Olivia: The Plot Thickens

OLIVIA-SAM-SANDRA-NIKKI: THE PLOT THICKENS ©

DISCLAIMERS:

[This is a work of fiction. The story is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male fantasies and perhaps some female fantasies as well. It is a fantasy and as such, the story may or may not conform entirely with reality. But isn't that the whole point of fantasies? With historical exceptions, all other locations, events, and characters are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]

I do not practice nor do I condone any of the sexual acts about which I write, other than straight, heterosexual relationships. Other than the fact that most other forms of sexual behavior are illegal, I still don't judge others for their sexual preferences except where such behavior is hurtful/harmful to others, such as pedophilia.

None-the-less, many people have FANTASIES of such taboo laden behavior to achieve sexual gratification or whatever, but have no intentions whatsoever of carrying out such behavior in actual practice. That said, if I have struck a particular fantasy of yours, read and enjoy.

NOTE:

This is the third and final installment of the Olivia series. Recommendation is to read (1) OLIVIA: THE TUTOR and (2) SAM: LIFE AFTER OLIVIA for necessary plot and character background. ALSO Readers might want to Google Mary Celeste for an interesting story of the that real ship if you aren't already familiar with her story.

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OLIVIA

Now it was my turn to bid farewell to Sam as he and Sandra departed on the passenger ship, the MARY CELESTE, as the tugs nudged her away from the pier. I couldn't find them in the crowd on the decks that waved and shouted good-bye, Bon Voyage, and the like. But I knew they were somewhere in that bunch of passengers. God, but I'll miss those two.

I already miss Sam's sister Nikki. She only had a week with us over Christmas holiday. She'd flown over as a Christmas present from her parents and then flown back to the states. Sam and Sandra flew to England later that fall for their year of study at Oxford, but took a boat back because Sandra was deathly afraid of flying. She said she'd never get in an airplane again.

My suppos'd soul mate wasn't waiting for me as he'd promised when I returned to England after my year of study in the USA. That stay in the states had been much more enjoyable by my side activity of "tutoring" Sam. Hah! With proper preparation, that "tutoring" became a near year long sexcapade with Sam and with his sister Nikki joining in as well.

The arrival of Sam filled a real vacuum in my life in more ways than one. He arrived in Oxford, but with a woman in tow, Sandra. Unbelievably, they'd just met on the plane. But that was more than alright since Sandra and I clicked with silent sparks of desire the moment we met. The three of us became a happy Menage-a-Troi for the whole year.

But none of the three of us forgot our academics. We found the time to study and do our assignments--then we played. All three of us did exceedingly well at the university. But, Oh My God, those late nights after the studying was done--indescribable nights of lusty, libidinous bursting, hedonistic, and yes, Sapphic pleasures of the flesh.

For example, I remember the first night that Sam and Sandra, after accepting my offer, settled in with me. After an early and light evening meal, Sam said he had to run some errands. He didn't say what they were.

"Girls, I'll be back in about two hours. Keep the hearth burning for me."

What the hell? Sam just got here and knows nothing whatever about the area. What kind of 'errand' could he have? Where?

Sam gave an evil grin, more leer actually, and was out the door.

Sandra turned from the door and asked, "Shall we?"

"Oh yes, we certainly shall," was my rejoinder.

We embraced in a tight clinch with a long lasting, passionate, French kiss that about blew both our minds. Sandra raised her hands above her head; I removed her top and mini bra. I proceeded to tongue and kiss my way down her neck and chest to lose myself in, on, and around her tits.

Sandra's nipples erected immediately when I took her bra off. Such gorgeous aureole and nipples; my pussy responded with a gush of girl juice. Though I lapped all around her boobs, those nipples were the bullseye of my target.

My action was then reciprocated as Sandra nudged my arms and I raised them to allow her to remove my top and little bra. She went to work on my neck, chest, and boobs with even more vigor than I'd used on her. She was just voracious.

I finally got my hands on the waist band of her slacks and drug off both the slacks and her miniscule panties. A glossy bush of flaming red curls greeted me.

"Oh shit, Sandra, what a gorgeous garden of delight you have there. I really like pussy fur."

"So does Sam," said Sandra.

"Yes, I discovered that last year while tutoring Sam. He wouldn't let me shave my pussy."

I dropped to my knees and buried my face in that red garden to savor the aroma of a very aroused female and to get my nose and mouth into those velvety folds of her moist womanhood. Talk about wet. She was creaming nearly nonstop.

She convulsed in a moderate orgasm.

When Sandra somewhat recovered, she yanked down my slacks and panties. She in turn dropped to her knees and dove her face into my cunt.

"Oh, Olivia, you've still not shaved your cunt."

"No, I sort of got to like the pussy fur myself."

After that, I couldn't talk anymore, just moan and groan as Sandra did an expert job with her tongue. When she hit my clit, I was off in my own orgasm.

"Let's get to my bedroom, Sandra--NOW."

I pushed Sandra onto the bed before turning to my night stand where I came up with a fat, ten inch dildo with which I tickled her nose and face.

"God, Olivia, that looks nice and my pussy is aching."

"Well then, Sandra, let's see if this can do something about that ache."

Sandra emitted a loud, pleasurable groan as I used the dildo to diddle around on her outer labia. She groaned even louder when I moved the dildo partially into her slit and moved it up and down in teasingly slow strokes. I'd flip the dildo under her clit about every fifth round or so.

Since Sandra remained soaked in her own juices, the dildo easily sunk into her channel when I found her gate.

"OH, oh, oh," she kept grunting as I advanced that fake fuck stick two measures and retreated with one measure and just kept doing same 'til I had most of the ten inches inside her cunt. Her hips were undulating and pumping with real force.

"Well now, just what do we have going on here, girls?"

Neither of us had heard Sam quietly enter the apartment and make his way to the bedroom.

"Sam!" we both shouted in unison.

"Who else? I noticed the spark between you when you met. I figured if I got out of the way, you two'd find a way to express that spark. I see I was right."

"Oh Sam, get your ass and your fucking cock up here and help us. We need a real cock."

"Ok, Olivia, since you asked so politely, I will. Olivia, you keep working on Sandra's cunt with that dildo. I'll get behind you and give you the real thing."

"Oh goody, Sam, I haven't had the real thing since I got home. I'm just dying to feel your cock in me again. Come and get it, you big pussy fucker."

Boy, did he. He got behind me and ran his rigid pole up and down my drenched slit, teasing me unmercifully. He suddenly plunged his cock into me balls deep in one very swift and hard thrust. I was kissing Sandra's clit as I pushed the dildo in and out of her pussy. I must've moved my ass in rhythm with my dildo work since Sam synchronized his fucking me with the same rhythm.

Sam didn't last long as he gushed his load into me. I went off next from his stimulation. That in turn got Sandra off. After a brief rest, I got on my back, Sandra used the dildo on me, while Sam fucked her from behind.

What a fucking ride. What a fucking night!

Our happy threesome continued its merry way right up to Christmas break. Then Nikki joined us. Oh boy. Oh girls (Sandra, Nikki, and I). That was one long week of fucking and sucking and whatever. Nikki really helped spice up our sexcapade sessions.

The night before she left to return to the states was the best time of all. We three girls started the ball rolling, sucking and tongue fucking each other in a two on one attack. We kept rotating after each orgasm.

Poor Sam was left to slowly wank himself as he watched. He seemed to be highly aroused. He made a point of it to shoot at least some cream on the face and tits of the one on the bottom of our pile as she climaxed.

During my turn, Nikki was on me from my forehead to my tits. Sandra was on me from belly button to crotch--On me with their tongues and mouths, that is.

Sandra was slowly licking, nibbling, and kissing first long circles from my toes to my crotch and outer labia. She evaded my clit in the process. Tiring of that, she then just circled on my outer labia. Then she grabbed my throbbing clit.

Meanwhile, Nikki had been using her talents on my face and neck. In short order though, she was on my tits. Lick, suck, bite. Damn, my boobs were on fire. My nipples had never been so erect. It was somewhere after I thought my tits would explode that Sandra grabbed my clit, as mentioned.

"Oh God, that did it. I'm coming, I'm coming." And did I ever--come that is.

After each of us had orgasmed from being two-timed, Sam got into the act more directly.

"Ok, ladies, my turn now. I don't have much cream left, but I can still fuck. I want you all on your backs, side by side. I'm going to round robin fuck you all."

He sure did fuck us. First me, then Nikki, then Sandra. I think he was close to coming by his third in line fuck with Sandra.

"Now, all of you, on your hands and knees. Let's see what a doggie fuck will do for you."

We three girls got up into position: heads on the floor, asses straight up in the air--our puffy and abused pussies open and glistening with fluid.

I think Sam was killing time to recoup some before fucking us again. He played with all our kitties in line first. He started with me again. First he played with my pussy lips with his fingers. Reaching between my legs, he got my clit in the game as well.

Oh sit. Then with his nose in my ass, he went to work with his tongue on my slit. I couldn't help it; I climaxed very hard. Sam went on to repeat that performance on Nikki next and finally, Sandra. Each of them climaxed again as well. Damn, Sam was a hard (pun intended) guy to beat.

Sam came back to me and slammed his solid flesh pole into my dripping kitty. He pumped me as if I were the last woman on earth and he was going to die when done. His hands played with my tits until he finally got a set of fingers engaged with my clit. Over the top I went with another hard climax. Sam shook with dry humps. He climaxed, but no cum remained.

When I flopped flat on my belly in exhaustion, Sam went on to Nikki to repeat his performance--minus any cum again. When she flopped belly first, popping him loose from her cunt, he got to Sandra for round three with the same results. Except that time, after popping free of her cunt, he also fell flat beside her, totally wiped out.

Late the next day, Nikki flew home. We three girls cried buckets in farewell. It was likely the last time I'd see Nikki. The remainder of the school year saw our happy threesome continue unabated. Time just flew by until I, as I said in the beginning, found myself waving good-bye to Sam and Sandra as they sailed for home on the Mary Celeste.

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SANDRA

I couldn't believe, uh, oh, I couldn't believe a lot of things as the Mary Celeste left the English Channel and set off into the open Atlantic Ocean. For one, I couldn't believe I'd found Sam and on that damned airplane to boot. Well, at least we got to join the mile high club.

For another, I couldn't believe the threesome arrangement we lived for the past year in England. I discovered my bisexuality and the fact that I'd no qualms at all,in having sex with an audience--at least an audience that was participating with us. All of that was so totally out of character for me as be all but unbelievable. But it happened.

Furthermore, I couldn't believe Sam and I were on the beautiful, if small, passenger ship instead of an airplane for the trip home. I was so relieved. Sam and I spent an awful lot of our time in the big bed in our first class stateroom. I believe fellow passengers got the idea we were newly weds and gave us a lot of slack--and smiles to outright leers.

The crew were competent and accommodating. One in particular, one of our regular stewards, was a real hunk. In one of our short conversations, I learned he had completed two years of college and was working for several seasons to earn enough money to complete his final two years.

He also was a consummated flirt--at least with me. I encouraged him. I just liked him. I told Sam about how the steward, Simpson, and I flirted.

"Yeah, I've noticed, Sandra."

"You're not jealous are you, Sam?"

"With out history this past year? No way. I enjoy watching you flirt. Anyway, you kind of like him, don't you?"

"Yes,I really do. Can I fuck him, Sam?"

"Do you really want to, Sandra?"

"God, Yes. I want to have him fuck my brains out. Then you can too."

"One condition, my dear."

"What condition, Sam, as if I couldn't guess?"

"I have to be there and watch and then join in."

"Oh yes, Sam. Oh, Yes!"

"Good grief, Sandra, I sure unleashed a tiger in you by fucking you that first time, didn't I?

"Yes, you did. You took my virginity and I discovered how much I crave sex. But you'll always be number one. You're stuck with me."

"I can live with that, Sandra."

"Oh, Sam, you're the best, the very damned best. I love you."

"And I love you too, Sandra."

The next time Simpson came by our cabin on his duty rounds, Sam waylaid him and asked him, "Simpson, this ship looks great, but I get the feeling from random observation, that all's not what it seems. Can you enlighten me any?"

Simpson hesitated. He looked all around before he spoke. "May I come in a moment?"

"Sure."

I was sitting at the vanity, in plain sight. I wore only panties and bra while I combed my hair. I could hear everything said as well as see by the reflection in the mirror.

Simpson spoke up, "I'd rather you two said nothing of this conversation to anyone. I wouldn't want to be responsible for a panic."

"You can count on both of us. We can keep a secret."

"You're correct. Everything isn't as it seems. This tub, on the surface, looks polished, shiny, and sturdy. But she's nearly forty years old."

"Isn't that a bit old for a passenger liner?" I asked.

"Yes, it is. The deeper you look, the more neglect and age you can begin to see. If you go to the engineering spaces, which are off limits to passengers, you'd be scared to death."

"Why would that be, Simpson? asked Sam, "And how do you know what's wrong?"

"I know because this is my third crossing on this piece of shit and my last. The crew scuttlebutt is rife with the ship's problems."

"Why," I asked, "is this your last trip?"

"For obvious reasons, I no longer trust the ability of this ship to remain seaworthy in calm weather, let alone in a storm."

"Can you give some examples of the problems?" Asked Sam.

"Yes. for one, her machinery, boilers, furnaces, and such are so broken down, they're difficult to repair even if spare parts could be found. For another, there's cracks in many of the bulkheads and ribs. I don't know about the keel. The prop shafts leak something terrible. The pumps are inadequate and often broken down anyway. The steam lines leak so badly, it's hard to maintain sufficient power to steam above a crawl."

"Good heavens man, how in the hell does a ship like this stay in service? Are there not mandatory inspections that would keep the ship docked?" That was Sam asking.

"Sure there are. But money talks. Bribes, I'm talking about. A powerful lot of money. This line is one of the last to offer passenger service across the ocean. We make one trip a month, stay docked two months for repairs, and then a trip back. Somehow, the service is still paying or...?"

"Or what?" Asked Sam.

"Or somebody is smuggling something of tremendous value. And that you absolutely have to keep your mouths shut about."

"Yeah, I can see what you mean, Simpson," replied Sam.

During all of the preceding conversation, Simpson kept sneaking looks my way out ot the corners of his eyes. Except for the bra strap, he could see my naked back. He could also see the "Y" at the top of my ass crack and tops of my butt cheeks above my miniscule and sheer panties.

He could probably also see at least some of my front side reflected in the mirror. My mini bra didn't leave too much to the imagination. If he could get a good look, he could see part of my aureola peeking above the bra top.

The conversation plus the sight of me had Simpson all nervous and fidgety. He wiped his brow with his sleeve on several occasions.

"My advice to both of you is to stay alert and near the lifeboats. Keep a close look, just in case."

"That sounds like good advice, Simpson," Sam replied.

I spoke up next by asking, "Speaking of a close look, would YOU like to get a CLOSER look, Simpson?"

"Huh? Closer look? Whadaya mean?"

"Aw, he's blushing," I giggled.

"You know exactly what I mean, Simpson, a closer look at ME."

"But, I'm, uh, I'm on duty.I, I..."

His jaw dropped, ending further comment, as he saw my bra drop which left my naked boobs staring back at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"Holy Christ!"

Then I turned to face him, stooped to slide my panties off, and then stood in all my naked glory. I thought Simpson was going to have a fit. I saw I was going to have to take even more of the initiative.

Simpson saw Sam remove his shirt as he watched the two of us. I ambled slowly toward Simpson, hips swaying gently.

"Shirt, Simpson, shirt."

"Huh?"

"Take off the shirt Simpson."

I didn't think Simpson was that slow in the head.

He wasn't. He finally shook himself out of his daze, ripped off his shirt, and dropped pants and boxers as one to the floor. He heeled out of his shoes and zipped his socks off.

Simpson finished stripping just before I got to him so he walked into me, grabbed me in a clinch with his rock hard cock trapped between our bellies, and crushed my boobs into his chest. He had me on the bed in a flash and his face in my pussy. God, once he got going, he REALLY got going.

No more foreplay! I got wet, really wet, immediately. In very short order, Simpson got in the saddle, aimed his cock for the bullseye, and impaled me balls deep. He only pumped a short time before he lifted my legs to his shoulder and pounded into me like piston that lost its governor. With a tremendous scream, he leg go his wad seconds after my orgasm let loose.

Two seconds later, there was a horrendous explosion somewhere deep in the bowels of the ship. The explosion was so strong, it threw Simpson and I out of bed to the deck. Dazed, but unhurt, I looked up.

"Damn, Sam, why can't you give me an orgasm that packs a punch like that?"

No answer.

"Sam! Sam, where are you?"

"I'm across the room. Over here, Sandra, in the corner."

"Don't move, Sam. Just wait."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere right now."

Where the interior wall formed a corner with the exterior wall, Sam sat on a triangular piece of decking only just larger than his ass. His feet dangled over an abyss that dropped away, seemingly to the bottom of the ship. Steam was rising from the hole.

Three fourth's of that interior wall was ripped open, creating a huge hole into the adjoining stateroom. Weak cries of help were issuing from an unseen person in that room. The voice sounded female. Sam and I had been so isolated in our room (acting like newly weds, remember) that we didn't even know our fellow passengers around our stateroom's general area. We'd only been at sea three days.