Unexpected Threesome Ch. 48

Our thongs (flip flops to non-Australians), and the small nylon haversack I'd swam ashore from the yacht with them in, were now stranded by the rising tide on a rock no longer easily accessible by walking along the beach; the path being blocked by dense bush and mangroves.

We both expressed our willingness to swim across the bay to get them; but Amy was more insistent. So I let her, being content to stand on the beach and watch in admiration her smooth, powerful swimming style as she quickly crossed the bay to the rock. Once there, she packed the thongs in the bag, put it on her back, and swam back towards me.

Watching her stand and emerge from the water towards me made watching any equivalent scene in a James Bond movie look pathetically second rate by comparison.

The swim had toned up her muscles, enhancing the effect of what was already a slim, sculptured, ramrod straight body. Of course the tiny bikini, the water cascading out of her long sun bleached hair, the sexualised bulge of her mound and her somewhat oversized -- for her slim body -- breasts, capped with nipples on high beam, made the sight even more compelling.

All she needed was a knife stuck in the waistband of her bikini bottoms to complete the image and surpass all other attempts at creating it. I regretted not having a camera.

While the sight certainly induced some sensation in my manhood, it was way too early for me to show any significant signs of physical arousal. I'm told Adam can get it back up in a matter of minutes. My refractory period is measured in hours.

But there was more than a sexual reaction to the sight. There was a deeply felt pride in the confidence of the beautiful woman walking towards me. She knew my eyes were transfixed on her. She met them with her own as she walked towards me. She knew -- for want of a better way of putting it -- she was being sexually judged or at the least, lusted over. Rather than shrink from view, her response was to project the most sexualised version of herself that she could.

That itself is more than most women can, or at least are willing, to do. But maybe to some it won't sound so special.

What makes it special in Amy's case is that she spent ten years as the victim of a highly abusive relationship. She was subject to physical abuse and rape as a matter of everyday experience. But just as importantly, she was subject to constant mental torture; isolated from other meaningful human company and indoctrinated with the thought she was ugly and repulsive to others.

Simply to plan and execute an escape from the relationship, where discovery very likely would have meant death, was an achievement in itself. To emerge from it, not just without some form of PTSD, but with a rebuilt confidence, is incredible.

Yes, it's possible her hyper-sexuality is some sort of side effect of what she went through; a cross between an up-yours to her former partner and the equivalent (as Liddy put it) of the effervesce being released from a shaken up soda bottle (although years on there would be no evidence of that effervesce subsiding).

And she herself acknowledges part of her staying with me is embracing the love she's given with a background fear of making another wrong choice if she dips her toes back in the relationship ocean.

But still, the transformation of a beaten down zeta woman into the alpha female walking towards me was a miracle to behold; one largely due to her strength of character however much she credits me with the result.

As she came up to me, she teasingly asked...

"What are you staring at?"

"You."

Cupping my balls in their speedo sack with her wet hand, she challenged...

"I'm not getting any reaction. Do you think I'm ugly?"

"No, I think a beautiful woman just drained my balls and I'm too old for a quick recovery."

She grinned...

"Good answer. Nice to see you've still got your mental faculties anyway."

For entirely selfish reasons, I slipped the haversack off her back. The thongs could have been extracted without doing so, but I didn't want the perfection of her body spoiled by the cheap rag of a nylon bag as I enjoyed the experience of walking alongside her on the way back. Better that I wear it.

We walked back up through the bush to the walking path leading to the lookout. From there, about half way down to the beach, we came across what I took to be the lead wave of the day trippers out from Airlie Beach heading up to the lookout.

The strange looks they gave us were not unexpected. An older guy dressed in nothing but a pair of speedos and a younger stunningly attractive woman in a tiny wet bikini, walking with their hands intimately locked together on a bush walking track is not the norm in so many ways.

But we simply greeted them with a 'hello' and walked on past.

As we walked back along the beach to the yacht, we were fortunate that Ellen saw us and brought the inflatable boat ashore to take us back. The tide had come in a long way. We could have swam out, but it was now far enough that the ever present fear of a shark became more of a reality.

As we got back to the yacht, Shelley and Adam were swimming off the back of the yacht while Issie and Liddy were below, starting to set out an early lunch.

Seeing Adam swimming there sort of reminded me to ask Ellen...

"Did you wake up before Adam when you were all sunning yourself this morning?"

"If you're really asking whether I got to stare at his exposed erection as he slept, yes."

"Did you tell him?

"Hell no. Not when I could lie there with a hat half over my face staring at it while I pretended to be asleep."

"What happened when he woke up?"

"Shelley woke him. I think she thought she could quietly coax it back to flaccid if she gently woke him; hiding it with her body while she waited. But with her bare breasts hanging over him, that was never going to happen. He sort of startled awake, realised how exposed he was and dove straight over the side. But it made things worse. Because his erection was tenting out his speedos, they caught the water on the dive and he was stripped right out of them. That left him duck diving with his bare butt, trying to find them."

"Shelley and I finally took pity on him. From above, we could see where they were, so we dove in to get them for him; although I did tease him a bit as he struggled naked and aroused in the water trying to get them back on."

"Are we talking physically tease or verbally tease?"

"What'a you think?"

"If not an outright grope, I'm sure there was some physical contact."

"Ah Ned. You're a man of little faith if reasonably good judgement. I had his swimmers in my hand and knew it would be hard for him -- well actually I suppose it was hard for everyone if you want to make a pun of it -- but it would be hard for him to put them on in the water. So I insisted I help by holding them open and as deeply in the water as I could while he slipped into them. And then I tried to tuck it back in for him, but it wouldn't bend."

"Hang on. I have this mental picture of you duck diving or dipping down to bring them to his feet. If your hands are at the level of his feet, that puts your face pretty well at the level of his crotch. And then you mean you physically grabbed it and tried to bend it down?"

"Something like what happened. But, you know, as you're being buffeted about in the water, all sorts of contact is going to occur, so by the time I actually had to grab it we'd already got to be pretty good friends if I can put it like that..."

Ellen nudged Amy as she added...

"You would believe how thick and stiff that thing is."

"And Adam's reaction to this was?"

"He rolled his eyes as he always does and asked if he should get a grope of my breasts in return."

"And you said?"

"That I'm a proper married woman and it wouldn't be appropriate."

We'd reached the back of the yacht, so I held it alongside while Amy and Ellen got out before tying it up to the transom.

Lunch had been planned early because we had a busy afternoon. We were going to be polishing the underwater part of the yacht in readiness for the racing.

I planned it for the afternoon because we didn't have wetsuits aboard and I wanted some time for the day to heat up first. We'd been a bit lucky in the little bay that Amy and I had made out in this morning. The light onshore breeze there had driven the warmed surface water into the deeply indented bay. Here the situation was the opposite. An offshore breeze was blowing, meaning the water was a bit cooler than it might otherwise have been.

We divided in two teams; the idea being we'd take it in turns so that no one got too cold. And the other team could go shark guard least we attracted any unwanted attention.

What we did have was a single scuba tank; brought along specifically for the purpose of letting someone go down and scrub the keel and other deeper parts of the boat. As the most experienced divers apart from myself, Amy and Issie volunteered for the scuba duties. For the rest there was a collection of fins and facemasks.

Amy, Liddy, Ellen and myself formed the first team, starting at the bow -- or the front of the keel in the case of Amy on scuba - as we gently polished any slime off the boat with a combination of cloths and brushes.

Amy took first turn on the scuba, leaving Liddy, Ellen and myself to deal with the waterline and duck dive to scrub as deeply as we could manage. When Ellen had more or less appointed herself to be in the team I was in, it wasn't hard to guess the same buffeting effect of the water was going to cause her to spend a lot of time bumping into me and in that I wasn't wrong.

It was amazing how she managed to pull off -- maybe a bad choice of expressions -- so many intimate contacts which such apparent innocence and inadvertence. For her it was a game; one that both I, and Liddy and Amy as my partners, could accept; knowing Ellen as we did. Already sensitised just from swimming in the water with three stunning women in tiny bikinis, it didn't take too many brushes from Ellen to get a reaction from my manhood and if that was her intention -- which it certainly was - she succeeded.

If my description of Ellen's behaviour conveys the same eye rolling tone as Adam applies to the women who want to touch him up, I'm not doing either her or our relationship justice. It's a defensive approach on my part.

There is and always has been some sort of 'thing' between Ellen and me. It's two ways. We've decided to call it a hormonal bond, because we each are deeply affected sexually by the other's mere presence. Add to that an intellectual joining of the minds, and some pretty powerful forces are at work.

In a different world and in different circumstances, Ellen could easily have been my life partner. Had we bumped into each other at Uni during our youths, the result would have almost have been inevitable. Of course, part of that different world would have necessitated closing the more than 30 year gap in our ages. In our real world, her desire for a family made the gap not just impossible, but imprudent to bridge.

How can I say that about Ellen and not Amy, or Liddy for that matter?

Quite simply, had I met Amy at Uni in similar circumstances, I would have thought of her as being out of my league.

That's not to dis Ellen in the slightest. She might best be thought of as a Nordic supermodel. Tall, slender, shapely within the parameters of her slim body, with long blonde hair and lovely alabaster skin. Her face is beautiful in a finely sculptured way; her breasts tidy, eye catching 'B' cups that balance her figure nicely. But because we have an instant intellectual connection -- we seem to think the same way - I could well see myself as overcoming any reticence her beauty might have generated in me.

Liddy, in her youth, was a practicing orthodox Jew. I had a couple of good Jewish friends at Uni. There's nothing wrong with that. But there's no way her religion would have let her form a relationship with me, however much we might have otherwise bonded. It took a lifetime of experiences to change that circumstances.

Amy's beauty on the other hand is far more inapproachable. There's something more overtly sexual about it that makes it intimidating for all but the most confident of males -- and in my youth I wasn't that. Yes, her bigger, shapely breasts and swollen mound and even her flawless Mediterranean olive skin are part of that. But it's more to it than that, way more, some of which I can't even put my finger on. Even the soft rounded beauty of her face and the warmth of her smile makes you feel - without that being her intention - you're not good enough for her.

And because she's kind and gentle, but takes a while to show the confidence in conversation that Ellen has, breaking the ice with her in my youth would never have been possible. The sad thing is that it did her no good and in fact may have hurt her. She was completely oblivious to her own charms and in her innocence simply fell prey to an abusive predator who took away a decade of her life when she deserved much better.

But that 'thing' between Ellen and myself means I'm easily aroused by her presence, and quickly so if she physically flirts with me. That erection she induced as she repeatedly brushed her butt against my manhood in the buffeting waves as we cleaned the boat wasn't just a slightly embarrassing display of a lack of manly control. It was hard and surging and dearly wishing I could turn her around and fuck her passionately.

But I couldn't and I wouldn't and nor would she let me if I wasn't as inhibited about that red line as she was. That was the deal -- which didn't even need to be outwardly expressed -- with all our partners.

Ellen had been my partner in sex long before Liddy or Harry came along. Amy, together with Issie, was the one who invited her to join them in our polygamous arrangements in my bunk on the yacht as we cruised the Pacific. She was still my lover when Harry came along and even when they started tentatively dating. Of course there came a time that was no longer appropriate.

But Harry knew the history and knew the future deal. Absolute faithfulness, but open go on the flirtation. All of which is fine when Amy, Liddy and Harry are all spectators. What was different on this trip was Harry absence and Ellen's extreme sexual frustration, making it all just a little bit more challenging all round.

Still, for all the distractions, we made good progress. After about 20 minutes, we got out and sunned ourselves while the other team took over.

When it was time for our team to go into the water again, I took the scuba gear for the deeper parts of the boat.

Amy had already done a pretty good job on the keel, so I could start working on the lower parts of the main hull which the others might be able to reach, but it was easier for me to do. I'd only just started when I felt someone tug at my buddy regulator (the extra regulator attached to scuba equipment for emergency use by another person).

As I turned to see what was happening, I found Amy with the regulator in her mouth and in the process of bringing herself around to come face to face with me, our bodies soon joined together in full frontal contact; or at least as much as the scuba harness would allow.

Holding me around my waist with one arm, she used the palm of the other to cup my balls as she let her breasts fill the field of vision I had through my mask.

There was no mystery as to what Amy was here for. Water and bikini sex has always been among Amy's fetishes. And that has certainly in the past included scuba sex; just usually not with others swimming all around you and generally not just after she's had a morning of sex with more orgasms than I could possibly count.

Still, these days her opportunity for scuba sex is next to non-existent and I figured this could also well be Amy's response to Ellen's earlier flirtations.

As she felt my manhood respond, she guided it until it sat vertically inside the sheath of my speedos, then used two fingers to smooth out the sheath around it and give it stimulation. Satisfied she had a full erection, she brought her crotch over the top of it, grinding the gusset of her bikini pants -- and no doubt the swollen clit that lay within it - on the tip of the bell, using the arm still around my waist, and the other hand now on my hip, to hold her in place as she rocked back and forwards. All while leaving me, with gentle strokes of my fins, to leave us suspended stationary in the water just by the keel.

With face masks and regulators crowding our faces, there was no chance of any intimate facial contact. So instead she brought the glass of her face mask flat against mine, leaving us both staring momentarily into the other's eyes.

The smile that no doubt was being wrapped around her regulator initially reflected itself in the bright beam of her gorgeous eyes. But as she started to become more aroused, they drifted somewhat, as if rolling back into the top of her eye socket.

I'd responded initially by wrapping my arms around her waist to help hold us together. With the hand previously on my hip, she moved my hand up to cup her breast. Finding a hardened nipple quickly projecting between my fingers, I hardened it further as I stimulated it by rocking my fingers against it.

It was clear Amy was doing a good job of stimulating herself. The slow deliberate rocking of her body on the tip of my erection shortly became a fast, short stroked, almost frantic quivering. The quivering on the tip barely stopped as she reached down under her thigh, momentarily lifted herself off me, unsheathed my erection by pulling the waistband of my swimmers under my balls and then relocated the tip of my now exposed erection to the place in the gusset of her pants where it was clearly doing the most good.

It was shortly after that her hand again went under her thigh, grabbed my erection, used the tip to push aside the gusset of her pants and shoved it quickly into her vagina. After slowly fully penetrating herself, she gripped my erection tightly inside her and ground herself hard against me.

Within moments, the reverberations of indistinct bubbly groans in my ears, streams of bubbles escaping from her regulator and the pummelling of my manhood told me she was powerfully climaxing.

As her climax continued she face planted her face mask back flat against mine staring at me as her contractions on my erection and the excessive stream of forced bubbles that were intermittently ejected from her regulator told me it wasn't yet finished.

Not for the first time that day I was reminded of a James Bond film moment; although felt we did it more authentically and without the protection of a rock.

Once her climax seemed to be finished, Amy leaned back to open up a gap between our upper bodies, used her eyes and a hand on the back of my head to tell me to stare down at her breasts and then again clamped my erection tightly and jerked up and down; producing not so much an in and out movement as a tugging at my erection. It would seem Ellen's warning about the incompressibility of water in the context of thrusting during underwater sex hadn't been forgotten.

I was more than a little amused by her instruction to stare at her breasts; more so when she actually pulled aside the triangle covering on her right breast to fully expose it. She knows me perhaps a bit too well as to how to set me off.

Still, if she was expecting a quick release from me she didn't get it.

Bringing her eyes back into my field of vision, she gave me a couple of exaggerated flashes of raised eyebrows before unpenetrating herself with a quick upward movement of her body relative to mine, then started to sink down. Naively, I wasn't sure what her intentions were until she grasped my exposed manhood in her hand, pulled the regulator out of her mouth with the other and took my manhood into her mouth.