Unexpected Threesome Ch. 37

After a short while, I also took the opportunity of the reduced pressure to pull my face away from her breast, pull the now soaked top aside and take the bare nipple back into my mouth; a much more satisfying mouth feel for me.

I tried to relax. There was no indication Amy was heading for an orgasm; no moans, no screaming, none of the delightful fuss she makes about good sex. This was going to be a long night. She was still shaking and any noises she was making came across more as whimpering than the sounds of pleasure. But clearly she wanted me to do what I was doing. She had my head held to her breast and her body was certainly positively reacting to it; at least in so far as it offered me a large firm teat on which to suck.

As I played the nipple against the top of my mouth I sort of imagined myself as a baby again; pretending I was being sucked off to sleep. It was actually remarkably soothing. I certainly felt less stress about the storm as I did it; even thought that I might be able to drift off to sleep -- although that never actually happened.

Every now and then Amy would reach down to check out my cock; or brush her knee across it to do the same. She was clearly looking for another erection. With that sort of attention, it wasn't that long in coming. The fourth time she reached down, Amy felt out my balls in their swimwear sheath and found half an erection above it. Putting her hands down my pants, she wrapped her hand around it and played with it; quickly eliciting the other half in all its now refreshed hardness.

There was no subtlety about what followed. She pulled my erection out of their pants, cast aside the crotch of her bikini bottoms and pushed me in; allowing me to release her nipple and realign our face to face contact again.

I looked at her. She was still shaking. But I could sense the way she was deliberately taking deep breaths and the tears had gone, as had the worst of the heaving. She feigned a weak smile at me and closed her eyes, pulling me in so that we were cheek to cheek and I couldn't observe her as intensely.

Outside, in the dark, the storm continued to rage. We were simply helpless on-lookers to whatever fate it determined for us; although deep in my heart I had no cause to be concerned about our personal safety. That of the boat was another matter, but I'd long resigned myself to simply dealing with that.

Without the bikini pants sharing my shaft's space in her vagina, for quite a while, I found it a bit easier to maintain my erection without excess fear of cumming. Her shaking was still quite provocative, but at the end of a day of excessive sex and a sleepless night, not more than I could take.

But these things are cumulative and her shaking was unrelenting. After an hour and a half, that first sense of my cock warming up came back and with it came the need for the delaying tactics. This time the final release came just as the first streaks of a dirty dawn were starting to break the pitch dark of the night. Something hit the side of the boat with a loud thump. Amy nearly jumped out of her skin; involuntarily tightening her vagina as she bounced up and down on my shaft.

That was all it took. I fought it for a few moments before surrendering to the inevitable; again holding her tighter and burying my shaft deeply as I suppressed the thrusting and groaning that I'd normally carry on with.

And again Amy pushed me down onto her breast until she felt my recovery.

As the dawn lightened to as much as it was likely to manage in the conditions, Liddy and Ellen decided to get up; leaving me laying, once again penetrated into Amy.

As the dawn moved on, while the storm continued unabated, Amy's shaking diminished. Maybe it was the thought that being able to see the reality would let you overcome what the mind imposed on you, but half an hour after the others had left us, Amy lifted her lips to my ear...

"I think I'm OK to get up and have breakfast now."

"That's great."

As I pulled back to withdraw, she clamped her hand on my bum and lent in again...

"Wouldn't you like to finish first?"

I stroked her hair, amazed she'd could even consider what she thought might be my needs in the present circumstances...

"No, that wouldn't even feel right. I'm only worried about you."

She lightly kissed my check...

"Maybe, but I'm worried about you."

As my hips pulled back to complete my withdrawal, I replied...

"Well then, you've got nothing to worry about."

We joined the others in the main cabin; staring out the window at the fury of the storm as ate a light breakfast. Visibility was very much limited by the driving rain and spray from the lagoon; but we could see enough to be glad that Liddy wasn't on her yacht. It looked decidedly dodgy with the masts of the yachts there scribing arcs through the air as they rocked about.

There was clearly a tidal surge, but it didn't look to bad.

The day continued more or less as it had started; with there being little to do but sit around and eat and stare out the window. Conversation was limited by the noise of the storm and it was a constant distraction from any other activities we tried; playing cards and reading among them.

I kept an eye on Amy, but she settled down even more as the day progressed.

By that evening the wind had at last started to abate. It was still decidedly unpleasant outside, but within the cabin life was starting to revert to normal. Conversations could be carried on, and even a brief raising of a head to the outside out of a quickly opened hatch, might be contemplated.

As Ellen was preparing our dinner, Amy managed to catch me alone in the master cabin.

"I'm sorry about my performance last night."

"There's no need to be sorry. But I hated to see you like that. Are you vulnerable to panic attacks?"

"I didn't think I was any more, but the violence of the storm triggered some old fears. Over the last few years of our relationship, when I sensed that Frank was building up to a violent episode, I'd be overcome like that. I just haven't had that feeling of impending violence since I left him, so nothing had triggered one. But the storm brought it all back."

I put my arm around her...

"Oh Amy, I'm really sorry to hear what you suffered through. I mean, there's nothing surprising to hear that a person has a bit of a melt-down when they know they're about to be bashed and that storm last night certainly invoked a feeling of impending violence. I can see how it might trigger it. Did Frank take pity on you when he saw you like that?"

"I don't think empathy was in Frank's repertoire, at least where I was concerned. But it did often divert him from bashing me. Seeing me curled up and whimpering on a bed like that seemed to turn him on. He'd rape me instead, which in some ways was a lot better an outcome for me. His bashings could be pretty brutal. I sort of knew how to get through the rapes without too much injury -- emotional or physical."

I shuddered to hear that news of what Amy had been through. My heart broke for her. Instinctively I hugged her more tightly.

"Oh Amy. I'm surprised you ever were able to trust a man again."

"You already know Ned that sex with Frank was never very nice. The first time he actually raped me, it took me by surprise. I was curled up in a foetal position suffering this panic attack, thinking I was going to die of it, even if I survived Frank's bashing and instead he suddenly undressed and started violently ripping off my clothes. Once he got me naked, he forcibly straightened me out, pinned me down and did it.

That first time, I stupidly resisted to the best of my ability to do so, which only meant I got hurt more. But I also came to realise that fighting my resistance in a way drained his anger and satisfied it with what he thought was a humiliating rape.

And at least the actual sex didn't hurt too much. He was selfish enough to want to enjoy the sex, so he didn't really want me too dry and while he was rough and uncaring, once his cock was doing the thinking for him, it was basically just giving me a good pounding he was after. I could survive that. After all, he was my partner, and by then I'd seen plenty of bad sex from him and was long past the point of thinking of this as some sort of higher level of betrayal by him. I think stranger rape might have been different. But from Frank I was beyond being mentally damaged by being raped by him. I could easily compartmentalise the indignity of it.

By gripping him just right I could bring it all to a quick conclusion. And it sort of satisfied him to leave me naked, whimpering and fucked when he'd finished, particularly as he'd enjoy calling me a pathetic, weak, looser, whore or something like that as he got dressed again and threw my clothes back at me.

When he turned violent, the panic attacks were real. And given the history that caused them in the first place, well justified. But, after that first time, I was thinking clearly enough to feign enough resistance to his rapes to satisfy his need to think he was actually raping and humiliating me, while basically looking after myself and trying to minimise the hurt. I had to draw a fine line of fighting back, but not so much as to take his violence to a higher level.

So I'd resist him stripping me, but as he did, I'd align my body so the clothing came off without badly bruising me like it did the first time. And even as I was seemingly trying to resist him straightening me out and jumping on me, I was sort of trying to prepare my body for what I knew was coming."

"How do you do that?"

"What? Prepare my body for rape? You know, I'd read somewhere that the female body knows to lubricate itself, even when being forcefully penetrated. It's sort of preadjusted to the possibility of rape to minimise the damage. And that reinforced my previous experience of just bad sex with Frank that there's a difference to being what I'd now think of as aroused and merely accepting.

Before he'd strip me, he'd rip his own clothes off; playing the role of the big tough man and I suspect thinking he was threatening me with the rampant erection he'd be displaying. I'd just focus on the erection, sort of telling my body it was about to cop a pounding and to get itself ready and I found that worked well enough to save me from any real injury or damage."

"I'm surprised after all that by the fact you seemed to want me penetrating you through the storm. Actually, I'm surprised you ever wanted sex with a man again."

"I knew I had to find a way of dealing with the panic attacks. They were almost more scary than Frank. There was no way Frank would let me get professional help. It was clear he liked the effect he knew he could have on me. So I looked for help on-line to see if I could find a way to control them. When there's a well justified fear of being bashed, it's not as though I could talk myself out of it. But one thing I read would help deal with it was to focus on a single object. And what I found worked best, especially when his big sweaty body was on top of me blocking my view of anything else, was focusing on Frank's erection.

As he stood over me stripping me, it was a signal I was going to be raped, not bashed. It helped me get my body ready for what was to come and even as it was in me, by focusing completely on it I found some reassurance things probably weren't going to get any worse than they were at that moment; and I was usually able to deal with the rape itself. And as for the name calling, it was water off a duck's back. By then I'd worked him out. He wasn't going to crush me with words; especially ones as hypocritical as those.

So focusing on his erection and deep heavy breathing gave me some modicum of a sense of control.

Don't think I'm in any way comparing you to him, but having your erection in me gave me that something to focus on. I know the storm is different to diverting Frank's violence, but the technique was such a well-practiced one, it worked anyway. It didn't stop the panic attack, but it helped enough to let me get through it.

And as for the question of ever wanting sex again, I've actually always had a somewhat Jane Austin idea of relationships. No, actually, that's not a good description because sex -- actually good sex - was always part of my ideal relationship. I was always a romanticist and Frank never managed to kill that or my inherent sex drive, even if he never came even close to satisfying it. I just had to confine it to my fantasies and they involved some pretty wild sexual ones.

You probably think that screaming I do during sex is put on. It isn't, it's the real me; well, more or less the real me. In the first thirty years of my life I didn't know what real sex could be like. All I knew was the rape and abusive sex Frank handed out to me. So when you showed me good sex, I wasn't going to let any inhibitions or reservations hold me back from vocally expressing my enjoyment of it. Actually..."

Amy paused. I couldn't see her face because her head was over my shoulder. But something told me to let her finish her sentence, however much I wanted to blurt out a stream of sympathy.

"You know Ned, I'm not completely oblivious to the human subconscious. If I'm really honest, there might just be a small element of 'up yours Frank, I'll show you what you're missing' in my displays too; even if Frank isn't there to see it..."

She paused again. This time she pulled her head out from over my shoulder and looked me in the face; almost staring into my eyes.

"You know Ned, at first I thought if I could just be a better partner for Frank then he'd give me more of the relationship I wanted. That it was all my fault. After a few years I realised that wasn't going to happen and it was him, not me, but it never stopped me wanting more. Eventually I realised I needed out, but had to find a way of doing it without ending up dead.

Frank has made me wary of men and relationships, but I don't and never did believe Frank is in any way typical of men.

I knew that if I let him undermine my desire for a good relationship and my confidence in myself, that would let him win even after I'd left him. I wasn't going to let that happen. He might have left me inexperienced as to what a good relationship and good sex was and with some really bad dressing habits, but you helped me come through that.

My desire was always to find a better man, even If I was very cautious about my ability to identify one. But you've helped me there too."

Listening to more details of Amy's past nearly brought me to tears. As I looked back into her eyes, I could see both a depth of hurt, but also a depth of wisdom. The wisdom of someone who has been through something terrible and come through the other side. I knew Frank had been bad, but the sheer horror of this new revelation of what he'd put her through shook me to the core.

I was horrified by the thought that, had it not been for the storm and the panic attack it brought on, I might never have known about this part of Amy's background. I couldn't help but wonder what else she was sheltering us from.

You can't hear this sort of stuff from someone you love and not be moved by it. I've always admired her strength in the way she came out of that relationship, but never more than this moment. Most women would need a life time of therapy to get over what she went through, but she seemed able to just rationalise her way through it.

Whether you could really say she wasn't damaged by Frank might be another question, but she'd certainly come out of it better than you'd expect.

"God Amy, you are such an incredible woman. I'm left dumbstruck by your strength and foresight..."

I hesitated, not sure whether in the light of what I'd just heard, I had the slightest right to ask the next question. Even less so when I suspected I knew the answer and it seemed trivial in the context of things.

"Just out of curiosity, why did you have me suck your breasts when I went limp?"

"I needed that something to focus on. It was a quick improvisation in the dark and in a moment of desperation. It wasn't as good as your cock, but it helped just the same. But you can see why I wanted your cock back as soon as I could get it."

I just held her tight for a while as she cuddled into me. I think I was more moved by this discovery of additional details of her past than she was having to dredge it up. I was having trouble in not heaving with emotion myself, whereas, she seemed calm and collected.

"Ned."

"Yes."

"I think it's important you know that I never want to have children. I don't have any maternal instinct in me and it's not going to change as I get older, or as you suggest, if I meet the right man. It's a far deeper conclusion than that. I've seen some awful shit and I'm not sure I really like the way the world is headed. I just don't want to bring a child into existence."

"Why do you need me to know that?"

"Because you being too old for more children is the main reason you offer up as to why we all need to go out and find other lovers when we get back. I don't want you just assuming that's the way it will work. I'm pretty sure I never want another lover. I just want you for however long you last. You saved me and gave me a whole new life. You were and are my saviour. I like what you've offered. In fact I love it and I love you. The thought of making another draw from the lottery barrel of men, just because you're a bit older than me, doesn't have any attraction to me. I love you and want to keep loving you."

Oh god. How does one respond to that? More so in the light of what we'd just been through. Amy's push back on what I thought was in their long term interests was becoming firmer. It's not that I savoured the thought of giving them up -- the opposite was true, I dreaded it. But the very fact I loved them made it necessary for me to have them address their future.

It wasn't something I wanted to argue with her about. The future would play out how however it did. But there was one thing I couldn't let pass without comment...

"Amy, I know I've said this before. But, whatever contribution you think I made, it's important for you to recognise you saved yourself. You preserved your own sanity through those horrible years and came out of it with a positive view of life. And I'm even more impressed by your achievements in the light of what you've just told me.

You organised your own escape. You are one strong, cleaver and resourceful woman. What little I did pales into insignificance in comparison. I just happened to be the right person in the right place to help you with the next step; but that's all. However much my ego might glow with your words and I value your feelings towards me, I just can't let you undervalue yourself."

"We'll have to agree to differ on that Ned. You found a girl who was still lost and turned her onto a woman confident in the world. That's pretty important to me. Had I fallen in with the wrong person, things could have still turned out badly."

The night that followed was benign, relative to the previous one anyway. The cyclone moved off back over the ocean. It was still very windy and wet, but not enough to stop you falling into an almost death like sleep to compensate for the sleepless one that proceeded it.

The following dawn gave us the first opportunity to survey the damage.

Our yacht came off lightly. A bent stanchion from where it had been hit by a flying palm frond was the only damage we could find. And that was easily fixed.

Liddy's yacht wasn't too bad. Some damaged rigging and a large ding where it had been hit by another boat that had come adrift and struck it a passing blow on its way to the rocks seemed to be the worst of it. It was also lucky we had doubled up the mooring lines as several had been frayed through and parted with the violent movements induced by the storm. We prepared a list for the owners so that they could bring with them whatever they needed when they returned from the States.