Unexpected Threesome Ch. 42

I quickly brewed up into an intense orgasm that left me groaning face down into the bunk, even as Issie continued to grind her hips against me.

She sort of waited until she thought my climax was finished before whispering in my ear...

"Can you give me one of those seizure orgasms?"

As I rolled us both onto our sides with me still penetrated into her, I answered...

"All I can do is finger you in the way that sometimes produces them."

Issie rolled onto her back, letting my still firm manhood slip from her body. I had to be amused as, once again, she laid there like a princess waiting to be serviced by her servant.

I rolled half over her, sucking her nipple as I slipped two fingers into her now very wet and sticky sex and my thumb against her clearly swollen clit.

Encouraged by the fact Issie was already well warmed up - which seems to help a lot - I went through the routine that produces them; conventional rubbing of her clit and g spot until I think she's close to cumming, then a sudden very fast flutter of my thumb against the very tip of her clit.

She got an orgasm out of it, a big one and a good one, if the noise she made and the way she arched her back up and lifted her hips was any guide. A long one too. But it wasn't a seizure.

For that moment, it didn't seem to matter. With a flood of oxytocin in her system, she turned on her side and wrapped me in a vice like full body hug; rocking gently.

"Oh that was nice Ned. You don't know how often I've dreamed of fucking you on this bunk again. We've got to do it more often. That dream is what's kept me going for the last year. We're going to have to find a nice private beach somewhere soon too. There's a few other dreams I want to relive."

Which pretty much gave me a heads up on what I was likely to be spending my days doing over the next couple of weeks until Issie started work.

Our lives quickly settled down to the routines that lives lived in one place tend to do.

For Liddy and Amy that clearly was approaching one of domesticity. I don't mean by that they spent the day cleaning. It's just for them, they seemed to settle into what they saw as a long term pattern of routines.

Amy, after being denied even the ability to make friends by the abusive partner she lived with for ten years, made a point of befriending the neighbours; something you actually need to make an effort to do when you live on an acreage. I knew most of them well from having lived and raised my children through their teenage years there for a good decade and a half before going ocean cruising.

Most of the neighbours had also known my late wife, which made them learning from Amy that I now had, what probably appeared to them to be, four sexual concubines, no doubt something of a shock. Rumours came back to me that some people thought I was the head of some strange sex obsessed cult. If only they knew how ordinary and human our relationships were; even if they were unusual.

Together Liddy and Amy planted a vegetable garden and started to conspire to acquire a horse for the property. They were settling in for the long term.

Sexually too, there seemed to creep in something of a domestic approach to things. Liddy obviously gave up on the 'fear of missing out' drive to an over active sex life. She sought sex from me usually two or three times a week; perhaps only a bit more often than married couples our age might engage. That didn't really mean something like every second day. It was more random than that. But because of her shift work, she could usually get it on a one on one basis during the day.

Mind you, she would still do the 'fuck me' clothing as often and as powerfully as any of the younger girls.

The effervescence of Amy's enthusiasm for sex - which Liddy and I had put down to her being deprived for so long of anything but abusive intercourse and we thought would quickly enough evaporate - was in fact very slow to abate. For Amy, sex remained a daily desire for quite a while. And that sort of set the standard for the others.

Not that Issie needed any help in that area.

I felt, and deeper down I think Issie felt the same, that her period away had substantially changed our relationship. There was certainly still a very strong bond between us; but to me it was the bond of friendship, not the sort of bond that exists between intense lovers - the sort of bond I felt with the others.

Of course, life is not black and white in these areas. You can feel a love for a friend - the word still applies. And there's something of a spectrum of love that applies even to romantic lovers. But deep in my heart, I knew the period of separation had broken something and, maybe because Ellen had filed the hole, it wasn't going to be readily rebuilt.

But I felt the best word to describe Issie on her return was somewhat manic - in the nicest possible way. Her maternal clock was ringing deafeningly on her ears and she was desperate to find a life partner to give her the children she wanted. And she knew that wouldn't be me; as much as she kept subtly testing the issue.

The converse was that two years of abstinence had left her desperate for sex - emotionally and physically. She was all but insatiable. And unlike the others, whose sexual desires were also becoming somewhat more domestic and less driven by fantasy's - excepting Amy's bikini sex fetish - Issie clearly brought back some obsessions from the time she'd spent self pleasuring.

The bunk on the yacht was clearly one and she kept looking for excuses to get me alone on the yacht.

The unusual sex we'd often shared in the water off the back of the boat - where she'd dive in from the gunwale, leaving her bikini bottoms floating on the surface of the water in front of my face as she entered and then come up and have me penetrate her, squeezing and unsqueezing my manhood until I came, which would then trigger her orgasm - was another. For that she'd find an excuse to have me take her mid-week over to The Basin or the beach inside Longnose Point for a picnic where she could indulge in any number of her sexual obsessions - often in the same day. Because sex on the water's edge of a beach was another.

Being back in Sydney created some issues with meeting her needs. As clear as the water can be in Pittwater, it's not lacking in sharks and I never felt entirely comfortable hanging like a baited line off the back of the boat while I indulged her. And while mid week the beaches might be reasonably unpopulated, the risk of getting caught in action by a passer-by was ever present. These risks only seemed to add to the excitement for Issie, but I found them never far from my mind.

In a way, with the concurrence of our emotional distance and Issie's insatiable need for sex, I knew that this really meant that Issie was, to a certain extent, just using me for sex. All I can say is that, when the emotional connection is balanced, there are worse fates a man can suffer.

After all Tash did much the same; the difference here being Issie had not the slightest hang-up about our age differences and was uninhibited in making her desires known and getting them satisfied. We still found each other sexually attractive, so performance wasn't an issue. But I knew what she really wanted was another man to transfer her desires to.

Once she started work, the freedom she had to get me alone and have sex in public places mid week disappeared. The pool at home and even the bush around our property then became something of a substitute. But increasingly, it was Issie rather than Amy, who set the frequency and intensity level of the sex within our group.

Ellen too was clearly going through a change. Surprisingly, it wasn't until nearly a year later that I really found out what had been going on in her brain during that time. But there was, to use a slightly modern cliché, a disturbance in the force.

If I had to apply a word that best fitted what seemed to be happening to this smart independent woman, it is that she seemed to become more clingy; even as she was expanding her social horizons. Sexually that translated to more intimate sex. The requests for me to go the animal on her, or even to make beautiful love to her, transmogrified to a desire for me to simply engage in prolonged penetrative sex. It differed from the static 'penetrate me and go to sleep' stuff of the early days where I wondered if the girls were not engaged in some sort of hormonal battle for me. No, here the sex was active, just engaged at in a slow pace which maximised - often to extreme lengths - the time between initial penetration and it coming to an end with my climax.

And so, even in those first few months back home, the seeds of the future of our group had already been sown.