Unexpected Threesome Ch. 14

"But you passed out last time."

"I was just hypoventilating. I'll have to learn not to let it go so far. Just keep going if it happens again. My breathing returns to normal as soon as I'm out and then I wake up."

"But how do I know you're OK?"

"I am. If I don't come too within a minute then you can do something. Before that just keep going. It's not as though there's a rope around my neck or anything."

"But why put yourself in that position in the first place."

"Because it was so intense. I've never had orgasms remotely like that before. It's almost addictive."

Addictive? I'd seen that word applied to sexual hypoxia; the sort of stuff where guys are discovered hanging by a noose, naked and with an erection in their hand. And I knew girls had similar reactions. Is that what this was becoming?

When it had happened yesterday I'd got the sense Ellen wasn't deliberately depriving herself of oxygen, she just got so worked up she was hypoventilating. But now I was left wondering whether she might deliberately try and duplicate the result. I'd never been into that sort of kinky stuff; certainly not with anything that would physically restrict the airway.

But the bottom line was that I was being asked to perform; the sort of performance that can't be faked. It requires me to work myself into an intense sexual passion. With these girls that's not all that hard to do. But I couldn't really afford to have doubts playing in the back of my mind. I decided it was better to embrace the concept. To get even more turned on by the knowledge she was experiencing something so intense if that's how it developed.

But first I had to get started. These things don't usually commence with me just jumping on them and pounding away. She'd already had one orgasm, so it wasn't a cold start. Even so, just for myself I needed to work up to it. That sense I always had about erotically violating Ellen's aura before things even started helped, but it wasn't a whole answer.

I wasn't really going to demur, but the deal was sealed when Issie piped in. Not only could she hear the conversation, she'd had a blow by blow description from Amy of what happened yesterday.

"Do it Ned. I'll monitor her and make sure she's OK."

Taking some of the weight off Ellen's slim body, I started thrusting. Our bodies worked wonderfully together. Ellen's clit gets strongly stimulated on my full penetrations of her; almost like our sexual organs are moulded to be a perfect fit for each other, so that something in the base of my shaft rubs her clit. So I don't have to perform any contortions to have a powerful effect on her.

I find the trick to really getting worked up into a full 'go the animal' is to focus on her body and the feeling in my shaft; almost as if I'm just using her. I can never fully do it because I can't help but worry about them and their enjoyment. But once I get started and see that they're completely into it, then it becomes self-reinforcing. Their passion becomes another thing driving mine.

My first thrust drew a sharp intake of pleasurable breath from Ellen, encouraging me. After three of four thrusts, she was panting and starting to lift her hips up to forcefully push back against me. That helped me really start to get into it; letting myself get completely immersed in the raw sexuality of it.

A strength seems to come with that; one designed to let you ignore pain and do things you would think you cant. I found myself with one arm around Ellen's back, supporting the arch of her body, as I carried the full weight of my upper body and hers on my other arm. There was something highly erotic about having this beautiful woman draped over my arm as I plunged my manhood repeatedly into her; one moment feeling the impact of the thrust almost rag doll her body, the next feeling her own passion fight back against me as she held my shaft on full penetration as she ground her clit against my pubis.

If I noticed that she was starting to tense up and take short breath like she had yesterday, the consequences of that were pushed into my subconscious mind as her palpably rising excitement fed into mine.

With a short strangled cry, she climaxed, tensing further and momentarily freezing her body as I kept passionately thrusting at it. As the peak of her orgasm released her, she started throwing herself back at me with renewed vigour. She'd unleashed her own animal, creating a little battle of sexual wills; hers to hold me in and grind her clit on my pubis, mine to pound her almost unmercifully.

It wasn't a battle you had to win. The mere existence of it was eroticism at its peak; two uncontrolled passions selfishly contesting for dominance of the sexual encounter. The reality was a compromise; the victories going a bit each way. But the imagery of the contest was a powerful one, driving both our sexual arousals to new highs.

Ellen's state of excitement was amply conveyed through the short sharp moans that accompanied every thrust and parry of the contest and the enthusiasm of her physical response. Whether her body was still being wracked by the contractions of her last orgasm or building to the next was a peripheral concern as I kept thrusting away.

I was vaguely aware her breathing was shallow and concentrated on the exhale. I may have even noticed as I stared at her wobbling breasts that her chest's rise and fall was less than normal. But it wasn't where my focus was.

It was only as her tensed up legs started quivering against the inside of my thighs and her moans became staccato, a machine gun like stream of hypoventilated grunts, that I realised she was going down the same path as yesterday.

"Breathe Ellen. Breathe. "

But she didn't register my words. Too caught up in her excitement, her whole being consumed in the throes of her sexual arousal, she got more and more tense, her moans shorter and faster as she repeatedly crashed her clit against the base of my thrusting manhood.

Suddenly she grabbed my butt cheeks with both her hands and held me tightly into her. A long mournful groan escaped her as she ground her clit from side to side against the base of my shaft. The groan rose in pitch; not gradually, but if walking up a series of steps. A sharp exhale of breath until the moan morphed into a long "aaaahahhhhh." With each step, her body tensed further until it was rigid; a steel arch bridge. Her hands held me into a full penetration, as the whole bridge rocked from side to side around the balls of her feet and her shoulder, still rubbing that clit.

There was a final exhaled scream. It was not like Amy's or Issie's where the volume conveyed the message of their excitement. It didn't need volume. There was something in its tone that said a monster orgasm had exploded deep within her and the pleasure of that had rushed into her brain with the force of massive wave.

It lasted maybe a few seconds and then she fell silent, her previously rigid body now limp over my arm, her arms having fallen away from my butt were now drooped onto the bunk by her side. With the pressure of her hands released from my butt, I intuitively started thrusting again. They were desperate, massive thrusts generated by my pent up arousal which rag dolled her limp body across my arm before it dawned on me she'd passed out again.

I had an instant to make a decision. Keep going as she told me to or stop and withdraw? Maybe the animal within me was influencing me too much, but I eased her torso back onto the bunk, lifted myself with both arms and kept going.

Looking down at her chest, I could see past the distraction of her breasts that her chest was now rising and falling.

I never done anything like make love to an unconscious woman before. There was a strange, uncomfortable and very guilty excitement to it. My shaft was warming and my balls had that feeling they were brewing up a storm. I didn't want to go off yet. I wanted Ellen to wake first. It was all too exciting, too nice; not just or even her being unconscious. It was the whole go the animal thing on this woman who responded with such a heightened arousal she passed out.

My hips wanted to thrust even as my shaft was calling for me to hold back. Instead of pistoning in and out furiously I'd changed my motion to one where I maintained full penetration as I jerked against her. If her clit was able to feel anything, it was getting a powerful rubbing as my action raised her hips and rag dolled her body each time, causing her chest to heave.

Her eyes opened. They weren't rolling but not entirely focused either. The previously relaxed countenance of her face started to tighten, as If something was developing deep inside her; something she hadn't yet grasped the implications of.

With a sharp intake of breath, followed by a mighty groan, she climaxed again; the almost surprised look on her face a contrast to the way her body tensed and arched, pushing me up. My manhood was calling time; it was going to go. As her hips sat there suspended off the bunk by the arch of her back, I gave it what it wanted to complete its task, propelling it repeatedly in and out of the warm slippery tunnel of her sex until it exploded in a flood of cum with an orgasm that felt like it blew the brain right out of my head.

All I could do was collapse back down on top of her as the final shudders and mini climaxes of my release wracked my body. I could feel Ellen's sex contracting on my manhood, as if to squeeze out every drop of cum. I was spent. She was spent. For a moment we just lay there.

Then her face broke into a smile, followed by a giggle.

"That was crazy. I've never had orgasms like that before; it was like they were on steroids. I've always wondered why people accidentally hang themselves going solo. Now I'm beginning to understand why. It definitely could be addictive."

Scared that my weight was crushing her, I rolled off into the space between us and Issie, withdrawing as I did. Ellen followed, hitching one leg over mine and covering half my chest as her hand stroked my face. Issie quickly mirrored her; between them burying my body under theirs. As Issie stroked my face too, I could smell her juices on her fingers. I'd noticed that, as she always does, she'd been pleasuring herself while I was banging Ellen.

"I still freak out when you pass out. I don't really want that to be a regular thing."

"I just need to control my breathing better. I still just lose it. How long was I out for?"

"Only 10 to 20 seconds like last time, but it still scares me witless."

"Maybe, but I'm fine Ned. And that orgasm after I woke up nearly blew my mind as much as the one that put me out. I want to stay awake to enjoy the whole of it."

Then Issie piped in.

"Hey Ned, you can't give Ellen that sort of stuff without giving it to us too. You might have to get a bit kinky with us."

I made sure my tone was completely lighthearted. But I knew Issie well enough to know my words had to be clear.

"If you mean put you in some sort of strangle hold, definitely not. I don't want to have to explain to your parents or the police why I had to bury your body at sea. Ellen's is self-inflicted. You'll just have to learn how to hold your breath too."

Issie got all coy on me.

"Just a little bit of pressure?"

"No, definitely not."

She left it at that, but I could tell the issue wasn't going away. I knew Issie well enough to realise she was certainly going to try to hypoventilate like Ellen. If that didn't work for her, the pressure would be on me to put it on her so to speak.

The day ahead was a busy one. Ellen and Issie were to start their diving course and had to be away by noon. But in a way, when I got up that morning, I'd also experienced an epiphany.

I was married for 30 years before my wife passed on. When you're married that long you've long since fallen into a habit of casual groping each other in a way that would get you arrested if you did it to anyone else. I'd recalled it was something we had both got into the habit of in the first flush of our relationship and never stopped; a hand in a crotch or touching up a nipple down the front of her dress, she getting a rise from me by tickling my balls through my pants. It was just something that happened multiple times every day.

I'd never really started that with the girls. Not that I wasn't tempted to.

Until that morning, I'd basically completely surrendered to them the instigation of all sexual contact. I was still getting used to the fact that women that young would really want anything physically to do with me; let alone have me instigate it. Indeed, I almost did the opposite; squeezing myself into as thin a shape as possible as they walk past, jumping out of the dining table to let them get in instead of climbing over me. It was almost telling them I didn't want them to touch me. Which I certainly wasn't.

But their increasing flirtatiousness and playfulness had left me feeling like a prude. I realised they were basically forcing me to touch them up with their games and that I was almost insulting them by not showing any inclination to make the first move.

So I resolved to surrender to my inclinations and, within reason, let my hands and body follow the temptations they put in my way. And in the confines of a small yacht with narrow passageways, tight spaces and three scantily clad women, those temptations came thick and fast.

The first time I was completely obvious in my change was as Ellen approached the dining table. Normally I'd jump up to let her in or shuffle across to make room for her on the outside and she'd have to almost leap on me to stop me. Now I just looked her in the eye as I remained inclined on the bench seat, my arm man spread along the back of it...

"Do you want me to get up or do you want to grind your crotch against my cock?"

She grinned at me.

"The latter."

I sucked my gut in to give her room between it and the table to get onto my lap. She wiggled her butt about to get a reaction, which she quickly got in spades. Then emboldened by my new approach, she put her hand between her legs, pulled my swimwear sheathed erection tightly up into her crease and jiggled back and forwards a few time.

"Just what I like, a full horizontal to play with."

But the other difference this time was that I surrendered to the temptation always offered by the beautiful display of a perfectly postured naked back bisected by that single fragile lower string tie of her bikini top and its delicate bow. I slipped my hand around her chest and inside her bikini top, touching her nipple up into full projecting hardness...

"And just what I like, a jutting nipple to stare at."

I saw Issie and Amy sitting opposite exchange glances with my new boldness. As Ellen slid across into her position she looked back at me with raised eyebrows and a pleasantly surprised look before casting her eyes down and coquettishly pulling aside the top covering the nipple to expose it; leaving it like that while she had breakfast.

But predictably it was Issie who most noticed the change and most directly confronted me on it. I was sitting in the cockpit when she came up to discuss the arrangements for the afternoon. Since she and Ellen would have the tender, Amy and I would be trapped on the boat unless we dropped them ashore or made the effort to get out the secondary tender.

But as she stood talking to me, all I could really focus on was an eyeful of the front of her bikini pants where the tiny patch of material was bisected by this enormous camel toe. Issie of all of them seems to display one more often than the others. Whether it's how she wears them or something about the shape of her crease, I don't really know. But this was a monster. Not a tightly drawn in fold either; more an open valley.

I couldn't help myself. Mid conversation I ran my finger once through the crease, then used the tip of my finger to tickle up where her clit should be a couple of times...

"Sorry, that was just too distracting."

"So, we're no longer toxic sludge are we?"

I looked up quizzically at her. With a bemused, patronising voice and expression she continued...

"We've all noticed and talked about how you seem to be scared of us, almost not wanting to touch us. That's what we jokingly refer to ourselves as...'the toxic sludges'."

"That's a bit rough."

"It's Ellen and her depreciating Australian humour. I thought you'd understand that. But it's not taken seriously. Still you've changed. What happened?"

"I thought I was being respectful in giving you girls the lead. But then I realised I was just being a bore. Mind you, if I overstep the mark I'm happy to be pulled back into line."

"You're good, but have another tickle before I go below to get lunch."

I ran the tip of my finger over the spot a couple of times as Issue squirmed a bit and lowered her weight onto it.

"Is that enough."

"I wouldn't call it enough, but it'll have to do for now."

The early lunch necessitated by Issie's and Ellen's diving lesson passed quickly enough and they were soon disappearing off in the tender. It being her 'private session' day, Amy had made it clear she had plans that didn't require us to get off the boat. As the others drove off, she took me by the hand and led me down to the master cabin.

As she got there, she climbed on the bunk, lay down on her back and spreadeagled herself out.

"Play with me."

At my age I should have known better. But I couldn't help myself.

"What, Monopoly? Poker? Strip Poker maybe?"

Amy growled at me, and the tone suggested she was only half joking, as she slapped me hard on the bottom.

"No, I want you to lust and drool over me as you touch me. Touch me a lot."

Still on all fours, I scanned the length of her body as it lay before me. What wasn't there to lust over?

Right under me were her breasts; delightfully firm orbs thrusting up from her chest; glorious half orange sized projections looking almost too large for her tiny frame and yet not so large as to be unnatural or gross now or in the future. Her tiny bikini top was tied tightly against them, creating the impression they were spilling out from the sides. In the centre of each triangle a nipple projected upward; already of jutting hardness, each was sitting on a delightful swollen plinth of areola; the tightly stretched gossamer material stained by the dark brown colour of what lay beneath.

The slightest turn of my head let my vision trace down her stomach, a stomach devoid of the slightest bulge. Firm, strong and flat as a plank. In the centre of it was her navel; itself a picture of perfection.

Projecting as a straight line from her stomach, her mons stood out as a glorious swollen bulge between the slender thighs; seducing a man with the less than subtle hint of the inviting playground it contained.

Her bikini bottoms moulded tightly to the lower part of it, with just a hint of a crease; the low slung waist permitting a deep bridge between her prominent hip bones which let me see down them and into the contour of her mons as it curved down to meet her thighs.

Running off from there were legs that were strong, straight and delightfully fleshed, while devoid of the slightest hint of fat.

Everywhere her skin was the most perfect coffee colour; absolutely flawless.

That was the trouble with Amy. It was so easy to lust over her body. It screamed of aroused, nubile, fecund sexuality to a point that made me guilt stricken by my desires sometimes.

I brought my head over her face and looked into her eyes. They stared back up to me; doe like. Her face still had a slight hint of sternness about it; residual maybe from any irritation she felt about my playing dumb on the sort of playing she wanted.

"Smile."

"Why?"

"Because I want the woman I love to radiate out through it before I consume her body."