too doing wonders for his physique.

Had Ellen not specifically announced we’d be having morning sex, I might have just got up and got ready for my — or our – run. Not because I didn’t want morning sex, but because I was willing to let whatever was going to happen with our relationship with John develop organically.

Feeling a bit restless, I reached over and stroked John’s erection. It surged to my touch and John slowly opened his eyes…

“Good morning.”

I shuffled against his body, trapping his erection against my stomach as he replied…

“Hi.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Beautifully. Better than I have in a long while.”

“Me too. It’s nice what some good sex can do for you.”

I had been pondering what move to make. If we’re going to have sex, it’s Ellen’s turn for the cum shot; which means I go first. I figured I might as well get things started; bearing in mind it had to be low effort sex on his part. That sort of eliminated a g spot banger.

Throwing the sheet off his lower torso — and fully exposing Ellen’s naked body in the process – I bent his erection down between my legs and penetrated myself with it before asking…

“Is that OK.”

“Yes, but what happens now?”

“Well, we can either lie here like this or you can suck my nipples if you’d like. In fact, why don’t you suck my nipples?”

I brought my hand behind his head and half pulled, half guided his head into my breasts. He extended his tongue and licked the upper one, a bit of pressure on the back of his head inducing him to take it into his mouth and start sucking it while twirling his tongue against the extended hard nipple and swollen areola in his mouth. When I hummed in pleasure, he brought his hand up to play with my lower breast.

I figured he might as well learn how easy it was for him to give me a nipple orgasm. It might not be the most mind blowing orgasm for me, but it was good enough for this morning.

I half twisted my upper torso back to give him easier access to my lower breast while not interfering with his penetration of me. It required him in turn to bend his upper torso over me, forcing a degree of higher intimacy into the way our bodies melded.

John responded to my moans of pleasure by ever more intensely stimulating my nipples, especially with his lips and tongue.

It definitely caught him by surprise when I came, pushing my hips harder against his and grinding his erection around inside my body; all while making enough noise to make sure Ellen was awake and ready to receive him when I was finished with him.

I was still panting heavily when Ellen’s head appeared resting on John’s shoulder…

“Are you finished with him?”

“Yes. For now.”

With a hand on his shoulder, Ellen tugged at him to get him to roll towards her, pulling his erection from my body in the process. Like I had, she had him penetrate her while they were both on their side, but immediately rolled him into a missionary position with him on top and, I quickly noticed, a small pillow under her butt.

It was a credit to John that he hesitated, asking Ellen…

“What about you?”

“It’ll work for me if you don’t go off too quickly.”

I saw the hands she had on his butt, pull him in tighter to her, signalling it was time to get on with it. That was probably more subtle than the smack on his butt he’d get if he pussy footed around too much. Still, that would be a lesson he’d learn soon enough.

As I had a perfect side on view of Ellen and John having sex, I noticed John was taking a lot of his weight on his elbows and knees and, instead of lifting himself on outstretched arms, was gliding his body over the top of Ellen’s in a way that stimulated her hard, extended nipples with his chest.

Ellen is nothing like the screamer I am. But there was no missing the fact that John’s banging of her was having the intended effect. Her climax was more indicated by a loud hissing moan than some sort of cry; but that and the intense and very forceful grinding of her hips against John’s made it clear enough he’d succeeded.

Somewhat theatrically, and very much in her nature, Ellen then threw her arms out to the side, opened her legs a bit wider and announced…

“OK, your turn.”

There was a grin on John’s face as he now lifted himself up on his arms. But actually his facial expressions made for interesting viewing. Like he had with me, he started staring at Ellen’s breasts as he got serious about banging away at her for his own pleasure. The grin morphed into a look of intense concentration, his jaw sort of hanging there half open as he started grunting.

His thrusts were getting longer, faster and, it looked to me, a little harder as his grunts got louder.

And then, the whole progression of his orgasm was interrupted as Ellen came again. Quite powerfully by the look and sound of it. She threw her hips up –lifting John with them — as she let out what was for Ellen, quite a loud moan followed by more hissing than you’d get in a snake zoo.

John eyes flashed open and his head lifted in a way that made it clear he’d been taken aghast by this development.

I could see I was going to have to give him some background on why both Ellen and I respond o sex in this position in unexpected ways.

But his surprise was momentary. Almost immediately it was like his eyes bulged out as his mouth formed into that tight pre-orgasmic circle as he let out a series of ‘ooohhh’s’ with every additional thrust. I could only guess that Ellen had started tightening her grip on him to powerful effect.

The ‘ooohhh’s’ got louder and more intense, the thrusting faster as he worked himself up to his climax, his very cute butt lifting and dropping teasingly as he pounded Ellen in his final moments of pre-orgasmic lust.

The ‘AAAhhhh’ as he first came and the repeated ones that seemed to align with very subsequent pulse of cum he ejaculated into Ellen, were loud enough to wake the rest of the household; however big the house might be. Lucky we’d long ago installed heavy, sound buffering doors down to the end of the house with the kids and au pair.

Like he had with me, he collapsed down onto Ellen, continuing to groan as he jerked and mini thrust his cock into her, until he was left a spent, panting blob on top of her.

I gave him a minute to enjoy himself before kneeling on the bed next to him and physically rolling him off Ellen; watching as his erection slid out of Ellen and flopped onto his stomach as he landed on his back…

“OK. I hope you haven’t worn yourself out. It’s time to go for our run.”

I stood up and, sort of pulled him to a standing position off the bed before looking back to Ellen, asking…

“Are you coming?”

“You could say I already have. But no not today.”

That was not unexpected. Ellen only tends to join us about a third of the time.

I turned back to John; standing next to me with his erection still standing proud…

“OK, do you want to go and get dressed?”

As he left the room, I put on my running outfit. As much as I would have liked it to be just a bikini, if I’m doing serious running I need a bit more breast support, so compromise with the smallest, most cut away but still effective sports bra I could find with a matching pair of mini, body conforming, stretch gym shorts. As far as I can tell from the bulge it usually puts in his pants, it still provides more than a small degree of entertainment to John. It certainly did to Ned.

When we met in the courtyard, John was in his speedos and runners. It had taken me a while to reduce him down to speedos. His natural inclination had been running pants. But, as I explained and demonstrated over the months — especially the warmer ones — if we go for a dip in Pittwater at the end of the trail, speedos are far more practical. He thought he could get away with wearing them under his running shorts, but that only made it more likely his chaff on the damp leg seam of the running shorts as we ran back.

So in the end, he surrendered to my suggestion. Maybe one day I can let him know it was really because I enjoyed watching his butt and cock as he ran in his speedos as much as I knew he got off watching me running my gear.

We were half way down the hill when I got the courage to raise the topic that I wanted to cover off with him. People say I can be very up front on issues sometimes, and I suppose this is one of those times…

“Do you want to know why both Ellen and I can climax in the missionary position?”

I had been watching John face as I asked. He blushed a little…

“I had been wondering about that.”

“When you get to finger her, or even have a good look, you’ll see Ellen’s aroused clit is a fair bit bigger than most women’s and positioned a bit closer to her vagina. So it doesn’t take too much in terms of angle for it to both rub against a thrusting cock and get stimulated by a moving penetrated one.

As for me? I don’t know. I seem to be in that really small percentage of women who can have vaginal orgasms. That doesn’t mean g spot ones, although I can react pretty powerfully to that too. It means that I can just get off if the right guy is banging away at me.

And you might have noticed I can have nipple orgasms too.”

John probably didn’t realise the true significance of my ‘right guy’ comment. It my 10 years of abusive relationship with Frank, I never had any orgasm at all. The ‘right guy’ comment was really important to me. Until last night, the only right guy had been Ned. Now John had been added to it. I pushed my luck further by asking…

“What are your favourite sex positions?”

John blushed more deeply…

“Jane and I were fairly conventional. Sort of reverse missionary for her and then missionary for me to finish. I’m not sure we had a favourite. That’s just what we did.”

“Are you willing to experiment a bit?”

“I suppose so. You’ll need to tell me what to do though”

“What about threesomes? Are you OK with that?”

“I think my biggest fear is getting it wrong and offending someone, or even just climaxing prematurely. But you’re both beautiful and wonderful women. It’s an incredible privilege to be able to make love to you.”

“We understand that fear. We know it’s up to us to make it work.”

I figured I’d pushed my luck far enough at that point. I’d laid some groundwork for what might lie ahead. I changed the topic as we kept running; wondering when the question of ‘love’ would come into the equation…

“I’ll race you to the bottom.”

I sprinted ahead of him. I didn’t really care about the race. I knew he’d enjoy running behind me and I put on the best butt display I could while not inhibiting my pace. At this stage I still had the fitness advantage over him. But as he became fitter I knew his male advantage would win out. For now he’d be happy to trail in my wake and I didn’t even need to use 100% of my ability.