Unexpected Threesome Ch. 41

"I had another climatic seizure."

"You know Ellen's going to be a jealous as hell."

"What am I going to be jealous about?"

Ellen appeared. Dressed only in a small bikini bottom, her breasts hung delightfully bare. Amy answered her.

"Tash had another seizure as she came."

"Yea, I heard. It nearly made me jump through the roof." Ellen looked me in the eye with a cheeky grin..."and I'm waiting Ned. I'm still waiting."

I gave her a faux knowing look in reply..."Maybe you're not a seizure type of person."

"You can play me like an accordion in every other sexual outcome. I think you should still be able to pull a seizure or two out occasionally."

Eventually Liddy also emerged, moving past the rest of us already sitting around the cockpit to take a vacant spot towards the stern. As she turned to me to say something, she suddenly stopped with a frozen stare, looked across to Tash and blurted out...

"Oh my god, you have matching hickies."

I looked at Tash and sure enough she had a welt on her neck from where I'd been sucking it. I just hadn't really focused on it. If hers was that prominent, I hated to think what mine was like given the punishment my neck had taken from her. Ellen and Amy of course had to have a look; Amy sticking her tits in my face as she bent around me to examine it.

Ellen of course had to be the one to really lay it on...

"Aren't you a bit old for a hicky Ned? I mean really, shouldn't you have left that behind in your teenage years. We're the ones who are going to have to be seen with you today. What are people going to think?"

Liddy chipped in...

"They're going to think I did it aren't they."

Tash blushed...

"Sorry guys, I got a bit carried away."

Ellen straddled my lap; spreading her legs wide, she pushed the gusset of her bikini pants all the way up my thighs until her crotch sat touching the tip of my flaccid manhood where it stood pushing out my swimwear. Instinctively I wrapped my hands around her lower waist.

Ellen curved her body down to suck the other - left - side of my neck; pushing my head back while supporting it with a hand around the back of my neck and rested her naked breast on my left bicep...

"Maybe he needs a matching one to make it look OK."

As the others giggled, she sucked it. Firmly; but in no way comparable with the punishment Tash had melted out to it. But I didn't really have time to think about my neck. The effect of Ellen pushing her crotch against my manhood was predictable as it quickly hardened; pushing firmly into her crease, but with nowhere else to go, initially bending and folding as it reached the limits of the space Ellen's body permitted it.

She started very subtly rocking her hips back and forwards, eventually manoeuvring the tip so that it was freed enough to straighten out under her crotch; a full, hard, horizontal erection along which I could feel her rocking her clit. There was also enough movement of her nipple against my bicep to raise it to a hard button. Whether the movement was obvious enough for the others to notice I wasn't sure; but the effect on my manhood certainly would be.

She released my neck and came up for air; still rubbing her clit as she purported to examine her handiwork...

"Nothing! That skins as tough as leather and getting a bit bristly now too. I'm not sure what Tash did to him to give him the one on the other side. Oh well; it was worth a try."

Ellen backed off me, returning to the seat on the other side and leaving the sheathed hardened rod of my erection fully exposed. As I watched her retreat, she poignantly looked down at it and then gave me a looked that almost expressed satisfaction in causing it. There was no way the others wouldn't react to it in some way; and predictably, it was Amy who made the most obvious move. Wrapping her hand around it, she commented, more to amuse the others than as something directed at me...

"Ah Ned, Issie was right. Our fuck me bikinis do work a treat don't they. It's just so easy to get a hard on out of you, isn't it."

It was a rhetorical question, which apart from recognising it with a round of giggles and Tash leaning in and wobbling her breasts from side to side, we quickly moved on from.

After taking our time over breakfast and cleaning up, we started to sort out the details of the day ahead.

Lunch was to be at the Beach Café; another trendy, upmarket establishment, this one over-looking the bay, but with a more casual atmosphere than the Byron at Byron we'd been to last night. Before that, a swim and after that, saying goodbye to Tash as she caught the bus to the airport.

The logistics of getting ashore were a bit more complex than last night. The lifeguards were likely to get a bit toey if we tried to take the RIB onto the beach through the daytime crowds - even if we did that up at the Pass, where the commercial tourist boats launch.

So it was going to be another swim ashore, with surfboards and waterproof bags for the gear; including our lunch clothing. Tash would be travelling light - so her aeroplane bag could be included in the waterproof stuff. On a yacht you travel light at the best of times and what wouldn't fit in her carry on backpack could be left on the yacht and come back to Sydney with us.

So it was that about 10.30 the five of us chucked in the two surfboards - one with a waterproof bag strapped to it - and dove in after them to swim ashore; the four girls in variations of their fuck me bikinis and me in speedos - naturally.

It wasn't a short swim. We had to anchor well outside the breaker line at low tide. All of us were strong swimmers, so that wasn't really an issue; although for me, there was always a bit of a concern about sharks this far out. The girls took turns paddling the board without a bag tied to it, while I navigated the board with the bag; alternating between pushing it forward and swimming after it and just holding onto the back with extended arms and kicking it forward.

Foregoing her turn on the board, Ellen made a point of swimming alongside me; often breast stroking to match my pace as I dealt with the board. About half of the way to the breaking point of the waves, she picked a moment when I was kicking the board along with extended arms to duck dive and use a lifetime of mucking about in water to gracefully come up under me, face up, in the space delineated by the back of the board, my spread apart arms and my head. As she rested her elbows on my arms to support herself, I found myself intimately face to face with her, her body extended down along mine, her feet kicking outside my thighs so that I wasn't the only one propelling both our bodies and the board through the water.

Ellen had been in a strange mood since we'd made landfall yesterday. She had openly admitted our approach to home was causing her to be unnerved by what she called the dissolving of the bubble existence we'd lived on the yacht. She knew it would force her to eventually choose between continuing our relationship and taking what I thought was the more prudent approach of finding a more age appropriate long term partner. But for the moment, this was reflected in certain aspects of her sexualised behaviour.

Normally it would be Amy who'd be most likely to come onto me in the water; and Issie when she was aboard. But now I had the front of her body pushed up hard against mine. And, like occurred over breakfast, there was not the slightest doubt as she'd wiggled her thighs and lower body against me that she'd set out to induce the erection that had resulted; an erection that in this case she then intentionally brought her crotch against the tip of, so I was effectively pushing her through the water with it.

She transferred her arms from resting on my elbows to around my neck as every thrust of my legs drove the tip of my manhood into her crease and every kick of hers wiggled it about in there; all while she made light of it...

"I hope you don't mind if I get a ride with you?"

"Do you mean a ride with me or from me?"

With a voice of feigned innocence, she replied...

"Why Ned, you'll make be blush. Whatever could you be talking about. Anyhow, you know my views on the incompressibility of water." [Which simply reflected Ellen's views on the medical risks of, shall we say, enthuastic penetrative sex in water.]

"You don't have to compress any water for the ride you're getting."

Ellen grinned at me.

"Arr Ned, you see right through me don't you."

"I'm trying to come up with some pun based around 'feeling right through' given the wood I've got pushed up against you, but I can't make it work."

"No you can't can you. Let's face it, when it comes to verbal sparring, you're not really in my league. But that's OK, I love you anyway."

It was nice to see that, whatever was bothering Ellen, it hadn't diminished her playful cheekiness.

"Anyway Ned, you're right. I turned myself on a bit when I fooled around with you over breakfast.

It left me a bit randy.

And now I've got that big swollen clit of mine positioned right on the tip of your cock.

That should be a nice mental picture for your head.

Just think, your engorged bell is weeping pre-cum as it plays against my enlarged clit; its hood drawn back.

I can feel it flicking rather delightfully against your bell as we speak and all separated by just two layers of the finest, thinnest material.

Every time you kick I get a lovely jolt of pleasure.

Is that doing your head in?

My heavy breathing isn't...just from the swimming you know.

That swollen clit is throbbing Ned... really throbbing.

I'm determined to cum before we get to the beach...but even that won't do anything to cure...the ache I have in a vagina that's just gapping open and wanting your shaft to fill it.

Pity there's no where we can do that till we get back to the boat this afternoon.

All of which means you're going to have to get out of the water...showing a giant boner in your wet clingy pants."

Ellen's little sex talk wasn't rapid fire. It was slow, measured and delivered with a coy face and a tone that was as sultry as hell, as if talking me though her movements; especially as her words encouraged her to jerk and dance her crotch more forcefully against me. And she was right. The mental picture was doing my head in. Her clit is well above average in its prominence and there's been times I've been quite content drawing her up onto my haunches as I knelt between her legs and watch the action as I've brought her to a climax by doing nothing more than bending my erection down to flick the tip of it against that swollen nub of hers.

Of course when we do that on a bed, her climax is usually followed by me throwing her back down on the bed and going the animal on her (to use an expression coined by Ellen). There was no way that was happening here. Ellen was effectively transferring her frustrated randiness to me in all of this.

Ellen brought her lips against mine and thrust her tongue into my mouth while rapidly micro rocking her crotch against the point where my manhood speared firmly into her crease. Since I was the one completely responsible from keeping us both afloat and safe from drowning, there was little I could do while she used my body to pleasure herself against except keep on kicking towards shore like I had been all along; although, now as I kicked, I threw my hips forward a bit in a sort of thrusting movement.

Ellen hadn't been kidding about her state of arousal. I could soon feel her legs quivering; a sure sign for her of an impending climax.

Her thighs tensed and she hummed into my mouth as she came, then circled her crotch against the tip as she prolonged her orgasm. After relaxing her head back; leaving it floating with the water lapping nearly over her face, she looked up and around to see how far we were from shore. We were very close to the breaker line. Already the rise and fall of the swell had become more pronounced as the waves entered shallower water.

Then she reached one hand down and circled my sheathed shaft starting to jerk it.

"Do you want me to deflate this thing or are you going to come out of the water with a boner?"

I grinned at her.

"After what it's been through in the last 24 hours, I don't think it's going to deflate under a hand job any time soon. I might just let you take the board ashore and do a quick lap of the beach."

"So, embarrassed to show a boner are you?"

"Yes, I'm not a teenager any more. I'm supposed to be able to keep it in my pants by now."

"Well then, you'd better stop playing with girls half your age, hadn't you?"

I raised my eyebrows...

"Is that what you really want?"

Ellen smiled and give me a kiss on the cheek.

"Alright, I'll take the board ashore. Don't perve at all those cute bikini butts in the water as you swim past face down though, or you'll never get ashore."

25 metres of swimming up and back was enough to bring my manhood back to a reasonably flaccid state; letting me join the others on the beach.

Coming ashore in the little protected corner of the beach where it turns from running South to running out to the East, we didn't even bother drying ourselves before getting some small change to go up the short path through the coastal scrub to the outdoor counter of the Beach Café itself for a morning fix of Cappuccinos, chocolate and ice cream - all the things you can't get on a yacht travelling through the tropics.

Bikinis and swimwear generally was nothing unusual at the outdoor counter of the café. Even my wearing of my speedos there only just met Ellen's rather brutal 50/50 rule for the wearing of them; not more than 50 metres from the beach and only allowed to be worn by an old duffer over 50. Mind you, my experience is, with the passing of years, they're becoming less commonly seen and the acceptable distance from the beach grows seemingly shorter.

Conversely, as common as bikinis still were, very clingy, dripping wet bikinis as small as the ones the girls were wearing and each with their nipples on high beam were, let's just say, somewhat rarer. Once again, I found myself at the centre of an attractive group of mostly tall women attracting the gaze of every male within viewing distance; with several trying their luck at hitting on them.

As before I was assuming our tight little cluster was being mistaken for a family; Liddy and me as parents with Amy, Ellen and Tash as the daughters. A few suitors took the family friendly approach of sidling up to their chosen girl while she was well within the group and engaging them in seemingly innocent conversation in the off chance it might lead somewhere. But more often, you could see the young studs circling the pack, trying to isolate out their chosen prey, and from what the girls told me later, they weren't lacking in directness when it came to making their intentions clear. Probably a function of the density of the backpacker influence in the area who, I'm led to believe, treat a place like Byron as one big fuck fest.

But the family thing didn't stop even Liddy being hit on; or at least chatted up by a male a good decade younger than her, while the rest of us were swimming after the café trip.

Each of the girls has a different reaction to the approaches.

Amy bathes in the male attention, but expects it to come without her having to seek it other than by them being turned on by her fuck me clothing; and always from the point of view of her being in the safety of the herd. Given her past, she likes the ego boost she gets from the fact guys find her attractive and even the fact they want to have sex with her. After all, in a way, that's how this whole group sex thing on the boat got started. But she makes sure she basks in that affirmation without the slightest risk of that having any adverse outcomes for her. If a suiter is over-persistent, she simply retreats to the safety of the inner circle of her protective 'family'; no need to argue with them or even be any more impolite than simply ignoring them.

Ellen is more gregarious. She likes to engage people and enjoys a good banter and is body confident; but where males are concerned that makes her an outrageous flirt and prick teaser, even if she's not always entirely aware that's what she's doing. But in the end, even if she might judge a guy 'cute', she has not the slightest intention of a follow up, which does make the possibility of a misunderstanding more likely.

If they become over persistent, she tries to cast them off nicely, but if they turn nasty, she can stand her ground and give as good as she gets. I heard her deal with some guy with an Irish accent with the final words..."Mate, just piss off." She explained later, he came on with nothing more subtle than a 'how about a fuck' and simply wouldn't take no for an answer, becoming increasingly hostile as she tried to bat him away.

Unlike the other two, Tash is open to the potential of more than a superficial engagement with another male - if you get my drift - but because of that is much more fussy who she engages with. Let's face it, when you're as voluptuous and under dressed as Tash, you're likely to attract a certain type of male and that's not always the style she's looking for.

So whereas Ellen and Amy have somewhat prolonged engagements with others, Tash's tend to be short. To put it brutally, the guys is sized up and - more often than not - discarded, before he's much passed his opening line. And flying out this afternoon as she was, her criteria for engagement on that morning seemed to be fairly narrowly defined.

Some time in the water working up an appetite followed our morning snacks; a mixture of board riding and body surfing, as our only two boards were shared around. Liddy, on the other hand, spent most of the time on the beach; only going in for an occasional cooling dip before coming back up to sun herself again.

Around midday we all collected on the beach; giving us some time in the sun for our swimwear to dry before they were covered with the clothes we'd be wearing to lunch. Because, as nice as the food and as beautiful as the setting is, the Beach Café is very much in that 'throw something over your swimmers' style.

Of course, since she was flying home afterwards, Tash went and changed properly into dry clothes; emerging in a pair of leggy shorts and a tight fitting t shirt. Maybe it was lucky Australian airlines generally don't get as puritanical as some overseas ones. The rest of us just threw on our overclothes on the beach.

Liddy wore a more causal version of her usual mini sheath dress with spaghetti stringed shoulder straps and no shortage of cleavage; even more prominently displayed when she slipped her bikini top from underneath.

Ellen's outfit was the same as the one she'd worn to lunch on Bora Bora. It was a very pale blue, loose fitting, crop top with a deeply curved sweetheart neckline matched with her 'A line' micro mini skirt. With her bikini top also slipped off, the top exposed the bare flesh of both the top and bottom of her breasts; the top down the front of the neckline and the bottom as an underboob under the bottom edge of the very high cropped garment.

It sort of gave the impression her breasts could fall out either the top or the bottom at any moment. Had she had anything larger than the tidy perky b cup breasts she had, you would have half expected her nipples to sag under the lower hem. As it was, the way her breasts bounced inside the top was quite provocative.

But what really made the top such a tease was the fact that its loose fit and cut away profile told you that merely standing in the right place was likely to offer a down blouse view of her naked breasts; something male waiters or the males who tried to chat her up never seemed to fail to notice.