Unexpected Threesome Ch. 19

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Joanmcarthy
Joanmcarthy
1,227 Followers

In a way, both Ellen and I have each been given a bit of what Issie previously had of him. Ellen's intellect is as formidable as her knowledge of sailing and of boats and you can see Ned often bowing to her judgement and letting her take the lead in nautical things. But I've known Ned for much longer and increasingly I've found him turning to me more often for personal conversation and non-physical intimacy; something that I feel brings us even closer together.

Do I ever wake up of a morning and look across and think 'god, I'm sleeping with an old man'? Once or twice. Then I look again and realise he's got a body many current 30 year olds would die for, and I'm actually sleeping with a man who loves and respects me in a way I've never know before. But most morning I just wake up and think 'I'm sleeping with my lover'.

The days that followed the pussy stack were intensely busy as we tried to cover everything we wanted to see on Huahine but had been too distracted to do earlier. Compared to our normal routines, they were also surprisingly light on sex.

The night of the pussy stack it was Ellen and I who slept with Ned. Exhausted from the full day of surfing, we both slept in, waking to find Ned was already out of the bed. And because we were out looking around the island all day, Tash didn't get any solo time with him either. I think it was the first time since it all started that Ned went a full day and night without sex.

The following night it was Ellen and Tash in the bed and while I heard something of a subdued morning romp, it was quick and relatively quiet by the standards of the boat. We had it slated for another surfing day; which meant another trip in the RIB.

I would have been quite happy to have spent the whole trip bending over the side of the boat displaying my tush to Ned. But now Tash had outed Ned for it, I felt a bit more inhibited. This time Tash would know I was doing it deliberately and do a sort of slut shaming on me.

Still, there's more than one way to flaunt yourself and get a guy to grow some wood in your presence and after making sure I was opposite him again, in the tight confines of a bouncing RIB, I played the full range of them; having my breasts bounce out of a bikini top that hadn't been tied as tightly as it needed to be, nipples on high beam in the wind in a wet unlined top, legs spread wide apart to brace myself, falling on him as I tried to move in the rocking boat and as much butt display as I dared without attracting comment from Tash.

I could watch, almost with amusement, as Ellen played the same games; wicked glances between us from time to time, making it clear we knew what the other was doing (and had no problem with it). And the combined effect was to keep Ned with at least half a mongrel (Ellen's term for a half erection) for the whole trip.

Tash, on the other hand actually seemed oblivious to it. This time she was alongside and forward of Ned, where Ellen had been on the previous trip, so in a way was directly in Ned's line of natural vision as he looked forward driving the boat. And there's no doubt he was copping an eyeful of only partly covered humungous breasts in profile, bouncing dangerously in the waves.

But I spent much of the time focusing on where Ned was looking and I was fairly sure that's not what was giving Ned wood. I'd innocently look away whenever he looked my way so as not to put him off, but I know my crotch and breasts were an enormous distraction to him, as were Ellen's. Just occasionally I'd be late shifting my vision as he took another peek at some part of me and I'd just flash him a benevolent smile before looking elsewhere, leaving him to his visual pleasures; or even exaggerating them as I did when I bounced my breasts out of the top for him as we took a wave.

From time to time Tash would look back and even glance down at the wood in Ned's swimmers. But she never really gave the impression she was deliberately flaunting herself at him. And I think that partly reflects the difference in the relationship she has with Ned.

Ellen and I need him emotionally. To that end we use our youthful bodies to keep his attention and his performance at a peak. We're in competition with each other, but not really. But we both have what Ellen calls a 'fear of missing out' which makes us put some effort into the whole exercise.

Tash sort of sits above all that. As long as she can get sex on demand, she's getting what she wants. She has no emotional needs that Ned has to fulfil for her.

Issie had sort of indoctrinated into her the thought that if you want to keep Ned's performance up then you need to keep his testosterone on the boil, and that means flaunting your body to do it. But for her it's a mechanical process. Wearing the right swimwear while around him is about the limit of the effort she feels the need to make. She enjoys playing with him in an overtly sexual manner because she's naturally playful and his natural reaction feeds her ego. But in the end, she's fairly confident that when she wants sex all she really has to do is present her womanly crotch to Ned and he'll service her to her heart's and pussy's content; and in that she's probably right.

But for her, there's no competitive pressure; although I did detect she was a bit peeved by the fact Ned was focusing on my butt last time we did this trip instead of her partly exposed one.

When we got to the beach we fell into the same routine as last time; parking the RIB just around the corner from the surf in the shelter of the lagoon, setting up our gear in the semi shade of the tropical vegetation and Ellen and Tash taking first turn on the two boards we had. Which was fine by me, because I had plans for me time with Ned.

The analytical side of me divides the sex I share with Ned into four broad categories.

The first might be called, in a far too cynical manner, technical sex. Technical because Ned has worked out all the buttons to hit to give me orgasms and he approaches the sex with what almost seems to be the objective of giving me as many as possible before he goes off himself. And I'm being too cynical because it's great sex, it's actually fantastic sex, the sort of sex many women can only dream of; it is just that it's very positional and sequential.

The second is almost the opposite; when I ask him to 'go the animal on me'. When I effectively ask him to just penetrate me and unleash all his passion and go for it. Ned being Ned, he usually feels the need to warm me up with an orgasm or two first, but the fact is, he doesn't need to. When he goes the animal it unleashes something in me too - his passion becomes mine - which makes sure I get as much out of it as he does.

And that contrasts with the third; sex - or more strictly, penetration - as intimacy. Here an orgasm is almost irrelevant to the whole experience. What I really want is for Ned just to penetrate me and stay there. To let me enjoy the deepest possible experience of his body and company for as long as possible. While he's inside my body I can feel as though he's mine and only mine; the rest of the world can cease to exist. While it often finishes with an orgasm, it is really a case of the longer that is postponed the better.

Then finally, there is perhaps the sweetest of all; but one best kept for special occasions or to fulfil an aching need. That's when he makes beautiful love to me. It's sex that is animated, arousing and with a passion driven by tenderness and love instead of lust and desire. It's slow and unhurried as he stimulates my whole body with every part of his.

Even before we'd left that morning, I planned to capture Ned to make beautiful love to me on the beach while the other girls were out surfing. It had been too long; since before Issie had announced her departure with all the turmoil that had brought on. Issie's departure, Tash's arrival and all the surrounding circumstances had culminated in me feeling a hollowness that only such a physical demonstration of Ned's love for me could fill.

Even my choice of bikini for the day had been governed by my intentions.

As we laid out the towels and sat down on them, I wasn't going to waste any time. My brain had been focusing on this moment since we'd approached the beach. I was wet with desire; my nipples already tight and jutting in aroused anticipation.

No sooner had Ned sat beside me on the towels than I turned towards him, wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered in his ear...

"Make beautiful love to me."

Immediately I lay back, dragging him half on top of me to offer him no choice. Tenderly he brushed his hand through my hair and pecked my on the lips.

"Making love to you is always beautiful."

I reached down between our bodies to find his manhood already starting to stretch out his swimmers, running the tip of my finger along it to accelerate the process. Knowing that 'beautiful love' is unhurried, Ned ignored my provocation, caressing my cheek and running his hand repeated through my hair as his light kisses became more intense, his tongue penetrating my mouth and wrestling with mine as his body pressed ever more closely against me.

As I wrapped my fingers around his still swimmer encased erection, he glided the back of his fingers down my neck and up over my breast, circling my nipple until he had teased it into a jutting peak pushing out the filmy material of my bikini top, then gently flicked his fingertip over the top of it, teasing it to ever greater hardness.

Pleased with the result, he did the same to the other nipple; extracting from me a little moan of pleasure.

His manhood had swelled to complete hardness within my grip and was now gently surging as I slowly jerked it up and down. As I ran my thumb across the tip of it I felt a little drop of pre-cum had penetrated through the material. Unhurriedly, I slipped my fingers inside the waistband, ferreted out the drawstring and pulled it to release the knot, then peeled the stretched material back to expose him before embracing the now naked flesh.

He ran his finger down my torso, letting it slip over the waistband of my bikini and run down into my crotch where he put enough pressure on to push it into my crease. There he ran his finger gloriously over my already swollen bud, inducing me to lift my hips and moan again in unexaggerated pleasure.

As I continued to run my palm up and down his shaft, using pre-cum collected by my thumb to lubricate it, he brought his fingers back and slipped them inside the waist band of my bikini to rub them against the wet and slippery flesh of my clit. Already he had me squirming under him, unable, indeed unwilling, to suppress the moans and groans of my rising arousal.

He pulled aside one of the triangles of my bikini top and brought his mouth down, flicking the hardened nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth and twirling it around as I felt his fingers slip down my crease and bend into my receptive sex. Quickly he found my g spot, my little squeal of delight giving him all the confirmation he needed of it.

The all out assault on my erogenous zones had started; fingers on my g spot, thumb on my clit, tongue on my nipple. He always left me powerless to do anything but surrender to the rising tide of my orgasm. My screaming has become a joke amongst the others - an embarrassment since it can often be heard all around the anchorage when we're on the yacht. But I can't help myself. I'm overwhelmed by the flood of pleasure to my brain; it's like a pressure valve until the climax itself explodes it out of my system for the process to start all over again.

My thighs were quivering, my hips slowly rising off the towel in anticipation of the virtual seizure my orgasm would bring. As it burst upon me, my hips just rose as I clamped my hand over the one Ned had in my crotch; automatic reactions that could no more be controlled than the flow of water out of a burst dam.

Ned waited, still flicking my nipple, but holding his fingers still against my sensitive bud, as my orgasm washed through me; one wave and then a second before my hips could be lowered fully back onto the sand.

But I knew that was not the end, merely the foretaste of what was to come.

Ned started to pull at my pants, but instead of lifting my hips to let him pull them off, I stayed his hand.

"You want to leave them on?"

"Would you mind?"

"Can I leave the exposed breast?"

"Yes."

Ned is so understanding. I can't explain why sometimes I delight in our completely naked bodies being joined and sometimes I want the feel of my bikini still on. I do know though why I like bikini sex.

Sometimes, when I ask for him to go the animal on me, it can add to the forbidden feeling of being ravished; there wasn't even time to remove clothes. Even the dishevelled state that leaves me in can add to the sexual frisson and I've been known to leave it on afterwards; soaked in cum and dreaming of him returning for a second round.

But when I'm wanting him to make beautiful love, that can hardly be the reason. The whole idea is unhurried romantic lovemaking. No it's deeper than that and, as much as I don't think Frank has left me damaged, it does emerge from my time with him.

When you're persuaded that you're ugly and denied the ability to wear anything remotely sexy, when you're told that your lady parts are disgusting to look at and then after a decade, discover that you look good enough in a sexy bikini to give a man an erection at 20 paces, that bikini can make you feel sexy as well. All the more so when you discover that teasing can have its own powerful effect on men and the press of the tightly stretched filmy material on your erogenous zones carries with it its own constant low level stimulation. Add to that some residual insecurity about the appearance of my lady parts even though I now know they compare pretty favourably with any of the other girls and the knowledge that the pulled aside leg hem rubs against my labia as Ned's thrusting in a way that stimulates my clit, and you can see why I might have a thing about it.

Ned prefers me naked, indeed really gets off on the process of stripping me; but he understands and indulges me. But he does like a bare boob, so I always give him that.

But I also know Ned likes to be naked. So now it was me who pulled at the back of the waistband of his swimmers, dragging it down far enough that I could hook my toe under them and drag them off his body. He in turn pulled aside the gusset of my bikini to give him access to that part of my body that now so desired him.

I guided Ned's shaft to the opening of my sex, encouraging him to fully mount me. As he swung his knee over me and took his weight on his haunches and elbows, I felt his hardness play around the edge of it, the tip just immersed, surging a bit with Ned's excitement. He pushed himself in a bit further and I felt the full thickness of his manhood start to push aside what little resistance the velvet folds of my wet, excited pussy offered. Gently he indulged me with some shallow thrusts, testing my body's readiness for him.

All the while he's nuzzling at my neck, whispering into my ear how wonderful my body feels and how much he's desiring me.

Bit by teasing bit he edged his way into the depths of my sex with a series of slow ever deepening thrusts, until my body fully embraced the joy of his excited hardness.

For a moment he let it rest there as he stroked his cheek against mine, pecking at my lips and playfully sucked the turn of my chin. Then a thrust, out and in, pushing hard against me as if he's trying to reach out with his extended manhood and stroke my cervix while his pubis pushed against my clit. He circled his torso and hips, his chest brushing my jutting nipples while his pubis brushed against the very tip of my clit and the base of his shaft caused the leg seam of my bikini to rub my wet labia against the deeper parts of its swollen, oh so sensitive length.

I release a moan and involuntarily jerk my hips upward and could feel his lips extend in a smile against my cheek.

Slowly he started thrusting; gentle, measured thrusts as his body circled, all at once brushing and teasing nipples, labia and clit while touching every part of the depth of my embracing sex. My body was lighting up to him again. Even my g spot, still sensitive from its previous stimulation, was being excited by the slippery play of his shaft against it.

Oh god, its building already. Once he gives me that first orgasm, it's like my body just can't resist him. It responds to his every provocation. I just hope there's no one nearby because already my uncontrollable moans are growing louder.

Ned's sucks delightfully at my neck as his thrusts continue. Slowly he works down, sinking his pubis between my outstretched legs and arching up his back to keep his thrusts deep as his head slowly works down my neck, across my upper chest and over the crest of my right breast. The anticipation of what I know is about to come is killing me. Then he does it, flicking his tongue repeatedly across the sensitive jutting nipple.

Oh god, it's too much. Oh fuck, oh shit, I go off like a bomb. Already? I don't know how he does it. I arched my back up and ground against him. But he didn't stop. Still he kept up the slow constant thrusts. My nipple was now is in his mouth, his tongue swirling around its circumference. His fingers had teased up the other one, tweaking it up between two of them, sliding the thin material of the bikini top which still covers it sensually across its surface.

The orgasm just wouldn't finish and I couldn't cease moaning. Wave after wave of contractions wracked my body as it shuddered in an extended flood of pleasure. Ned still didn't stop. Every point of sensitivity on and in my body was being stimulated. Unless it's through my g spot I wouldn't have thought myself likely to have vaginal orgasms, but when Ned gets me like this, it's not just my nipples, clit and g spot that is feeding the orgasm. It's like every square millimetre of the surface of my vagina is responding too.

Just when I think it's over another orgasm quickly builds and I go off again with a string of screamed profanities and an even more powerful thrust of my hips. It's like Ned's riding a wild bronco and yet nothing stays him from the slow, gentle, circling, loving, full depth thrusts he keeps delivering; all the while stimulating my nipples into enormous, hard, exquisitely sensitive peaks.

"Are you loving it?"

"Oh god yes Ned, keep going, please... ooohhhhhhhhhhhh."

I'm beyond conversation. In the throes of a pleasure almost too great to endure.

"You know you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, don't you?"

"Oh Ned..." I couldn't finish. His words have pierced my brain and triggered the most powerful orgasm yet. My hips are raised, pressing down against him, grinding myself on him as I feel my contractions pummel his hardness.

"Amy, I don't think I can hold back any longer. I'm..."

"Let yourself go Ned. Give yourself the best one you can."

His mouth abandoned my nipple as he raised his head and straightened out his body; his thrusts growing faster and more powerful. I looked up to see him staring down, wide eyed, at my breasts. I gripped him tighter, using the momentum of his thrusts to wobble my breasts as much as I could.

By now he was grunting in that deep male voice he gets during sex.

Each thrust came harder and faster until his rammed himself as deep as he could inside me and held it there. With a deep bellowing moan he pumped his seed out into me; paused for a moment, rammed again and delivered another rope. Three of those and he collapsed down onto me; shuddering and groaning as his body was wracked by a multitude of little mini climaxes.

Joanmcarthy
Joanmcarthy
1,227 Followers