Push Me Ch. 06

*** Author's note: This is part of a Romance series, but this chapter is being posted in the Group Sex category because it is mostly about the sex. I recommend you read the other chapters as well, as some of the story may not make sense, but they are not necessary. FYI - Chapters 1 and 5 also contain group sex. Thanks, and please vote/comment if you enjoy.

Much editing love to Pandybear311.

*

Obnoxiously bright sunlight woke me at an ungodly hour the next morning. Shelly's hand on my extremely hard dick made it impossible for me to go back to sleep. I managed to slip free of her unconscious grasp and get to the bathroom, where I had to wait for deflation before urination.

Finally relieved, I left the bathroom to find Moira's face plastered against Shelly's back. A trickle of drool had fled her mouth, climbed down Shelly's shoulder, and escaped onto to the mattress. Shelly had already claimed the space I had vacated, one arm and one leg thrust out as far as possible.

I stroked Moira's arm lightly to wake her. She flinched and snorted. I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Good morning, love," I whispered. She flinched again, and her eyes crept open. Her tongue and jaw oscillated slowly as she worked some life back into them before yawning fiercely. Then, her dark, almond eyes focused on my face, and she smiled weakly at me.

"Time is it?" she asked.

"Nine thirty."

"Too early. Weekend," she advised, as her eyes drifted shut.

I sat down between Shelly's arm and leg, and she grunted.

"How about you, chica?"

"Shh. Sleeping," was Shelly's terse response.

"Then scoot over. I didn't fuck you both unconscious just to sleep on the floor." Shelly twisted, pulling the limbs on my side of the bed against her, and flinging her other arm and leg over Moira, who promptly reciprocated. I slid under the sheets and spooned up behind Shelly, lazily caressing two warm, soft thighs, delicious in their distinctness. Moira's fingers captured mine and squeezed.

I heard, "S'nice," from Shelly before I drifted off.

Around eleven, I awoke for the second time that day with an erection pressed against Shelly's smooth flesh. This time, the warm valley of her ivory ass had partially captured me. Half-awake, I instinctively pressed myself more firmly against her.

"Mmm. Tonight, this is happening," Shelly moaned, rocking her butt against me slowly, "and yes, I mean what you think I mean."

I heard Moira gasp. "Did you just ask my boyfriend to fuck you in the ass?" she asked, feigning outrage.

"No, I told him he was going to. You did say he was my birthday present this weekend," Shelly replied.

Moira giggled. "As long as I get to watch. Maybe I'll even munch on that sweet little cookie of yours while he does it, so I have a good view."

Shelly shuddered. "That would be fucking awesome."

"I would ask if I have a say in this, but I'm not dumb enough to protest anything I just heard," I said. They both giggled. "I'm going to hop into the shower. Then we'll get some food and head to the beach. How does that sound?"

When I didn't get a response, I opened my eyes to look over at Shelly and Moira. Their hands were on each other's faces, and they were kissing softly. I smiled and slipped away quietly to take a shower. Judging from the silly, content expressions on their faces when I exited from the bathroom, they hadn't stopped at kissing. They both stood and kissed me on the cheek before disappearing into the bathroom. They took the bag containing their purchases from the gift shop adjacent to Hyman's with them.

They emerged with wet hair, wearing matching, extremely skimpy bikinis. Shelly's was hot pink and shimmered like snake skin, while Moira's was a glittering, metallic silver.

"Oh, God," I fretted. "What are you two trying to do to me?"

They giggled in chorus. "These are presents for you," Shelly said. "We're going to make sure everyone at the beach knows that you have two hot babes clambering for your junk. You're going to put lotion on us, and we're going to make sure that you're thorough. Then, we're going to return the favor. If a guy hits on either of us, we're both going to snuggle up to you and tell him we're spoken for. If it's not too crowded, you might even get lucky." She paused reflectively. "It's a shame we don't have grapes and palm fronds."

I turned my focus to Moira, but she just grinned and nodded emphatically. "Just try not to get me into any fights, please," I requested.

"Pshh. If an ass needs kicking, I'll be doing the kicking," Shelly declared. "We're more of the liberated, self-sufficient, devoted slave-girl types."

I laughed. "Well then, your master says you at least need to cover up for breakfast." They pouted, giggled, and then pulled short, but thankfully opaque, cover-ups from the bag that had previously contained their bikinis. They were wearable versions of the South Carolina state flag -- navy blue with the Palmetto Tree and crescent moon over the left breast. I was already wearing a pair of green and white floral board shorts and a plain white t-shirt. We all donned shoes and headed to the breakfast bar hosted by the hotel.

I would go on to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering how Shelly could eat so many pancakes. "They were really good," was the only answer I ever got.

When we arrived at the beach around 12:30, it was just starting to get crowded. We found a nice spot about half way between the high tide line and the dunes, where we spread a large blanket. As soon as the girls shed their long shirts, I could feel the lascivious stares of other beach-goers.

With our gear unpacked, Shelly began to wave a bottle of sun-tan lotion at me. "Don't forget about your responsibilities...master." Moira giggled.

"I blame you for letting her run amok," I scolded Moira.

She pressed herself against me. "Well then, you'll just have to punish me later. Maybe you can spank me again." She gave me a smoky stare, and then pressed her lips against mine.

"That kind of punishment just leads to more bad behavior," I told her. She giggled again.

"I'm not getting any less crispy here," Shelly said from around our feet. I looked down to see she was already facedown on the blanket, her bikini top untied.

"Wanna help?" I asked Moira.

"No way. I'm looking forward to my turn. I'm going to enjoy watching, though," she said, trailing a finger between her breasts.

I considered squirting a dollop of lotion right onto Shelly's back, since I knew it would still be cold, but I decided against it. Even with all the teasing, they were making this one of the best weekends of my life. I couldn't bring myself to stoop to petty harassment like that. Not when there were much more enjoyable ways to make them pleasantly uncomfortable.

I filled my hand with lotion and spread it onto my palms to warm it. Then I knelt at Shelly's feet, wrapped my hands around her ankle, and slowly ascended, stopping just before I brushed against her barely covered crotch. I dragged my hands back down her leg, twisting them slightly as I went, until I returned to her ankle. When I finished the next upward push, I flicked my thumb along her butt, right under the line of her bikini, and her hips twitched. I moved downward inch by inch this time, rubbing in the lotion until it disappeared.

One leg finished, I refilled my hands with lotion and started on the next leg. I used a similar method, but this time when I arrived at the top of her leg for the second time, I kneaded her thigh, my finger barely grazing the fabric cupping her warm lips before slipping a thumb under her bikini bottom and pinching her cheek gently. Seeing the effect I was having on Shelly, Moira began to supply color commentary.

"Oh, you like it when he pinches your cute little butt like that, don't you? I bet you're getting all wet, aren't you? His thick fingers are so slick from the lotion, I bet he could slip two of them right into you, ANYWHERE he wanted. Would you like that?"

I heard Shelly moan. Moira was turning me on, too. I was glad I had on board shorts instead of the usual mesh-lined trunks; those would have been a cheese grater on my rapidly swelling cock. I started to rethink the whole 'teasing both of them with the application of lotion' idea, realizing that it would likely leave me painfully in need of some relief. Well, Shelly did say I might get lucky; although, the beach was probably already too populous for that.

With Shelly's legs fully coated, I filled my hand to start on her lightly tanned back. From behind me I heard a male voice say, "Need some help? I'm pretty good with my hands." I mentally groaned at the cheesy line, and I started to respond, when I remembered Shelly's "independent slave-girl" comment. I decided to wait and see what would happen, keeping my eyes on the task at hand, and my mouth shut.

Moira sat up and pressed herself against my side, nestling my arm between her sun-warmed breasts, before turning to look up at the source of the voice. "No, thank you. We have all the hands we need," she told him, smiling sweetly. Shelly took the opportunity to moan as I smeared warm lotion up and down her spine.

I heard a mumbled, "Wow," and a shuffling of feet on sand that signified our unrequested assistant was departing.

"He was sooo jealous of you," Moira said.

"I can't blame him. I'm living a fantasy here, in so many ways." I gave Moira a significant, loving look. She smiled at me, closed her eyes and rested her cheek on my shoulder.

"Just wait until we go to work on you," Shelly said from her prone position. "But, until then, back to me."

"Yeah, hurry up. I want my turn," Moira demanded.

"Nuh uh, no half-assing. Do it right," Shelly replied.

"Woman, you're square in the middle of three days of me not half-assing something. You think I'm gonna start now?" I asked.

"No, sorry. It's just ... been a while since I had someone's hands on me consistently, and I ... I miss it more than I want to admit to myself."

Moira turned and frowned at Shelly's supine form before she lay down beside her blonde friend, resting her cheek on her own arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't really mean to rush him. I want to make sure you enjoy this. This weekend is all about you."

Shelly flipped her head to look at Moira. "I'm sorry, too. I know you're not trying to screw me over." Moira reached out and lifted a stray lock of hair out of Shelly's face tenderly.

Receiving additional re-enforcement from Moira that she was completely OK with everything that was happening, I spent some extra time working the lotion into Shelly's back and shoulders. Shelly moaned in approval, and Moira smiled gratefully up at me. I felt my heart swell.

I was more deeply in love with Moira than I had ever hoped was possible, and I truly believed she felt the same about me. Yet, she could easily accept me pouring all my attention and energy into a variety of intimate acts with her closest friend. Yes, Shelly and I had some history together prior to what I considered the "official" beginning of the relationship between me and Moira, but that only served to make us comfortable with each other. It was Moira's love and faith in us both that allowed it to happen.

As I worked my hands into Shelly's shoulders, I realized something. I had turned a page in my emotional life. I had given Moira the OK to be intimate with Shelly without my presence. Was it because I loved and trusted her, or because I felt an emotional attachment to Shelly as well, and I wanted both of them to be happy? I suspected it was a little from column A, and a little from column B. Would that be the case if Shelly was male, or if I didn't really like her? I doubted it, which bothered me, since that seemed to indicate I felt more for Shelly than I should.

I admit, I've always been curious about truly "polyamorous" relationships. Are they even possible? I never liked that word. I recently saw the term "polyfidelic" used, and that seems much more appropriate. The stereotype is that it's every guy's dream to have two women devoted to him, but can a person truly care that powerfully for two people equally? How can a person love someone as a romantic partner and not feel guilty for every iota of similar feelings he or she directs toward someone else?

Implicit in that is the idea that a person has a finite amount of love, which I don't really think is the case, but the energy and the time necessary to manifest that love in all its forms IS finite. I can SAY I love someone as much as I love someone else, but if I devote my life to acting that way, am I not just half-loving both of them? Could I ever be sure I was even treating them equally, and not being a slightly better partner to one? I don't think I could handle it if I couldn't be certain.

Deep thoughts for an afternoon at the beach, I guess. Moira, eerily capable of reading my inner monologues as always, reached up to stroke my forearm with concern. I captured her fingers with a lotion-slick hand and kissed her knuckles, mouthing, "I'm fine." She squeezed my fingers and smiled.

"OK, Shelly, I think you're well-greased," I announced.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled sleepily. Pancake coma in three, two, one...

Moira sprawled on her back and held her arms out to me. I crawled between them and leaned down to kiss her softly. After a luxurious moment of our tongues delicately intertwined, she pushed me back gently and said, "OK, I'll do your back. You do your front. Then we can switch."

"Sounds good."

The calm, casual way we took care of each other after that did much to put me at ease. It wasn't uncaring or blasé, nor was it charged with tension. It was just comfortably affectionate. I enjoyed having my hands on Moira's caramel-colored skin, but that was because I was touching HER, not because I was touching a fabulous, feminine body.

When we were done covering each other with coconut-scented SPF 30, I sat back, spread my legs and pulled Moira to me. She reclined against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and we sat quietly for some time, watching the waves crash against the sand.

"Are you sure you're OK?" she asked, after a while.

"Yeah, I'm just a little overwhelmed. My life has been jam-packed with new experiences since I met you, Moira. You know what a reserved person I am by now. It's a bit disconcerting. I feel like I'm living someone else's life. I'm not entirely sure I know what I'm doing, but I love every second of it, and nothing has happened that I will ever regret. I'm done with that. From now on, I only lament the things I've missed, not the things I've done, and I use that to remind me not to let anything else pass me by just because I'm scared." I squeezed her tightly, and she purred contently. "Thank you," I said into her mango-scented hair.

That brief, rather one-sided, conversation washed away any additional anxiety I had about the nature the relationship between the three people on that blanket. With programming, you have to be equally prepared to handle bad and good data, and you need a final solution which will accommodate all possible eventualities; otherwise, you don't have a complete program, and the first idiot that does something for which you are unprepared shows you the fallacy of the term "fool-proof." Life doesn't work that way. You can't plan for everything. You do the best you can with what you're given. Sure, you can prepare for the future, but the people who think they are prepared for everything have never experienced anything. They've just spent their whole life planning. They think their plans are perfect, because they've never come close enough to letting the brainless idiot that is life push the buttons to really test those plans.

I decided right then I needed some idiocy in my life. It was time to react how I wanted to react, not how "the plan" said I should.

***

Shelly popped up after napping for about an hour. "Throw me a bottle of water?" she asked.

I pulled three bottles from a small cooler and passed them around. As I drank, I stood to work some circulation back into my legs and feet. Moira began to rummage through the beach bag. She pulled out a red Frisbee and flicked it casually at Shelly, interrupting Shelly's application of sunscreen to her stomach.

"Oh...my...God. I haven't thrown a Frisbee in so long!" Shelly squealed. "Let me finish with this and then we have to go toss it around." I took Moira's hands and hoisted her to her feet. Shelly tossed the Frisbee to me, and I spun it with one finger tucked into the curved rim.

I learned one other important thing that afternoon -- Moira was terrible at throwing a Frisbee. After retrieving a third errant toss from the breakers, I decided some pointers were in order.

"Remember when I showed you how to freeze your upper arm shooting pool? It's just like that, but freeze your whole arm. Nothing above your wrist should move." I demonstrated by flicking the Frisbee to Shelly. It jumped and bobbed in the ocean breeze, but took a straight course right to Shelly, shoulder high.

I grinned as I remembered my trepidation at a more hands-on demonstration of proper form the night we met. When Shelly sailed the Frisbee back to us, I decided to take advantage of the upgraded relationship between me and Moira. As Moira snagged the red disk from the air, I slid behind her and pressed her to my chest. She giggled and wriggled against me. I captured the fingers on her left hand with mine, and then wrapped my other hand around her forearm. I brought her throwing arm down to her waist and held it stationary.

"Just like I showed you," I said. "Nothing but a flick of the wrist." I pressed my lips against her ear. "Like you're stroking my cock," I whispered.

She whimpered and jerked, but with me immobilizing most of her, the Frisbee flew true to its target. Moira squealed with delight as Shelly caught it, and then ground her ass into my groin. "I can't wait to try my new technique later," she said.

"Anytime, gorgeous." I looked up to see that Shelly had attracted the attention of a group of what appeared to be other college students. She waved them toward her, and our Frisbee triangle doubled in size. The male-to-female ratio remained the same, and the ladies decided making the men chase the Frisbee into the chilly surf was extremely entertaining. I don't think anyone threw it directly to me the rest of the afternoon.

At one point one of the new girls stood right next to Shelly, and it quickly became obvious that I was the topic of discussion, judging from the repeated significant looks I received from both of them. Frisbee play petered out, and the second new girl joined the group discussion, followed by more blatant examination of me from a distance. Shortly, they waved Moira over to them. Their male compatriot had struck up a conversation with extremely curvy dark-skinned young woman in a lemon yellow bikini who was strolling down the beach at the time. As they huddled, I started to wonder what Shelly and Moira were concocting.

Shortly after, the group broke up. Shelly and Moira headed back toward the blanket where I had stationed myself, with the other two young ladies going back to their previous spots. It didn't appear that things were about to get far wilder than I had previously anticipated. I couldn't decide if I was relieved or disappointed.

"What was that all about?" I asked. "I'm pretty sure I don't need to ask who it was about."

"They wanted to know which of us was fucking you and if you were our sugar daddy," Shelly replied. "When we told them both of us were, and no you weren't, they decided you must have an enormous dick."

"We didn't argue," Moira pipped in. "Not that we needed to." She winked.

I laughed. "I was concerned that someone was going to volunteer me for, well, I guess it would be double double duty.