Unexpected Threesome Ch. 31

It is difficult to plan an entirely satisfactory path through the Pacific from Tahiti to Australia; at least if you want to see everything worth seeing. You end up zig zagging all over the ocean.

To simply say you've visiting the Cook Islands really says nothing. It consists of a multitude of islands, spread over thousands of nautical miles of ocean. We chose three. The main one of Rarotonga from where we sailed north to one with a reputation for beauty called Aitutaka and thence further north to Pukapuka.

Unfortunately we could do little more than a sail past Aitutuka because the entrance to the reef only allows a draft of 1.7 metres, even at high tide; and we're nearly two metres. And at Pukapuka we could only land by going around to the western lee side of the island, dropping the anchor into our RIB and motoring it over to the reef; leaving the anchor nearly high and dry while the boat sat in hundreds of metres of water. That allowed us to take the RIB through a small channel long ago blasted through the reef to explore the three islands within the lagoon.

Liddy's boat - the Southern Belle - constantly came up on our AIS, and it was hard to hide from the girls that I was following our dance with it with some interest. But we never managed to share an anchorage with it during this part of the voyage.

[AIS -Automatic identification system - is a system where a boat puts out a signal which can be picked up on the chart plotter of other nearby boats. It is mainly for collision avoidance, but is also useful for keeping track of friendly boats in the same area.]

I would have liked to visit Nuie, but that was a major detour back South. Instead the logical path was to Samoa and then onto Tonga. That in turn led us to Fiji.

The ratio of time at sea to time at anchor was considerably skewed by all this travel. While the sailing is enjoyable, it did significantly complicate the sex life of the boat.

The initial trip to the Cook Islands had told me that I couldn't just keep Amy as my watch mate without causing issues. Ellen is a very flexible young lady and not one to make a fuss. But I could tell she was put out by Amy always getting to share my bed. In the end, I decided I needed to rotate the watch arrangements, even though I trusted Ellen the most as being the best second watch captain.

The difficulty is that in this part of the Pacific there are no shortage of mid-ocean reefs and the trade winds don't really have the reliability that they do in the North Pacific. Sailing is a lot more demanding and hazardous than in other parts of the world. The number of yachts you see high and dry on a reef is testament to that.

Ellen's attention to detail in navigation and just general lifelong experience on yachts was invaluable to me. But then Amy was no slouch in actually sailing the boat, so the reality was that on passages where we knew we'd not be near any known hazard, she was a perfectly adequate watch captain.

When she did get to share my watch, Ellen was initially no less wanting to sleep with me penetrated in her during the midnight to 4 am off-watch than Amy had been; although as we sailed further north and the spring progressed, repeating that for the morning off-watch became impossibly hot and sweaty.

Ellen's more prominent clit, with its ability to be stimulated against my shaft in that position meant she was more likely to orgasm and more frequently; especially if a sea was running, increasing the movement. But I found with her I was also more likely to have a wet dream; bringing the whole thing to an end for that watch. Why, I don't know.

Of course, when Ellen shared my watch, it was Amy's turn to demand a performance from me on the cushions laid out in front of the companionway hatch while it was Ellen that looked on.

All the while, Tash just got her less demanding needs met as they arose; although the variations on bondage and role playing that could be carried out on deck at sea meant she more often just had to ask for more conventional sex on the same cushions as the others.

By the time we got to Fiji a significant decision had to be made. Cyclone season was fast approaching. Either we had to accelerate the trip through and rapidly bring it to an end in Australia, or we had to find somewhere to wait out the season. It seemed nobody - not even Tash - wanted to make a race for home. Nor did anyone just want to lock up the boat somewhere safe and fly home for the summer; and here again I thought Tash might have wanted to.

Mind you there are problems with locking up the boat like that. In this part of the world, by the time you get back, the yacht is likely to have a thick covering of mould coating the inside and the diesel in the tanks is likely to have turned into something with the consistency of treacle. The diesel problem can be reduced by making sure the tanks are full - leaving no air gap for condensation and the bacteria which causes the problem to breed. The mould problem is harder. Cleaning well before you leave helps. But with no-one to empty any dehumidifier, the mere availability of shore power doesn't solve the problem. In any case, reliable power in this part of the world is a rarity.

I had planned ahead enough to book well in advance, first a mooring in the Vuda Marina on the Island of Vitii Levu for the shoulder cyclone season and then a dock in the cyclone pits they have there for the peak season. They are popular and overbooked enough that a surrendered booking can be reused, but a late one can rarely be obtained.

The mooring let us continue to explore the islands of Fiji while the weather was suitable, while giving us a bolt hole when not. And the pits gave us somewhere to really batten down the hatches when the worst storms were likely to come through.

A week after we arrived, Liddy's boat, the Southern Belle, also came into the marina. I couldn't disguise from the girls my pleasure in that. In a way they'd been monitoring the progress of Liddy's yacht as much as I had; just with a different perspective.

For the next couple of weeks they were gracious enough to let me include Liddy in many of our activities; even more so after Liddy's friends flew home for a couple of months leaving her on her own. It didn't escape me that Amy and Ellen would take turns making demands on me to the point of sexual exhaustion the night before Liddy was going to be joining us for something, nor that they chose the absolute extreme and beyond of their 'fuck me' bikinis and other clothing for any outing that included her.

But I well understood their concerns. If that was the limit of their resistance to her, I had no cause for complaint. All I could do was make sure my behaviour towards Liddy never strayed beyond the 'proper'.

Mind you, 'proper' could vary with the circumstances. Once we were on a beach, Tash had a habit of starting somewhat tactile games; like grabbing something and challenging you to get it off her. With the girls in flimsy bikinis, if the beach was private or remote enough, that could involve a significant loss of clothing. And once they lost theirs, you could be sure I wasn't going to be allowed to stay the only one with my modesty intact.

And to the girls credit, they included Liddy on these games as if she was an old friend. And she wasn't immune from either getting stripped or doing it

Liddy had been with us for a while when Ellen and Amy had gone into town and returned much later than expected; very animated. Ellen couldn't wait to tell me something.

"We met Liddy in town and had lunch with her."

I had to admit, that was interesting because their relationship with her is a bit love hate. She's gets on very well with the group and we have a lot of fun with her, but they are wary of her as a romantic threat; something all the assurances from me can't curtail.

"We've organised it."

"Organised what?"

"You and her to have a date; and if you want... well, you know afterwards."

"What? Would you like to slow down and tell me what this is all about?"

Ellen took a deep breath.

"Sorry. Let me start at the beginning. Amy and I aren't really sure we're ready to give you up when we get ashore, however much you say we should because it's in our interest to do so and you love us too much to deny us a better future.

But we also recognise that it's in your interest to cover your own future by keeping an eye out for someone more your own age. And we love you enough to recognise that and want your needs covered too. And you and Liddy have always got on like a house on fire; so it's quite possible she might be someone suitable.

So we put our cards on the table with her. We'd encourage you two to get together if she'd completely and absolutely guaranteed that, if something developed, she'd accept she was in a shared relationship. No squeezing or bitching us out. It would be a romantic foursome instead of a romantic threesome."

Amy piped in.

"Actually it was a bit more complex than that. We negotiated room for Tash and Issie too."

I could see why they couldn't ignore Tash. My heart had skipped a beat at the mention of Issie. I still had an enormous soft spot for her - to say the least. But I wasn't sure where Issie figured in this, since last I heard she was off chasing males to be the father of her children in Italy. Although not with much success. Still I let that little side ally pass me by.

I looked at them with wide eyed disbelief and asked, with a taken aback, rising inflection in my voice.

"And Liddy thought that was OK?"

"Yes actually. She said she could see our relationship with you was a lot more than just using you for sex and that had stopped her making any move on you. She was old enough to see that relationships come in many forms and that we had made ours with you work and she couldn't see why she couldn't do the same."

By now I was hanging there slack jawed. This was starting to sound like something out of a midday soap opera.

"And since we knew you wouldn't act on it if we left it to you, we've already arranged a date for Friday. Dinner at the club and afterwards you'll spend the night on her yacht... with the expectation that if all goes well you'll...let's say, be unfaithful to us. Of course, the actual conversation was much longer than that. We've just given you the gist of it."

Of course, this wasn't the first time the girls have effectively added to my sexual partners. In a way both Ellen and Tash got there the same way. But this was a bit different. To put it bluntly, the others came aboard with the message 'here's a new crew member who, by the way, expects you to screw her like to screw us.' But Liddy's was essentially different. More like 'we've organised you a date and a screw with a potential new life partner.' Sort of a blind date that wasn't all that blind.

And yet, I was trapped. I could hardly cancel the date. That certainly wasn't the message I wanted Liddy to get. And in a way, nor did I want to. I was just that it felt sort of...the only word I can think of is bizarre.

Friday came around all too quickly and I found myself turning up at the club at the appointed hour - essentials bag in my hand - to find Liddy waiting for me at the bar.

I have to admit, she was leg-crossingly gorgeous. More so for her 55 years. Medium height, slender, with an upright figure that was somehow curvaceous around the hip but still flat through her stomach and carried perky breasts that were on the C cup borderline, she was wearing a tiny little black mini sheath dress that clung tightly to her figure and was capped by small, string strap supported triangles that barely decently covered that part of her breasts that had to be covered.

After giving her a greeting kiss on the cheek, we were quickly shown to our table. As I followed her I couldn't help but stare at the long elegantly shaped legs that emerged from the daringly high hem of her dress. If women are meant to dress demurely on a first date, Liddy certainly hadn't read the message.

She half turned towards me as she walked.

"I suppose you think this is all a bit strange."

"That's an understatement. Don't you."

"Yes. But Ellen is very persuasive. Somehow it seemed quite normal by the time she'd finished with me. That's not to say I'm not a bit nervous."

"You're not alone in that."

We set the topic aside as we sat down and instead started with the sort of pleasantries one does on this sort of date...'how's your day been' and then a long discussion about our children because everyone likes talking about their children. That sort of stuff. But gradually the conversation turned to our histories and how we'd got ourselves to the point of being on a yacht of the middle of the Pacific. I knew the girls had already had this conversation with her and was aware of the sketchy details - as she probably was of mine. But it was better to hear it first-hand.

What I found out about Liddy was that she'd been brought up in a very conservative Jewish household with a doctor for a father. Pushed into medicine by her family, she'd meet and married her husband - another equally conservative Jewish boy - while they were both in their first year of medical studies.

She regarded it as a good, if unadventurous, marriage. As loving as you can reasonably expect a 30 year marriage to be.

Religiously, they'd certainly grown much less devout over time, even if they were still constrained by the conservative instincts indoctrinated into them as kids. Her husband was a bit nerdy, so it had actually been Liddy who had, for instance, nurtured her children's' sporting instincts; even down to doing football tackle practice with her sons.

His death in a car accident on the way to a medical conference at the age of fifty had shattered her. She was comfortable financially, but emotionally vulnerable.

Her parents and a local rabbi, both detecting an opportunity to redirect her back towards a more religious lifestyle, introduced her to a man a few years older than her. He was handsome and initially quite charming. But as soon as they married he became controlling and aggressive; increasingly forcing her to accept and follow the most conservative and oppressive tenants of her religion. When she started resisting that, and especially its imposition on her children, he turned violent.

Liddy didn't muck about. She stayed only long enough to record hard evidence of his violence, then divorced him and had him charged.

The experience had been cathartic. She'd not just completely abandoned the religion she felt (although she admits in retrospect, slightly unfairly) put her in the way of the harm the man inflicted on her, her rebellion against that found and released in herself a more outward going, adventurous and much less conservative woman.

A few years later, with her kids largely grown and independent (except for financially), some friends had suggested she come with them on this trip. They were more of the hippie style and she hadn't found it difficult to embrace their attitude to things like semi nakedness. Indeed, she'd come to realise she was reasonably attractive and proud of her appearance. Being able to really flaunt it, while still feeling in complete control, actually gave her a sense of power she'd never felt in her life before. Her wardrobe was now full of clothing of a type she couldn't have imagined the old Liddy owning and she never thought she could wear again the sort of clothing she'd spent the first 53 years of her life in.

She recounted amusingly how shocked, and then encouraging, her kids had been when they'd first seen photos of her on the trip.

I'd pretty well been drawn to Liddy since the first time she chatted me up in the bar in Tahiti. Yes, appearance was part of it. Like Amy and Ellen, she was very much my genotype perfect woman. But the magnetic attraction was way more than that. We'd just clicked; found ourselves on the same wavelength on so many things. She came across as kind, gentle and generous, while still being incredibly strong and self sufficient.

Sometimes a first date can undo all the good feelings that had proceeded it. Sometimes, when everything is magical, it does the opposite - reinforcing everything you previously thought good about the person to the point you find yourself falling down a deep, almost inescapable, well of emotional engagement with the person.

In that context, physical attraction can act as a drag or accelerant to the formation of the emotional bond.

As I sat across the table talking to her, Liddy's was accelerating mine at light speed.

Indirectly she'd already covered off why, at her age, she seemed to me to have the skin of a 30 year old. Her parents had originated in the middle east, giving her a natural olive complexation. But growing up, living and working in New York in a conservative Jewish family who encouraged her to concentrate on being an indoor, academic, swat and then being in a job that entailed long hours, meant she virtually never saw the sun until she'd cast off on this trip. Even when she had interacted at sport with her kids she had been, as she put it, "heavily clothed".

She had a long mane of dark honey blonde hair. The slight showing of grey roots made it clear it was dyed and her auburn eyebrows revealed it probably wasn't her original colour. But it suited her no less for that.

With large brown eyes a man could drown in - and I was - her face was soft and alluring.

But her dress and breast display left me constantly fighting a losing battle to keep my focus on her face. Any moment I thought she might blurt out...'Hey, I'm up here.'

Those small, barely supported, triangles trying to cover her breasts left a deep cleavage display. Not just cleavage, but the top and sides of her breasts were amply on display too. And as the night progressed, her nipples gradually started to push out the stretch gossamer material that covered them. The room was warm enough that it shouldn't have been the cold doing it. The thought she might be displaying a state of arousal that matched mine drove me to absolute distraction.

Yes, it was obvious that breasts that size on a woman her age couldn't be that perky if they were natural. Any reservations I might have had about the girls being bitchy about the issue when they first met her had to be put aside. They had been right. I got a glimpse of it all in the beach games; enough to certainly raise doubts. Now there could be none. There couldn't be any bra under that dress; and I'd certainly studied it closely enough to be left in no doubt. They, to use modern parlance, had to have been augmented. But that made them no less distracting.

Throughout the dinner, there was a half mongrel in my pants that just wasn't going to go away. The thought that it was preordained that I'd be spending the night with this beautiful woman drove me to distraction even as the nervous butterflies in my stomach grew more active as the night came closer to its climax.

By the time we finished dinner and left to go back to her yacht, I felt as nervous and inadequate as a 16 year old on a first date.

As we boarded the yacht, Liddy asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee. The question took me way back to my dating years, where I never was sure whether the invitation to come in for a nightcap was truly an invitation for a drink or something else. In those days I thought it safer to think of it as a drink and sat around awkwardly wondering if I should make a move on the girl.

In my shyness, I usually didn't and I've always wondered how many erotic adventures, and maybe even interesting relationships, I missed out on by leaving the young lady disappointed.

"A tea would be nice if you have that."

I stood just outside the galley continuing to chat with her and admire her beauty as Liddy boiled the kettle and made a coffee for her and a tea for me. I could see Liddy was as nervous as I was about the question of where we go from here. In a way there was no doubt that we'd basically been set up to have sex in this whole arrangement. My girls clearly had that in mind in what had been planned, no less than we did in agreeing to it. I was going to be sleeping in her bed that night and everyone's understanding was that sleeping wasn't really the purpose of the night.