Unexpected Threesome Ch. 48

She was quite pleased when she did finally get a response; and a fulsome one at that if you know what I mean; straightening it up in its speedo sheath so that it stood vertically up my body with a well pressed sheath of stretched spandex.

But it sort of also signalled her loss of interest in continuing the dive. It was shortly after that, as I came up for a breath that she came up in front of me, encouraged me to drop my body vertically so she could press herself seductively against me and asked...

"Are you ready to go in? Would you mind going ashore first, sitting on the towel and filming me emerging from the water?"

With the second question pre-empting the answer to the first, I willingly took the hint and agreed.

This filming thing is not in any way indicative of a sort of 'influencer narcissism' on Amy's part. As mentioned, when we were cruising the Pacific, it was Issie who first started a YouTube video blog of our trip; something that became quite popular -- and then quite profitable - because of the abundance of skimpily clad attractive women on the boat. When Issie left to go back to Italy, Amy took it over and ramped up the show quite a bit; making it a category leader and even more popular.

Essentially, Amy knows how to film and edit stuff that appeals to the male eye while still making it interesting as a travelogue and more than a bit playful to boot. The other girls are keen participants in this, but Amy's willing to push the envelope just a bit further; taking it right up to YouTube boundaries and sometimes a little beyond.

But then again, sometimes she just makes a video for private consumption. Given the transparency of her bikini, I wasn't sure where this one was going.

Amy waited until I was seated on the towel, then took a last dive towards the shallows, her head emerging and then her body standing up in what seemed to me like one effortless move. She seductively pulled off her mask and shook out her long hair, leaving thick strands of it dangling attractively down her front where they dripped water to run down her body and drew attention to the transparency of her bikini.

Her flawless olive skin all but glowed and radiated through the translucent, if not transparent material, the darker brown of her nipples, jutting forward like they'd actually penetrated the material and were poking through it, standing proud. And as for her pants? The water flowing out of her hair ran down her stomach and, captured by her hips, was redirected to run down through her crotch, along the edge of the leg seam of her bikini pants and the bulge of her mons.

Like with her breasts, the olive skin of her mons glowed through the unlined material. But down the centre of the bulge ran the wide darker stripe of her hairless crease. I well knew that crease and how it looked in a pair of bikini pants. When she's not aroused, that line is a narrow dimple. This was anything but narrow. It seemed Amy had got herself quite excited.

She wasn't the only one excited.

For once she removed her fins effortlessly while standing in perfect balance; the benefit of motivation I suppose.

It was as she started to stride confidently out of the water towards me I realised why she'd chosen the white bikini and to wear the knife. She was recreating the scene form Dr No of Ursula Andress emerging from the water in a bikini. It was like she had read my mind yesterday; although as a fan of James Bond movies (especially the Sean Connery ones), she probably didn't need to.

But Amy was making Ursula Andress look like an ugly amateur. Of course, in my youth, that scene was every young males dream, at least when I was old enough to appreciate the reruns. But as you get older, your judgement gets a bit more discerning. It's lost its appeal when I notice how she pussy footed out of the water and always seemed like she was struggling to unnaturally hold her stomach in and chest out. Plus I came to judge her as, shall we say, a bit broad in the beam for my taste; something that became more obvious as she aged.

Amy was completely natural in her confidence, stride and stance, the strength of her body and its slenderness and sheer beauty of form and face radiating from her as walked towards me; and all that was even before allowing for the difference in the bikinis they were wearing. If they remade the movie with Amy like that, they'd sell out the theatres.

To complete the scene, as she approached, she paused and drew out her knife; holding it up between us...

"Who are you?"

For an adlibbed bit of dialogue in a non-theatrical environment, she was pretty convincing. I figured I might as well play the game, even if my acting was pretty shite. I put on a deep voice...

"The names Bond. James Bond."

"Where's Ned?"

"He's safe."

"I hear you fancy yourself as a lover Mr Bond."

"Girls talk you know."

"For one so cocky, you seem to be a little bit too easily aroused. Been a while has it?"

"No, it's a natural reaction in the presence of such beauty."

"Are you suggesting you plan to take advantage of me?"

"You're the one with the knife."

Amy strode towards me, dominatingly sitting straddling my thighs as I sat there, the knife still held up. She took the camera, which I had still been filming with, from my hand, adjusted it to wide angle and set it up, still running an arm's length off to the side, facing towards us. Then she pushed me down onto my back.

She grabbed a handful of my swimmers, circling both the waistband and right side leg elastic and lifted it well clear of my body, dragging my erection into a semi projecting state as it followed the stretched material which sheathed it.

Slipping the blade under, with the edge facing up towards the material in her hand, she made as if she was going to cut it. Still 'in character' I must admit I found it a bit intimidating, if incredibly pre-cum leaking arousing as she asked...

"Do I need to cut this free?"

"I think there are other ways to free it."

She half turned the blade, turning the sharp edge off to the side, well clear of both my flesh and swimmers as she ran the cold steel of the upper edge along my upright shaft. My manhood surged in anxious excitement...

"Pity, I've always fantasied about cutting Ned out of his swimwear."

"Maybe one day when he has a spare pair with him."

She withdrew the knife and stabbed it in the sand. Pulling the waistband of my swimmers below my balls, she straddled my erection as she held it in the air, pulled aside the gusset of her bikini pants and penetrated herself with the full length of my shaft.

She gripped me tightly inside her as she rose up, slipped her hand under to hold my shaft again and pulled it just clear of her vagina. Putting it back in, she didn't penetrate herself. Instead she thrust it in a mere inch or two as she continued to hold tight both her pelvic floor muscles and her vagina, and rose up and down slightly a couple of times before pulling it out and repeating the process.

The highly targeted stimulation of the top, and most sensitive part of my erection was intense. Three time she did the mini insertion and withdrawal and then fully penetrated me again, repeating the cycle. As she gently brushed away my attempt to stimulate either her nipples or her clit, I asked...

"Do you want me to make love to you?"

"No Mr Bond, I expect you to cum."

Oh god. If that was her objective, she knew how to do it. I wondered where she'd learnt this trick.

Given how great it felt, I dearly wished I could have held out longer. But Amy detected my impending release when we were still only on our third cycle. With expert timing, I found my shaft buried in her just at the moment the first rush of seed up my shaft signalled itself with a flood of pleasure.

She sat there, passively accepting what further ropes of cum my well drained balls could gather up and fire at her and then waited until the last shudders of my orgasm had passed from my body.

When she was sure I was finished, she stood up, letting the residue of my erection flop down onto my stomach, followed by a run of my own cum. As she stood there straddling me, she offered down a hand to help me up...

"Didn't last long did you Mr Bond? Ned does better, but I'm still going to cut him out of his swimmers one day."