Unexpected Threesome Ch. 30

Privacy might have been nice. But the whole purpose of having two watches of two person was to have two people on deck at all times. Nothing would be more tragic than having a helmsperson disappear overboard while their watch mate was down below having sex.

The second night Ellen sought a repeat performance at the end of the 4 to 8 am watch. At least that meant I didn't need to feel guilty about taking my PFD off when my own rules said they had to be worn during the hours of darkness. But it also meant her beauty was laid out under me in the full light of the morning.

It wasn't as spectacular. No hips thrown up, no g spot orgasm and no squirting. And yet, for me, it was even more enjoyable; maybe one of the best I've had. Chastened from the previous night, I took her with the passion she wanted; jumping on her and giving immediate vent to my lust. What followed was just a long session of hard thrusting on top; pounding away at this beautiful women in a way that gave me permission to maximise my own enjoyment, secure in the knowledge her truly spectacular clit would get itself stimulated more than enough to satisfy her and finished with a bellowing, ear shattering roar that gave full vent to the intensity of my climax. And as it turned out, I still got to feel and see her have two orgasms before mine.

By now I might have worked out how to maximise my enjoyment and get the best orgasms; but that doesn't mean I understand the anatomy of it. I tend to assume that the sometimes mind-blowing rush of pleasure up your shaft at the moment of release is caused by the push of your ejaculate. But what about what I would call the second and sometimes third waves of it? The timing doesn't seem right for it to merely be additional ropes of cum. And then there's the shuddering little mini-climaxes that follow a really good release; where just jiggling my shaft inside her produces additional intense feelings of pleasure. I describe then as my body emptying my balls of every last drop of cum; squeezing out every last seed as if nature has dictated that it is even more important for me to impregnate a woman who can give me that sort of climax.

Each and every one feels like a climax in itself; and yet we know that us men only get one.

And since I have been fortunate enough in life to spend most of it ejaculating into women and not into my hand, it's not exactly something I've got to study.

The following night Ellen tried interrupting my intention to pound Amy at the end of our off watch after being penetrated into her while we slept. Sensing I was awake and Amy wasn't, she attracted my attention through the hatch and made it pretty clear she wanted me and my erection on deck. As silly as it sounds, I suspect Ellen just felt Amy was getting an excess of my sperm compared to her. But that is just my guess at the psychology.

But it was a bit of a failure. As we made out in front of Tash, Ellen got the sperm alright. A fraction of a minute after we started - just like happened with Amy. You can't be enjoying erotic dreams, with your cock up a woman, for that long without it affecting your endurance and a change of woman doesn't change the outcome. So I had to give Ellen some head and fingering to satisfy her needs.

And when she did it the following night, the result was the same.

Which brings us to Tash.

She doesn't feel the emotionally driven competitive pressures that Amy and Ellen feel. But she got to watch and hear an awful lot of sex during the five days we were at sea; and that inevitably had an impact on her own level of sexual frustration.

On the third day out, in the middle of Amy and my midday watch, she came on deck in one of her old one piece swimsuits and went to the bow, where she loitered watching the bow wave while bent over the pulpit. The one piece swimsuit is our recognised signal that she wants to be taken by me and the way she postured where she was gave me a fairly clear indication of what she wanted.

I asked Amy to look after the boat while I went forward.

I found these role plays hard enough to do when it was just Tash and me in a private setting. Tash it seems is into bondage and likes me to role play taking her in, let me say, a way that leaves her no option but to comply, to assuage her conscience about having sex with a lover more than twice her age. The one piece swimsuit is our agreed signal for that game to begin and in this game, 'no' definitely doesn't mean 'no' unless the safe word is used.

The fact is, I'm a lousy actor and I hate even acting out forcing a woman into sex. But a deal with Tash is a deal. My only salvation is that Tash is an even worse actor than me, so her played resistance is so pathetic as to almost negate the whole charade. Still, doing it in front of Amy was another level of challenge.

I can't deny that Tash in these one pieces is a picture of sexualised womanhood. The old ones like these are left over from her squad swimming days and clearly were bought before her last growth spurt. Knowing Tash they were probably pushing the boundary in the first place, but now they are stretched to bursting just for her to get into them; leg hems stretched to the top of her hips, backs plunging down to the top of her bum crack with the material itself folded up into her bum crease, neck hems barely covering the nipples which cap her large breasts and the breasts themselves seemingly ready to burst through the old and desiccated material. To cap it all, the tightly drawn material highlights and exaggerates her mound as it moulds to its flesh and is drawn up into her crease in a pronounced camel toe.

If they were ever lined, they no longer were - even through the gusset. With much of the filling having worn out of the Lycra material, they ranged from translucent to completely transparent; especially if they got wet.

This deterioration of their swimwear is why you see most squad swimmers wearing multiple layers of swimsuit because the cost of constantly replacing chlorine affected ones is just too great.

If they were the right size, the saggy material would probably look fairly daggy. But stretched tautly over the body of a woman they were never remotely designed to fit, the result was spectacular. More so since the material was now fragile and often showed places where Tash had put a fingernail through the cloth while pulling it on. They did invite one to rip and ravage, which is probably why Tash chose them as the signal.

This particular one was a plain orange colour of a shade which nicely complemented her pale skin.

It was debatable whether the bow was the best place for this. Unbeknown to Tash, while she was asleep below, something of a cross swell, from a storm further South, had developed over the top of the wind waves of the SE trades. Every now and then the bow would dip into a trough of the trade wind swell at the moment a peak of the cross swell would slap against the bow. It would burst on it and explode into a cascade of water which drenched the foredeck. There was little power in it and it was nothing dangerous. In this heat, might even be welcome. But it might catch her by surprise.

At least with the genoa rolled up so we could fly the asymmetrical spinnaker off a short bow pole, there was plenty of room for both Tash and me in front of the forestay.

Am I meant to sneak up on Tash, run at her threateningly or just amble up and then turn forceful? Is it the forcing or mere bondage that is really important to Tash? Even after our lengthy talk, I didn't really know how to approach this whole exercise and felt even more anxious and self-conscious about it in front of Amy.

I ambled up innocently; certainly enjoying the view I had of her bent over butt with her swollen mound between her legs - just like last time. On the pulpit seat there was a roll of black electrical tape. OK, that told me how she wanted the game played.

Naked as I was, I was fairly aroused before I even reached her. When I got there, I bent my shaft down and put it between her legs, surging it to push it into the camel toe through her mound. At the same time I put my hands over hers; pinning them to the pulpit. Then I started slowly drawing my shaft back and forwards through her crease; knowing it would be stimulating her clit.

"No, no, don't."

Really! Did we have to go through this? I played the game.

"Yes, yes, I will. I need a good fuck and you're going to give it to me."

I took one hand off hers and reached for the tape, starting to bind the pinned hand to the pulpit rail. She struggled, using her free hand to try to resist the binding. She struggled persuasively, but never enough to stop me.

"No, please, no."

With one hand bound, we had a tussle to grab and pin down the other one. But all the time, she's actually sliding her crease back and forward along my shaft quite rapidly; clearly enjoying the sexuality of the wrestling match. I took my time overpowering her, letting her make the most of it.

As her resistance faltered, I took it as a sign she was ready to move on and taped the second hand down; leaving her helpless and with limited options to resist me further and me with no shortage of options as to what to do with her; although limited by her doggy style presentation to me.

Mind you, doggy style sex isn't my favourite. When you've got a girl - especially one with a figure like Tash's and her towering breasts - it always seems to me to be a terrible waste not to be facing her so you can be aroused even more by the femineity of her figure. Still, if that's what turns her on, I was happy to comply; more so since she was relatively sex deprived compared to the others at that stage of the trip.

If cloth ripping was part of her game, that was a good place to start. I noticed the line of material down her bum crack was particularly worn and desiccated; it does rather seem to be where Lycra swimwear goes first. So without stopping my slow rubbing of my shaft through her crease, I ripped the lower part of it apart down to the crotch join and simply slipped my erection inside her swimwear to give her the feel of my hardened flesh directly against her swollen bud.

A little moan told me she liked it and I didn't doubt I could bring her to an orgasm that way. And certainly the feeling of my sensitive firm flesh slipping through her wet, slippery, crease was pleasant enough for me too, especially with the strange sensation of my shaft poking into and being encased by the front of her swimmers as I pushed in. I giggled at the imagined sight of it; a long thin Pinocchio nose of stretched spandex being pushed out from between her legs and disappearing back in again every time I pushed forward and withdrew. And I could add to both our enjoyment by wrapping my arms around her, putting my hands inside her swimmers and teasing up her nipples.

But there was something about it that made it seem just too mechanical. There flashed into my mind that scene out of Love Actually where the two lighting, stand in, actor replacements stimulate sex. Nearly naked, they rub themselves against each other stimulating sex for the director and lighting assistant in a completely mechanical sexless way. I wanted to give Tash what she sought, but I wanted something a little more passionate.

I dropped to my knees, turned around, shuffled backwards and brought my head up between her legs. Bending my neck back gave me a spectacular view of her swollen, spandex covered mound, a giant wet camel toe running through it and towering above it the front of her torso, bent over me.

Gravity can be the enemy of breasts; although Tash was still young enough hers were still naturally perky. But there are times it can also make them wondrous. With Tash bent over and her upper torso nearly horizontal, hers now hung down in a way that made them look humongous. With the nipples that capped them already teased into jutting prongs by my playing with them, the worn out spandex did nothing but stretch even more as they hung down far enough to nearly rest on the pulpit seat and block the path of my head. I strained my eyes up to see if I could make eye contact with her, but that possibility was also blocked by her breasts until she bent her head down enough that her eyes just peeked out from below them.

"What are you doing down there?"

I would have thought my intentions were obvious; but I still answered her.

"You'll see."

The unlined material of the gusset of her swimmers had gone completely transparent with its wetness. Standing proud in the valley of the camel toe I could readily make out her swollen bud. I lifted two fingers up and rolled it in a gentle circular motion. Tash tensed her thighs and moaned, indicating she liked it.

I let her enjoy that for a minute or two before I decided it was time to taste her; pulling the gusset aside and lifting my mouth up to bring my tongue to flick against her. Her juices flooded into my mouth, the smell and taste of her fecund, youthful, womanhood exciting my senses enough to leave me surging my erection and thrusting it pointlessly into the air behind her back.

"Oh god..." she moaned in a prolonged sigh, slowly starting to rock her hips.

I brought the fingers, which were already wet from playing with her clit, into her sex and rubbed them hard against the front wall, knowing just how deep to go to find her g spot.

"OOOHhhhhhhh.." she softly moaned some more, "That's so nice."

Until now, the Southerly cross swell had left us alone. But I suddenly felt the bow of the boat fall away, and the next moment an explosion of cool ocean water momentarily hid Tash's torso from me, followed immediately by a cascade of salty brine pouring off her body across my face and into my mouth.

Neither my mouth nor eyes were closed in time and I found myself spluttering out its contents as I waited for my vision to clear. My fingers were still in her, but I'd instinctively dropped my head away from the torrent of water.

As my vision cleared and I shook the water from my face I found my view of Tash had changed. Now wet, her swimmers had gone almost completely transparent; a fine gossamer covering of her body that stuck to it like a second skin. Her large nipples, hardened by cold and arousal, now jutted massively towards me from the end of her suspended breasts.

Even though it had already been a tease when dry, I been contemplating ripping her swimmers apart to improve my visual stimulation. Now I lost interest in doing that. The swimmers would survive for another day. If anything they'd become even more of a turn on than her naked body could ever be.

As I brought my face back to her swollen bud with its new salty taste, I found myself once again instinctively surging and thrusting my erection into the air behind her in my heightened arousal.

The wave had done nothing to slow Tash's progress to orgasm. Maybe the sudden spray of cold water had even accelerated it. She was moaning away and rocking in a way that almost let you feel what she felt. I could tell she was on the verge of a big one.

As she came, her thighs tensed and she sighed an enormous moan. I left her sensitive bud alone, but continued to play against her g spot to prolong her orgasm; reaching over my head with my spare hand to tweak her nipple.

Now it was my turn and I contemplated my options. It was such a waste not to stare at her erotically beautiful body as I thrust away at her. I studied her positioning to see if I could somehow bring my head up onto the pulpit seat under her breasts, arch myself up on my legs and penetrate her between her legs; but it just wasn't going to work - at least without doing a back injury. Doggy style would have to do.

But I wasn't to be denied one indulgence. I rested my head up on the pulpit seat and took delightfully into my mouth one of the enormous teats that projected down from the end of her suspended breasts. Even though I kept tickling up her clit with my fingers, this was entirely for my pleasure, not hers. I didn't even need to unwrap it from its transparent gossamer sheath. It was arousingly sexual as it was; both in appearance and texture.

I sucked that teat like I was trying to draw milk from it; rejoicing in the way it hardened further as I pressed its thick extension against the roof of my mouth and rubbed my tongue against it. Tash moaned; probably more from my stimulation of her clit than her nipple. But that didn't matter. Keeping her happy let me wallow in the eroticism of the mammary pleasure.

My cock was aching with a desire to be brought into this sexual game. Even though I knew Amy was watching and I'd look ridiculous, I just couldn't supress the need to gratify it with little air thrusts from time to time. As I brought my spare hand up to play with the other nipple I again evaluated whether I could somehow, in any way, take her from the front to let me continue to enjoy the sexual delights of her breasts.

I arched my back up and even managed to slip the tip of my cock into the tear at the back of her swimmers and across the opening to her sex. But that was the limit of my flexibility. If I even tried for more, I'd need traction for a month. But still, I was reluctant to surrender to that desire if it meant giving up my present indulgence.

It was Tash who forced the progression. She was clearly becoming quite excited again.

"In me, in me!" she exclaimed.

OK, it was time to finish this.

I wormed out from under her and stood behind her upthrust butt; initially steading myself with my hands on her hips. With one hand I bent my anxious erection down and slipped it into the rip in the back of her swimmers, using the tip of my erection to push her pulled aside gusset back into place to let it access her sex. Locating the opening to her sex, I guided it in.

She was as tight as she always was. Slippery, wet and clearly aroused, but requiring some pressure to achieve penetration. She was pushing hard back against me, making it obvious he was in a hurry and I shouldn't pussy foot about like I usually do when first entering her. In a single smooth movement, I pushed it all the way in; immersing my manhood fully into the strongly embracing warmth of her body.

As I wrapped one arm around her hips to tickle up her clit again and the other around her upper torso to slip the hand into the side of her swimwear and play with her nipple, she groaned again.

With my knees bent to align my entry with the angle of her sex, I enjoyed a couple of full length slow thrusts; letting my, until now, deprived shaft indulge itself in the full pleasure that her tightly embracing body had to offer. As always with Tash and her tight little sex, I couldn't be sure how long I'd last, but I wasn't finished in pleasuring her yet.

I straightened my legs a bit, leveraging the middle of my shaft against her pelvic floor muscle to press the tip firmly against the front wall of her vagina. I could feel her body react as she found all her most sensitive places being stimulated at once; g spot, clit and nipple. I kept my thrusts short and hard; spending as much of every thrust as I could hitting her g spot with the tip of my shaft. I needed her to cum quickly.

It wasn't just the tightness of her sex driving me to my own climax. I could feel the firmness with which the mid-length of my shaft was raking across the hardness of her pelvic floor muscle was driving me inexorably there too; but not as pleasurably as I'd get from going back to the well aligned, full length, completely immersed, fast thrusting penetration I'd done as I first entered her. I wanted time to finish her and then give myself a few good thrusts to finish with.

I knew I had her on the edge, but she wasn't as consistent in her manner of orgasm as Amy and Ellen were; instead being a lot harder to read. I was distracting myself, partly by almost praying for her to climax, partly by getting all phobic about the ugliness of the view that Amy must have as she steered the boat, as my hairy, white, old man, butt kept mooning her with every thrust.