Unexpected Threesome Ch. 46

It wasn't that long before I had nothing more to offer in size, additional contact merely produce a powerful surge in my erection, causing it momentarily to fight even harder against the stretched material sheathing it, inducing a momentary bounce upwards as the bell at the end of it noticeably flared.

I'd seen Amy scanning the far bank of the creek and she now made a bee line for a break in the scrubby bush and mangroves that lined most of the back.

That in turn revealed a wet sandy path, or really more a gap in the bush, since there was no evidence of a manmade or even frequently used path in the normal sense, which twisted and turned up a rise in the ground.

At the peak of the rise we emerged into a clearing, circled by bushes with a soft sandy floor.

I was floored...

"How did you know this was here?"

"I studied the map and had a bit of a look on Google satellite as we came into range of the telephone towers at what I assume was Roslyn."

Amy led us to the centre of the clearing, finding a nice spot of clean, clear sand. There she moved directly on front of me...

"Stand still."

Amy moved in front of me, backing up until my horizontal erection was pushing into the back of her bikini pants. Then she stood on her toes, bringing it between her legs with her butt firmly pressed into my lower stomach.

Positioned like that she took her towel and spread it like one would covering a bed with a sheet, letting it settle to the ground as flat as her initial throw would permit, bending over as she brought it down, her crotch turning on my shaft and pushing it deeply into her crease as she did. As she spent a moment tidying up the lie of the towel, rocking on my shaft more than her act of tidying the towel strictly demanded, I was left looking down at her stunning butt, the crack exposed above the waistband of her bikini with my surging shaft disappearing somewhere into it between her legs.

Finished settling her towel, she reached behind her back...

"Can I have your towel please?"

I passed it to her...

"OK, now put your hands on my hips."

Amused by whatever game she was playing, I dutifully complied...

"Now crab walk sideways with me."

Amy, still bent down and with her butt still against my stomach, stepped to the right, with me following synchronised with her. Another step and we were clear of the space covered by her towel. She stood up, threw the towel open and bent down again to settle it to the ground, repeating the process she'd gone through before, rocking on my shaft included.

As she stood up, she moved forward to extract my shaft from under her butt, turned to face me, pushed my shaft down again and stepped forward to embrace me with my manhood once again between her legs. She looked up at me grinning...

"That was fun. We'll have to practice making the beds at home like that."

Her countenance grew a little more intense as she added...

"Now Mr O'Neill, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to give my body as many orgasms as it can possibly take."

There are probably not too many women other than Amy likely to deliver a mission statement like that. I didn't get a chance to answer as she brought her face up to mine to passionately kiss me as she bore down on my shaft and started rocking herself more seriously.

If I was going to come close to satisfying her demands, I had to think about my own endurance. Given I had the refractory performance of a, 'cough', mature aged man, even if the fuck me clothing of the Screw Girls did wonders for it, I had, shall we say, one shot at it in the time we reasonably had available to us.

And I knew what she was doing rocking on my shaft was good for her, but it was maybe just a bit too good for me too.

Undoing the bow on the bottom string of her bikini top and pulling the strings off her back, I started to ease her to the ground, extracting my erection from between her legs as I did. As I laid her down, I started kissing down her body, releasing her right breast from its now loosened covering to let me spend a moment sucking her nipple, but saving for later my full enjoyment of that privilege.

As I kissed down her stomach, my eyes focused on her bikini pants and the bulge of the mons that lay inside it. Sure, with her slender figure and plank flat stomach, she had a glorious bikini bridge, but it was a bridge with for the most part exposed flesh on both sides, offering only the slightest tease. No, the real tease was that little diamond of tautly stretched material that covered that sensuously sexual mons.

With my face planted on her, kissing the top of her mons, I eased myself over her leg closest to me to kneel between her spread apart thighs. I took a moment to pull my head back and take in the vista below it, one that caused my erection to rage with desire.

As I stared at it, I realised why a garment that looked sexy and revealing but not indecent on the others, somehow looked inappropriate on Amy. The bulge of her mons so clearly delineated its extent in a way that was more ambiguous with the others.

The diamond shaped patch of material didn't come close to covering it, with exposed mons flesh on top and to both sides of the bikini pants. But then that had been the case with the previous style too, and yet they had barely raised an eyebrow, even if that had captured the eye.

The real issue, if you wanted to call it that, was a bikini bridge of a completely different type from that influencers love displaying. Where the spider wed of strings attached to each side point of the diamond, they pulled the patch of material tautly out, in the process lifting it off her mons in, with a little bit of moulding of the stretch fine cloth over the peak, almost a straight line from the outward projection of it. They offered the teasing prospect of something equivalent to, but far more sexual than, a down blouse peek -- a sort of into pantie peek.

And yet my brain was distracted by something far more compelling than the question of whether some Karen might have a legitimate reason to complain about Amy's bikini pants.

Her stimulation of herself with my shaft between her legs had pressed the wet material of her pants deeply into her aroused crease. Two perfectly formed arches of aroused labia, barely contained in the narrow gusset of her pants, corralled a deep valley of material stuck fast to the flesh below it. The features of that valley were clearly outlined, not least of which was the swelling of her bud.

Amy has always had a fetish about bikini sex; some of it going back to her abusive past. Whatever the cause, she's just as happy -- sometime happier - to be stimulated, and even fucked, with her bikini pants still on.

It may not always be my preference, but at that moment, overwhelmed by visual stimulation, I was more than happy to indulge her.

I brought my mouth down over that swollen bud. Opened wide, the tight turn and fullness of her mons at its base offered my mouth a comfortable bite as my tongue penetrated towards the raised prominence at its centre.

Amy squirmed and moaned in pleasure as my tongue flicked against it through the gossamer material and I took in the powerful aroma and taste of salt combined with Amy's juices which had permeated the material as she indulged her sexual desires since we'd come ashore.

Already worked up from having used my manhood as a dildo, Amy's arousal in response to my stimulation of her rose alarmingly fast. The moans grew louder and turned to screams as she jerked her hips back up at my oral embrace of her.

Part of me wanted to strip her of those sexy pants and suck the bare flesh of her bud between my lips, but things had gained a momentum that I dared not interfere with. I'd already planned my next step after I'd given her this first climax. Those pants would be off soon enough.

But it reminded me to unsheathe my own even more raging erection in preparation. As I pinned her with one hand to soothe the bucking that would otherwise dislodge my mouth from embracing her mons, I reached down with the other to undo the drawstring resisting my attempts to extract my manhood from its enclosure. Exposing it, I lifted my hips to let me ease my pants over my butt and down my thighs to where my knees were in contact with the ground, then lifted each knee in turn to eventually let me free myself entirely from the encumbrance of my swimwear.

None of that had interfered with my continued stimulation of Amy and I was barely free of them when, with a loud cry, she came; pinning my head into her crotch with her hand as she lifted her hips and swayed them from side to side, taking me for a ride with it.

I gave her a few moments to enjoy the peak of her climax before I broke free from her hold and knelt up. Using her still elevated hips to let me reach under and grab the back of the waistband of her pants between her legs, I peeled them off her bottom, then brought her legs together elevated vertically in front of me to pull them up and off her legs.

Immediately I spread her legs both sides of me again and crawled up over her body, penetrating the wet velvety fold of her receptive vagina and burying myself deeply in her as I lay on top of her in good time to feel the last contractions of her climax pummel my manhood.

Flooded with oxytocin, Amy embraced me for a kiss and I gave her a moment to enjoy the high of her post climatic bliss before taking her on the next orgasmic journey.

Nuzzling her cheek, I again kissed down the side of her face into her neck before moving to her breasts. With the bottom string of her top untied and the strings pulled out from under her body, her right breast already exposed and the left one merely covered by loosely draped material, I pulled the top over her head where Amy took over extracting to upper tie from under her neck and casting it aside.

On a figure like Amy's, nature would normally have bequeathed her breasts in the 'A' or 'B' cup range. Not Amy, she had these perfectly shaped, perky orbs of 'C' cup breasts which sat high and firmly on her chest. They weren't pendulous or unnatural looking in their proportions. You might say they were the breasts that sex obsessed men might have designed for a woman of her size instead of the somewhat smaller proportioned ones that ordinary biology usually associated with it.

Capping them were nipples that of themselves were capable of driving a man wild with desire. Both the areola and nipple were of a slightly larger diameter than normal and of a completely uniform mid brown colour that contrasted just the right amount with her light coffee coloured flesh to make them prominent.

The areola was like a low raised plinth on which the nipple sat; standing just slightly proud of the orb even at rest and visibly swelling with her arousal. As for the nipple itself, when aroused it was like nature's perfect plaything. So once again they sat in the goldilocks zone; not the ordinary little nipples that most women had, nor the grossly large, dark, unevenly coloured ones common on larger breasted women. Just these pictures of sexualised perfection.

And best of all, she is in the ten percent of women who can have an orgasm on nipple stimulation alone.

Arching my back and bending my neck to bring my mouth to her left nipple while remaining fully penetrated in her, I took the nipple into my mouth and raised it to its full jutting hardness.

It is such a delight sucking Amy's nipples. By taking the swollen plinth of her areola between your lips you can push the towering hardened nipple against the roof of your mouth and suck away on it and rub it with your tongue to your heart content; all while Amy squirms and moans under you in an increasingly aroused state.

Moving from breast to breast occasionally to keep them both fully jutted, I could tell Amy was soon approaching orgasm.

I wasn't thrusting as I was doing this. Merely enjoying the sensation of being fully penetrated in her, an occasional hard thrust only being required to ensure my manhood stayed completely in her as she squirmed about under me.

Already sensitised by her earlier orgasm, Amy wasn't long in coming this time either; the noises accompanying her nipple orgasms being somewhat more contained than her others; although far from quiet.

But really, in terms of Amy's mission statement, these first two orgasms were just foreplay; merely warming her up for what would follow.

Allowing a few more moments for kisses and cuddles, I withdrew from her and brought myself to kneeling between her thighs again, this time bolt upright. It was time for what Amy really wanted from me. Even if she didn't mention it by name, it was the only thing more or less guaranteed to fulfil her assigned mission. A G spot banger. Not any G Spot banger; but what the Screw Girls would know as The G Spot Banger.

I lifted her legs up vertically and hooked them over my shoulder; positioning her vaginal opening at the right height to accept my aroused penis thrusting in a slightly upward direction. Then moving my butt back a bit, I bent my shaft down and introduced the tip of it into her body, pushing forward to a half penetration.

Amy's G spot seems to be located more shallowly in her body than my understanding of what is normal

In a well-practiced routine, I withdrew from her enough to rake the tip of my shaft firmly across it and then pushed back to a half penetration; repeating that action at a slow pace a few times to get the muscle memory right. When doing this it was all too easy to pop right out; something that spoils the flow of my stimulation of her.

Even those slow test penetrations had Amy cooing in pleasure.

Satisfied I had it right, I increased the pace of my thrusting, bring it up to quite a rapid pistoning of her vagina.

There are a couple of reasons this is one of our favourite positions.

For me it offers good endurance. It's exhausting certainly, but it doesn't brew me up very quickly. Indeed, most of the time I have to change positions to bring myself to my climax.

But at the same time it offers me a lot of visual pleasure.

There is something really exciting about watching my shaft disappear into Amy's body and be withdrawn again, glistening in her juices. I will often break the smooth rhythm of my pounding of her g spot to fully penetrate her and screw my manhood around inside her, just for the pleasure of watching that happen.

The second part of the visual pleasure is watching her rag doll. With a light frame and only her shoulders in contact with the ground, her body gets pushed around a lot by my thrusting; her breasts wobbling delightfully with the movement.

For Amy, it offers numerous powerful orgasms, delivered in a continuous stream at a rapid pace. At the cost of near deafening screaming from her -- enough to have a hotel manager called to our room when we stayed in one during our Pacific trip - which is why she'd been deprived of it on the boat up until today.

Already erotically sensitised by the first two orgasms, Amy was loudly demonstrating her high state of arousal in response to my stimulation of her g spot before I'd even finished my warming up technique and getting the muscle memory right.

As I started thrusting more rhythmically, she predictably amped it up...

"OOOOOHHHHHHH...AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR...AARR...AAARRR...OOOOH"

Her body was rag dolling and writhing about in an enormously distracting way. And yet, it wasn't entirely due to my pushing her about with my thrusting. After all, I'm more rubbing her g spot than crashing forcefully into her butt at the end of each thrust.

Rather Amy seems to respond to what to her is intense stimulation by throwing herself about; something I can feel through her legs tensing and moving as they rest on my shoulder.

I knew she was approaching orgasm when the moans became as repeated short, but increasingly approaching the screaming register...

"OOHH...OOHH...OOHH...OOHH..."

With every thrust. I braced myself, physically and aurally as I knew what would follow as she climaxed. A screaming...

"OH FUCK...OH SHIT...OH MY GOD...YES... YES... YES... AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH...

YES... YES... AAAAAAHHHHHHH"

I brought her to full penetration and held her firmly there as Amy threw herself about, pushing back on me as she jerked her hips around and nearly knocking me off balance. All the time, I can feel her contractions bearing down on my shaft.

I was bemused by the sudden appearance of the "yeses" into her performance. The profanities and swearing interspersed with the general cacophony of screamed moans and groans are all par for the course. The Meg Ryan like "yeses" were new and I wondered if they were to reassure any strangers within hearing distance that they didn't need to come to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Rather it would be prudent for them to stay away.

The holding her in full penetration was only a moment's respite. I've been schooled in how to maximise Amy's pleasure from this for long enough now. As soon as the first throw of her body was over, I started pistoning against her g spot again, sending her into an apoplexy of screaming.

From there her climaxes come fast and furiously until I can no longer tell whether what I'm seeing and feeling in a new orgasm or the second, third or subsequent wave of the previous one.

Even as I spend a moment to watch my shaft be pushed into full penetration and hold it there to recover my breath from what is, after all, a fairly intense workout for me, once she's reached this plateau, Amy keeps screaming and writhing like I was inflicting some exquisite torture on her.

There are two ways this seemingly endless succession of induced orgasms reach their peak as a prelude to being brought to an end.

One is I brew up and dump my load in her. You can't do what I was doing with a soft cock.

But as I said, this technique isn't one to normally challenge my endurance.

After she'd had I don't know how many orgasms, this one finished in the second way. With a call of...

"AAAHHHH...BROKEN VAGINA"

Amy jerked her hips forward to unpenetrate herself, slipped her legs off my shoulders and collapsed down onto the ground, rolling over into as much of a foetal position as her legs being either side of my knees would allow and kept moaning, groaning and rolling around with her hands between her legs as her body continued to climax without and additional input from me.

But it was only about 30 seconds of this when, while Amy was still in her foetal position and writhing and moaning about, the call of...

"Go the animal" came between her moans.

It took a long time for her to train me to do what she now wanted me to do.

Ellen trained me to overcome my natural reservations with mock anger and hard smacks on the butt delivered on the spot. Amy's training comes in the form of patient explanations delivered after the fact in the expectation I'll better understand and do it right next time. For Amy, patient explanations are the solution to all the world's problems; including but not limited to, having prolonged screaming orgasms on small crowded yachts.

Still, what I had to do defied every natural instinct I had.

I lay down on Amy as I forcefully rolled her on her back and straightened her out from her foetal position and then penetrated her. Even as I did that, I could feel her vagina still going through multiple contractions against my erection as her groans accosted my ears, which were momentarily close to her mouth, at near deafening levels.

For the Screw Girls, "go the animal' was and is an instruction for me to deliver them a lustful, erection stimulating focused, pounding. Nothing more, nothing less. The sort of thing that recent generations have being trying to teach men not to do.

It begs the question of why a women, who a minute ago had to disengage from me with a 'broken vagina', is now demanding I effectively pound her -- for want of a better word.