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"What about if you don't make it?"
"Then you can finger me."
All the time she had been undulating against me, rubbing her mound on my hard shaft, which in Amy's case seems to provide all the foreplay she usually needs. So as her hands suggested it was time to reposition myself between her legs and she started to lift her legs up, I followed her lead.
I watch transfixed as she lifted her legs first to the vertical, then used her hands to pull them down so her knees sat more or less neatly snugged outside her breasts.
As I bent over her, I used one hand to position myself to enter her as the other took the weight of my upper torso. The angle of penetration requires me to push downward into the bunk, rather than thrust horizontally upward. As so, as I lowered myself down, I concurrently pushed myself deeply into her; feeling my shaft bend and be contorted as it followed whatever shape this folded position put Amy's internal organs into.
Supporting as much of my weight as I could on my arms and folded knees, I started lifting my hips to partly withdraw my shaft and plunge it back in again as I lowered myself. The problem with this position -- if you really want to call it a problem -- is that it offers really, really deep penetration while it feels like your shaft is being massaged as it follows what feels like the contours of her vagina. And I say 'feels' because frankly I don't know what's going on inside there; just know it feels great.
There's no slow build up. No 'free' thrusts, by which I mean thrusts that don't seem to be bringing me closer to a climax. Almost from the first plunge there's was this 'oh my god that feels nice' wash of pleasure ran through the length of my shaft.
To slow things down, I tried screwing the fully penetrated shaft around inside her while circling my pelvis down on her clit and then following that with an upward thrust and enjoying the rag dolling of her body that produced. It still felt incredibly good, but maybe was brewing me just a little slower that the plunges. I was grateful for Liddy having emptied my balls a few hours ago or I suspected I would have gone off by the tenth plunge.
The plunges were triggering a little grunt in her, while the screwing around and thrusts seemed to generate something closer to a moan; also encouraging me to do more of the latter.
Whatever I was doing, I got the result I wanted as Amy tensed and came, only a prolonged moan signifying her climax, instead of the screams that were likely to follow any additional ones.
Released from guilt or obligations I lifted and plunged my shaft repeatedly, causing me to quickly follow Amy into a powerful orgasm. I lay down on her -- supporting my weight as best I could on my knees and elbows -- groaning in her ear while rush after pleasurable rush of cum, or whatever it is that feels so good, ran the length of my shaft and terminated against Amy's cervix.
Even after it stopped the warm, comforting embrace of my still hard shaft in Amy's vagina left me unwilling to roll off her just yet. Amy stroked my hair and spoke to me like a benevolent mother supporting her child through a scary experience...
"There you go. You didn't have to worry about me climaxing. See how easy it was."
I giggled internally while loving her for her gentleness...
"What worked better for you, the thrusts or the screwing about?"
There was a pause as Amy formulated her answer.
"They both were nice. Either could have made me cum. But the screwing about probably made me get there a little quicker. But you know, the thrusts feel really intimate and give me a nice all over feel, so don't neglect them."
Sometimes when I get Amy on a roll of downloading information like that I almost want to get forensic about it. A sort of 'can you draw me a picture of what I'm triggering'. But enough was enough.
Anyhow, my penis still rested comfortably and stiff inside Amy. If nature intended that it be able to do that to plug the puddle of cum and juices in which the tip now rested, it was doing a good job. And the flood of low level pleasure generated by it merely resting there in the warmth of her body's embrace was enough to keep it stiff for the time being; even if I knew that trying to thrust it would pretty quickly turn it to jelly.
While it was like that, there were other issues I was trying to address.
One certainly was how uncomfortable it was for her to be bent double with her ankles almost alongside her ears and whether I should just get off her, however regretful my penis would be if I did. The crushing embrace with which she held me in position suggested not.
The other went to the core of her original 'fold me up......no extras' instruction, and its intended single orgasm for her outcome. I knew she did it for my sake so she didn't end up having a sequence of screaming orgasms on the crowded boat. But I'd resolved not to let that inhibit our sex too much given how precious orgasms are to her and the love hormones they generate in her.
What we had was a conflict of good intentions; each of us wanting to do the right thing by the other. But if we left it at that, it occurred to me it would be the first time since she first came to my bed that she didn't have multiple orgasms. I looked for a compromise...
"Can I suck your nipples?"
I had to ask her, first of all because I needed her to release me from the grip she had on me to do it, and secondly out of respect for her 'no extras' instruction. But it seemed like a good compromise because, while she easily has nipple orgasms, they tend not to be screamers.
"You remind me of the videos I've seen of my young nephew asking for boobies from his mother. But since you've been such a good boy, yes you can."
She eased her grip on me enough for me to get my mouth over her nipple. The words make it sound easier than it was. I was still plugging her and not keen to lose that privilege just yet, she's shorter than me and has a bigger legs to body legs ratio, all of which meant I had to arch my back and bend my neck to get there.
But the reward made it worth it. Amy's breasts are the most beautiful I've ever seen. Lovely golden orbs certainly, but the piece de resistance are her nipples; a beautiful uniform dark brown colour, a bit bigger in diameter and fully hardened length than normal but only to an extent that makes them visually and orally compelling, but most exciting of all they sit on an areola that puffs up into a beautifully sculptured volcanic cone, pushing the jutting combined edifice even higher.
To take one into your mouth, hold the puffy areola between your lips, push the jutting nipple against the roof of your mouth and roll it against your tongue or suck it is almost as heavenly as having your erection inside her body.
Almost immediately she started moaning. Nothing dramatic, just a low continuous moan. After a few moments, she commented...
"Oh Ned, that beautiful; so lovely...hhhhmmmmm..."
I had to smirk into her breast my reaction to the way she said 'lovely' with a pronounced rolling English accent when most of her speech has been degraded to something more affected by Australian influences these days.
I'd only just changed breasts for the first time to keep them both wet and at peak arousal when her lower body tensed around my shaft and she climaxed; audibly groaning, but not making much of a scene of it.
I kept sucking and she kept groaning; like a quieter version of when she gets into a continuous state of orgasm.
By the time I'd changed breasts three more times, she was starting to get a fair bit louder. Suddenly she pulled my face off her breast and bought it up level to hers, where my lips were left idly playing against hers as the groans of her orgasm continued for a while.
As her orgasm subsided, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss...
"That was really nice and I didn't even scream."
"I'm glad you liked it."
She squeezed the hard shaft that was still inside her...
"It's still hard. Does it want some more?"
The fact was, the lifespan of the substantial residue of my erection had been longer than normal; helped to no small extent by the stimulation offered by the tensing of her body through her orgasms. But this was a verbal question and answer we'd played many times before as a well-rehearsed routine...
"It's a greedy little thing. It always wants more. But we both know it will dissolve to nothing if it gets what it wants."
"I don't know that it's that little. Or are you now comparing yourself against Adam? If so, don't. It might be fun to look at, but I wouldn't want anything as big as Adam's inside me. I cringed every time I watched that thing impale Shelley even if it was compelling viewing."
"I thought you got rather turned on watching?"
"In a way I did. But it didn't stop me cringing."
Was aware I was still lying on a woman folded in two. I eased myself off her and lay back down alongside her, letting her bring her legs out straight again. Amy gave herself a little a little stretch before turning and cuddling into me...
"Thank you. That was nice."
"It was nice for me too."
We quickly drifted off into a sound sleep. So much so that neither of us stirred when Liddy crawled back into the bunk at the end of her watch.
When I next woke up, it was to a cabin brightly lit by and quickly warming up to the morning sun. I could hear someone on deck, so with Amy and Liddy still asleep, I crawled out of the bunk, donned a pair of swimmers and went into the main cabin to survey the scene.
I found Ellen and Shelley sitting in the cockpit in their bikinis, quietly chatting as the sipped on their morning coffees.
Using the hot water in the kettle to make a cup for myself, I half climbed the cockpit steps to join them. Ellen shuffled to the side a bit, inviting me to sit next to her. In a way this was a lose/lose decision, the only real answer to which would have been to go down and put on a pair of loose trousers or shorts.
The sexual frission between Ellen and me goes both ways. For reasons that are completely inexplicable given our age difference, there has always been some hormonal communication between us that arouses us in the presence of the other; and that arousal can easily become visually physical if we're in close contact and half naked. As much as I joke about the girls' obsession with having bikinis and speedos as a part of the boat uniform being a way of perving at Adam, the fact was Ellen was pushing for it before Adam joined the boat. And she was quite blatantly pushing for it to get me dressed down to the state she wanted to see me in; the state we'd travelled most of the Pacific in.
In fact the girls, for complex reasons and led by Ellen and Amy, had always made the bikinis their standard boat preparation uniform; it was just the guys they had trouble getting to follow them, as much as they tried and even if we loved perving at them.
Adam joining simply gave them the moment of leverage to make it official and enforce it.
During this trip an imbalance has arisen because Ellen doesn't have her husband to take out her frustrations on, whereas my balls are kept well drained by Amy and Liddy. So what is really a mutual thing appears more one sided than it is.
But well drained balls don't fully protect you from physical arousal once your refractory period has passed. And the latter for me, at that moment, was untested but borderline.
If I sat next to Ellen, she'd sit intimately close and I'd likely grow a boner; fully visible to Shelley. If I sat next to Shelley, I offend Ellen, she'd open her legs and generally flaunt herself at me, I'd still probably grow a boner and so be no better off, even if it didn't leave Shelley sitting opposite looking at it.
Before my lower half was visible as I climbed the steps to the cockpit, I readjusted the sit of my manhood in my swimmers to point it down back into my crotch, it the hope any boner might be less obvious that a straight pole tenting them out.
Then I sat next to Ellen. As expected I soon found my upper thigh in direct contact with hers and the arm she'd casually spread along the coaming of the cockpit, became an arm around my back if I relaxed back onto the coaming.
Such is life. Ellen and Shelley are both good company and interesting to talk to. I wasn't going to spoil some pleasant companionship by sitting tense and upright. This was situation normal. We'd been here before and would be here again. I simply relaxed into the situation I was in, even resting back on the coaming and against Ellen's arm, allowing her to curl her hand around my flank.
As she relaxed too, she brought her foot furtherst from me up onto the cockpit seat and wrapped her arm around it. The effect was to cause the waistband of her bikini to go slack, lifting even the tiny front piece away from the top of her mound, exposing the whole of it to my down pants view. And because her flank was resting so close to mine, it caused my shoulder and arm to overlap her body, leaving me few safe places to rest my hand and ensuring my upper arm brushed her breast every time I moved it.
Ellen's nipples were soon prodding out her bikini top on high beam and I dare say, if her raised foot wasn't blocking the view, Shelley would be able to see a certain amount of dampness permeating the gusset of Ellen's bikini bottom.
But I was no innocent. It was lucky I'd taken the precaution I did. My manhood had swelled into a substantial bulge in my swimmers -- enough to draw the leg elastic away from my leg. But because it was folded to bend itself double as it grew, it seemed to limit the potential for a full erection.
The thing is, nothing changed when Amy and Liddy came on deck, or anyone else on the boat. It wouldn't have changed if Ellen's husband suddenly appeared. This was simply how Ellen always dealt with me, regardless of who was about. There was nothing sneaky about it. The only sneaky thing was me attempting to avoid a boner on public display.
By the time everyone collected in the cockpit with whatever morning brew they needed, it was time for breakfast.
Issie volunteered to go down and make her French Toast speciality while we up anchored and moved the boat to a better, more sheltered and closer to the beach location on the Southern end of Whitehaven Beach. As an aside, Amy spotted Issie uninhibitedly dancing to the music playing on the boats sound system as she cooked the toast and sneakily videoed it; the clip itself becoming a somewhat famous YouTube meme of itself among sailors who follow such videos and earning her the moniker of "French Toast Girl."
We'd chosen Whitehaven to spend two nights before moving into Hamilton Island for a few reasons. On the business side, we needed to jump in and polish the underwater part of the boat and the clear waters and sandy bottom of Whitehaven was as good a place as any to do this. But it was also one of nature's wonders and a good place to relax, swim, go for walks and generally rest after the broken sleep of our long sail. And if we fancied a spot of snorkelling, the reef at Border Island wasn't too far away.
Once we'd anchored, we put the boom awning over the cockpit, leaving everyone a choice of sunning themselves on the cabin roof or staying in the shade of the cockpit; assuming they didn't just go back to sleep below decks.
The younger girls -- Amy, Ellen, Issie and Shelley -- chose to cover themselves in sun screen and lay themselves out in a row on the cabin roof; a delightful line up of stunning women in tiny matching bikinis. Amy made sure Adam got some video of it too before he too joined them in the line-up.
With a combination of the early morning warmth and interrupted sleep for the last week, I suspect most of them were soon drowsing off.
I was feeling the effect of sleep deprivation too. Not really able to find a comfortable position in the cockpit, I excused myself and went down to lie on the bunk, collapsing onto the bed in my speedos. Five minutes later -- just as I was once again drowsing off -- Liddy came in and lay down alongside me; cuddling up to me as I faced towards her.
I put my arm over her and momentarily lost myself to sleep.
But with the sunlight flooding the cabin and the day warming up, it was a shallow distracted sleep. It can only have been a short time later I found myself half-awake with an erection captured uncomfortably in my swimmers, bent double by a combination of being captured in the folds of the stretchy material and caught under Liddy's crotch.
Unthinkingly, I put my hand down between our bodies to release it and at least let it lie in a straight line up my stomach; even if still sheathed by my speedos. But it must have been the case that Liddy's apparent slumber was no deeper than my own. In a drowsy voice, she whispered...
"I've got a more comfortable place for that."
The next thing I knew Liddy had, unsheathed me, pulled aside the gusset of her bikini pants and I found myself deeply penetrated in her. Neither of us had come to bed for sex. We don't share Amy's fetish about bikini sex. Had this been intended we would have been naked and the cabin door closed. In any case, our sexual needs had been more than seen to during the night. But still, it was a well-practiced routine and with the gentle rocking of the yacht and the seductive warmth of the morning sun, I for one fell back into satisfying, if erotic, slumber.
I stirred once when my hand complained about being trapped under Liddy's waist, repositioned it to cup her breast and enjoy the feel of her nipple jutting between two fingers, then let myself drowse off again.
It was about an hour later I was drawn out of my repose and an erotic dream by sensations that it took my waking mind a moment to process; the sucking sound of Liddy supressing the noise of her orgasm and the pummelling of my erection by her contractions.
When she saw my eyes open, she stroked my hair before bringing her mouth to mine for a passionate kiss, while she clamped her vagina tightly on my erection and started moving her hips rapidly back and forwards to thrust me in and out of her.
In what seemed at the time like as much of a wet dream in my half-awake state as an act of sex, I found my balls quickly brewing up until I instinctively rolled - basically threw - myself on top of her to pin her to the bed and get myself fully penetrated just in time for my throbbing manhood to fill her with my cum.
Puffing as much as still groaning through the last vestiges of my climax, with my face planted on the bunk next to her head, for some reason I felt compelled to say...
"Sorry."
"Why?"
"I donno. For pushing myself on top of you I suppose."
"Maybe I should be sorry for pleasuring myself on you while you were asleep. Anyway you always like to finish on top. What's new?"
I grinned into the pillow on which I was face planted. Liddy knew me well. Still, my action had seemed a little forceful to me. But she was right in that her libido seemed to be running a bit hotter than normal.
I brought my face over her; supporting myself on my elbows. Lightly kissing her cheeks, then bringing my face back to where she could see my raised eyebrows and inquisitive expression, I used my most teasing voice to ask...
"And why have you suddenly turned into a sex manic?"
"That might be a bit of an overstatement. Still, there's something a bit contagious in the air. All the naked bodies and raging libidos, Ellen's just about ready to explode with her hots for you, she and Issie have all but developed callouses from fingering themselves and Adam and Shelley walk around in a constant state of mutual arousal; and when Adam's aroused, we all know about it. Superficially you'd think Amy was the only one more under control than normal. But I suspect she's bottling up something that's going to unleash itself on you soon."
