Unexpected Threesome Ch. 46

And the reason Amy's were more borderline is simply because their super taut fit and diamond shaped front highlighted more than even the previous bikini pants the prominent bulge of her mons, while failing to completely cover its flesh. It was arousingly sexually provocative. But of course, that wouldn't inhibit Amy from wearing them wherever she wanted.

The tops were about on par with the previous versions, but again slightly different.

The previous ones were slide string tris'. As seems to be the modern trend among influences, the triangle was too small to tie at a line below the breast without exposing a nipple, so had to be neck tied at the right height before the lower tie could be secured; exposing a lot of under-boob, cleavage and side boob.

On the new ones, the triangles were no bigger -- probably also a smidgen smaller -- but were tied on to the body by a lower string that circled under the base of the breast, with the triangle of material floated mid breast because it was secured to that only by a pair of spaghetti strings that ran down from each lower corner of the triangle.

That too tautened the material more than might be expected on a slide tri top and made them more provocative. But by fixing the location of the triangle of material, it gave less room for customisation to fix different breasts.

With Ellen and Issie, the location of the triangle was about right in relation to the nipple.

The bigger breasts of Amy and Shelley suggested the triangle needed to be higher; the nipple sitting in the top third.

The bigger again breasts of Liddy came close to nipple exposure.

Any yet none of the girls showed the slightest inhibition in their new bikinis; excitedly showing them off to us men and each other.

Adam showed his appreciation by growing a partial boner in his speedos. It was immediately obvious and the girls, detecting weakness as enthuastically as any predator, piled in to prick tease him up to a full exposed massive erection standing obelisk like out of the top of his speedos; all by their mere proximity.

As she'd come up on deck, Amy had handed me her GoPro. She'd been filming the trip for the profitable little YouTube video channel and blog she runs in conjunction with Ellen and Issie; one that falls into the pejorative genre of 'girls in bikinis on boats'.

They're common enough. Usually it's a guy big noting himself about his around the world sailing prowess, using his attractive girlfriend as eye candy. The one run by the girls is particularly well patronised because of the number and attractiveness of the girls, the briefness of the sexualised clothing they always wear for camera, the fact that it is only the girls themselves who narrate it and that the old fart of an owner of the boat keeps himself as invisible as the girls will allow; Amy's constant insertion of suggestive foreplay scenes with me notwithstanding.

In short, they maximise the eye candy entertainment value and minimise the less interesting 'in between' footage by either omitting it or sexing it up and yet still appeal to a female audience with their well justified 'girls can do anything' message.

The reason for the sudden breakout of the new bikini uniforms was the instruction I'd been given to film them as the five of them climbed, still girlishly giggling about their teasing of Adam, over the lifelines on the side of the boat, lined up there and like some old time movie, still playing to the camera, dived elegantly in succession into the water.

I personally decided to continue filming as they re-emerged in a line off the boat. The bikini pants had been disappointingly taut enough that none of them had been dragged down as they'd hit the water, but most of them were caught repositioning their bikini tops after they were displaced to varying degrees by the dive. Amy would have to edit out the nipple exposures I'd captured.

Adam had become useful as eye candy for the women followers, but in this case I had to be careful not to accidently pick up an X rated view of him on the edge of the screen as I'd filmed the girls.

He was no less X rated as he subsequently climbed the rail and dived in too, but, with his knowledge, I filmed him just the same. The sight of his butt in swimmers is a constant source of favourable comments on the YouTube channel and Amy could edit out the bit before it where his oversize erection -- the size of two drink cans stacked one on top of the other and towering well over his navel -- is visible in profile with a background noise of the girls catcalling, him just before he jumps.

Well, no doubt, edit out and share a copy with Shelley and keep one on file for herself.

I then followed Amy's instruction to set up the GoPro on the stern mount to catch the girls climbing back into the boat from the stern platform. This permanent stern mount had been carefully placed and angled by Amy on the aft pulpit (the rail around the stern of the boat).

As the girls climbed the ladder onto the stern platform, it captured a sort of 'looking from the top, staring down at their cleavage' sort of view. Then as they stood up on the platform, it got a whole body view and finally as they climbed up onto the boat itself and moved towards the camera, it increasingly came to focus on their bikini pants and eventually (depending on the height of the girl) ended with a close up of their crotch just before they passed by the camera.

All in dripping wet, closely fitting and very brief swimwear. It was one of Amy's favourite editing tricks to make sure she made good use of this mount and the audience certainly appreciated it.

Of course, I had always been captured on this camera too; in speedos and with them clinging revealing to my manhood as I came out of the water. Usually a guy does a quick flick of the front of his swimmers to break the clingy seal with his dick before the view of it becomes too public. But with the camera running, that just made it more obvious and possibly opened up a 'down brief' view as you did it. So I too was captured with a close up view of the outline of my cock as I passed the camera.

A view that Amy insisted be frequently included, even though I think I'm too old to be anyone's eye candy. Of course, when Adam joined the boat that changed everything. With his tall muscular swimmers figure on a slim frame and a flaccid dick the size of most guy's erections contained in a tiny pair of swim briefs, suddenly Amy and the rest of the girls opened up a whole new audience for themselves.

But until this trip, the opportunities for filming had been a bit sparse since Shelley and Adam joined the boat; really only on race and training days. I could see that Amy was going to make the best of it

After dutifully following Amy's orders, I joined them in the water.

It was only intended as a quick refreshing dip before we went ashore for a picnic lunch and stretch of the legs. So I did little more than dive in and swam a quick fifty meters or so as I did a circle back to the boarding ladder. Climbing aboard, I then did a bit of a shark watch for the others before suggesting to them it was time to get ashore.

I saw Adam have a brief word with Shelley, no doubt asking her to bring whatever it was he might have needed with her as she came ashore, before he set out to swim to the beach. It might have been a good opportunity to get some training in for his competitive swimming, but Amy was going to be disappointed she didn't collect any footage of him getting back aboard.

The small inflatable and motor we'd brought on this trip was only designed for three persons. So given the number of people to be transported and the gear to go with them, it took three trips to get us all ashore. And given I was doing the driving on each trip and all of the passengers were attractive, very scantily clad women, I can't deny the trip was all of entertaining, distracting and somewhat arousing; more so as their breasts bounced provocatively in their small bikini tops with every wave.

Too early for lunch, we alternated between swimming off the beach and enjoying the sun ashore as we took in the sight of the day trippers on the excursion boats that arrived at the other end of the beach we were on.

We'd been ashore for about half an hour when I found myself swimming with Amy who, having led me out to chest deep water, started to become increasingly frisky. We had started out swimming gently and directionlessly side by side as we chatted, but to make it easier to talk to her, I flipped over on my back and gently paddled, my body descending down at an angle of about 45 degrees to the surface as I half trod water, half backstroked alongside her.

Although I'd done it somewhat absently mindedly and with a lazy bent, Amy had quickly allowed herself to drift over the top of me, leaving us face to face as we talked; she breast stroking equally lazily, the length of our bodies bumping together intimately.

As she crowed in on me, it became increasingly difficult to keep myself afloat as the closeness of her body inhibited any kicking or paddling to maintain neutral buoyancy. Surrendering, quite willing, to the fact Amy was looking for a bit of a pash, I lowered my feet and stood up in water that came up to just under my armpits.

Amy grabbed me around my neck and let her body sink to verticality in full contact with mine as she kissed me.

Her sinking body came against the partial erection that any intimate contact with Amy soon generates in even my old body. Caught in my swimwear, it was growing more out than up and she brought her thighs tightly around it with her crotch pressed down on it.

The effect was quite predictable. The partial soon became the full; hard and throbbing between her legs as Amy started rubbing herself back and forwards on it as we kissed.

But it seemed she couldn't quite get the contact or movement she wanted. After a little while she reached down into the water between our legs, stretched out the front of my swimmers to release my erection to go to its vertical position, wrapped her hand around it to tightly sheath my swimmers around where it extended over the waistband then held it in place as she carefully positioned it right in the spot she wanted it in her crotch.

With both arms wrapped tightly around my neck and her tongue deeply in my mouth, she then furiously mini-jerked her crotch against the tip of my erection, generating what struck me as something like the movement you get with very fast fingering against her clit.

As Amy had positioned herself and wrapped her legs around my thighs, I'd wrapped my arms around her back with my hands supporting her butt (or feeling up her bitt, depending on what emphasis you want on the action). With it being obvious she was looking for an orgasm, I took the arm on the seaward side and brought my hand up to cup her breast and tweak her rapidly jutting nipple between two fingers.

From the shore I figured it was probably not too much of a spectacle we were putting on. Yet. That would all change if Amy started screaming, which is why I encouraged her to keep kissing me.

Sure, Liddy, Ellen and Issie probably had not the slightest doubt what those little waves generating out in a circle from our bodies were caused by, however subtle Amy's above water movements might have been. After all, at one stage or another, they had all done the same with me.

But at least the day trippers wouldn't have known; however much they might have been put off by the sight of a completely stunning woman in her 30's pashing out with a guy my age.

She soon started moaning into my mouth, indicating her growing arousal. I let her control the movement of her crotch, but, given their sensitivity and ability to produce climaxes, it encouraged me to tweak her nipple all the more; pulling it from its bikini top covering to roll its hardened tower between my fingers.

With Amy looking for intimate contact in a public space, a good orgasm is a fast one.

Fortunately this one was a fast one. I still had Amy's face pinned to mine, even if the distraction of her arousal meant her tongue was more lolling in my mouth than exploring it, when her body tensed and a succession of mournful groans escaped her as she bound herself ever more tightly to me.

As she finished, she unwrapped herself from around my thighs and eased her feet back onto the sandy bottom. Her hand slid down my side, wrapped itself around her own back and covered the hand I had on her butt. Pulling it back to my side, she intertwined her fingers in it...

"Let's go for a bit of a walk into the Island."

She started to walk us ashore were most of the others were sitting on the beach. But I had a small problem of a raging erection which would be very visible in my swimmers as I left the water. The other former Screw Girls might be a bit blazie about it -- after all they'd have no doubt as to the reason we were going for a walk -- but it wasn't something I particularly wanted to display to Shelley and Adam, let alone to the other day trippers along the beach...

"Just a sec."

I released my hand from hers and dove forward into the water, swimming lazily towards the beach, trying not to think about the reason I was being dragged off, nor look too much at the bevy of beautiful women who surrounded me wearing not much of anything.

The water got too shallow to swim in and there was still too much on show, so I took a double back into the deeper water; looking for a combination of the physical exertion of swimming and the passing of time to do the job.

By the time I approached the beach a second time, where a patient Amy awaited me in the shallows, the situation had improved. Not gone away, but at least improved. Now at least there might be some ambiguity as to whether I was aroused or merely well hung.

Immediately as I stood up beside her, Amy grasped my hand again and started making a beeline through the water towards our towels up on the beach. Not even stopping as we reached them where they sat among the rest of the crew on the beach, Amy scooped them up and simply told the others...

"We're going for a bit of a walk."

Something in her tone conveyed the required message that this wasn't a general invitation. I gave Liddy the quizzical look we use to ask if this is OK with her. After all, in a way she has an entitlement to come with us to share in whatever might follow. But for the most part, Liddy likes her sex one on one, so she equally replied with the rolled eyes and 'go for it' nod of the head which is her usual response to this visual conversation.

I'd seen Amy studying the chart Ellen and I had laid out on the navigation table as we'd planned our approach. Clearly she had an idea of where she wanted to take me. We headed up the beach to a low scrubby rise.

As we navigated easily through the sparse bush to the other side we came to the creek that I'd seen on the charts running from the furthest eastern corner of the beach. The creek had two channels with a sandbank island in the middle.

The nearest channel was broad and shallow, whereas the further one was narrow, but the colour told me it was deep. Or at least deeper.

I can't deny there's a certain frission and anticipation when you're being led by the sensuously intertwined hand of the woman you objectively think is the most beautiful, loving and sexually desirable woman in the world to find a place to give her a good fucking. That was multiplied by the fact she was dressed only in a brief bikini clearly designed to sexualise the body wearing it.

From the moment she picked up the towels, my manhood responded by that sense of being filled with blood, even though I'd only just managed to supress the boner Amy had induced in me as we'd frolicked in the ocean. The feeling was not that of a full erection, not even a half mongrel, but that sense of engorgement to a big swinging dick, or what would be one if I wasn't wearing tight swimmers.

Letting her lead the way, I found myself half a step behind. She had me engaged in a conversation about the next step of our journey, swinging her arm that held mine in a playful way as we walked and in the process flipping my view of her body from slightly behind to slightly in front. It sort of reminded me of joyfulness and lightness of movement that harked back to the actresses in the teenage beach movies of the late 60's and early 70's.

Whatever other emotions the sight of her induced in me -- and they were many and deep -- one was pride and elation at the confident, loving and caring alpha female that she'd grown into as she'd cast off the oppressive blanket thrown over her spirit by her former abusive partner.

Transfixed and distracted I was finding it difficult to focus on the conversation even enough to provide lucid answers to her enquiries, as I couldn't avoid staring at her, however intimately familiar with her body I already was.

Amy's not tall, maybe almost petite.

Her frame was light, but very femininely shaped and curved. While her flesh covered her bones nicely, it just seemed devoid of fat; her commitment to exercise giving her a covering of firm muscular tissue, beautiful to the touch, which filled out her shape.

With most of her former life spent in a sunless England covered in the frumpy, high coverage clothing that her abusive partner made her wear, that tissue supported a flawless, light coffee coloured skin of absolutely exquisite perfection.

Being half a step behind, much of my view as she swung from front to back was of her delightfully shaped, just nicely filled out butt. The bikini pants she was wearing sexualised it to an aching degree. The slender line of its Brazilian cut sucked into her bum crack and the taut waistband and whale tail upper part of it circled and highlighted two butt cheeks of feminine magnificence.

With the little teasing show of exposed butt crack cleavage peeking out above the waistband adding to the sexualised display.

Above that was a proud, ramrod straight back down which cascaded her long, heavily sun bleached but naturally auburn hair; all of which made walking behind her, even when she was casually dressed in street wear, an act of pure arousing joy.

The side view as she swung was even more arousing, her upright carriage displaying a washboard flat stomach and a generous side-boob view of perky breasts which, as C cups, seemed unnaturally large on one so slender.

Of course, the teasing piece de sexualised resistance with Amy, especially in this bikini, was the prominent bulge of her mons which, as we walked, flipped in and out of my view too fast to be fully appreciated. As momentarily disappointing as my lack of ability to focus on it might have presently been, the knowledge that the time was coming where I'd be able to do a lot more than just view it soothed any sense of deprivation I might have felt.

As we waded across the slightly more than ankle deep water of first arm of the creek, Amy's swinging hand was directed by her to brush across the front of my swimmers and the substantial bulge already in them. As I'm sure she intended, that was all it took to change the bulge to a half mongrel; a Pinocchio nose of stiffening flesh projecting out horizontally in my swimmers.

I was a little bit worried Amy was going to pick the sandbank in the centre of the creek as the place for her fucking. It might have been comfortable, but was anything but private and maybe not really far enough away from the beach to muffle the sounds she was about to make.

But I foolishly underestimated her. We continued across the sandbank and then across the mid-thigh deep water of the second channel. She'd notice the effect of the first brush of her hand across my front and periodically repeated it, each time meeting an increasingly larger projection, which the friction of my wet stretch swimwear continued to direct horizontally.