A Threesome in a Covid 19 World Ch. 06

It's been a while since I added to this story so a very brief summary of how we got here is appropriate.

Five years ago, Ned returned to Australia from a Pacific cruise on his yacht with four women. During the cruise they shared an intensely sexual polygamous relationship, the story of which is told in my Unexpected Threesome series. Ned was close to 60, three of the women were about half his age, Liddy, the other was eight years younger than him.

Two, Amy and Liddy, stayed with him and continued the relationship. The others kept in close and constant contact but, as Ned encouraged them to do, found more appropriately aged husbands and became mothers.

When Covid struck and closed borders Liddy was trapped back in her native New York while visiting her recently born grandchild. Things turned nasty when Ellen's doctor husband died of Covid while treating patients. Unfortunately the surrounding publicity about the hero doctor had a bad outcome for Ellen, causing her to be stalked and harassed by a few unknown people who'd seen the photo of his very attractive wife in the news reports.

For safety, she, her au pair and toddler children moved into Ned's large house.

There, it became obvious to Amy that Ellen was in desperate need of more than just a safe shelter and, being the kind soul she was, she arranged for Ellen to rejoin the polygamous family.

*****

With Ellen once again becoming part of the polygamous family, it became more important than ever to make sure I attended to their individual needs and not just treat them as 'the girls'.

Amy is the most complex. So kind, thoughtful, generous and outgoing. It would be easy to forget she has her own needs. But she does and they run deep.

The story has been told and analysed here many times. Ten years of suffering through a highly abusive relationship; where rape and beatings were daily occurrences can't fail to damage you and leave some imprint.

Her most important need is to feel loved. In a way, that's everyone's need. But Amy was denied the slightest scintilla of love during her earlier relationship, so the need is greater for her and her response to being really loved is all the greater. And in a polygamous relationship it is all too easy to leave her feeling she has to compete for it.

She's not clingy in any annoying or pitiful sort of way, but she does want to feel secure that she has a competitive advantage over the other girls to compensate for where she recognises they have the advantage. And while I feel absolutely guilty about it, the advantage she holds dearest is the fact I find her the most beautiful, desirable and sexy woman in the world.

As my most constant companion for the last seven years, she knows she has me sexually and lovelornly wrapped around her little finger; completely beholden to her, almost as her sexual slave.

You would think that someone who had been subjected to a decade of loveless, exploitive and sometimes violent partner rapes would be wary of sex. But for Amy, it's had the opposite effect. As she acknowledges, having discovered the joy of good sex, she's almost addicted to it and certainly responds to it physically and vocally with an enthusiasm that motivates one to satisfy her demands.

To her, my arousal in her presence - a full, hard, pre-cum weeping erection - is the most manifest display of my feelings of lust towards her. She goes out her way to keep me in that state whenever I'm in her presence; which given she's COVID working from home and I'm semi-retired, can sometimes feel like it's a permanent hard on.

The way in which she does that has been endlessly written about too. She didn't start the technique. That was Issie on the yacht when this whole polygamous thing started some seven years ago. Tiny, tight fitting, fuck me bikinis - as Issie termed them - being seemingly their only items of clothing and highly sexualised, body displaying clothing when weather or being in public required something more. That combined with being constantly manhandled by the girls pretty well did the trick.

But to maintain its effectiveness for so long, as Ellen and Issie moved on and she increasingly became the main provider of the sexual tease and as I've reached undeniably mature years, Amy has raised the art to a whole new level.

It's almost like she done a forensic analysis of just what it is in what she wears (or doesn't) that has the most powerful effect on me. Just the right amount on display (although the prudes and feminists would probably say, it's way, way too much) and, just as importantly I think, just the right amount suggestively hidden. There's nothing like a good tease to arouse one's interest and manhood, however often you've seen the naked body underneath.

And while manhandling never fails, Amy's can achieve the same effect way more subtly than that. She's developed a sensuous, cat like sashay in her every movement; something she even seems to be able to project while sitting at her work desk turned to talk to me.

The bottom line is, it works. For all the depth of emotional love I feel for her, I can't deny the physical attraction constantly draws me to her presence to bask in the arousal that brings on. Of course, if she's going to do all the work to produce that arousal, she wants to see the results. While it was in any case my habit all those years ago on the yacht, she's fairly insistent that, absent bad weather or going out in public, my clothing rarely consists of more than a pair of Speedo style swim briefs. In them, nothing is hidden.

Where I've had to push back just a little on her expectation of me is on what I do with that erection. Or maybe when I do it. Whatever!

When I was trying to keep four younger women satisfied on the yacht, of necessity I let them set the sexual agenda. I responded, rather than instigated; at least when it came to penetration. That minimised the jealously that me selecting one of them to vent my lust on might have caused.

After Issie and Ellen moved out, Amy made it clear, that old habit had to go. She wanted me to instigate penetration; to in effect demonstrate my lust towards her by taking her body. That was fair enough to a point. But what we had to work out - and more so as I got older - was that I derived a lot of pleasure by playing with and lusting over her first and I didn't really want to be denied that. And now Ellen's back, and Amy's demand for sex has actually increased, being allowed to satisfy her, and acknowledge my attraction to her, by more than just pounding her with my cock has become all the more important.

In a way, today's 'lunch break sex' - as in our regular sex play as Amy takes her luncheon break from working at home - well illustrates the point.

As usual, it starts 'innocently' enough with us sitting on the lounge by the pool; me sitting upright, Amy lying down with her hips over my lap. OK, I'll grant you, that's not very innocent, especially when she's dressed in a fuck me bikini and the outcome is predetermined.

The simple fact is as we start chatting away, I feel like I'm in absolute heaven. There laid out across me is Amy's angelic body. Her flawless light golden flesh, interrupted only by the strategically placed patches of - on this day - her burnt orange bikini; itself held together by delicate, tautly drawn spaghetti strings, tied together with seemingly flimsy bows.

Right under my eyes and across my lap is her Mons Venus; with its god like proportions, an appropriately named swollen mound, gorgeously curved with the graceful artistic beauty of a ships prow. Prominent, without being distorted, it is the sexualised goldilocks of mounds, running in a line straight down from her taut, plank flat stomach and rising up between her thighs on either side, until it turns sharply under her crotch.

The front piece of the bikini bottoms doesn't quite cover its width. A low waisted narrow rectangle of gossamer cloth, it is bisected for much of its length by a concave dimple which turns seductively up from her crotch and marks the line of her crease. When she's naked, her crease seems to divide her mons in two.

On either side of the rectangle of tightly drawn material, a strip of the flesh of the mons is provocatively exposed as it arcs down and then turns delightfully up to the top of her thigh.

Between her legs, the rectangle of cloth continues. Wide enough to demurely cover the labia it moulds tightly against, while still teasingly exposing a line of crotch flesh either side of it.

It's always hard enough to take my eyes off that. But there's more visual spectacle when Amy's laid out over me like that.

Her toned stomach on her slim figure, draws attention up to her breasts. Unexpectedly large for one so slim, while still tidy, perky and nowhere near ponderous, the small triangles of her top show underboob, side boob and cleavage boob all at once. Drawing attention to themselves at the peak of her breasts, her nipples mark their presence with a raised dimple of material; the outline of the conical shale of her puffy nipples clearly visible.

It is almost impossible to simply turn and look her in the eyes as we talk. There's too much visual distraction. But then, she doesn't really expect me to.

Nor did Amy expect me to merely look at what she was offering up.

I rested my hand on her upper thigh, my fingers reaching across to the exposed flesh of her mons alongside the leg elastic of her bikini pants. I slid them gently and slowly up and down along that sensuous exposed flesh, watching with some excitement the process of Amy's arousal that I could see happening inside them.

The dimple in her pants widened into a broader concave between two ridges, as I watched her labia swell and spread out. And there, in the spot that covered that warm, moist void into which my manhood would soon enough be inserted, a damp spot quickly spread through the gusset of her pants.

As I moved my fingers to extend straight across the two outer ridges of her labia and stroked lightly up and down her pants, I took a moment to look up along her body. Her nipples had risen up under her bikini top and were now prominently, and very seductively, making their presence known. I knew they yet had much to offer in hardness and size when I started to play with them, but her body's reaction to such a simple provocation as I was offering told me I was on the right track.

The tiniest little dimple rose up from the centreline of her now wet clingy gusset, giving the visual clue to what my sensitive finger nerves had already told me with each pass through her crotch. Her clit had engorged and the tip placed itself where I briefly contacted it as my fingers slid past; a little hum from Amy indicating her pleasure.

My own reaction to all of this was predictable.

An erection was standing full and proud, stretching out my speedos alongside Amy's hip. Weeping pre-cum, Amy was micro-rocking her hips up and down against it to stimulate it.

As far as Amy was concerned, her body was ready to be taken by me any time I wanted. She would have preferred sooner rather than later; and if I did it in a wild, passionate moment of pure lust, that would be better still. But this is where we'd come to better understand that each of us has slightly different needs and preferences.

Today, like every day, whatever little clothing she was wearing would be ripped lustfully and desperately off and her body taken by me before the day was out. When she wants sex three or more times a day, there's more than enough room for variety. But for now, I was getting my turn.

And while my erection was hard, full and needy, I wanted to play a longer sexual game. Goodness there's something about being sexually provoked in the way Amy does to me that's addictive of itself. That almost constant sense of male randiness. And even when, like at that moment, I feel randy to the point of bursting, there's a pleasure in being immersed in that feeling that I don't want to deny myself by acting on it before I'm ready.

Of course, what I was doing was teasing Amy too; arousing her without stimulating her. She was ready to explode; but in frustration, not orgasm. But I knew when I did start seriously stimulating her, it meant she'd come fast and hard. And being Amy, she'd come again and again. The stimulation that just keeps giving.

I slid my free hand up her chest until it reached the flesh of the underboob of her left breast - that closest to me.

Amy's nipples are terribly sensitive and stimulatory. She's one of what I understand is only about 10% of women who can regularly have nipple orgasms; orgasms from nipple stimulation alone. So when I started circling just outside her areola with my fingers I was doing to her there what I was already doing down below - driving her crazy with my - I suppose you could call it - cunt teasing of her.

Because I wasn't yet full on stimulating her, just really stroking her body - I continued to carry on a conversation with her; in this case talking about nothing more romantic than her morning's work.

Maybe it was mean of me, but I found some pleasure in noticing that she was finding it increasingly difficult to converse. More so, if my fingers edged just a little bit closer to her real erogenous zones or as it brushed across the tip of her clit as I lightly fingered her labia. But it wasn't teasing her that was giving me pleasure, it was the way it was teasing me.

My cock was so hard that I thought it would turn to stone. Amy was subtly trying to drive me to action with her micro rocking and every time her hips moved against its sensitive fullness, it sent shivers of pleasure through its length.

Amy was also trying to subtly reposition her body so that my fingers actually contacted her erogenous zones; twisting her hips a bit to have my fingers in her crease, not across it, and trying to bring her nipple under my fingers more. But of course, my fingers had more freedom of movement that her body, so her attempts were always forlorn.

But there was a limit to what I could reasonably expect Amy to take.

Instead of circling her nipple, my fingers slipped either side of it. I felt her already raised nipple fully harden and grow further and the puffy areola under it swell up even more. Turning my fingers inward, I rolled the whole jutting edifice gently between them, tugging upwards ever so slightly as I went.

The effect on Amy was instant. She dropped her head back and let out a prolonged moan of pleasure.

Deciding on a course of action, I brought the other hand - that had been fingering her labia - up to her right breast, slipping it under her bikini top to play with that nipple.

If I'd had my druthers, I would have bent down and sucked it instead. But that would have involved either a major repositioning or a degree of dexterity my body didn't have. Anyhow, after the teasing I'd given her, I strongly suspected this wouldn't take long.

Talk about coming fast and hard. It must have been only about two minutes of loud moaning before her body tensed and she cried out in orgasm. But really the games had only just begun. The advantage of giving her a nipple orgasm first was that I knew from previous experience I could go straight into stimulating her clit.

I brought my hand back down and aligned my fingers with her crease, pushing two of them into the valley until the wet gusset of her bikini pants was inserted shallowly into her vagina. From there I slid the fingers up until they contacted her clit.

Amy has such a cute, porn worthy, vulva that, my own preference might have been for those fragile bows on the side of her bikini pants to have long since been pulled and her body fully exposed. But again, for complex reasons going back to her abusive relationship, one of Amy's kinks is a preference for sex with her bikini left on and, even then, she seems to respond more quickly to fingering through her pants than under them.

The bows would be pulled soon enough. For the time being I was more than happy to indulge her. In any case, the tease factor of that tiny, tautly fitted, now almost transparently wet pair of bikini pants was itself sending my desire and the hardness of my anxious cock into a very pleasurable overdrive.

I rubbed her clit through the gusset; knowing that, in Amy's case, the wet slipperiness of the finely woven material would be sending her stimulation into overdrive.

Amy had been 'warmed up' by her nipple orgasm; that interesting characteristic of hers where her first orgasm seems to hyper sexualise her and leave her primed for more. As I pleasurably felt up and fingered the hard little nub under the gusset, she quickly started responding.

Predictably with Amy, the moans came first. Initially mild enough, they quickly built to the point I knew they'd be heard inside the neighbour's house 200 meters away. I knew because she and Amy were best friends and they talk about it; not that it inhibits Amy in the slightest, even if it does cause me to get some funny looks from the neighbour.

Then, as she spread them further apart on my lap, her legs started quivering. That told me, this was going to be a big one. That wasn't all that unusual for Amy, although when she wants sex three times a day, keeping the standard up is no small matter. The teasing had done its job. As they say in the movies, you know 'she's about to blow'.

As she came, the moans turned to her usual string of profanities and moved into the screaming register...

"AAAAHHH...FUCK...OH SHIT...OH MY god...OOHH...NED...OH NED...OOOOUUUUU...OH SHIT...AAAHHH..."

And so it continued, each wave of her orgasm starting the sequence again.

As the orgasm had started, she clamped my hand into her crotch with hers and lifted her hips high. But, having seen that so many times before, and been completely turned on by the way her wet gusset was moulded into her vulva, I'd planned a new trick.

As she lifted her hips, I used my spare hand and forcefully stolen back the one she had a clamp on and put them under her butt. Then I'd lifted her hips that little but further until I could stick my tongue down the camel toe where I could wiggle it against her clit.

My senses took in the delicious taste and smell of orgasmic Amy as it drove her to a new plateau of orgasm and the screaming that went with it, either prolonging her orgasm or having her run straight into the next. With Amy you can never really tell - and I'm not sure she knows herself - but she certainly rewards you for effort.

As she finally settled and that orgasm or those orgasms passed, it was time. My cock was a tower of randy hardness. I savoured that feeling as I'd fingered her, now it was time to give it some pussy to bathe in.

Holding her butt up, I lifted my legs from under her and lay them along the couch. Then easing her back down, I repositioned myself alongside her.

Her bikini had done its job as a sexy tease for me and a kinky stimulant for her. It was time for me to expose her nakedness. I bent down and pulled both of the side ties of her pants with my lips and then bit the centre of the waistband to pull them off her body; enjoying the way the closeness of my face to her crotch and her juice soaked pants washed me in the aromas of her sexually aroused erogenous zones.

Then I sensuously buried my face next to her neck, nibbling her ear on the way, looking for and finding a lose end of the neck tie of her bikini top to gather in my lips and pull the bow with. Finally I nibbled her ear some more as I pushed a hand under her back to release the lower tie of her top and pull it from her stunning body.

Amy was naked, now for me. I unsheathed my erection and pulled my pants down to my thighs where Amy hooked her toe in them and pulled them the rest of the way down and off my feet.

My manhood ached to penetrate her, but, strange as it might seem in light of what had just happened, there was one thing more to do to make my sexual entry into her complete.