Unexpected Threesome Ch. 47

As much as laying naked with Amy was a delight without limits, there came a time we really had to get back to the others on the beach.

Almost reluctantly, we got up and put our swimwear back on, walking hand in hand with our fingers intimately interlocked, back down the path towards the creek.

We were about to step into the first of the two fingers of the creek when I felt Amy freeze. Perving as subtly as I could at the side view I had of her glorious breasts with their somewhat inadequate bikini top covering and jutting nipples, I'd been a bit distracted from watching where I was going.

Instinctively, my gaze drifted up to her face and then towards where her eyes were transfixed on something.

That something was Shelley and Adam in full flight, having coitis in a reverse missionary position. About five meters upstream from our path directly across the river, Adam was lying in the shallow water at the far bank of the creek, only the top of his thighs above the water. Shelley was on top of him, her legs spread wide outside his, banging away rapidly at him.

Either in a hurry or not wanting to risk losing them, they'd pulled their swimwear aside rather than taking it off; the waistband of Adam's pulled under his balls, the crotch of Shelley's pulled completely aside.

From where we were we had a grandstand view up between Shelley's legs where Adam's shaft was rapidly disappearing into and emerging out of Shelley's body, with just enough of a side angle to see her breast swinging with her movements against the palm of Adam's hand, presumably allowing her to stimulate her nipple against it.

Two things stopped us -- well, no, me -- from simply diverting our eyes and finding another path home.

One was the lack of alternatives. Immediately downstream from us a large stand of mangroves jutted out into the creek, not just stopping us from walking along a fringe of sand that way, but presenting a foot hazard on their roots if we tried to wade in that direction around them. Upstream meant a long path closer towards them before trying to skirt around them unnoticed.

The other related to the size of Adam's manhood and the manner of its current engagement. Hung like a horse, hung like an elephant, the size of two drink cans stacked one on top of the other. They are all descriptions the girls have applied to the size of it.

Until I saw it in its aroused state as Adam emerged from his cabin early in the morning at the start of this trip, I thought they were all rather hyperbolic. I no longer think so. The last -- the size of two drink cans stacked one on top of the other, probably offers the most literal description of its size -- both length and girth - in its aroused state.

Shelley is such a slim young lady, I almost found it impossible that...for want of a better phrase, she could fit it in her body. But was exactly where it was, to a smaller or larger extent as she thrust it in and out, as Amy and I came upon them.

To say that all the rest of the girls have had something of a fascination with Adam's manhood would be an understatement. Partly -- no in my view, largely -- for their own enjoyment, it was they who insisted the yacht is prepared for undocking with the crew dressed only in the 'uniform swimwear'; speedo like swim briefs for the guys and tiny bikinis for the girls -- like Amy and I were wearing now and Shelley and Adam would be wearing if they had moved them aside for other purposes.

Sure, they say it's to flaunt themselves at me to keep my testosterone up to help me satisfy Amy's insatiable sexual appetite as well as create a vibe for the boat amongst its competitors. And I get told it was really because Ellen wanted to perve at me in them. But the fact is they take every opportunity offered -- when working in close contact with Adam, such as dragging a heavy sailbag up onto the deck -- to tease him into fully exposed arousal by a combination of supposedly incidental brushing against him and accidental exposure of their breasts as they grapple with the sailbag.

From what I hear it has been the story of Adam's life. Indeed, as far as I can judge, the girls got the idea from stories of the girls in Adam's swim squad doing the same to him; the one standing behind him in the waiting line of swimmers, holding her ground, while the one ahead backs up on him and rubs her butt on his cock while she pretends to express her excitement about something happening in the pool.

It's happened to him so often, he just rolls his eyes instead of getting embarrassed about it.

I must admit, I found it...well...interesting, to get a glimpse of the proceedings. Had my balls not just been drained by Amy, it might even have been a little arousing. But it was way too early for any reaction from down there. I quickly found myself looking for an escape path around them.

But Amy was transfixed. Her hand was tightening in mine and her nipples jutting even harder as she nothing less than stood there and stared at the sight.

I whispered into her ear...

"Should we find another way around?"

She took a very cursory glance left and right, before replying, while staring back at the couple...

"There isn't one."

By now the sounds they were making had drifted across and attracted our focus. They weren't screaming or even making as much noise as they do on the yacht. Clearly they were trying to keep it down. Still, Shelley's grunts were clearly audible over the background sounds of the wind and the wavelets running up onto the beach behind them; accompanied by the occasional moan from Adam.

As Amy had reduced our options to stand there and wait for them to finish, I found it very hard not to follow Amy's lead and watch. There was something compelling interesting about the sight of that monster entering her body and emerging again, time after time; although I did notice she only ever penetrated him for about two thirds the length of his shaft. As guilty as I felt, and as much as I hoped they would finish soon, it was difficult to take my eyes off it.

Personally I was rather pleased when something in the tone of Shelley's grunts told me she was on the edge of a climax; a sort of humming noise that intermingled with the grunts. She started to thrust him more vigorously, clearly grinding her clit on his pubis.

Vocally, she revealed her climax with a rapid series of...

"Ah...ah...ah...ah..." as she suddenly started pumping Adam harder and faster.

You could see Adam's thighs tense and hear a pronounced...

"OOoouuuuuuu..." drift across the creek as Shelley induced in him the climax her rapid thrusting intended.

Amy made us step back a bit, to lose ourselves in the bush somewhat, as Shelley collapsed down on Adam for a bit of a post climax cuddle. But clearly deciding it was time to get back to the beach, Shelley soon slid sideways off Adam, dropping her pussy into the creek water to catch the flood of cum that exited her body as soon as she was unplugged.

Still on her tummy, she reached over her butt and splashed water on herself, before pulling the crotch of her bikini back into its proper positions. Then she rose into a kneeling position alongside Adam, her breasts still hanging out of her pulled aside bikini top, sneaking a kiss before she splashed water over his still fairly hard cock to clean it and bent it down to tuck uncomfortably back into his speedos; all while Adam played with her nipples.

Finally she stood up, pulled her bikini top back over her breasts and offered a still prone Adam a hand to get up.

From there they quickly disappeared over the sand ridge and back onto the beach with the others.

Allowing them a few moments head start, Amy and I followed, still walking hand in interlocked hand, to find the others just getting into the lunch we'd bought ashore.

I was sitting next to Amy over lunch when Ellen sidled up to me, a grin on her face...

"So where did this 'yes, yes, yes' come from? Have you guys been watching too many movies?"

Ellen had answered the question I'd been wondering about...

"So the noise carried did it?"

"Well, let's see now. I'd guess it was a G Spot banger followed by a go the animal."

"Was it really that bad or do you just know Amy's preferences?"

"We heard it OK and I know the sounds of them both. Amy's not the only one who's had them. I don't think it disturbed the tourists up the other end of the beach if that's what you mean and if it did, it came across as definitely an episode of public indecency rather than assault and murder. I suppose that's where the 'yes, yes's' came in handy. But I could see Issie would have liked to voyeuristically get in for a look at what was happening and Shelley and Adam excused themselves for their own frolic. I definitely think you could call it a disturbance in the force. And a major public indecency."

As Amy squeezed my balls, with the hand she'd had over my thigh, at the mention of Adam and Shelley's frolic, I teased Ellen...

"And you've never committed a public indecency?"

"Harry, regrettably, is very much a bedroom sex man; well with a bit of lounge room sex thrown in, but mainly bedroom. So being without sin, I can throw the first stone."

"What, no public indecencies on Pacific Islands? Sex off the back of a yacht in a crowded anchorage? On a windsurfer floating in an equally crowded waterway? In the bushes up the back of Portuguese Beach in Pittwater? Screaming sex in and around a backyard pool?"

Ellen momentarily blushed at being reminded of the many places we'd had sex. Bumping me playfully on my shoulder, she retorted...

"They were with a previous, now discarded, lover who was a really bad influence on me. I'm absolved of those sins. And the backyard pool was on an acreage."

"Are we talking about a priestly absolution or a self-granted one?"

"Absolution through marriage. All previous indiscretions are left behind."

"I didn't know it was that easy."

"Nor did I until I just made it up."

Ellen turned and made a playful face as she poked her tongue out at me like a three year old terminating a discussion she didn't like the direction of, or in Ellen's case had just conceded defeat in. Through all of this Amy had sat quietly, a smirk on her face and her hand over my thigh playing with my balls, secure in the likelihood it was too early for them to react but every bit of tease shortens my refractory period.

Lunch wasn't long finished when we decided it was time to get back to the boat and move on to our next objective in the trip north. From where we were the town of Mackay was the last place before Hamilton Island we'd be able to provision up without a major detour.

With the tide having retreated and the swim to the boat shortened, Issie motored the inflatable back to the boat with all the gear in it, while the rest of us swam it.

Adam of course powered ahead, stopping and waiting from time to time for Shelley to catch up. I found myself surrounded by Amy, Liddy and Ellen.

As we got to the boat, I held onto the ladder to let the girls climb up first. It is my instinctive act as a gentleman, but it can't be denied, it offers certain advantages.

In their tiny, taut, Brazilian backed bikini bottoms I was treated to a visual feast. Amy went first, which was in a way a pity because I'm a 'keep the best to last' type.

Holding onto the ladder right under her, not only was I treated to the water cascading off and out of her bikini pants and the hot buns of an arse they surrounded, but the eye candy bulge of her mound, which might have started with an inverted dimple down the centre of it, but soon developed a decided crease through it as she spread her legs apart to climb the ladder.

She knew I was watching too and put on quite a show for me.

Even in her 50's Liddy's was no less cute; it just lacked the sexualised mound of Amy's.

As Liddy was climbing the ladder, Ellen floated alongside me, also holding onto the ladder but seemingly carelessly drifting into and over my own floating body which ran down from the ladder more at an angle of about 60 degrees rather than vertically...

"It's about 150 Nautical Miles to Mackay. At a good speed that'll get us there about late morning tomorrow."

"That should leave us plenty of time for shopping before moving onto the Whitsundays."

This was a common Ellen play when we swam off the back of the boat, even with her husband watching over the aft rail. It was just one of those Ellenisms we all tolerated. I'd instinctively dropped my body back to the vertical, not to get too intimate with Ellen in our near naked state, but, as she always did, she'd soon drifted up against me as she continued the conversation...

"Yes, but we'll have to be careful overnight. The whales are much more common now. Maybe we should post someone on the bow and hope that the moonlight is enough to give us some warning. I'm not sure whether the engine running helps them keep out of the way, but you'd think it couldn't hurt."

By now her crotch was riding over where my flaccid manhood rested sideways in my swimmers and pushed firmly down on it. Had Amy not drained my balls not that long ago, she might have got a reaction from me. Even as it was I felt I could sense a bit of a swelling as she continued...

"There's a few reefs and Islands too. We don't want to end up like the yacht Apollo."

"I'm surprised you've ever heard of the yacht Apollo. That went up on Lady Elliot Island in the 80's. Before you were even born."

"Dad sailed on it and always talked about what he thought was a sad fate for a famous yacht. You know what fathers are like. They never stop talking about their glorious past"

The chop was bouncing us around, causing her crotch to bounce on my manhood. It was in danger of reacting...

"Well, we'd better get the show on the road to make the best use of the remaining daylight hours. Are you going to climb up and show me your cute arse as you get aboard or not?"

Ellen grinned...

"Sure old man. I'll even put a show on for you."

Ellen's hands disappeared under the water, leaving the only way she was secured to the boat being a leg wrapped around the back of my knee and her crotch as a result bouncing even more firmly against my still flaccid, but now slightly engorged, cock. I could feel her hand hitching her bikini bottom up.

As she climbed the ladder a show was exactly what I got. The small bikini pants had little to give in the way of being pulled up further and everything they did give was gained by pulling the back of them even more deeply into her bum and the front into a camel toe. And she sashayed up the ladder in a way only someone as confident as Ellen can.

I followed up with my swimmers glued by the water to a manhood that still lay sideways across the leg seam, but bulging out and extending much closer to the side seam than was normal. It was still no competition for Adam but certainly gave me an insight into what he deals with.

We had the anchor up and were underway even before everyone was dried; a still dripping wet Amy having the engine on and Issie raising the anchor chain as soon as she saw me half way up the ladder.

The day still had enough heat that, once you'd towel dried, it was most a matter of what sun protection you wanted than what you needed to keep warm.

I resorted to a long sleeve polo shirt over my swimmers. All the girls just used sun screen and stayed in their bikinis; some sunning themselves on the cabin roof. Adam, more worried about displaying the giant bulge of his lower half than anything else, went with a pair of board shorts over his swimmers and a bare chest.

Still, by about 4 pm, the chill started to set in and most of them put on something warmer as we settled back into the watch system in preparation for the evening.

Until dusk we had full sail set and continued to surf with the following wind -- sometimes hitting an impressive 13 knots.

But as the evening darkened we reefed sail and slowed the boat down; an engine in idle and the depth sounder operating to try and give any whales nearby a warning of our approach. We also put someone on the bow.

It was a bit of a cold place to sit and we took extra harnessing precautions to stop them being ejected from the boat if we hit a whale, but it did work to warn us about a few whales we travelled close to during the night. And those we neither saw nor hit, I suppose we'll never know about.

Down below things were as quiet as they'd been since we started the trip.

There was never any guarantee that even the best G Spot banger and go the animal follow-up would sate Amy, but for this one night it did; or at least to give her credit where it's due, she let it sate her. And while Liddy wanted and got her turn at me, she's learnt to take multiple orgasms without making anything more than a hissing and sucking noise if the occasion demands it. The grunts and groans of my climax were probably the loudest part of our intimate engagement.

First light saw us a little north of Percy Island, between it and Digby Island and soon setting full sail again to keep us coasting along at a good speed.

It was as we approached Mackay mid-morning that the girls got into a discussion as to whether the uniform protocol would apply at Mackay and if so, what they'd wear. The first part of the discussion didn't last long; the girls were unanimous that it would apply -- the guys didn't get a say.

There was a bit more debate about what it would be. Amy and Ellen were pushing for the hot pants and crop tops. But the day was a bit cooler than the previous one and we'd be going into town for shopping, so they eventually settled on the long sleeve polo shirts and white leggings.

And so, as we pulled into the Marina at Mackay it was with the deck lined by a bevy of beauties dressed in obscenely tightly fitted white leggings and closely fitted polo shirts which Amy had arranged to be recut to turn the previously button up fronts into plunging necklines. And the display of cleavage and nipples on high beam made it obvious none of them had a bikini top underneath.

I thought they were to be worn with a white g string bikini underneath, but I could see no evidence of any VPL anywhere. I'd hate to think what would be on show if it rained while we were in town. [It turns out what I thought were meant to be bikini pants were actually a seamless, hem less pair of a sort of very fine stretch silk like cut away panties. But that's another story]

Adam and I got off more lightly with white Chinos and undoctored polos, even if the girls had made sure Adam's was tight enough to show every muscle on his competition swimmers chest.

With the name of the yacht embroidered on them, this was going to be an interesting trip into town.

Just as interesting would be the footage Amy had set up to shoot as we entered the marina. With one camera mounted on a rail where it was focused on the girls as they went about docking and the other held by Adam with an instruction to focus on the marina, the town and especially any gawking crews of other boats, it wasn't hard to imagine what Amy was angling for. And from what I could see as I maneuvered the boat, she wasn't lacking in results.

This video channel, first started by Issie when she was on the boat as we cruised the Pacific, takes to the extreme the pejoratively named genre of 'girls in bikinis on boats'. Amy took it over when Issie had to fly home and, if anything ramped it up, with -- much to my surprise, it what strikes me as these more conservative, or maybe politically correct, times compared to the 70's and 80's of my youth - all the other girls being willing participants.

I have pondered why a woman like Amy, with a background of a 10 year highly abusive relationship, and now a successful professional career, would be so keen to publicly flaunt herself. In part I think it's something of an 'up yours' to her previous partner. But I was listening to the radio the other day when the Cindy Lauper song "Girls Want to Have Fun" came on, and one line particularity struck me as being applicable to Amy...