Unexpected Threesome Ch. 51

As we started dancing, Ned asked...

"Did you enjoy that? I mean being in the arms of another man?"

There was no challenge in the tone of his voice. He could just as much being asking about the weather...

"It was OK. But I couldn't wait to get back to dancing with you. What were the words of that song the dance studio used to play [I put up a corny attempt to sing the words]...

'You can dance ev'ry dance with the guy who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight

...

But don't forget who's taking you home and in whose arms you're gonna be'

And that Ned is you. I'll save the last dance for you."

"Well, don't forget you're allowed to do otherwise."

"Anyone would think you're keen to get rid of me."

"No, we've had this conversation before. I do want you to have the best life you can have."

"Ned, compared to my previous existence, I am. With you. But I might need a good fuck when we get home. That last dance I'm saving for you might be a horizontal folk dance."

Ned was well aware he had to look after both Liddy and myself, so had to carefully calibrate how much time he spent with each of us. And I well understood that, since Liddy didn't have a swarm of young men all over her looking for dance opportunities, he maybe had to give her a bit more time. And all that was before Ned had to deal with the fact that Issie needed somebody to dance with to show off her moves and Ellen was desperate to use dancing as an excuse to drape her body all over him.

So soon enough I found myself back on the sidelines, but far from alone. The first guy I had been dancing with was just making a move towards me when one of his somewhat taller mates asked me for a dance. Figuring that would make it less likely I'd have a pulsing bulge between my legs, I happily accepted.

As I danced with him, I figured he was probably a bit older than the other guy, maybe a bit more mature, but no less randy or able to focus on anything above my cleavage. I noticed he'd stand back as he tried to get me turn, looking down to see if he could get a better view of my panties as my dress flew out. And by brushing against my nipples, having got them jutting again, once, as he threw me into a turn, his finger hooked on the neck tie of my dress, uncovering a nipple in a way I don't think was entirely accidental to give him a good look at what lay below.

As a male I might have been a bit more drawn to him. I liked his slim height and like all the guys from the boat, he had a muscular build with, in his case, great guns. He also seemed a bit more mature, the boob uncovering notwithstanding.

As the music slowed, he too pulled me in close and did that hand on the butt thing men seem desperate to do. But he didn't push his hips and cock against me like the earlier guy. He was clearly a boob man; his chest pushed firmly into my boobs, his shirt slowly walking the triangle covering them off to the side. At least until I stopped and centred them again. Three times.

Through all of this I happily played the innocent; as if I never suspected him of carnal intent; treating them more as 'oopps' moments, rather than 'how dare you' ones. I admit, I was basking in the male attention and quite willing to offer up some tit bits (pun intended) of sexual exploitation by them in return.

As the night moved on, Ned was getting increasingly hard to get a dance with.

With a few drinks under her and the knowledge Harry would be scooped up for a dance by any of me, Issie or Liddy, Ellen was getting increasingly frisky with him; making some of the guys attempts to get a bulge between my legs look amateurish by comparison as she held him close whenever the music offered an opportunity and I sure was basically pleasuring herself on whatever projection she could induce in Ned. And given Ned's attraction to her, I'm sure a projection was easily induced.

Plus I saw her move Ned's hand under her skirt onto her bare butt; getting him to do the very thing that she'd batted every other male away from.

Issie was desperate to show off her moves with the best partner she could find, which was Ned and of course Liddy wanted as much time on the dance floor as she could get. It was interesting watching Liddy get hit on by young males in the pale light and asked for a dance. She is a stunner -- especially as she was dressed -- and nothing in her profile or manner of dress disclosed she's a woman in her 50's, not her 20's. And indeed, in the low light, even her skin didn't give her away. So a young guy would get her out to dance and it would slowly dawn on him he was dancing with someone old enough to be his mother and then have to decide whether the impressive breast and body display he had right under his nose compensated for any feeling of inappropriateness he felt in dancing with her. At least half the time he was in no hurry to return her to the sidelines.

But as our dancing attracted a bit of attention, it was more than the former Screw Girls who were wanting a bit of Ned.

Julie managed to cast off the TP52 guys who were fawning all over her long enough to ask for a couple of dances with him and while she certainly had a good go at letting Ned lead her into some visually impressive dance moves, she also took her opportunities to pull him in intimately close for some very cosy dances.

And then completely random young, and sometimes not so young, women, having noticed how Ned made every women he danced with look absolutely fantastic on the dance floor were hitting on him for dances too.

All of which left me being chased by Julie's TP52 guys who, as the night wore on and the alcohol had its effect on them -- and just a little on me -- got increasingly frisky and bold in their approach to me.

I could see Ned keeping an eye on me, making sure I was happy; a raised eyebrow asking from across the open space between us whether he was being sufficiently dutiful in his attention to me. Once, having felt it was time I danced with him again, I pointed a finger at him and then at me; letting him know I wanted him back on the next rotation.

Instead he immediately escorted Julie back to the sidelines, excused himself and walked over to where I was dancing and like someone out of a 1950's movie asked...

"I wonder if I can cut in please. It's time this beautiful woman get the attention she deserves from me."

The guy I was dancing with was flummoxed, momentarily stunned and not knowing how to react but at least recognising Ned as the owner of the yacht he was sitting on earlier in the day and not a random stranger. A bit worried he might arc up, I took the lead, turning to Ned and replying with a big cheesy smile, "I'd love to" while telling the other guy I'd catch him again later.

It would be fair to say we all were having a good night. It might have been better for some of the girls if Ned could have been somehow cloned so he could be spread about more generously, but there were more than enough males seeking our attention that we never lacked it.

Increasingly the guys off the TP52 became emboldened, especially with me. I had their thighs pushed between my legs, their hips screwing around against mine and their hands all over me like a rapidly spreading rash. My panties and nipples were exposed by some movement of their body against mine more often than I could count and with increasingly less subtly.

I doubt they'd ever seen the movie, but increasingly their dancing with me more took the form of the sexualised staff dancing in the movie Dirty Dancing, than the more elegant final scenes. One or two were even brave enough to run their hands down my body and across my breast. And one got over excited and I'm pretty sure came in his pants.

The thing was, I wasn't really setting limits and those that had been set earlier in the night were gradually relaxed. There were hands up under the back of my dress and on my bare butt by the time the night was over.

It wasn't because I was too drunk to enforce them. Nor was it the case there were no limits. There were definitely still limits. It was just that those I still had weren't often pushed even by this cocky lot.

It was calculated by me to let them push the limits of physical intimacy because in a way, I was using them.

I was testing my physical and emotional reaction to being so close to a range of attractive young men in a way I had never in my life been able to before. I was testing whether I would indeed be better off with a more age appropriate partner, just as Ned wanted me to.

I won't say I didn't enjoy all the attention. I won't even deny enjoying the physical closeness and getting aroused by it. I even thought I could quite enjoy a week of this. But never once did I think..."Yep, I could go to bed with you." Not even close.

Of course, a little bit of that was having no real idea of their personalities. In the back of my mind they were all cock sure of themselves to an extent I didn't find attractive. But I also recognised that was a first impression that couldn't entirely be relied upon. Still, in this case it was a matter of guilty until proven innocent. I've learnt the hard way that behind a tight well-built body and a charming countenance can lie a violent control freak. It wasn't a mistake I was going to make a second time.

There was another area in which my curiosity was piqued. With Frank I never once reached a climax. Frankly, I never even came close (a double pun); barely getting aroused enough to lubricate his rough sex.

With Ned, I'm an orgasm slut. He has to do little more than snap his fingers for me to be wetting my panties with my juices and rolling around in a continuous state of orgasmic bliss. I admit, I'm a complete outlier in my sexual response.

The contrast is so extreme and unreal, I can't help but wonder what I'd be like with another man. Ned himself says there's nothing special in what he does. It's my body and my mind that generates the sensitivity to react the way it does and I think that's right, although the fact he cares about the outcome and at least takes the time to focus on what turns me on and trigger those areas is central to his success. What I still don't know is whether it is mainly my body or mainly my mind.

Will an even half thoughtful young guy be able to set my body off like Ned does or is it more a function of the love and respect I have for him. Yes, strictly speaking I have permission to explore that area with a sleepover. But the thought leaves me cold, even if the question drives me crazy.

All I could say as the night started to draw to a close was that I was physically responding to the contact I had with all the young guys, but nowhere near responding in the way I would to Ned with the same sort of contact. Ned has given me an orgasm on the dance floor with the same sort of stuff I was letting them get away with. I didn't even come close to that with them, nipple stimulation not withstanding and even if one of them did seem to wet his pants with his cum dancing with me.

At the same time, several of the guys had a go at persuading me to go back to their place and it was clear they didn't mean for some pleasant conversation. I declined as politely as I could, repeating the mantra that I already had a partner.

Two of them accepted that, with an expression of 'see you tomorrow', and definitely a hint they'd start the chase all over again. The third, admittedly very drunk, called me a prick teasing slut (something of an oxymoron really). That was, given what I used to get from Frank, water off a duck's back to me. But it marked the end of my willingness to deal with him. To me that was an enormous red flag of Frank like tendencies.

I saw Julie disappear with two of the TP guys; one on either hand.

And eventually Ned caught up with me...

"Liddy and I are heading back to the unit. You're welcome to stay if you want."

"No I'm definitely coming too."

I did a quick round of goodbyes, even giving some of the guys I'd danced with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but very happily took Ned's hand and, with Liddy holding his other hand, walked home with him.

It was past our bedtime, so almost as soon as we were home it was a case of stripping naked and the three of us climbing into bed; Ned between Liddy and myself.

There's a routine that happens every night as we go to bed.

Ned rolls towards each of us in turn, to give us a very intimate and slightly extended, goodnight kiss, intimate cuddle and stroking and some sweet nothing talk.

There's a certain amount of arousal necessarily caused by that. Ned's is physically on display, mine is very reasonably taken for granted by the others and I know from talking to her that Liddy also gets turned on by it. If one of us is looking for some evening sex, now is the time it is claimed. But it's not taken for granted that anything will happen.

To give both Liddy and myself private time with Ned, most sex occurs during the day or in the morning.

But I hadn't been kidding when I'd said to Ned earlier in the evening that I might have a final dance of horizontal folk dancing. And we'd both been dancing up a storm for several hours. Our bodies were a later of sweat. We probably should have had another shower before lying on the bed, but like it had been this morning, the smell of Ned's still fresh sweating body was rocket fuel to my libido.

Probably sensing I might need servicing -- so to speak -- he'd kissed Liddy goodnight first, and taken his time about it.

So he had a half erection already as he turned to me.

Dancing with all those men had left me randy. I might have been prick teasing them, but I was being clit teased in return. Ned might have sent me into spirals of climaxes twice already today, but the evening's activities and Ned's sweaty body had stirred me up again.

As Ned snuggled into my body, intertwined his limbs with mine and wrapped his arms around me as he usually would, I reciprocated, but made sure my hand went down onto his butt where I rubbed its firm flesh. That has, by osmosis, become a sort of signal understood by both of us that I'm likely to be looking for sex.

But that doesn't mean Ned just rolls me on my back and pound's me; even if some 'go the animal' sex might have been a cure for what ailed me that evening.

He stroked my hair as he gently asked...

"Did you have a good evening?"

"I had a great one."

"Good. Anyone you took a fancy to?"

"Only you."

I let that settle for a moment. But I'm a talker. I like sharing my feelings and I like doing that with Ned more than anyone else. I trust him and time after time he has shown that whatever my feelings are he will respond appropriately to what I say...

"Ned. I realised tonight that the amount of even innocent physical interaction I'd had with guys my age until tonight was basically zilch. Apart from Frank of course and that was hardly a positive advertisement for young males. I really enjoyed my body being pressed against them and I hope to do a lot more of that before the week's over. But there's a clear line in my mind between physical contact, even one that causes me to become aroused, and actual sex. I know my demands are a heavy burden to you, but my sexual desires always come back to you."

"Amy, it was a delight seeing you enjoy yourself tonight. I could see were letting them get away with quite a lot of stuff other girls might not and fully understood why that was. You know I will never stand between you and something that will help you decide what you really want for your life. You can be assured I was not feeling jealous and was enormously proud of how you dealt with them. Of course, I wouldn't be human or in love with you as much as I am if I didn't feel a touch of anxiety about losing you, but as I've said so many times, I couldn't really say I love you if I didn't, at the deepest level, want the absolute best for you; whatever the cost to me."

He paused and then, as if suddenly remembering my final comment, added...

"And by the way, you're not a burden to me. I've never known anyone as joyous and full of life as you. Meeting your sexual needs is a privilege, not a burden."

Even as we'd been talking, Ned's partial erection had swelled to the full blown thing. Caught between my legs as we rolled together, it had speared into my crease as it hardened and surged through it to home in on the void anxiously waiting to be filled by it. Our bodies had melded effortlessly together on full penetration by the time he'd asked me whether I'd taken a fancy to anyone.

As we'd talked, I'd clamped my vagina and tightened my pelvic floors muscles around it, enjoying the sensation of his manhood being so intimately immersed in my body. His erection had surged in response, but stayed still on full penetration, letting my couplins slowly bind it into position, invade his urethra and send their little messenger pheromones or hormones or whatever they are, down into his gonads so I could control his mind; or so I'm told happens when a non-thrusting penetration is maintained.

But I wasn't really seeking to control him. His natural kindness was more than I could ask for. One part of me was quite happy to just lie here, falling asleep in his intimate embrace, his manhood binding us together as we slept and inducing all sort of erotic dreams in my resting brain. We've done it before many times.

Against that, all the physical contact with attractive male bodies had stirred up passions that needed to be released.

I lifted my head to look over Ned's shoulders at Liddy. Exhausted, she'd already fallen asleep as we'd conducted our whispered conversation. So this was not a great time for a succession of screaming orgasms or even wild, vigorous sex. But I wasn't sure that's what I wanted anyway. The night had been one of stolen intimacies and in its own way that's sort of how I felt the climax of the night should be achieved.

I indicated for Ned to roll on his back, me rolling with him to end up in a reverse missionary position on top of him.

For a leisurely time, we continued just to kiss and cuddle, stroking each other's bodies, at most me shifting my hips slightly to screw his fully penetrated erection around inside me and touching up my cervix.

But an ache slowly developed inside me; one that demanded something more immediately satisfying. I pushed down really hard against the base of his erection and lifted myself up on outstretched arms. Clamping him tightly, I, oh so slowly, partly withdrew him from my body, ripping apart the copulin bindings my body had laid down, and pushed it back in hard, grinding my clit on his pubis to supplement the vaginal stimulation the thrusts had given me.

Almost as soon as I'd lifted myself up, Ned had brought a hand up to one breast to stimulate the nipple as his mouth had clamped around the other, his tongue flicking against the hardened edifice the stimulation produced.

While all the stimulation that gave me felt absolutely fantastic, like an itch finally getting scratched, it sated me for a moment and after three such thrusts, the prospect of just resting intimately back in his arms grew more attractive.

It had been a long and exhausting night and it was past our usual bedtime. As I nuzzled Ned's cheek, I asked him...

"Are you desperate for me to let you fall asleep?"

I could sense Ned's face break into a smile as I continued to nuzzle the side of it...

"No, I'm only desperate to see you happy."

"I'm always happy when you're around."

"Good."

For another five minutes or so, I continued to lie there, nuzzling and caressing him gently while screwing the tip of his manhood around inside me on full penetration with hip movements to stimulate my cervix and just because it felt good, but otherwise letting my couplins glue his shaft inside me again.

But eventually I figured I either had to finish it or fall asleep, so again raised myself on outstretched arms.