Unexpected Threesome Ch. 54

It has been a while since I added to this story, partly because I thought it was jumping the shark. But I've had number of requests to continue it. And I do like the characters, even if the story has got a bit off track

This is a chapter I had partly written, which I've brought to a conclusion because, well, what is there is probably titilating and worth publishing. It makes more sense it you remember the previous chapter, so that might be worth a reread..

The next chapter - if I write it - is likely to jump forward a couple of years.

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Between meeting Liddy's demands and mine, Ned had spent a good part of the day being absent from the beach party that was the Hamilton Island Race Week lay day.

He did feel some sense of guilt about ignoring the rest of his crew.

So when after fifteen minutes or so his erection finally went limp and wouldn't stay in me any longer, he thought it was time to rejoin the group.

After I put on a fresh bikini and he a fresh pair of speedos, to allow for the bodily fluids that had collected on the ones we'd entered the room in, we wandered back down to where the rest of the crew were still taking it easy around the pool; indulging in whatever the party atmosphere had to offer. But as soon as Ellen saw me approaching, she lept up from where she was sitting, intercepting me while we were still ten meters away and dragged me off to the side; much I'm sure to Ned's amusement.

As soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else, she blurted out...

"What the hell did Ned just do to you? It felt like he was fucking your arse off. I had to drag Harry into the pool and pash him there to hide its effect on me and my orgasms. I thought I was going to squirt."

This whole psychic thing Ellen and I have where we feel it when Ned's making out with someone else was getting out of control. Normally for me it's little more than a sensation that Ned's rooting Liddy. Enough to have a fair idea what sort of sex they're having, and maybe make me feel a bit randy, but not enough to create the extreme feelings Ellen and I have been getting on the island.

Frankly it is all a bit destabilising. All very nice if you're somewhere private and can cope with -- let alone respond -- to the feelings. But very embarrassing in public and playing havoc with my attempted equivalent of the Amish concept of Rumspringa; using this week to test my attraction to more age appropriate men and my determination to stay with Ned notwithstanding what he regards as our excessive age difference.

"I asked Ned to go completely apeshit, crazy animal on me."

"Holy crap. What did he do?"

I described to Ellen our lovemaking...

"Shit. No wonder it induced multiple orgasms in me. Why did you ask for that?"

Breathing in deeply, I described to Ellen how Ned had encouraged me into this Rumspringa thing for the week and how I'd been having a bit of a third base making out with Ian when my psychic picking up of Ned's rooting of Liddy had turned my fooling around with Ian into an unexplainable orgasm festival and left me desperately in need of some Ned provided antidote...

"So that's why you were coming on to Greg and that other guy on the swan in the pool."

Ellen insisted I download the whole morning to her; something I reluctantly did...

"Wow. What happens next? Are you going to root him?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'm completely torn. Ned wants me to at least keep an open mind about a bit of a serious sexual fling or two."

"Or two? What are you going to do? Work your way through the TP52 guys?"

I wanted to change the topic...

"What are we going to do about this psychic thing with Ned? Are we going to tell him? It's all getting a bit intense."

"I don't think telling him will change that. I don't know. He'll just think we're crazy."

"That's why I was wondering whether we should do it together."

"I don't know. Let's think about it."

At least that had stopped Ellen's line of enquiry and I was able to guide us both back to the group.

I'd hadn't long laid myself out on the sun lounge before Ian found me. It wasn't as though he didn't know where to look. He asked if he could sit with me. I could hardly say no, but it wasn't long before he'd wormed his way into the position where he was resting his back on the half reclined lounge, with me sitting resting against his chest; him arms around my waist and resting into my upper thigh and his erection making a dent in my lower back. He was certainly a randy bugger.

He knew I could feel it too and would surge it against my back from time to time. An optimistic invitation to have a root with him.

It became less subtle when he leaned forward and whispered in my ear...

"I've got some condoms now and somewhere quiet and comfy if you're interested."

I coyly answered...

"Not now. Maybe later."

I was keeping my options open. The problem was I was sitting right opposite Ned and a guy is all but fingering me in front of him. And while Ned might be cosied up to Liddy, that's a whole different thing.

It was really hard to relax, even if I wanted to get the vibe of being with another guy. I mean, Ned wasn't looking across at me judgmentally or anything. Indeed, he was trying hard to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if I was just another crew girl on his team that was wanting to play the field on the Island.

It got more awkward when Ian started nuzzling my neck and his hand did really move in to cup my crotch, one finger poking in to find my clit under my bikini bottom. He was working hard to get what he wanted; his erection inside my pussy. And while I might be tempted to grant him that wish -- at some point -- my brain was having trouble coping with its torn loyalties, whatever Ned might say.

And I could only hope that Ned or Ellen had given the others a heads up on the arrangement. I wouldn't for an instant want them to think I was doing the wrong thing by such a wonderful man.

After all, walking off hand in hand with Ian wasn't going to solve the puzzle, when everyone would know what we were heading off to do.

Ned took pity on me and broke the standoff by announcing...

"I think we might go down and hire a few paddleboards for an hour or two. Who'd like to join us?"

That took away just about all our crew. I doubt the TP52 guys were part of the invite for the paddleboards, but most of them decided to follow the group down to the beach anyway; that's where most of the pretty girls -- and especially their favourite Julie - were going. Which pretty well left Ian and myself alone.

Ian intensified his nuzzling; moving his other hand up to cup my left breast. I whispered to him...

"Where did you have in mind?"

"Our unit. Greg's out over at Whitehaven Beach with Cath."

I steeled myself. Strange though it is for me to say, I almost felt today had been too sexual already. Fooling around in the pool on the swan, triggering Greg to an orgasm, giving Ian two orgasms on the yacht and then blowing both Ned's and my brains out with the most intense sex ever. And that's before mentioning my body tuning inappropriately in to Ned and Liddy's activities and the effect that had on me.

But it also represented a momentum. A momentum to do something that I was only half persuaded I should. In this case it wasn't Ian coercing me into doing it; although no doubt that was his intention. It was entirely an internal conversation. I decided to go with the flow...

"OK, lets go."

Ian didn't need a second invitation. He had me out of the chair and walking with him towards the unit in an instant.

That fact was, I was as nervous as a kitten in my approach to this. Even setting aside my torn loyalties, I just didn't have much experience at letting myself be seduced by a new man. Frank basically took me as a naïve innocent virgin. Ned I had known and lived with on the yacht for months before Issie and I planned his seduction. And even though, almost by accident, it didn't follow our timetable, there was not the slightest sense of surrendering to him.

And as Ned had observed before, I, like him, are basically a 'sex belongs in a relationship' person. For me, with Ian, the cart is going before the horse. But that was always the fundamental problem with this Rumspringa thing and the time constraints it imposes.

Ian's unit was a motel style bedsitter in a unit block next to the one we were staying in.

As we entered the room, he offered me a beer or wine and I happily settled for a chilled white wine while he went for the beer.

Ian removed his shirt and we sat on a sunbed on the veranda; me resting back against his chest like we'd been doing on the poolside one.

This time his hands didn't show the reticence of last time. As I rested against his chest, he put his -- beer free - right arm around me, slipping it under the hem of my micro mini lace dress to finger my crotch. We sat there, conversing about trivialities and, as a backup, sailing, while sipping our drinks and looking at the glorious view over the resorts main beach.

Initially his fingers had simply brushed themselves against the gusset of my tiny bikini pants. The ones I had on were a burnt yellow version of the orange ones from earlier in the day and had obviously raised in Ian the same feelings as the earlier ones. Because instead of pushing his fingers into my crease, he started to explore my raised mound with his fingers.

I hadn't really realised until Ned pointed it out, how my mons is different from the majority of women. There's a really pronounced mons bulge which Ned tells me is a mons Venus in the fullest sense of that word -- the mons of a goddess. And in private and from his point of view of course he says it makes me look like a ripe bit of fruit ready for a sexual taking; a feeling multiplied by my breasts which are reasonably big for my slender body. Given my feelings for Ned, they are words I like to hear from him.

And of course, as he admits, when I'm wearing the tiny bikinis I wear, the whole effect is multiplied a thousand times.

But it's always been obvious to me Ned's not the only male who reacts that way. And for reasons associated with my past history of suffering domestic violence and abuse, I get quite a buzz from knowing I can have that effect on men. I understand men's eyes can be drawn to certain things, and I'm not a girl to complain when they are.

The orange bikini I had on earlier in the day, like the yellow one I had on at this point, has a slide tri top with a generous display of cleavage boob, side boob and under boob. In short the triangles are pretty small. The bottoms are no less teasing. Brazilian at the back, at the front they are a small rectangle of tautly drawn material which is not quite big enough to fully cover my mons bulge or span the width of my crotch. So you can add mons and crotch flesh to what was already on display.

When I was sitting opposite Ian and Greg on the inflatable swan drifting around the pool earlier today, with my legs spread across their bodies, their eyes were almost permanently transfixed on my crotch and boobs and their erections sprang almost instantly to life; Greg's somewhat faster than Ian's.

But now I could see Ian wanted to spend some time feeling and touching what had teased him for so long. That was no surprise, even now, Ned does the same.

He brought his fingers up and ran them gently along, back a forwards, the short length of waist elastic at the top of the rectangle of my bikini pants. Then he ran them up and down the side leg elastic; touching up the exposed mons flesh on either side.

Putting his beer down for a moment, he slipped his other hand inside the plunging arm hole of my lace dress and cupped my left breast, playing with my nipple through the thin unlined material of my bikini top.

You could almost hear his brain decide...'OK, I've touched her up and tested her response, I can probably now get away with taking off that dress'.

Withdrawing his hand from the arm hole, he used both hands to start lifting the hem of my dress up, waiting as I leant forward for him and then pulling it over my head and depositing it next to the lounge.

Before he let me lean back against him, he took it further when, with a loud 'ripping' noise, he tore open the Velcro closure on the waistband and fly of his boardies. Now as I leant back against him, I could feel the naked flesh of his erection on my back.

His right hand came back and started feeling up the flesh of my mons through the material of my pants; stroking and lightly compressing it from both sides, like testing an avocado for ripeness.

With access to my breasts now a bit easier, he decided he could hold the beer in two fingers while the palm and remaining fingers of his left hand played with my breast; but then playfully pressed the cold beer can against my breast to quickly enlarge my nipple to its spectacular best, and surged his cock against my back in response to the stimulation of my squirming about in response to the cold before letting the raised nipple slip between two of his fingers to let him tweak it with slow and lightly applied desynchronised fingers.

He had his head forward nuzzling my neck. But I could see at the same time he was looking down the front of my body, exciting himself as he watched himself play with it.

His playing with my crotch was becoming more bold. He pushed a finger and the material of the bikini pants on which it sat into the crease running down the front of my mons, then turned it under, feeling out for my clit to play with it for a while before pushing it further into my crease to feel the opening of a sexually receptive vagina.

That encouraged him to go further. He slipped his fingers under the narrow gusset of my bikini pants; fingering first the flesh of my moistened clit and then digitally penetrating me with two fingers. At the same time, he exposed my left breast and played delightedly with the exposed orb and its projecting nipple.

We were only half way through our drinks and I could feel him surging and slowly sliding his manhood against my back, so simply relaxed back more limply onto his chest and let him play away as I slowly continue to empty my glass. He seemed to be getting as much pleasure humping my back as he was likely to get if I slipped my hand around my back and played with his shaft. At this stage I was happy to let him enjoy himself playing with my body.

I was sober enough and collected enough to notice that, although he was finding my body aroused, it was nothing like the effect Ned would have. I wasn't as wet, nor as desperate to move on. Partly Ian wasn't hitting the spots. His penetrating fingers weren't searching out my g spot, more doing on a tourist drive through my vagina. And his attempts and fingering my clit were brief and inconsistent.

But I also knew there was something missing in my reaction even to what he was doing. He wasn't Ned.

As I emptied my glass, he took a final swig from his beer can and asked...

"Is it time to take this inside?"

I stood up. In a way I was still as nervous as a virgin on a honeymoon (if that happens anymore) but also committed to what amounted to this human experiment. He stood up behind me, his erection fully exposed out of the open front of his boardies and the latter needing a hand to keep them from sliding off his body at least until he was inside the room, where he kicked them off. He led me by the hand into the room and towards his single bed; guiding me to lie down on it.

While he was now stark naked and fully rampant, I was surprised he laid me down still in my bikini. He didn't seem to be as anxious to strip me, or even to get his dick into me, as before. Maybe the knowledge it would happen eventually let him decide to -- as Ned would describe it -- lust over my body before fucking it.

And for a while, lust over it he did; sucking and playing with my nipples -- one of them through the bikini top still covering it -- and working down my body until he had gone down between my legs to kiss and fondle my mons and my crease -- still through my bikini pants, all while dripping copious pre-cum over me.

But eventually his needs got the better of him. He knelt between my legs while I watched him roll the condom on himself, then all but threw himself on top of me as he rolled about engaging me in a furious pashing session, slowly pulling the string ties on my bikini to remove first my top and then my pants.

There was something mildly dominating about the way he went about this. He had a willing participant, but he carried it out with a sense he was pretending to himself it was somewhat forced against a partner wanting to resist, his weight excessively on me and his approach to stripping me a little compelled rather than shared or cooperative or even playful. Even the pashing seemed more imposed than shared.

This feeling was reinforced by the way he almost pinned me to the bed as he penetrated me.

It was all subtle and I was willing to acknowledge I might be more sensitive to these things because of my background, but it still just raised the slightest doubt in my head.

Having penetrated me, he induced me to raise my knees around him, wrapping his arms behind them to almost bring my knees up alongside my head. Then he started thrusting.

He certainly was enjoying it. From the first one, he was moaning and groaning like he was overwhelmed by the pleasure and every hip jerking thrust would be his last. Certainly more than he did earlier when I was dry humping or titty fucking him.

For me, it was a bit ordinary. Way better and more passionate than Frank ever gave me certainly, but that's setting a low base. Anything like sex with Ned? Not by a long way.

The way he had my hips bent up should have given me plenty of g spot stimulation, but his thrusts were going from deep to deeper, nowhere near like hitting what Ned refers to as my shallowly located g spot. And Ned might be able to give me straight out vaginal orgasms, but whether because his dick wasn't near as thick as Ned's or I just wasn't emotionally responding to him like I do with Ned, Ian just wasn't doing it for me. Ian certainly didn't generate that sense of filling me with his cock that Ned does.

If Ian was wondering what had happened to the screaming orgasm nymphomaniac he was fooling around with this morning, he didn't show it. He just kept pounding away unchanging in his approach regardless. It was like I was a slightly bemused bystander to his private porn show.

Towards the end, he might have elicited a pleasurable moan or two from me, but he probably didn't notice. I've never faked it, and wasn't going to now. When I scream, they're real and embarrassingly uncontrollable.

His climax came with an almost bellowing...

"Ggooooooooooorrrrrrrr"

After which he just lay silently against me with his face planted between my breasts panting as he squirted out whatever followed that first rope or two.

Finally he asked...

"Did you come?"

I wasn't going to lie...

"Fraid not."

"Would you like me to finish you?"

"That would be nice."

As he withdrew, a quick glance confirmed for me he was still partly sheathed in a condom which now had a bulb of cum dangling off his flaccid cock. He eased my legs back onto the bed and adopted a half over me pose; sucking my nipples while fingering my clit.

He wasn't too bad at it; hardly an overwhelming endorsement of what's meant to be one of life's most intense pleasures. He got me to a moderately nice orgasm, but it took way longer than it would have with Ned. Ned sucking my breasts and doing nothing more would have got me there in half the time.

It took long enough he had another hard on by the time I finished. At least that's one advantage of his youth relative to Ned. Or at least an advantage if you wanted more sex.