Unexpected Threesome Ch. 17

I suspect Amy detected I was starting to boil up by the time she got me back. She drew out her four as much as the crowd referees would let her; all the more so when the top of my thighs started to quiver as I stood in front of her and my little moans and grunts made it pretty clear I was about to release. By her final suck, I didn't need to tell her I was about to go; she knew it. She held it in as long as her breath would allow, flicking it with her tongue just before releasing it from her mouth as if anxious to swallow up my seed. I was almost willing myself to let go but just wasn't quite ready.

Her turn was up, but Amy wasn't ready to surrender my release to Ellen. Taking it out of her mouth, she ignored the crowd referee and spent a moment flicking the little nick at the bottom of the bell with her tongue. That did it. The way she had it angled, the first rope sprayed across her cheek under her eye - only just missing going up her nose. As the crowd referees call for a replay and "foul" and Ellen told Amy to be careful or she'd have to wipe the stuff off the cabin roof, the second and subsequent ropes were directed onto her tongue before she slurped up the final bit of cum dribbling out of my cock as it softened in her hands.

The girls thought it was all hilarious; falling or pulling each other down into a pile on the floor and rolling around laughing. The laughing was contagious, but for a moment I was left standing in amongst them with my flaccid cock hanging out until Ellen grabbed the waist band of my swimmers and pulled me down on top of them where I was subject to what might be call significant sexual mishandling and groping.

They eventually started to settle down and we were just left as a pile of bodies on the floor; occasional giggling outbreaks washing through the group like flare-ups in a nearly extinguished forest fire. When their amusement was spent, we slowly and almost reluctantly started to extract ourselves from the tangle.

With that, the evening sort of broke up and, in a leisurely sort of way, we went into our pre-bed routines. As we were in port, that could include a brief hand held hot shower. Because the hot water is generated by the coolant from the engine that we run to keep the power up, it wasn't so much the hot part as the water itself that limits our use of it. Still, at the moment we can top that up from the fuelling wharf.

Ellen and Amy used the bathroom shower, while Tash and I took turns at the transom one. The latter is in full public view, so while at night you can take some liberties, on a full moon like this one you had to use discretion. Both of us did a swimwear shower; in my case as much because mine were covered in the girls' juices and they needed a good clean as well. But then we both stripped off and changed on deck into replacement swimmers, rather than wear dripping wet ones back below.

When we got back inside and I could see it in the full light, I was intrigued by the one piece Tash now had on. It was a bright red colour, and like her others had a deeply plunging back, high cut legs and an enormous cleavage display. But it also had a racing style back, with the shoulder straps meeting a narrow band across her back, which pulled the material tight in under her breasts. But much of the display looked as though it was because the suit was designed for a shorter, slimmer girl and it was only because the material was degraded that it could stretch enough to very tightly conform to all her curves so that she could get it on - just.

As old spandex material does, it looked like the filler had fallen out, just leaving an open weave; which when stretched like this one was, becomes quite transparent. Her nipples were clearly visible; something that seemed to bother her not. It also had a number of cuts and nicks in the weakened material. Stretched as it was, it didn't look as though it would take much to rip it apart.

"Is that one of your old racing suits?"

"Yes, they don't last long when you spend hours in a chlorinated pool every day. You end up having to wear two or three at a time just so you can't see through them. So you just keep collecting them. I knew I'd be doing a lot of training swims off the boats, so I brought a few with me."

After a final cup of tea or coffee, we all retired to our allotted cabins for the night. Which meant Tash came in with me while the other two took the centre cabin.

As I closed the door behind us Tash stood there between me and the bunk; swaying just slightly because she was still a bit tipsy. She hesitated, as if trying to say something that took a bit of courage.

"This is going to sound bold on our first night. But I'm not sure it will be the same once we get to know each other better. Issie said you are willing to pander to fetishes and fantasies."

"That depends on what they are. But I understand we all have them and try my best."

"I want you to tear my swimmers apart and pound me."

I'd already had an idea where this was going when she'd first mentioned the fantasy word. I hadn't forgotten her crush on her swimming coach.

"Do you want a quick rip and bang or a role play?"

She blushed deeply; only her mild intoxication giving her the courage to spell out her desires.

"Would you really do a role play?"

"Coach and masseur?"

"How did you guess?"

"Just a hunch. But a couple of things. First, remember everything that happens is just role play and however convincing it is, I'm only guessing what you're looking for. If I get it wrong you can tell me. Secondly, we need a safe word. A word you can use to stop or redirect the play. What about 'grey'."

"Why grey?"

"I don't know, it just seemed like a neutral word unlikely to be used in a different context. So we're both assuming words don't mean what they say unless they're accompanied by grey?"

"Agreed."

"OK then, get on the massage table."

Tash lay down on the bunk face down. I sat on it alongside her butt; admiring the way the leg seam of her swimmers arched over her smooth flesh and the perfection of the curve of her waist.

"OK, so it looks to me like this hamstring is the problem."

My hands wrapped themselves around the upper thigh of her right leg. I started innocently enough, rubbing up and down her inner and outer thighs a couple of times while stopping short of any intimate contact. After a couple of those, at the top of each stroke I then brought my thumbs together over the top of her thigh, sliding them up her glute and across the bum cheek before I let the thumb of my left hand penetrate inside the back seam of her swimmers and slip down her pelvic floor before returning to massage back down her leg.

"These are very tight muscles you have here Tash. I think we're going to have to go a bit further to fix the problem."

On the next stroke my left hand moved deeply up between her thighs until it came against her pelvic floor. Then I pushed it between the bunk cushion and her thigh, pushing around the top of her thigh as I felt her lips and mound rub against my thumb; bending the thumb to apply more pressure.

I moved my hands back and forwards; maintaining that intimate contact.

"How does that feel Tash? Making an improvement?"

"OK I guess. But does it have to be done like that?"

"What do you mean? In any case I don't see how else we can get to the problem."

"Alright then."

I kept rubbing until I could feel a wetness permeate through her swimmers and around the side of her lips and onto my thumb.

"It's not just your hamstring, but also your pelvic floor muscle that's the problem Tash. Turn over and we'll address it from that side."

"OK Mr Smith."

Since my name's not Smith, I assumed that had to be Nigel's. She rolled over, immediately displaying her spectacular figure; large breasts, tiny waist and now bulging wet mound. I started contemplating the nicks in her swimmers, wondering which were the best to use to rip it apart. There was a vertical one mid stomach looked useful, as did a near horizontal one a bit under the lowest part of the plunging neck hem. Still, there was some way to go before I was ready to do that.

We hadn't really discussed the essential elements of her role play. Her earlier comments about fantasising that it was Nigel who "accidently/ intentionally" fingered her to a climax set a starting point. Her desire to have me rip her swimmers apart and pound her suggested a rather urgent, somewhat forced and possibly resisted ending. But whether in her fantasy the resistance is real or the token resistance of a virgin is hard to know. And between those two bookends lay a lot of possibilities. With none of any of it being politically correct these days, even as a female fantasy.

I put a hand back on the very top of each thighs; penetrating between them with both thumbs to massage the very tops of her hamstrings. But that placed my palms on either side of her mound and that was where the real movement was directed. Her eyes were closed and she was starting to breathe heavily, so I was clearly having some effect.

What little opacity there'd been in the crotch of her swimmers before had well and truly disappeared as they'd become soaked in her juices. There was definitely no lining and her lips were engorged and spread apart; making the area even more responsive to my massage.

My thumbs travelled up along her pelvic floor, through her crease and loitered moving back and forwards over her clit, before slipping back down to the top of her hamstrings again. With each passage I spent less time over her hamies and more on her clit.

"Mr Smith, that's not really working on my hamstrings any more."

"They're all connected Tash and the top of your thigh muscle is no less important. And don't forget you've still got that pelvic floor problem. Look, see how this makes it feel better."

I pushed my thumbs down onto the floor of her crease, running them back and forwards from the opening to her sex to over her clit; still loitering each time over the latter. After about four of five such movements...

"Oh Mr Smith, it feels all funny...ooo...oooo...ooo. Mr Smith, I don't know what happening...oh...oh...oh god, aaaahhhh...mmmmmmm."

Her hips rose firmly against my hands, swayed from side to side and dropped onto the bunk again.

"That's great Tash. Really good progress, but we've got some distance to go yet."

I started rubbing her clit again, and soon.

"Oh Mr Smith, it's going to happening again. I'm sorry, I can't stop it. Oohh...aaaahhhhhh...oh shit...mmmmmmmmmmmm...mmmmmmmmm."

"There's no need to apologise Tash. That just sometimes happens...Now we're going to concentrate on the pelvic floor a little bit more."

I lifted her right leg and spread it well apart before moving into the space that created between her legs, then moved the left leg out to where I'd been sitting; moving them both as far apart as seemed comfortable to her. By now my cock was a hard, towering, cum weeping edifice of raging desire in my swimmers. Before moving, I undone the drawstring and exposed it, which let me pull my swimmers down around my upper thighs as I moved.

As I looked up to her face I noticed her eyes were still closed; no doubt picturing someone else in my place. That didn't bother me. It was part of the game. Indeed, I'd deliberately adopted a soft neutral voice to minimise its intrusive impact.

I slipped a finger under the leg hem on her swimmers and into her sex, feeling up along the front wall of it searching out her g spot.

"Mr Smith, is that right."

"Yes Tash. It's the only way to properly work that area. See?"

I slipped a second and third finger deeply into her now accommodating sex, separating them in the pretence of stretching the muscle where it surrounded the opening but still making sure most of my efforts were concentrated on her g spot, bringing my thumb back over her clit.

But I was also trying to make her sex as open as I could get it. With what I was about to do I didn't want any of the penetration problems we'd had last time.

"Mr Smith, that's so intense I don't think I can stand it. I've never felt anything like it before...oh Mr Smith I think I'm going to pee...no, no, that's not it...I don't know what happening...Mr Smith please stop I'm going to explode...no...no...oh...ah...oh...oh no...oh Mr Smith...shit, oh fuck, oh god...ahhh...ahhh...ooooooooohhhhhhh...mmmmmmmmmmmm."

Tash locked her hips in the air as she continued to moan out her orgasm. It wasn't anything as loud as Amy, but there was no doubt she was sharing it with the others on the boat.

I pulled my fingers out of her sex and quickly placed an opposing pair in the horizontal nick near her breasts, ripping her swimmers wide open from side to side and peeling it apart wide enough to expose the top part of both her breasts. In a flash I had my face buried over one nipple while I tweaked the other momentarily with my fingers.

Tash was too much in the thrall of her orgasm to do more than grunt out a feigned opposition.

Hurriedly I felt down to ferret out the vertical nick over her stomach. Finding it, I again introduced opposing fingers and ripped it wide apart; splitting it from the seam in her crotch to where it intersected the horizontal rip I'd just made.

I dropped my hips to let the tip of my erection find her crease, then surged my cock to make it slip through the floor of it until it found the open wet void of her sex. With as much urgency and force as I dared to use without hurting her, I rammed it home.

"Oh no Mr Smith, that's not right."

Tash had used the word pounded, so I figured that's what she wanted. Certainly by now my cock was stirred up enough that a pounding is what it was keen to deliver. Rising on outstretched arms so I could look down on her body I started delivering fast full length thrusts; each ending with a firm push of my pubis into her mound.

Every time I did that final push, it seemed to undulate up her whole body until it made her breasts wobble in the most delectable way. Just the sight of that body under me as I pounded it was causing a rush of testosterone to flood through my body, boiling up my balls and driving me to pound her all the harder.

"No Mr Smith...oh, Mr Smith...no...oohhh...ooohhhh..."

If she was moving towards another orgasm that was great, but by now I was focused on my own. Her grip on me was still firm and every thrust threatened to be my last. Had it not been for Amy sucking me dry and hour ago I might not have lasted as long as I did. There was just something about the tightness of Tash's pussy that supercharged its effect on my cock.

It was super-lubricated with her juices, so it slid in and out easily enough. But it just gripped; warming my cock and sending shots of pleasure shooting along it with every delightful thrust. Excited beyond reason, as much by the sexual perfection of the body under me and its completely ravaged appearance in her torn swimsuit as I was by the effect she was having on my shaft, I was thrusting hard and fast; full lengths withdrawals stopping just before it slipped out and a fast repenetration that stopped with a crash against her mound.

I could feel the cum being harvested from my balls ready to shoot up my shaft and seek out a path to the depths of her body in the hope of finding an egg to fertilise. Involuntary muscles in my thigh and pelvis were being wound up like strings in a cross bow to deliver that final uncontrollable thrust that would deliver my seed hard against her cervix. Every part of my body was priming itself for this reproductive opportunity driven by the nubile beauty whose breasts were wobbling right under my eyes.

"Mr Smith, this isn't right you have to stop...please Mr Smith I can't control it...no...oh Mr Smith, no...it's happening again...no...no,no...ooohhh...ooohhh...ooohhh...ooohhh...oh my god...Mr Smith...Nigel...aaaaahhhhhhhh...oh...aaaaahahhhhhh."

As she climaxed her sex clamped even tighter on me. The moment had come. As her hips rose into her orgasm, mine came crashing down, thrusting my hardness into the depths of her body as my seed erupted from my shaft and filled her sex. My own grunts drowned out hers; the pleasure overwhelming my brain and leaving me oblivious to anything except the continuing rushing jets of ecstasy up my shaft until my orgasm had run its course and I was drained of cum.

As my brain refocused on its surroundings I found myself lying on top of Tash with her arms tightly binding my neck down onto her.

"Wow Ned. Can we do that again one day?"

"Ned says yes. But Mr Smith says only if you don't tell your parents."

[Postscript

Some of my readers are (quite legitimately) concerned I will never get around to letting them know what lay behind my teaser at the end of chapter 15 that Issie returns after everyone is back in Australia. They'd like to be put out of what could be a prolonged misery with a synopsis (of a story not yet written). Why not; I don't think there's going to be any real spoilers.

When the trip is over Ned offers them a transition into real life by letting them share his large house on his acreage on Bayview Heights, overlooking Pittwater in Sydney while they get jobs, boyfriends and accommodation. The jobs come, but each brings her own level of enthusiasm to the issue of boyfriends let alone moving out.

Amy, perhaps scarred by her previously bad relationship, is comfortable with what she has with Ned and reluctant to move on. The younger ones try, but find Tinder and the local pub rather unsatisfactory experiences and never really get around to even losing their "condom free" status within the household.

Issie was disillusioned with her native Italy. In her small home town all her friends were married or had moved on to the big cities. When she moved to Rome, she was lonely and was unhappy with the men she met there. She qualifies for a 457 visa to work in Australia; so she too returns to Ned's fold.

So Ned's life becomes something between being the guru in a 70's style hippie open love commune and a modern day parent whose kids refuse to leave home; except these kids aren't his and they come with benefits.

The younger ones have time on their side. But Issie's biological clock is ticking loudly and Amy's is not that far behind. Issie finds it just as hard to find a satisfactory man in Australia as she did in Italy; which raises the question of whether Ned would be a father again. Don't know. We'll need to get that far. Maybe that issues becomes the focus of the emotional side of the story.]