Literotic asexstories – Unexpected Threesome Ch. 58 by Joanmcarthy,Joanmcarthy
When I woke up, I had this slight sense of things being out of place.
Amy, next to me, was dead to the world, in a sound sleep. Normally she’s the one shaking me awake to go for our morning run. But she had a very late night dealing with a work project. I knew she hadn’t come to bed until something like 2 am. I don’t know how she can still get her brain to work that late. I certainly can’t.
Of course, Ellen had taken advantage of the situation to get herself a one on one fuck. Nothing wild, unless you call their ‘go the animal’ sex wild; which is really just missionary position sex delivered with all the enthusiasm that all the lust I can feel for her can deliver. And I can tell you, that’s a fair amount of lust. Lucky Ellen isn’t as much of a screamer as Amy is or we would likely have distracted Amy from her work.
But Ellen, who was normally a later sleeper, was now missing from the other side of me. I knew she’d had a call from the au pair looking after her kids down the other end of the house about midnight. That happens occasionally — fortunately fairly rarely – and she sometimes needs to sleep down the other end with one of her kids to pacify them.
What wasn’t unusual was the skin stretching morning glory my cock was experiencing; not helped in the slightest by Amy’s naked and uncovered body lying next to me. Sex the night before — however good it is – doesn’t do anything to supress a morning glory. It might even make it harder and it certainly makes it stickier.
I crawled out of bed on the side away from Amy as quietly and with as little fuss as I could. She certainly needed her sleep.
Selecting a clean pair of swim briefs — which the girls have designated as the standard warm weather house dress for males – of which I’m the only one — I stood perving at Amy’s prone body as I pulled them up my legs and stretched them over the erection bisecting my stomach, pulling the waistband down to leave the erection as a spandex sheathed tower reaching almost to my navel.
I am still getting used to all this; by which I mean the sexualised environment in which I seem to have landed. It’s not just the six monastic months I’ve spent grieving for the death of both my wife and father in a car accident. And it’s not as though I didn’t see a lot of my wife naked. It’s just that my previous marital relationship was, shall we say, more conventional.
I didn’t get out of bed every morning to see a stunningly attractive naked woman, lying uncovered and asleep; two of them when Ellen’s there too.
And there’s something hyper-sexualised about Amy’s body; her breasts, her nipples, her mons, just the sheer beautiful perfection of every aspect of her body.
My manhood ached with a desire to make love to her. Hell, that’s way too polite a way of describing it. It ached with a desire to fuck her. But there was no way I was going to disturb her, whatever my cock was saying.
There is one very nice thing I’ve discovered about swim briefs — a garment I’d barely worn before the girls mandated them. They really feel incredibly nice, in a very erotic, prick teasing sort of way, over an erection; and especially, for some reason, a morning glory. Before, putting normal undies on would more or less kill the morning glory if it hadn’t already died.
Somehow the swimmers didn’t do that; although looking down at naked beautiful women as I put them on probably helped. But now, combined with a large degree of randiness, it was nice enough that it was difficult to resist the temptation to wrap a hand around it and playfully pleasure it a bit.
Which is what I’d started doing as I turned and left the room, even going far enough to stick my hand down the briefs, realign my erection into what the girls call a ‘full horizontal’ (a full erection which the spandex sheathing is holding down in a horizontal position) and play with it again; shuddering with the mild pleasure and looking down at it and admiring the way the bell inflated as I surged it, as I walked to the kitchen.
Which is when I looked up and saw Ellen, just coming out of the kitchen, standing there stark naked, watching me.
I blushed red as I realised I’d been caught. Taking my hand away barely changed anything really; just made me look more guilty.
Ellen grinned at me, quickly closing the gap between us before momentarily grabbing the projection with her own hand to guide it between her legs as she embraced me face to face with her arms lightly around the small of my back…
“Feeling a bit randy are we? You know either of us is willing to offer a cure for that, don’t you.”
I couldn’t help myself. I found the length of my erection surging powerfully up against her crease where she’d placed it; something not helped at all by the radiated warmth from her crease that permeated the thin, tautly stretched material of my swimmers.
“It’s just a morning glory that hasn’t gone down yet.”
“It wasn’t likely to if you kept paying with it like that.”
“I didn’t know anyone was watching.”
“Clearly. It was lucky it wasn’t the au pair who took the stuff out to the kitchen. Anyhow, what does anyone watching have to do with the suppression of a morning glory. As I said, there are two lustful youngish women more than willing to deal with it for you.”
“Amy’s asleep and you were down the other end of the house.”
I could see Ellen was in one of her playfully challenging moods…
“And you couldn’t wait?”
“I wasn’t going to jerk it off. Just enjoy a bit of playing with it while it was there. Anyhow, I’m not sure I’m entitled to ask for sex just because I’m feeling a bit randy or have a morning glory.”
The warmth that had radiated through from Ellen’s crease was starting to become quite damp…
“That’s very noble of you; although I thought the male standard operandi was to ask for sex whenever they felt like it.”
She raised her eyebrows as she added…
“Sometimes quite randomly actually, given the number of times Amy and I get hit on. Anyway, we’ve had that talk; always ask.”
“I think that’s a bit of a generalisation about men. But, in any case, it was just a morning glory.”
“A morning glory that’s quite excited if that surging into my vulva is any guide. It definitely needs attention.”
There was an enormous grin on Ellen’s face as she took my hand and led me down the corridor opposite the kitchen door, past Amy’s office and into what had been my bedroom prior to me joining the girls in their bedroom.
When we got there, she backed me up against the bed and stripped me off before encouraging me to lay back on the bed and crawl fully onto it.
Ellen came over the top of me and lay on top of me, spreading her legs outside mine, then wiggling about until she had my erection entering her vagina. She slid down on me, fully penetrating herself on my shaft…
“There. Doesn’t that feel much better than a hand?”
I know I blushed again as I felt like a teenage boy being caught by his mother jerking off.
“Yes it does.”
“Good. Is it in a hurry?”
“A hurry for what?”
“Oh my goodness. We are a bit slow this morning. Missing that run with Amy is retarding your brain. In a hurry to dump its load.”
“No, the intention never was to dump a load.”
“Well, I’m sure we can change that intention, but I’m glad to hear it’s not in a hurry. It means we can take our time.”
Ellen nuzzled my cheek before lightly biting my neck. I could feel her dragging her nipples across my chest and screwing my erection about inside her as her body moved to facilitate her gentle assault on my head and neck.
With my arms embracing the small of her back, I simply laid back and enjoyed it; just rubbing my cheek against hers when she positioned her head where it would let me do that.
Ellen was certainly not in a hurry.
We’re all feeling our way a bit at this early moment of our sexual arrangements. It’s not really the sex that’s the issue; we’re well past that point. It is what goes with it. Lots of intimate body contact is OK too; that was what Ellen was doing this morning.
Where things get a bit sticky is when it comes down to really passionate kissing. None of us have forgotten that a mere six months ago — before the car accident – we had partners who we dearly loved. Their loss still burdens us all. And I certainly feel, and from their reactions, I think so do the girls, that passionate kissing involves… I always struggle for the right word. I think it’s love; a deep passionate love.
I do love the girls, and yet I still have a feeling that I owe my first love to my deceased wife. And I’m pretty sure the girls feel the same about Ned. And that maybe really passionate kissing is cheating on our deceased partners; at least this early.
Amy, overcome by a post sex oxytocin rush, passionately kissed me once; and for more than a brief period. But that was a spur of the moment thing.
Pre sex, or during sex, our desires might be running hot but, strange though it might seem when we’re fucking like rabbits, somehow full on French kissing is going too far.
Regardless, neither of us went for thrusting our tongue into the mouth of the other. There was lots of neck biting, cheek caressing and even, when Ellen’s positioning permitted, nipple sucking. And our hands were all over the other like a rash.
Ellen took her time with the full body contact; erotically moving about on top of me as she subtly screwed my erection around inside her. Slowly, I sensed she was working herself up into a higher state of excitement. A point was passed where her sensory excitement of herself transmogrified into a fucking. She lifted herself up into an elevated reverse missionary and started thrusting and grinding herself on my erection; her extended arm position offering me the delightful opportunity to suck and play with her nipples.
From there, it didn’t take long before she came; collapsing on me and very quickly turning me over to put me on top and encouraging me to start my own thrusting into her still contracting vagina. I didn’t require much encouragement for that; giving myself a very nice orgasm after an appropriately generous period of enjoying the feeling of my erection thrusting in and out of her.
As I did my own collapse down as I felt my climax peter out, I rolled Ellen back on top, draping her limp body over me. That’s partly so I can continue to enjoy our intimate embrace without fear of crushing her. But importantly, it also leaves her with the decision as to when to disengage. I’m never sure how long the continuing entanglement should last; not wanting to be a ‘wam, bam, thank you mam’ guy, nor someone who causes the girl to think to herself ‘will he ever let me up?’
Ellen waited until my erection shrunk out of her, then disengaged and, with a peck on my lips and a ‘thank you’ indicated she’d better get back to the kids.
That left me to get breakfast and an early start to my work day. The latter was important because Amy had asked me to come with her down to dad’s yacht in the afternoon. It has been sitting at the marina unused and unvisited ever since the accident. While Amy had arranged for it to be properly looked after by the marina staff, Amy thought it was time to go down and check it out with a view to bringing it back into action. It could likely do with a clean-up and since it was a Wednesday, the day of the midweek race, it would be a chance to say hello to dad’s sailing friends.
It would have been nice if Ellen could have come too, but she had appointments lined up so had to excuse herself.
Although previously an enthusiast, I hadn’t had much to do with dad’s yacht since he left for the Pacific cruise after mum died. By the time he came back, Jane and I were engaged and planning our wedding and with work and then kids, life just sort of took over. There was the very occasional family day on it, but once we had small kids, even that was considered risky, so we always had them at dad’s home.
In a way, I was looking forward to getting involved again. It was dad’s passion and I wanted to honour him by making good use of the boat. But I also figured I needed some outside activity to keep me sane.
It was around 12.30 Amy came into my office to collect me. She was dressed in the mid-blue, tightly fitting, plunging neckline, cropped t shirt and spray on tiny gym shorts, which I knew was the boat’s women’s uniform, under which I could see the string sides and ties of the tiny matching blue bikini that was the other part of it. She tossed me a bag…
“Here. Put these on.”
I looked into the bag to find a sea of the same matching blue clothing; soon discerning a t shirt, pair of shorts and — yes — a pair of blue speedos, all new with tags still attached. As is Amy’s way, I could see she’d been planning ahead. I looked up at her…
“I didn’t think we were racing.”
“We’re not. But it is time to get the vibe back. The other sailors will be down there and it’s time to say ‘we’re back’, or at least will be soon.”
There was no point arguing with Amy and I felt no desire to do so. I did as I was told before we set off on the short trip to the marina.
It had been many years since I’d been here, so I followed Amy as we entered the marina precinct. Half way down to the marina jetty, she led us into the marina office. It was staffed by a solitary young female, who was bent over a desk at the back of the room, writing something up, when we entered. I have to admit, even with Amy right in front of me, she was a distracting sight. She may have been on the short side, but in profile, she was stunning. Dressed only in a tightly fitted mini skirt and a plunging neck t shirt, she had a slim feminine figure, a really cute butt and breasts that seemed enormous on her small frame. The impression of a pretty face was confirmed as she turned towards us as she heard us enter.
What happened next was all so fast, it seemed like a blur.
She screamed ‘Amy’. Next thing I knew she was around the other side of the counter, having wrapped Amy up on a bear hug. There was nothing hesitant about her embrace. Having almost thrown herself at Amy, it was full body contact from her upper thighs to her breasts, with her head over Amy’s shoulder. Offset like that, the breast nearest me was half wrapped around Amy’s underarm. To get her head over Amy’s shoulder had required the young lady to stand on her toes and the process of elevating herself against Amy’s torso dragged the front of her t shirt down to partly expose her areola.
I was nothing more than a passive bystander as Amy reciprocated her embrace and the pair rocked from side to side as they twisted their bodies back and forward around in a small semi-circle while the neck line of lady’s t shirt walked itself progressive down her breast until the nipple was fully exposed and her already short skirt rode up to revel a rather cute red, g string, pair of panties.
The lady managed to say…
“Amy, it’s so nice to see you. We’ve missed you so much.”
But then her countenance turned to tears; visibly running down her cheeks as she seemed reluctant to let Amy go. The tears turned to heaving sobs; causing her to tighten her embrace of Amy. It took a few minutes before she was able to recover her composure. As she released Amy, Amy introduced us…
“Julie, this is John, Ned’s son. John, this is Julie. She runs the marina.”
In the moment between separating from Amy and rushing forward to embrace me, Julie seemed oblivious to the breast hanging out of her t shirt, or the fact the narrow strip that was the front of her low hung red panties was all now all but full exposed.
She pushed her body against mine as firmly and fully as she had against Amy’s; almost requiring me to carry her weight as her breasts pushed into my chest, her crotch against mine — well actually against the bulge of my manhood – and her head over my shoulder. Again she broke out into heaving sobs.
While moved by her sense of loss about my father, I was also distracted by a concern that her actions might trigger an erection which, in the way she was positioned, she would definitely become aware of. She sobbed into my ear…
“Your father was such a wonderful man. We all miss him so much. I’m so sorry about your loss; both of your dad and your wife.”
As she recovered her composure again, she eventually disengaged, giving me a kiss on my cheek and straightening up her clothing like it was nothing out of the ordinary to have her breast and panties exposed.
As we continued down to the jetty, Amy explained…
“Julie was very close to Ned, especially after she joined the crew for the Hamilton Island Yacht Week. As silly as it sounds, I think she might have even had a bit of a crush on him. But she’s a great marina operator. She seems to know everything about everything and everyone one when it comes to boating; able to get anything fixed. She’s organised keeping the boat in good shape while we’ve been absent too.”
The yacht was a familiar sight as we approached it sitting at its berth. As we bordered, Amy instructed me…
“OK, strip off. We have some cleaning to do.”
She went below and even before I’d finished climbing down the companionway steps, was stripped down to her bikini. I wasn’t quite sure why that was necessary, but followed her instruction, at least getting to enjoy putting sunscreen on her back and having her put it on mine. She dug some buckets and brushes out of the cockpit locker and handed me one…
“First thing is to get the seagull poop, algae and black stains off the decks and generally give them a clean-up. Although, it’s not as bad as I thought it might be.”
She wasn’t wrong about it not being too bad. You had to look for them to find them and for the most part, the deck was in pretty good condition; even more so compared to a neglected boat three berths away which was covered in crap.
Amy got the hose off the jetty and started by giving the decks a good hose down, not being too careful about not wetting me as she did it. Then it was a case of filling the buckets with water and a bit of hull cleaner and getting down on our hands and knees to work on the more stubborn stains. Fortunately the boat came supplied with some knee pads that we could kneel on to soften the otherwise painful effect of the non-slip surface on the knees.
Starting at the bow, where we were kneeling side by side, Amy made sure we worked methodically; one of us down each side.
As Amy kneeled on the deck scrubbing it, rotating herself to give her the most comfortable angle of attack to whatever stain she was dealing with, the sight of her was a constant distraction to me. From in front of her or to the side, there was the sight of her breasts hanging from her chest, a generous display of side boob, under boob and cleavage boob evident; the size of her breasts exaggerated by gravity. From behind, the glorious sight of her butt, her mons mound bulging seductively between her legs.
Periodically Amy would get the hose and rinse down the area we’d done and rewet the section we were about to do. It was almost predictable when, on the third rinse, she turned the hose on me. It was equally predictable, and I suspect intended by her, that I wrestled the hose off her and gave her a good hosing down too.
But the wrestle gave me a half boner, and with her now wet bikini clinging all the more firmly to the features of her body that it hid, her nipples raised and projecting out the fine material covering them and her pants drawn into her crease, the distraction was all the greater and the boner even harder to get to settle; inappropriate as it was in public view.
We were three quarters down the length of the boat, now working either side of the cabin top where I could see less of her, when a rowdy group of men came along the jetty, heading for the yacht alongside ours. They too were dressed in a sort of boat uniform; red tops and white pants, although without women and bikinis, it didn’t have quite the same effect.
When they saw Amy, they shouted out to her, causing her to climb down on to the jetty to greet them. I moved over to that side of the boat, watching as the six of them lined up to give her a hug. Four of them adopted the more conventional approach of leaning into her, ending up with nothing more than a damp stain on their shirts where her bikini top pressed against it. The other two were much bolder, a hand around the small of her back drawing her into full contact, adding an additional damp stain to the crotch of their pants.
In each case they offered Amy condolences about Ned’s death and Amy then introduced me to them, they coming over to shake my hand and offering me condolences too.
As they climbed onto their boat, one of them shouted to a bunch of guys already on a boat three finger wharfs over to indicate Amy was here, while another spoke to Amy…
“Do you know that Julie has been down scrubbing the decks fairly regularly? She seemed keen to keep the boat in good condition for you.”
Amy thanked him, before having to go through the same hugging and introduction process with the crew of the other yacht.
I was beginning to see where all the other guys and women at dad’s funeral were coming from. I was also impressed by how relaxed Amy was about having her all but naked body pressed against so many guys like that. I suppose I didn’t realise the comradery that existed within the yachting group and somewhat guessed that the vibe that the girls had created with their bikinis and outfits had encouraged that to develop.
As we continued to scrub the deck, I observed that I wasn’t the only one distracted by Amy. I’m sure it significantly slowed down their preparation. Still by the time we got to the transom, they were pulling out of the dock, heading for the race area.
As we came back together at the back of the boat to tidy up some dark streaks where the water drained off the deck, Amy told me…
“I thought the boat was in way better condition than I expected. Remind me to thank Julie as we leave. I know it wasn’t on any bill we got from the marina, so she’s done it as a favour.”
With the decks done, we moved to the side of the boat; once again mainly dealing with dark streaks where the rain drained off the decks, so we were standing up and I was working alongside her; sometimes in hip to hip contact.
Working with Amy like this, dressed as she was, was having a cumulative effect on me. Increasingly I was reminded of the randiness induced that morning by the sight of her naked sleeping body and the desire I felt to fuck her. And with the jetty now fairly quiet and devoid of other people, the erection suppressing effect of public displays was diminished, leaving me with a noticeable half boner. One I knew Amy had noticed as I saw her glancing down at it from time to time.
As we finished the decks and upperworks, Amy indicated it was time to clean up below.
Surprisingly, the first thing she did after opening the hatches to air the boat, was change a sheet covering the bed in the master cabin, indicating the existing one would be too dusty by now and we’d take it home to wash it. After that, she indicated we’d need to check the bilge, the engine and gearbox oil and then get down to tidying up the interior; mould being a constant nuisance in the damp environment of a little used yacht.
Now I was working close alongside Amy, the physical contact as I brushed against her caused my skin to tingle and my erection to grow to a full boner. As we closed the engine bay I finally raised the courage to ask…
“Can we have sex?”
It felt funny asking like that. With Jane I might have just taken her by the hand and led her to where our carnal activities were to occur. But I was on strange, almost hallowed ground on the yacht. I wasn’t sure what was appropriate.
Amy looked at me, offering an almost mocking smile…
“I wondered when you were going to ask or make a move on me. You’ve been carrying that erection around for an hour. Come on, let’s break the ice on fucking on Ned’s yacht.”
I realised there was a poignancy implicit in Amy’s comment. As she led me into the master bedroom, I realised we were about to fuck on the bed where Ned had first fucked her and fucked her many times afterwards. You could almost feel the spirit of dad lingering in the room.
As I went to pull the strings ties on her bikini top to start undressing her, she stopped me, turned me around, and pushed me onto the bed and lowered herself down onto me; both of us still clad in our swimwear. In the process, she’d captured my still sheathed erection between our lower stomachs.
Caressing me and gently biting my neck, she turned us both on our sides, then moved down my body, kissing, licking and caressing it as her head moved down towards the throbbing erection. Leaving it covered, she sucked the tip into her mouth, brushed her lips up and down its length and then sucked my right testicle into her mouth were it projected out from the stretched leg elastic of my swimmers.
Tipping me onto my back again, she knelt between my legs to suck in the left testicle, then played with my erection with her hand; rubbing gently up and down it, before stroking up and down my upper thighs, each upward movement finishing with her slipping her hands inside the stretched leg elastic to play against my ball sack and the lower part of my erection.
There was little I could do except hum in pleasure and reach out to stroke her hair while staring at her dangling breasts. Amy’s actions were certainly exciting me; causing my erection surge and push pre-cum out through the stretched material of my swimmers.
I recognised she was looking for a prolonged foreplay. Eventually I figured it was my turn to give instead of just taking. With a light pull on the back of her head, I encouraged her to bring herself up straight again alongside me, rolling her on her back so I could pleasure her.
Like her, I started on her neck and face; caressing, biting and kissing as was appropriate. But I have to admit, I felt a certain urgency to move down to her breasts. It’s only a small exaggeration to say my desire to play with them was almost killing me it was so intense. I sort of got why Amy wanted to do foreplay without fully stripping. There was just something about the way the small triangles of her bikini top, tautly stretched across the peak of her breasts, erotically, frustratingly teased you with what lay underneath. It was magnified by the fact the earlier wetting of the material as we played with the hose caused it to plaster itself to her flesh, plus either the chill of the wetting or her own arousal, had now caused her areola to puff up and her nipples to harden in a way that created the most eye bursting sight.
I kissed around her side boob, under boob and cleavage, circling ever closer to the covered nipples and ran my finger along the stretched elastic seams that delineated where her gorgeous breast disappeared under its spandex covering. I could almost feel Amy tensing in anticipation as I took my first lick across the tip of the covered projection of her right nipple, before taking it into my mouth and sucking on it; drawing the nipple up to its impressive maximum height and hardness, then flicking my tongue vigorously across it.
Amy’s nipples are really sensitive in that pleasure inducing way and stimulating them can quickly give her an orgasm.
She moaned and momentarily arched her back with that first stimulation of them. It inspired me to temporarily cheat on the ‘leave the bikini on for the moment’ rule Amy seemed to have set. I peeled the triangle off her left breast and leaned across her body to suck it; taking the nipple and puffed up areola completely into my mouth, flicking the nipple with my tongue while my lips moved against the raised side of her areola, then sliding my lips up to actually suck on her nipple for a few moments before repeating the cycle. That let me play with the other nipple with my fingers, keeping both of them at maximum hardness and height.
The effect on Amy was pretty immediate. She held my head against her breast with one hand while dropping her head back and moaning increasingly loudly.
I intensified my stimulation of both nipples as Amy’s breathing became heavier and her moans ever louder.
Her orgasm didn’t take long to arrive; signalled by a squealing moan and the tensing and arching of her body. I kept the stimulation up, albeit at a slower pace, until I judged her orgasm had passed.
My cock was aching to pleasure itself inside Amy’s vagina and yet I knew there was more fun for both of us if I didn’t race to that conclusion.
I pulled the triangle of her bikini top back over her exposed nipple, straightening and tidying it to make it look as if it had never been displaced. Then I kissed down her torso, pausing momentarily at her navel to swirl my tongue around inside it, before continuing down her body to where her bikini pants made a pathetic attempt to cover her sexualised mons.
Her mons, like her nipples, is another part of Amy’s body that pushes her from just being stunningly beautiful to being an idolised, erection inducing, and sexualised goddess. Her taut, flat, strong stomach continues in a straight line down the length of her eye catching mons before turning sharply under her crotch. On either side, her mons rolls off into a deep, well defined hollow before rising again onto her hips. It was the goldilocks of mons. Not too big, not too small, just the right width, length and height, delightfully firm and not the least bit flabby or fatty.
Her crease runs half the way up it; a view from the front that constantly reminds you of the playground that lies beyond that sharp little turn into her crotch.
If she had a conventional bikini on, it would create a substantial bikini bridge. But there was nothing conventional about Amy’s bikini pants. The front of it consisted of nothing more than a small diamond of material, just wide enough at the bottom to continue as a narrow strip through her crotch; able to cover her unaroused vulva while leaving a generous display of crotch flesh on either side of it.
A narrow point at the top of the diamond was stretched up and held in place by the plunging arc of the low slung waist elastic, the sides of the diamond held spread part way across her mons by a sparse spider web of elastic strings running up to the waistband.
But the thing was, Amy’s vulva was aroused; very much so by the looks of it. Her outer labia lay outside the gusset of her bikini pants and a pronounced dimpled hollow ran down the front of her pants where her crease had opened up, leading into a veritable valley in her gusset as the damp material dipped from her engorged labia down onto the floor of her crease.
There was so much to view, so much to play with, my body almost shook in anticipation.
I ran my fingers along the side of the front of the pants, stroking the mons flesh they’d left exposed before stroking along the dimple in the pants that ran down the front of it, covering her aroused crease. I bent in and slid my tongue under the side of her bikini pants, pushing it towards the lips of her crease and running along it. I felt in no hurry as I repeated the movements, my fingers only slowly getting bolder and moving deeper into her crease and towards her more erogenous zones.
Amy seemed to be enjoying my playing with her body and I certainly was, even if I was beginning to feel a certain heat through the length of my still sheathed erection.
Amy’s thighs were quivering in anticipation even before I’d touched her clit. But soon enough my fingers were stimulating it through the thin material of the gusset; which was already wet with her slippery juices when my finger first pushed into her crease to touch her up.
Amy started moaning loudly with my first contact; quickly moving into what I call the screaming register of her sexual vocalisations. It seemed like only minutes before she came, pulling my head up to have me lie alongside her instead of squatting down at her hips.
I kept fingering her as she held my hand into her crotch; seemingly encouraging me to keep her orgasm going. But as she continued to moan and squirm about in the throes of her climax I became aware that the warmth running through my erection was getting hotter. It wasn’t being rubbed against Amy or stimulated in any way, just sitting passively over her hip bone in its spandex sheath. But I came to realise something was triggering it, if only the erotic pleasure of playing with Amy’s body. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like that before, which was why it caught me by surprise when I suddenly realised I was about to cum.
Impulsively I threw myself over Amy and pressed my body against her and grunted loudly, as pulse after pulse of my climax filled my swimmers with my cum; leaving me feeling a little bit embarrassed about what I suppose you’d call a premature ejaculation.
I found myself apologising as I just as quickly rolled back off her to stop the cum oozing through my swimmers from smearing her stomach…
“Why are you apologising?”
“For cumming prematurely”
Amy made a dismissive ‘poofle’ noise as she answered with a smile…
“You did pretty well. There’s a reason we call these bikinis ‘cum catchers’. Ellen’s husband used to come all over them in foreplay nearly every time they had sex after a sailing day. Not intentionally according to Ellen, he just got off on fingering her with them on. And Izzy’s husband and Shelly’s Adam were little better. Indeed, the amount of cum Adam reportedly squirted all over Shelly’s bikini pants one time is legendary. You guys seem to obsess over them and certainly the other guys seemed to like foreplay with them on. Ned was probably so used to seeing us in bikinis and being older was almost the only male who didn’t.”
I’d met Adam only at the funeral, although had heard a bit about him. The girls were only too keen to tell me about his large cock and an erection which they described as the size of two beer cans stacked one on the other. How his slender girlfriend — Shelly — managed to deal with that, I couldn’t imagine; but the girls assured me they fuck like rabbits. They also said he could shoot his flood of cum close to two meters. Why they knew all this, except as a story from Shelly, I shuddered to think. There was a strong inference that there’d been visual and vocal backup of Shelly’s word.
Amy knelt up on the bed and started to pull my swimmers off…
“We’d better rinse these. The cum damages the material. Wait there; I’ll be back in a sec.”
She returned a short while later, without my swimmers. Kneeling on the bunk, straddling my hips, she learnt forward over me…
“Do you want to pull the strings on my bikini top?”
That was a silly question. Of course I did, even if I was now left with the still half residual of the erection that had just shot its load. I pulled the neck string and then the lower one, watching in delight as her breasts tumbled out of the top.
She reversed herself bringing her legs alongside my shoulders as she stretched them out and suspended her hips off me on hands place either side of my hips…
“OK, now my pants.”
The view her slightly spread apart legs offered me as I reached up to grab the side string of the pants was somewhat special. There was a massive camel toe through the gusset of her pants from my fingering of her through the material. And it was now soaking wet with her juices. It rather made me regret I did go down on her and eat her out while I had the chance.
I pulled her pants down as far as her knees, where the spread of her legs stopped it going further. She lifted her left leg and brought it across to her right, letting me pull them the rest of the way down and slip it over her left foot. Then, putting the left foot back she lifted her right one for the final removal of her pants.
Immediately, she brought her legs back under her, leaving her kneeling over my hips.
With my cock only semi stiff and still not refracted, I wondered what Amy had in mind. I found out as she lowered herself onto it, the length of my manhood, such as it was, captured in the line of her crease. Then she started sliding back and forwards.
The warm, slippery wetness of her crease as it moved up and down my manhood soon had the effect Amy intended; producing a full erection again. But it also had the other predictable effect when she’s sliding her clit up and down the length of my cock; she was powerfully stimulating herself. And when Amy’s stimulating herself, that’s no trivial thing.
By the time she’d induced a full erection she was vocalising a sort of rising, grunting, moaning, yell, with her sliding on me becoming faster and firmer. Had she kept it up for too long I would have been squirting into thin air again. But with a loud crescendo she started cumming, immediately lying down on me and penetrating herself on my shaft where I experienced the powerful contractions of her orgasm as she excitedly French kissed me.
It was interesting that the powerfulness of Amy’s post climax oxytocin rush meant she was breaking the kissing boundary that Ellen and I were still feeling; although Amy kissing me was starting to erode my boundaries too.
When her orgasm, and the kissing that followed it, calmed enough, Amy induced me to roll on top of her. The message, and the invitation that went with it, was unmistakable. When either Amy or Ellen do this, it’s telling me I’m meant to go for it.
I started thrusting, gently and slowly at first, simply enjoying the play of my hardened shaft in the glorious, wet, embracing environment of Amy’s vagina. I’d felt a bit short changed by my premature ejaculation. The orgasm itself had been sort of OK, but not fantastic. But I’d completely missed the pleasuring of my shaft in Amy’s body that would normally precede it.
Now I could take my time making up for that; my enjoyment made all the greater by my knowledge that Amy can actually get it off with sex in this position; one of those rare women able to be triggered by vaginal stimulation of itself.
I wasn’t in a hurry. Amy’s grip on me was firm, but not firm enough to rush me to an orgasm. I slid my erection in and out from a full penetration to a half withdrawal, at the same time, using that movement to slide by body lightly over Amy’s; brushing my chest across her projecting nipples.
I was pleased that I was causing Amy to start moaning again. It meant I was pleasuring her even as I pleasured myself; and, I admit, there’s something really enjoyable about pleasuring Amy even if she can be embarrassingly loud about it.
Instead of just banging away at her, I also started nuzzling her neck and caressing her cheek against mine. That, my shaft in her body, my chest brushing against her nipples and my thighs tightly woven against hers left me so deeply immersed with her that, without thinking about it, I suddenly found myself French kissing her.
By the time it really registered what I was doing, it was sort of too late. We were bound together in a lovers embrace too intense for me to pull my head away in some sort of shocked reaction. Quite the opposite, I slid a hand around her neck and an arm around the small of her back, binding her even closer to me. My thrusting slowed, even stopped occasionally as my inner feelings went way beyond mere erotic pleasure; my manhood simply throbbing inside her as we passionately engaged with each other.
Our tongues wrestled each other as we half rolled from side to side.
I couldn’t hide it any longer. I felt this incredibly deep love for Amy that completely transcended all else. The past was just that, the past. And whatever feeling I felt for Jane and would continue to feel, the present couldn’t be denied. My penetration of her became in that moment an act of true love.
I started thrusting again, but it had a different feeling. It was no longer one of mere self-pleasuring. It was…well, it was something I’m having trouble finding a word for. It was a more mutual thing; an act of loving; of merging our bodies together. Given the biological purpose of sex, you might even describe it as joining, indeed, merging our yin and yang together to create new life — even if that wasn’t on the agenda.
Amy was moaning into my mouth; her body quivering against mine. I could feel the excitement building inside her. Her whole body, even somehow her vagina, was communicating to me how aroused she was. Personally, I was still on cruise as far as any movement to a climax was concerned. Absolutely loving making love to her, but far from being on a short fuse.
Our deep oral engagement at least was suppressing Amy’s tendency to scream, but even there I could feel against my tongue a tenseness as she groaned and moaned against it that suggesting something much louder was trying to break out.
With each, slow, deeply penetrating thrust I made that sense that Amy was about to explode became more certain. I felt it, not just from reading her sounds and bodily reactions; it was like her body was communicating directly with mine, passing the signals across.
I knew before I executed it, that the next thrust would cross the line. It did. Amy threw her head back and let out an almighty cry as she threw her hips up forcefully enough to take me with them and her contractions pummelled my manhood like never before. She rocked her hips from side to side a couple of time before my weight drove them back onto the bed, her hands on my bum telling me to pound her.
I did, thrusting away rapidly at her, seemingly intensifying and prolonging her orgasm as her now freed mouth loudly vocalised her inner feeling.
It was like I felt everything that Amy felt; not in the erection I had deeply penetrated in her, but in my brain. It excited me to. My status move from cruise mode to building mode as my erection felt harder, longer and more stretched than before.
I lifted myself on outstretched arms and continued to pound her as I stared down at her erotic breasts. Now I was grunting loudly; every thrust producing a slightly louder, more intense grunt. My balls, my whole shaft, was brewing up; building for an impending release.
It came as I cried out…
“OH FAAAARRRRRRRRKK…AAAHH…AAAHHHH…”
Every pulse brought forward another grunt as I followed my body’s demands and kept thrusting hard and fast until the signal changed to lie on her and hump her. I don’t know where these signals come from, but if I follow them I get a much better and longer orgasm, and Amy soaks it up like a sponge, sometimes getting another orgasm for herself.
But the last movement left my head alongside hers and as soon as I got enough composure, my own oxytocin rush had me burying my tongue in her mouth as little mini thrusts gave me body shuddering mini after climaxes. Amy responded to all this with enthusiasm, but as, after a while, she felt my erection soften, she suggested…
“Maybe we should go back to cleaning?”
I pulled my head away and grinned at her…
“You’re such a romantic, aren’t you?”
“Maybe more than you know. Look how randy one session of cleaning got you.”
There was no arguing with that — not that I ever intended to. I withdrew my soft cock and knelt up on the bed…
“Are my speedos in the bathroom?”
“Nope, out on the lifeline drying. It’s OK, you can reach them without revealing too much of yourself. They might even be dry by now.”
Oh great. But fortunately I could more or less reach them while keeping my lower torso below the line of the cockpit. And Amy was right. In the hot sun and with a fair breeze, they were mostly dry, if a bit stiff. Unlike my cock which, for the moment wasn’t.
Why do most chores on yacht seem to involve crawling around or kneeling?
The next task Amy had for us was looking under the floorboards to check the bilges. It took a bit of effort, and quite a bit of bodily contact as the two of us worked at it, to get each of the floor board up and while they were mostly dry, there was some dirt and other crap under them which Amy was concerned might block a bilge pump one day, so they had to be cleaned.
Amy was back in her bikini and I was constantly working right alongside her; sometimes in quite close contact, sometimes with a very nice view of whatever angle I was looking from. I thought, after dumping two loads in the last hour, I might have been a bit more immune to her charms. But no. I could feel a swelling in my balls and cock that just wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t — at first anyway – anything like even a half erection, just this constant reminder of her sexuality.
Amy knew what she wanted done, so I just did as I was told. But she constantly seemed to give me tasks that had me working in close proximity to her; sometimes in contact, sometimes when we were on our knees, looking right up her bum.
She was an inveterate flirt and it was pretty clear, that is still what she was doing. Personally I found it quite delightful. It actually made cleaning a lot of fun, but pretty soon the erection was back in my speedos. Initially I wasn’t feeling as randy as I had been before, just aroused. When I was kneeling down I felt just like an excited dog, my aroused cock, even in the swimwear, hanging down at a slight angle to my torso.
After cleaning the bilges, we worked on the settee berths, table and other furniture in the main cabin, mostly looking to clean up any mould that had arisen while the boat had been sitting in the damp environment, largely ignored. Then we were back down on our hands and knees on the floor again, cleaning it; this time where dirt collects as a fillet in the join between the floor and the cabin sides and, if it gets damp, can lead to dry rot.
In accordance with her plan, Amy was doing the starboard side, me the port. It was a tedious little job, although not difficult. But the companionway was so narrow, we were in single file, me with my nose all but up her butt; her bulging mons right in my face, covered only by her seductively teasing mini bikini pants.
We were half way along when I came to the realisation the dynamics had changed. It was no longer a case of ‘just being aroused’. My cock was hard, as in really, over the top, hard. It seemed like it was stretching out my speedos like never before as if it had somehow found extra length and width, with the skin stretched so much it felt like it would rip itself apart. And it was pumping out pre-cum so much it had oozed through my swimmers and was dripping on the floor.
And it was randy as all hell.
I’m not used to this. In my former life, sex three times a week would be more than enough and I don’t ever recall being so randy that I felt I really must engage in sex NOW.
Another look at Amy’s butt right in front of me strongly suggested why that might be. It was clear she was aroused too. Her outer labia were again sitting outside the gusset of her bikini pants and a large fresh damp stain was permeating through the gusset where her vaginal opening would be. Plus always there was that ever seductive sight of her mons bulge squeezed between her thighs.
But it had to be more than even that. The feeling was so powerful it was like she was pumping out seductive pheromones from her aroused self; right into my face.
I felt the confidence to really test the girls instruction to seek sex when I wanted it; largely heped by Amy’s obvious arousal.
I mounted her, doggy style, making sure my erection went down through her crease, instead of over her back as I moved on top of her. Amy stopped her cleaning…
“Are you after something?”
“God yes.”
“That bad is it?”
“More than you could know.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Fancy doggy style?”
“It’s not my favourite position, but if you do…”
She looked at me with a light mocking face…
“You think you’re the only one who gets aroused when we’re working together, all but naked, side by side?”
“You know me, I’m always happy to please.”
“And you usually do.”
Dropping her head, she reached between her legs, unsheathed my erection, pulled aside the gusset of her bikini bottom and the next thing I know I’m fully penetrated in her very receptive vagina. I involuntarily let out a very loud sigh of what you might call an initial degree of relief as Amy’s body embraced one very stiff and stretched penis.
But my need was greater than that. Almost immediately I found myself thrusting; somewhat to my shame, satisfying a desire I couldn’t fully control. At least it was at that point gentle; gentle enough Amy could re-angle her body to brace and support herself with her head and left shoulder on the settee that ran alongside us.
Once she was fully braced though, I cupped her breasts with my hands, knelt upright and, I have to admit, unleashed my desire to really go for it. I don’t think I’ve ever in my life surrendered to what was an overwhelming need to engage in such — using the least judgmental word I can find — vigorous sex.
I was still attuned to Amy; stimulating her nipples and listening to her vocalisations to make sure they didn’t convey any pain or discomfort. But really I was under the spell of a sexual frenzy. I could feel her body pushed about as my shaft went to full penetration, my pubis crashing into her butt and driving her forward; repeatedly and in quick succession. Each time, it was accompanied by a loud grunt from me.
For once, whether Amy came or not was not at the forefront of my concerns. The girls talk about going the animal on them. Well, this time I was in full animal mode, whether Amy wanted it or not. I just hoped she did.
It was…intense. Not just the pleasure, but the need to keep fucking Amy like I was. I was absolutely driven by something. Lust? Maybe. Desire? Certainly, but what sort of desire I wasn’t sure.
I’m not normally blasphemous, but I found myself grunting…
“Oh god…oh god…aahh….aahh…oh god…”
The back of my mind was registering Amy was getting pretty excited too; demonstrating it with that loud, scream like vocalisation she does when she gets really aroused. That and the puffed up areola and large, hardened nipples I could feel between my fingers.
Amy went first. An incredibly loud cry accompanied by her squirting all over the newly cleaned floor; a cry that continued as I kept pumping away at her, almost rag dolling her body with my thrusts.
She tightened her grip on me and suddenly my erection was going ballistic. Heating up like a rocket getting ready to launch. That first rush of cum up my shaft was intense — really intense. I cried out loud…
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH…”
Bending over Amy’s back, I continued to cry out — although with diminishing volume — as pulse after pulse of my climax wracked my body until I was reduced to a limp wreck draped over her, an unrelentingly hard erection still fully buried in her beautiful body.
After a brief pause, it was Amy made the first move. Effectively crawling out from under me, she stood over me and lifted me to a semi standing position before leading me back to the master cabin and putting me on the bunk; pulling my swimmers off again.
She stripped herself and lay on top of me; repenetrating herself with an erection which, even if it had shot its load — remained stubbornly full and hard. She kissed me; deeply and passionately, her hands all over my body as she gave vent to the oxytocin passion which followed her strongest orgasms. This time, she was joined by a release of my own hormonal response as two inflamed bodies caressed and stroked each other while rolling around on the bed kissing, my deeply penetrated erection binding them together as one.
As Amy seemed to eventually sate her passion, she separated our lips long enough to ask…
“You’ve never gone the animal on me as fulsomely as that before. What brought it on?”
“Working alongside you. Brushing against you all the time. Seeing you in that cum catcher bikini. Just looking up your butt as we cleaned the floor. I’m sorry if I overdid it. It was just such an irresistible urge. I hope I didn’t hurt you. Did you mind?”
“Did I mind? You made me squirt. I almost never squirt. It has to be pretty intense and targeted to do that. Your erection is still hard as. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Really good orgasms can make it last longer. Maybe it’s that.”
I paused before raising a topic that always bothered me…
“Amy, I’m not used to women who want so much sex. I don’t really know how to react. It’s not that I mind. It’s just that I don’t know where the boundaries are. What makes you so responsive to sex?”
Amy paused…
“You know my background and what Frank did to me…”
I knew much of it only from sitting supportively in court as Amy gave the evidence that put him in jail for a long time. Before that there had only been hints of it; Amy not being one to wallow in her unhappy past. Ten years of physical and mental abuse in her native England, and then he tracked her down to Australia and tried to murder her. Hearing all the evidence of her past and then sitting in court watching the video she surreptitiously managed to make on her phone of his prolonged build-up to his expressed intention to rape and kill her as he slowly, progressively and in a way intended to torture her, cut off her clothes and physically groped and abused her, was horrifying. Seeing her then take a distracted moment by him to turn the tide and all but physically destroy his body enough he was a limp, broken man who the police and ambulance took away was as uplifting as watching the cavalry charge to the rescue; in this case she being her own cavalry to her own rescue.
“Well, coming from that, Ned not only taught me how responsive my body was to sex, but what it was like to have a man that really loved you and looked after you. Put those two things together and you have a girl who likes sex. I’m lucky that I don’t feel any of the discomfort or pain other girls seem to have, so there’s no negatives. And it gives me this wonderful afterglow nearly every time.
When Liddy first joined us, she suggested my needs were a bit like the effervesce of a shaken coke bottle when you take the lid off. Sort of a built up frustration that would peter out soon enough. But that’s not how it worked. I just seem, in the right circumstances, to have a higher libido.
You are your father’s son and a lot like him. I feel loved and looked after in your presence too and I can tell you from the time Ned encouraged me to try and go out and find a guy closer to my own age that other men don’t have the same effect on me.”
Hell, she left me thinking. Amy has done more to help more people — including me — than any other person I know. She’s the most loving, thoughtful person, I’ve ever met. It left me wondering how I managed to score brownie points for making her feel looked after.
“You seemed to soften and then go hard again. Have you got another boner?”
“Yes, I think you’ve had that effect on me.”
“Does it bother you Ellen and I want so much sex?”
“No. What bothered me was I felt so randy from your presence a short while ago that I imposed sex on you. And some pretty heavy duty sex at that.”
“I didn’t think it was imposed. Wouldn’t you have stopped if I told you to? Didn’t we tell you to ask for sex when you wanted it? Don’t we dress in a way almost intended to make you want sex?”
“But I didn’t ask. I imposed.”
“Not in my eyes you didn’t. I accepted you and helped you penetrate me. We’re not in some political correct relationship where every step needs to have vocal permission. I enjoyed feeling how needy and lustful you were. It really turned me on and made me feel appreciated as a woman. As long as you stop if and when we ever ask you, that’s really all that matters. Anyhow, it looks like you’re going to fuck me again.”
“Well, that’s up to you. It’s beautiful being inside you, but the fact I’m inside you while sharing my deepest thoughts with you is somehow even more special than any sex.”
Amy rested her head back down next to mine, face down into the sheet. She loitered there for a few minutes as I stroked her back; a slight screwing of her hips and, as a result, of my shaft inside her body, telling me my prolonged penetration of her without much movement had brought on a mucus bonding of my erection into her vagina. She’d been pushing herself down hard, deepening the penetration, but more significantly from my point of view, holding the base of my shaft firmly against the hard pelvic floor muscle at her vaginal opening. There was just something about firm contact at that point that enhanced my awareness of my penetration of her and even seemed to harden my erection.
But just as beautiful was the intertwining of our bodies; my legs wrapped around her sensuous thighs, our arms wrapped around each other. So many pointed of glorious contact with her sexualised body.
She rolled us over, putting me on top…
“Make love to me.”
She had certainly primed my erection for it. But there was of course much more to that request than simply hammering her.
I caressed her cheek with mine as I made the first movements of my erection; a slow, gentle screwing of a shaft that was still hard up against her pelvic floor muscle. It revealed to me just how delightfully well bound into her vagina by her mucus, my shaft was. I could feel the mucus torn away by my movements as if it had simply been holding my shaft there until I was ready to use it.
I was pleased that it elicited a moan of pleasure from Amy as I had tried to stimulate both her clit, and, by brushing across them with my chest, her nipples, with the movement. But then, since Amy can be stimulated vaginally alone, how was I to know what was working? I simply knew it was.
I kept screwing it around like that for a while, really enjoying that feeling of deep, full, penetration that it gave me, as I used my whole body to stimulate Amy’s sensitive areas, while biting her neck and caressing her face.
Slowly, I started thrusting. Just a little bit at first; a slight withdrawal, followed by returning my shaft to that delightful sense of full penetration for a bit more screwing around.
Amy was getting quite excited; her vocalisations becoming louder in a way only Amy can do.
Feeling bold, I arched my body around, to let me suck her left nipple, jerking my shaft in and out as I did it. Amy’s nipples were already hard and elevated as I came to them; her areola puffed up, projecting them even higher. I slid the full height if it into my mouth, pushing the top of her nipple against the roof of my mouth as I stimulated it with my tongue and sucked at the puffy areola with my lips.
Amy went ballistic; screaming moans soon signalling an explosive climax. She grabbed the back of my head, forcing my face more deeply into her breast; almost suffocatingly so, as her contractions could be felt pummelling my shaft.
As Amy took some of the pressure off my head, I brought it up next to hers; almost immediately finding her aligning our faces with her hands and her burying her tongue in my mouth. We tongue wrestled as I upped the pace of my thrusts, now making them longer and faster; still dragging my chest across her projecting nipples.
Amy seemed in a constant state of orgasm; moaning into my mouth and squirming about under me, even as she kept kissing me.
My shaft seemed harder, bigger and seemingly stretched to the point of tearing itself apart; seduced to its maximum performance and absolutely wallowing in the pleasure that Amy’s vagina was giving it as I kept thrusting. Tendrils of pleasure were flashing along its length, telling me my own climax was imminent.
I froze at the moment the first rush of cum shot up my shaft with a brain bursting pleasure, then thrust like crazy as that seemed to prolong my climax; Amy under me responding with what seemed like another orgasm of her own.
My own release seemed to go on forever; mind blowing pulses eventually subsiding to little mini after-climaxes that made my own body shiver; all signalled by unsuppressable grunts and groans.
As it became clear that it was all over, Amy stroked her hand through my hair…
“You seemed to enjoy that.”
“I did. But I enjoyed seeing you respond even more.”
I rolled us over to put Amy back on top where I could really enjoy the sensation of her beautiful, feminine body spreadeagled over me. We lay there is a stilled silence until my erection eventually started to subside; prompting Amy to announce…
“Well I suppose I’d better go and clean up the squirting mess I made and we’d better think about heading for home.”
After Amy cleaned up the squirting, she decided we’d done enough for the day. We dressed back in our boat uniform shorts and pants and strolled out of the marina precinct, stopping so Amy could than Julie for all the extra effort she’d put into looking after the boat.
It was another pantie displaying hug feast with Julie, she almost crying as she explained how she felt Ned’s yacht deserved to be looked after even as she understood why, for a while, it would be on its own.
It did make me ask Amy as we got in the car…
“Does Julie always dress like that?”
Amy looked at me with a grin…
“You noticed. Don’t judge her. She runs this marina like a finely tuned clock. But she knows her clientele is mainly middle aged men and she has them twisted around her little finger with a combination of fantastic, friendly service and a small modicum of feminine flirtish charm and a bit of down blouse tease.
She doesn’t normally do hugging, so the nipple and pantie exposure you saw is pretty unusual, although the panties she wears are always what you guys might call perve worthy.
But she’s a good friend of mine and she always had a soft spot for Ned and flirted with him outrageously, if in good spirits. Those tears were real. I suspect she’ll take a liking to you too.”
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