Unexpected Threesome Ch. 50

They were fully alongside us before someone spotted that the downmarket, beneath contempt, cruiser racer they were speeding over had a line-up of women on the rail in almost transparent clothing. Then all hell broke loose with the catcalling and invitations to join their crew (and join some other things too). Ellen was in her element, batting back every challenge with a great line in the same tone it was thrown at us; but with a lot more sass, humour and cleverness.

But going at half our speed again they were soon well past us.

Not that far behind them were a tightly bunched pair of slightly smaller race hounds; the TP 52's that Julie once raced on.

They too started to pass us close to windward, steering up from a course that would have taken them to leeward to avoid our wind-shadow and then passing as close as they could to windward of us without having our mast spear their mainsail as our boat came upright as they took our wind.

The bow-man on their boat noticed the number of females on our boat a bit earlier. It shouldn't have been that hard, given the amount of wet hair that was blowing around behind our backs.

You could see him turn to the back of the yacht and call something out as he pointed our way. And there was something in his hand action that suggested he was referring to us as something more than just a speed bump that had to be avoided.

As a result, the view they had of us in invisible pants, and the testosterone fuelled banter, started much earlier. Already warmed up, Ellen had us laughing to ourselves with many of her come-backs, with Shelley and Julie getting in the mood to try to do the same. It might have been her voice, but one of the males on board suddenly blurted out over the banter...

"Julie, is that you?"

I could see Julie focusing on the guy...

"Tim! Hi. What are you doing sailing with this bunch of reprobates?"

"It was the only gig I could get for the week. Are you still doing your naked figurehead trick at rounding marks? We could use someone like you."

"Thanks, but I'm taken. And you know me. Anything to win the race."

Other heads emerged from the amorphous mass of identically kitted up male bodies to turn around and offer Julie a personal greeting followed by a ".......it's [name]'', all too quickly for me to identify them, let along pick up the name.

As they continued to overtake us, someone in the afterguard of the leading boat shouted out to the bowman of the one right behind...

"Hey, this 4 knot shitbox has got Julie on board."

I hadn't really known the contempt that many professional sailors of these high performance boats hold cruiser racers in, with '4 knot shitbox' being more or less the standard putdown (even if our yacht was capable of much more than 4 knots).

As the next boat came alongside, it seemed like half the numerous males aboard knew Julie. It seemed like Julie was well familiar with how to deal with a rowdy mob like them, although since they continued to catcall the rest of us, Ellen still had plenty or work to do. When one of Julie's friends call out...

"Hey Julie, why don't you dump these losers and join our boat?"

"I know you Kevin. You only want me for my tits. Anyhow, I've decided it's more fun to sail with nice people than ballsack driven wankers."

"You can't deny you've got nice tits Julie. Anyhow, we're nice. You used to enjoy wielding the whip when we transferred to your dad's new yacht and you were the crew boss. Don't you remember...'whip me harder Julie...whip me harder...' Come around tonight and we'll show you just how nice we can be."

"I'd only drop in on you guys if I had a fully armed bodyguard, especially if you're on the piss."

The boats were drawing rapidly apart again, giving Kevin time for one last...

"Come and see us Julie. And bring your friends."

I have to say, to my English ears, the Aussie banter all sounds a bit brutal. But to give them their due, the men and women seem to deliver it with humour and on equal terms.

They were soon off in the distance, leaving us temporarily alone as every fourth wave washed down the deck and re-wet us. As we got closer to Hamilton Island, the waves at least diminished in the lee of the Island, even if the gustiness of the wind kept us with our weight on the sides.

The finish line was right at the entrance to the marina. By the time we got the sails down and the fenders out, it left us no time to go below and change before we were reversing into the dock under Ellen's skilful hands. Our pants were now down to merely very translucent rather than fully transparent pants. Sort of showing your bum crack but not your puckerhole level. As for the front bottom; well, you still didn't want to spread your legs very far apart, and my mons bulge with a crease that went half way up it was fully on display under the material drawn tightly across it.

With the boat's reputation proceeding it, there were a few young men from our dock standing there ready to catch our lines who were, shall we say, amply rewarded for their efforts.

None of the girls seemed too perturbed by it all; I suppose they wouldn't be on the boat if they were. But discretion was still the better part of haste, and after thanking our helpers, we ducked below to change back into our blue bikinis for the process of tidying up the boat.

We were nearly finished when a team of rowdy young males came noisily along the jetty carrying a case of beer...

"Hey Julie. Where are you Julie?"

Julie was down below, helping put away the sails we'd just tided up off the deck. She struck her head out of the companionway. When they saw her, the ring leader piped up...

"Hey Julie, can we share a beer with you guys?"

They were part of the crew of the TP52's that had overtaken us and, I'm not sure she'd call them friends, so let's just say acquaintances of Julie from her time sailing them. Julie looked to Ned and I heard him ask her under his voice...

"Do you want to have them aboard?"

Julie looked around the girls near her seeking some sign of their approval of the situation and getting a nod from them, before answering Ned...

"For a little while."

"That's fine then."

Julie looked back to the guys...

"Ok, but given how we're dressed, you have to strip to your undies."

There were some mutterings among them, until one put up his hand and cheekily asked...

"What if you're commando?"

"If your birthday suit is your undies, that's your issue. As you can see, there's no exceptions to the rule. I'd say it would give the girls a bit of a thrill, but you guys all have such small peckers, it would just cause them to be amused. Leave your clothes on the swim platform as you come aboard."

There was some tittering in the back row of the guys as a few worked out whether they had the bravado for it.

A couple of the guys -- including the one with the beers -- immediately started undressing, and stacking their clothes on top of their shoes on the dock, setting the pattern for the others. Three had speedos underneath, three ordinary underwear of some description, reinforcing mothers' warning about always having clean underwear.

Two stripped down to their deck shorts and when interrogated by Julie as they tried to come aboard, admitted they had nothing underneath and figured they'd remove the final layer after being safely ensconced in the cockpit. Julie allowed them that much, then strictly supervised them as they did, getting them to sit on their pants.

Julie had turned the table a bit on the guys. You could sort of see they'd come as predators to a yacht filled with scantily dressed stunning attractive women. Now she'd turned them into the prey. Given Julie was the only one among us unattached, they weren't actually going to get eaten. But she was certainly going to make them feel as objectified as the girls. And while I don't think any of us objected too much to being objectified -- it would be pretty hypocritical if we did, given the attention seeking way we dress -- it was only fair it worked both ways.

And if any of them thought they'd be impressing us with the bulge in their pants, or what was dangling in the open in two cases, you should have seen their jaw drop as they were introduced to Adam with a flaccid cock that lay all the way across to the side seam of his speedos and then still stuck out the side.

It was pretty crowded sitting around the cockpit as we passed around the beers. As in hips and thighs pressed very closely together with your neighbours crowded. And given what we were wearing, that usually meant bare flesh against bare flesh.

You could tell that the initial bravado of the naked guys was wearing pretty thin. They were sitting with a demur gap between them up the front of the cockpit. I knew Ellen was up to no good when, with a stolen wink at her husband, she went and claimed the space between them, wiggling and wedging her very cute arse into tiny space and forcing the one not pushed up against the bulkhead at the end of the cockpit into very intimate contact with Shelley.

They were only in their mid-twenties and - let's say -- highly vulnerable to reacting to Ellen's deliberate animation as she sat there bantering with those across from her. With nothing but the string waistband of her bikini pants breaking the shoulder to knee skin contact, both of them were quickly growing boners; half mongrels at first which they tried to hide behind their beer cans and a bent over torso.

As a group, they weren't bad lookers. In their mid to late twenties, they had pretty good bodies, as they'd needed to have to be useful aboard the sort of boat they were sailing. And some of them had pretty attractive faces too, in that square jawed, bodice ripper sense. They were well capable of being objectified, in a stand offish sort of way really.

They were certainly cocky; even if having to strip off and then be introduced to Adam had taken some of the wind from their sails. But on the whole, not stupid and, once brought down a peg by Julie's demand they join us on equal terms, not bad company.

I had one either side of me. I'm told I look a decade younger than my 31 years. They obviously thought so, because even though they can't have been much past their mid-twenties, they were making a determined effort to chat me up; and maybe to bed me. Let's face it, with their testosterone driven ego, definitely to bed me

I could see Ellen keeping an eye on me, least I needed rescuing, and Ned keeping an even more subtle eye on me for the same reason, but I actually felt quite comfortable. I won't say I didn't enjoy the close press of the bare flesh of two reasonably handsome males, nor the flattery inherent in their determination to garner my favours; even if some carnal purposes lay behind their attentions to me. I might have even felt a bit aroused by them.

If they were being prick teased (and Ned strongly objects to even that concept, feeling a woman can dress and flirt how she wants without being accused of that), it was of their own doing and optimism.

With Shelley clearly matched with Adam and Ellen's and Harry's pairing also being obvious, they'd obviously picked me as unattached; not thinking for a moment Ned and I might be a pair (or a trio with Liddy for that matter, a fact I'm sure would have exploded their brains had they known it).

So they were nothing if not persistent, even when I indicated I had a partner. But being among friends, I could deal with them, even flirt with them, knowing it was safe to do so; amusing myself with their inability to focus on my much more than my breasts in their teasingly tiny, nipple highlighting, bikini top. I was equally amused by the partial arousal visible in their pants, which grew as they gained an entertainingly false confidence in their ability to seduce me.

Speaking of arousal and erections, with an occasional wink back to her husband, Ellen had been unrelenting in her conversational animation and brought the guy between her and Shelley to a full erection. It was one he was clearly uncomfortable with, more so as Ellen bent around the guy to talk to Shelley, filling his field of vision with her tits and removing any delusion he might have had that his bent over stance and the protective beer can might have hidden it from view.

The delusion was broken even further when Ellen bent in to pick up another beer and handed it to the guy, suggesting...

"I think you might need this. Try a direct application of the ice cold can to it. It might help with the swelling."

The guy turned beetroot red. He probably would have got teased by his mates more had any of them really been in a condition to do so. But in a 'he without sin cast the first stone' sense, none of them seemed to think it prudent to raise the topic of erections.

It was actually a very pleasant hour we spent sitting around the cockpit with them. I could see that Julie had quite a history with them and yet they all seemed to regard her as somewhat unattainable; probably hoping there were some easier lays among the bevy of her women crewmates. But that wasn't to say they weren't willing to try.

We actually agreed to meet them down at the entertainment area later in the evening.

But Ned finally called time on it, announcing we had to go and get ready for dinner, letting them disembark the yacht with as much -- or little -- dignity as Julie's rule would allow them.

When we got back to the apartment, it was a case of a pile in for a quick round of showers. With Ned, Liddy and I occupying the master bedroom and its on-suite bathroom, I was granted the privilege of first shower of the three of us.

I just prepared myself, got the water to run hot, and stepped under the water still in my bikini when the door opened.

Yes, I know, it might sound like another aspect of my bikini fetish. Maybe it is. But in this case it was part of a long habit first developed as we were cruising on the yacht, of getting under the shower still dressed in it, rinsing it and even soaping it as a quick way of cleaning it in preparation for the next day, then taking it off to continue my shower.

Liddy stuck her head in the door...

"Mind if we join you?"

"Sure."

She entered the room, dragging Ned by the hand. Like me, both she and Ned were still in their swimmers. It was what we had all been sitting around the apartment in since we'd got back from the yacht.

She came straight to the shower screen, opened it, pushed Ned in and followed in herself, pulling the ties on her bikini top and removing it as she entered.

I stroked my hand down Ned's chest. He already had a full erection, partly anticipation from Liddy's leading of him away to be fucked, partly from her habit of tickling up his balls with her other hand held behind her back as she leads him like that. The run of my hand terminated where it wrapped itself around Ned's still sheathed erection and jerked it gently up and down...

"Fancy a bit of a threesome do you?"

"It seems I'm not the only one."

There are unwritten rules to this game that all of us understand. One is that the two girls take turns at the cum shot. That in turn determines the order of primary attention from Ned; the cum shot taker goes last. In this case it was Liddy's turn for Ned to cum into, so Ned knew it was me he was first satisfying; even if some would argue that last word was an oxymoron where I was concerned.

He pushed me gently back against the wall, using a hand to collect in Liddy and bring her to the wall close alongside me. Pushing his whole body softly into full length contact with me, he reached behind my back to pull the strings on my bikini top, then slid down my body until her was kneeling at my feet; his face against my mons where he started kissing it.

Putting a finger under each side of the string side of my pants, he pulled them down and off my feet, coming back to kiss my now naked mons and sticking his tongue into my crease and wiggling it playfully about.

Looking up with loving eyes, he said...

"I'll be back in a sec..."

Then moved, with a single knee step sideways, across to Liddy repeating the mons kissing a depanting of her. As he knelt there, he unsheathed his erection and pulled his own pants down and off himself.

Standing back up, Ned positioned himself centred between us, cupping each of our inside breasts, teasing up the nipple and then siding his hand down our torsos and into our creases where he quickly found my already swollen clit.

Instinctively each of Liddy and I wrapped our inside hand around Ned's shaft, gently jerking it in unison as I also brought my other hand around onto his butt to pull that part of his body near me into as close a contact as I could. All the while, Ned alternatively sucked on each of our necks, stopping for a quick kiss before moving across to the other.

Ned's basic problem in having a threesome with Liddy and myself is that he can bring me to a climax ridiculously quickly, whereas Liddy's path to orgasm is a more conventional one. So his mere fingering of me like that had me moaning in pleasure and squirming under his hand while Liddy was still getting warmed up.

Because of that Ned feels he has to put more effort into Liddy, but then feels guilty that he's neglecting me, however much I tell him that I understand what he's doing.

In this case that extra attention was bending down and sucking her nipple; something I don't doubt he enjoys given how large, proud and erect her breasts are.

It might have looked to an outsider like I was getting scant attention from Ned, but he was rolling my clit lightly between two fingers in a way he knew just drove me crazy with arousal and stroking it gently as he did so. I might have only had his half turned hip to hold against my body but I was moaning like someone possessed as he drove me towards a climax.

And cum I did; going weak kneed and swinging my hips around with Ned's hand held firmly into my crotch as my previous moans turned into a prolonged hissing groan; relatively quietly by my standards, but still no doubt heard by those in the living room, even with two closed doors between us.

But it signalled a change of action to Ned. After all, if Liddy was taking the cum shot, I was meant to be first. It was just Ned knew Liddy had to be well warmed up.

Ned moved back to me, trying to make light of it with a...

"Are you ready for the real thing?"

"I've been ready since you pulled it out of me this morning."

Ned let me get away with that; ignoring the fact it was me who dismounted him.

Dipping his knees, he brought his erection between my legs and into my crease; surging it through it until he sensed the void only too anxious to receive it. As the bell of his shaft first plugged the opening I hummed in the pleasure of that first step of penetration.

I groaned more loudly in pleasure as he pushed it in, touching up and activating the physical and emotional sensors that's Ned's penetration of me always bring to the fore. I can't explain why I've been blessed to be in that minority of women who truly can get off and have orgasms on vaginal penetration and vaginal sex alone -- without resorting to g spot and other tricks. But I'm not complaining, any more than I am about being one who can have nipple orgasms.

Mind you, all that might change if I was ever one to push out and breast feed a baby.

But immediately my body was physically excited by his mere presence in me. Stimulated and aroused; not just waiting for some action to happen but responding more like it already was.

Ned knows my body; knows what I respond to. In a threesome that's important. He knows how much attention he needs to pay to me to get the result he wants, and therefor how much attention he can share with Liddy.

He knew his slow thrusting of me, the gentle withdrawal and deep repenetration of my body with his magical erection, was enough in itself to give me an orgasm. The hand he had on my breast playing with my nipple would be the icing on the cake.