Unexpected Threesome Ch. 27

As I ran my finger through her crease for the first time, I found it moist and with her clit swollen. She gave a quiet hum with the first stroke before going back to acting as if nothing was happening. As her hand returned to my thigh, she searched for the zip of my fly and fumbled about trying to undo it; succeeding only after some effort.

She was about to put her hand inside when we sensed our entrees coming, forcing us both to stop touching up the other. Gloria placed our meals in front of us before moving to an adjoining table to clear some plates. Ellen saw me watching her and turned just in time to see Gloria reach across the table. It was not a typical waitress pose. Clearing the plate from the far side of the table, she leaned on it as, with legs apart, she bent deeply forward at the hip and then curved her torso to bring her chest nearly upright. The result, and even I couldn't deny it was intended, was to lift up the back of her pareo to display an orange satin thong with the bulge of her mons visible between her spread legs and some very nice butt cheek, without giving the guy at the other table a down skirt look.

As Gloria retreated, Ellen leant in, raised her eyebrows and whispered good humouredly...

"I'd better be careful. That was a 'fuck me' display if I've ever seen one. I think she's after you."

A moment later Gloria returned with the bottle of wine we'd ordered. We waited patiently while Gloria poured a glass for each of us and then set up the ice bucket for it. She stood just a little bit too close as I tasted the wine, my elbow inadvertently slipping across her stomach as I raised the glass to my mouth.

As Gloria retreated again, Ellen added to her last comment.

"Oh my god. She's all but throwing herself at you."

"She can't be more than 25. It's all Amy's fault for what she said to the manager. Except for that I'd just be some very uninteresting old European fart."

"The fact you've had two different young women on consecutive days doesn't help. She probably thinks you just have a queue of them ready for screwing and she can join it for the asking."

No sooner had I finished my entrée than Ellen took my hand and put it back in her crease; coolly taking up her glass and having a sip through the smirk on her face as I started fingering her. Only then did she put her hand back in my lap and start trying to get at the erection which soon formed in amongst the layers of clothing.

I quickly regretted having a pair of cotton men's briefs on as underwear; the material was relatively thick and they didn't have much stretch in them. With the short length of the zip in my chinos, Ellen found it just about impossible to extract what she was after. And the swollen edifice of what she was after was now crushed and bent in the confines of its pants prison.

And yet I'm not sure what would have been better. Commando would have given Ellen easier access, but equally exposed my stretched flesh to the vicious metal teeth of the zip. Light cotton boxers; maybe if I had any. A pair of my speedo swimwear would have at least been thinner and more stretchy to accommodate the growth and probably more slippery too, letting her pull it out of my pants more easily.

I knew from the lunch with Amy that probably commando in loose legged shorts would have been best of all, but didn't really match the ambience of the restaurant or the stunning company I was with. But in any case I had to wonder about the prudence of having my engorged cock hanging out of my pants, even if it was under the table.

Ellen's hand eventually wormed its way down the front of my undies to wrap her sensuous fingers around my hardened manhood and start jerking it. Fortunately she did it in situ, instead of extracting it from my pants. The sharp metal teeth of my fly would have made short work of it.

We were still fingering each other when Gloria returned for the plates. I quickly took my hand back as she bent over from the far side of the table to collect the plates; although Ellen left hers where it was; momentarily stilled.

There was no modest upward arch of Gloria's torso this time. As she reached across, her pareo hung down and the orbs of her attractive breasts were in full view; large dark brown nipples seductively capping them. She looked me in the eye with the sweetest, most innocent, face imaginable.

"Are you enjoying your meal Mr O'Neill?"

I smiled back at her.

"Yes thank you Gloria. It's delightful."

With the same view as mine, Ellen cruelly started jerking me off all the faster and harder. It was lucky I've never really been that enamoured of hand jobs; they somehow lacking the lubrication that makes it really stimulating. I fought to keep a straight face.

Gloria added with the broadest smile imaginable...

"I'm glad to hear that Mr O'Neill. Your main course will be here soon. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."

In no particular hurry, Gloria brought all the plates over to her side of the table, stacked them and only then lifted them and stood upright, pulling up the front of her pareo with one hand as she rose to make sure she didn't lose it completely.

As she left again I leaned over the Ellen.

"Were you trying to make me go off?"

"No, just helping you enjoy the view. She's doing a better job of getting your mojo up than I am. You'll have to leave her a generous tip."

"I thought you'd be annoyed."

"Are you going home with her?"

"No."

"Are you going to fuck her?"

"Lord no."

"Are you going to see her again after we leave here?"

"No."

"Then all she's doing is boosting my ego by telling me she wants something I've got and she can't have. You know what they say, jealously is the most sincere form of flattery."

"Isn't it imitation?"

"Yes, but jealously is unsatisfied desire for imitation, so another level up."

"That's a very mature attitude."

"I'm am very mature. Now get your finger back on my clit."

My fingers were wet with Ellen's juices by the time the main course arrived. Gloria played putting the plates down reasonably straight. But, as she reached in to top up our glasses, she brushed against me. As she stood up straight, a loose fold of her pareo hitched on my shoulder and the bottom hem of it was pulled up enough to expose her butt again. We both decided to ignore the incident.

"Is there anything else Mr O'Neill?"

"No, that's fantastic Gloria. We'll let you know if we need anything."

I pointedly picked up a piece of mushroom out of my dinner between my thumb and forefinger, the latter being one of the fingers I'd just had in Ellen's crease; holding it up as if I was savouring it before putting it in my mouth and licking my fingers.

"Hmmm, mushroom coated in special sauce. Would you like to taste it?"

"There plenty of sauce where that came from. I suppose what's good for the goose is good for the gander. OK."

I offered her a piece between my thumb and juice coated middle finger. She took the lot into her mouth up to the point my fingers joined my hand. Then singling up to my middle finger, slipped it in and out of her mouth seductively several times between puckered lips, sucking it vigorously.

"Yes, it reminds me of something. I'm not sure what."

We finished our main course at a leisurely pace accompanied by a wide ranging and always interesting conversation. Ellen had been a bit tanked up on the stream of afternoon and pre-dinner cocktails. The chilled wine, which went down all too easily in the tropics, was only adding its effect to what was already there.

Almost as soon as I put my cutlery down, she grabbed my hand and brought it back into her crease as she leaned towards me and rested her head on my shoulder; once again exposing her breasts to my view. Her state of arousal hadn't diminished much while we were eating and almost immediately I was able once again to tweak her swollen bud between two fingers.

You'd swear Raphael was waiting for his chance. He was quickly at the table and Ellen just as quickly clamped my hand into her crotch and held it there to prevent me pulling it away while using her other hand to ensure her action was well covered by the long tablecloth. With Ellen having closed the gap between us, he moved around to the other side of Ellen to slowly top up her wine and then shuffle the cutlery on her plate while having a good stare down the front of her dress. The way she was leaning towards me, he probably had a better view then even I did.

Ellen turned her head towards him without lifting it off my shoulder.

"Are you having a good night Raphael?"

"Yes Mademoiselle."

I was feeling a bit playful myself. At this point I slipped my fingers through her crease and penetrated into her sex. She tensed, but far from using her hand to pull my fingers out, applied pressure to encourage me to push them in deeper.

I bent my fingers to tickle up her g spot. She tensed a bit further and couldn't hold back a supressed undertext of a moan as she asked Raphael...

"Not too busy then?"

"No mademoiselle. Would mademoiselle like to see the dessert menu?"

"Maybe come back in a little while." adding "Thank you" as he lifted her plate away.

Raphael moved around to the other side of me to collect my plate; still transfixed by the view he had of Ellen and forgetting to top up my wine too before he left.

"Now who's flirting then?"

"Yes well, I'm entitled to my turn too."

I could feel Ellen's body start to tense in the way she sometimes does approaching an orgasm. If she was edging again, she was taking it to the limit. But Ellen's been known to squirt with a g spot orgasm. That didn't seem to be a good idea where we were. So even though she lightly resisted the movement, I pulled my now very wet fingers out and slipped them back up to her clit.

It was only a minute later she froze and tightened up; letting out a bare perceptible moan into my ear as she came. Had it been Amy, the whole room would have known, but I was always confident Ellen would be more discrete.

I whispered into her ear.

"I thought you were edging."

"I fell over it."

"Is that going to ruin your night?"

"You'll just have to work harder. But it's not every girl who can say they've had an orgasm mid meal in the main dining room of a hatted restaurant. It was worth it for the skiting rights."

"Aren't you meant to go orgasmic over the food? Maybe take a photo for Facebook of its presentation?"

"To each their own. The foods nice, but your finger's better. And there's no way Facebook will publish any photo of what I want to skite about."

Gloria had been busy across the room and had even missed Raphael's clean-up of our main course. Now she idled up to me on the side away from Ellen, offering me a clipboard.

""Would you like to see the dessert options Mr O'Neill?"

I took the offered menu and Gloria leant across me to pass one to Ellen too; her pareo where it covered her breast all but brushing across my nose. She stood there, her crotch momentarily brushing across the elbow I had on the arm of the chair as she stood back upright and then coming to rest still in contact. In any other circumstance I would have quickly pulled my arm away and mumbled an apology. But my elbow hadn't moved. She'd instigated the contact quite deliberately; albeit with plausible deniability.

Perhaps I was feeling as cheeky, emboldened and intoxicated as Ellen. But, pretending not to notice, I left it there as I studied the menu; the bare flesh of my elbow slowly becoming sensitised to the details of the contact. It was under the hem of her pareo. I could feel the satin of her panties and the flesh of her thighs on either side of it. I was fairly sure I could also feel a camel toe through her panties with the little projecting bone on the end of the bent elbow pushed into it.

There was certainly a radiated warmth; maybe a little dampness.

Ellen had sat back up to look at the menu and I saw her cast a glance at the contact and smirk a little before looking me in the eyes. The menu seemed to have many interesting possibilities, but they were described with a number of French words whose meanings were ambiguous to both of us. Ellen cast me a subtle wink, turned the menu around without lifting it any higher and pointed to a word, asking Gloria what it was.

In exactly the way I expect Ellen thought she would, Gloria bent over me to look at Ellen's menu, backing off enough that her breasts hung just to the side of my eyes, her pareo hanging loose from the front of her body in a way that completely exposed her breasts and gave me a look through the gap right down to where I could see the crotch of her panties and the top of her thighs underneath it. Her face was across mine, apparently focused on Ellen and the menu she was holding; offering me the illusion I could perve without being seen by her. But we both understood the game being played.

I had to admit, it was a distracting sight. Delightful breasts capped by quite large dark coloured nipples, beautiful mid brown skin, a slim, drawn in stomach flaring out to shapely hips and a pronounced mound bulging out her tiny panties.

She hung there as she answered Ellen's first questions and stayed as Ellen pointed to a succession of words requiring explanation. All the while Ellen's looking from the menu, to down Gloria's pareo to my eyes; amusing herself greatly by facilitating Gloria's obvious flirtations in order to tease me.

I was listening to Gloria's answers more than matching them with words on the menu. My eyes were elsewhere.

Finished her game, Ellen let Gloria stand up again as she turned the menu back to herself. As before, Gloria had to hold the front of her pareo as she stood up; hitching the front of it back over the top of her outthrust breasts to stop it falling off her. Then she somehow managed to once again stand close enough to me to bring her crotch back onto my elbow as she waited for our order.

Even having taken our order, Gloria wasn't giving up. She cleared the main course plates from the adjoining table with a legs apart bend across it that displayed a mound bulge that left no doubt as to either the camel toe or the dampness.

The dessert came and was eaten with Gloria offering another flash as she cleared the table. It seemed eventually as if she had it down to a fine art. When she delivered the bill I unfolded it to discover a torn off bit of paper with a telephone number. I waited until Gloria was gone and then showed it to Ellen; putting it in my pocket because I felt at the time it would be rude to leave it. Ellen asked me what tip I was leaving and when I showed her, she suggested I double it.

We were ready to leave. By this stage Ellen was no more sober than Amy had been. Sex was clearly on her mind - completely dominating it. It had been right through dinner. But it manifested itself differently to Amy. With Amy she was wanting to be all over me like a rash. Ellen's was a bit more strategic; outrageously flirtatious and sexy. She knew what was coming, indeed was orchestrating it. But she was treating it as a building storm; an approaching hurricane.

Sexual frisson was in the air like lightning bolts in a monster electrically charged thunder cloud that proceeded the main storm. The wind of desire was building to irresistible force. You could feel the tension building before the storm front.

The games she played with Gloria had simply been part of the build-up. She wanted me randy and aroused and it didn't much matter to her what brought that about.

As we walked back to the bungalow, she played like a little girl, one minute her breasts bouncing delightfully as she skipped alongside me holding my hand, the next running out in front of me, pacing backwards as she turned towards me, bent forward to reveal her breasts and the split of her dress quite deliberately opened to reveal in the half-light a v of nakedness that ran from her navel to her ankles.

"Are you feeling randy Mr O'Neill?"

"You know I am."

"Am I the object of your desire?"

"Completely."

"Are you sure you don't want to run off back to the cute little waitress?"

"No, I want you."

"OOOhhh, really Mr O'Neill. What are you going to do with me?"

"I think the more pertinent question would be what you're going to do with me."

"Am I looking sexy in this dress?"

"Ravishingly."

"Are you turned on by it?"

"Desperately."

"Is your cock hard and needy?"

"It has been right through dinner."

"Are you looking forward to stripping me out of it?"

"I might just fuck you in it."

"Oh Mr O'Neill you are bold. But do you know what I've got planned for you?"

"Dare I ask?"

Ellen closed the gap between us. In a moment we'd embraced each other in a sort of dancer's hold; like in a graceful waltz, Ellen stepping backwards in time with the movement of my own legs. She ground her crotch against the swollen hardness filling my pants and brushed her top across my shirt to dislodge the triangle covering her right breast and completely expose it.

"I'm going to fuck your cock right off your body. By the time I'm finished with you tonight you're going to be a drained, shrivelled up shadow of the stud I started with. And then I might just leave you outside on the doorstop to become Gloria's plaything."

"Won't you take mercy on a poor old man?"

"You've turned me on with your hard body, good looks, intelligence, humour and kindness. Not to mention a magic cock. Sorry but now you have to pay the price. You should have thought about that before driving a woman wild with desire."

"I could easily turn myself into a pathetic, whiney dag if that would help."

"That sort of silly disguise isn't going to save you. You've got a charge sheet for good sex a mile long. No body's going to fall for that pretence."

By this stage we'd reached the point where the gangway to our bungalow joined the main boardwalk. Ellen stopped.

"Can I have the key?"

I gave it to her. By this stage of my stay at the resort, being led into the room for sex was almost becoming par for the course. When I'd first suggested these 'dates' with the girls it had never occurred to me what fuck feasts they'd become. I'd seriously misjudged the forces I'd unleash by giving the girls time alone with me for what I thought would merely be a romantic interlude.

Ellen led me by the hand down the gangway, swiped the card and took me inside somewhat more calmly than either she or Amy had done so on previous occasions. It seemed like her playful sass talking was something of a substitute for a rush to action. She placed the key on the sideboard and turned to face me, leaning back against it.

She opened up the flaps if the dress to once again expose herself from her navel down and then pulled aside the triangles of her top to expose her breasts. There was something about her that was a picture of arousal; swollen labia, hard jutting nipples, maybe even swollen breasts and eyes like dinner plates. My heart was pounding at the thought of the sexual indulgence ahead of me.

"You want to fuck me in the dress? Here I am. Entertain me as you strip yourself naked and come and take me in it...But, you can't cum. I've got a lot more planned for you before I let you do that."

I was grinning at her like a demented child as I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned my shirt and removed it, and then undid my belt and pants and dropped them and my undies to the floor. Stylish stripteases had never been my forte and I wasn't in any case dressed for one; cursing again the heavy cotton undies. I tried, but had no illusion it was anything other than an awkward, amateurish attempt. Naked, I stood momentarily in front of her, my erection, freed at last from it constrictive clothing prison, hard and reaching up towards my own navel in its anxiety.