Unexpected Threesome Ch. 56

When my father came back from his yacht cruise around the Pacific with what seemed like a tribe of women, all of whom were apparently his lovers and most of whom were younger than us, both my siblings and I at first wondered whether he'd started some sort of sex cult.

As we got to know them better and watched as things developed and, especially, as dad encouraged them to find their life partners, we realised our first judgment had been way too harsh. Indeed, we found what rather wonderful people these women were.

Liddy, being much closer to dad's age, for all practical purposes, became our stepmother; in the best sense of that word. Many mistake her for Amy's mother -- some even her sister - because she looks so much like her; although as soon as you hear Liddy's New York accent alongside Amy's now diluted English one, you realise that can't be the case.

Amy was always the surprise package. She never had any interest in leaving dad and, as we found out more about her back story of a decade of serious domestic violence abuse in England that she'd only escaped by surreptitiously, not just leaving home, but the country and cruising the Pacific, we understood that made more sense.

If ever god made a woman specifically intended to be the very pinnacle of sexually desirable, male frustration inducing beauty, it had to be Amy.

It goes beyond the normal of her soft, pretty, feminine, smiling face, her sensuous, long, auburn, sun bleached hair, her flawless, light olive skin, her tall, slender, shapely, womanly figure, her flat, sculptured, bikini bridge inducing stomach and her beautiful legs. On top of that, it's like every erogenous zone of her body is designed to scream 'sexuality' at every male in her vicinity.

Her breasts are drool inducing, leg crossingly, sexual in every aspect of them. 'C' cups (don't ask how I know), which are large on her slender frame, without being pendulous, they still sit perkily and projecting on her chest capped by the most gaze fixing nipples and areola I've ever seen; the areola puffing up somewhat as her nipples harden with the slightest cold and the nipples themselves turning into towering edifices; every part of it exaggerated to just the right amount.

And then there's her mons bulge; bisected by a crease that extends half way up its vertical height. Again, it screams sexuality as its goldilocks size almost cries out to every male penis within its sight; more so when it sucks her bikini bottoms into the crease down the front.

And her bottom? Oh my god, walking behind her is like going to heaven. The most beautifully proportioned, femininely shaped bottom I've ever seen; which she effortless and seemingly unthinkingly moves with such an unexaggerated sexual sway that it's almost impossible not to be aroused by her.

Of course, the effect of all of this is exaggerated by the fact she, like the rest of the girls, spends most of her time at home dressed in tiny bikinis and, even when they go out, in tightly fitted clothing that leaves little to the imagination. After all, how else would I be in a position to describe her in such detail except for the fact her clothing disguised absolutely nothing?

It would be easy with a girl like Amy to write her off as all beauty but no brains. You barely need to come into contact with her to know you couldn't be more wrong.

I suppose I first noticed that when I observed her dealing with, shall we say, over enthusiastic suitors; of which there are many. Amy is actually naturally shy; which is not the same as modest. Her current mode of dress was partly something adopted by all his girls to ensure my father had the sexual motivation to meet what I understand was their rather heavy demands. But in Amy's case it was also a rebellion against the very modest clothing her abusive partner made her wear.

The way she deflected them while actually making them feel good was a real lesson in interpersonal relations.

That was just the start. Increasingly I came to recognise how empathetic she was to the needs of others and the magical way she was often able to turn things to the better for them.

An obvious example of that was the way she effortlessly brought Ellen and her two young kids back into Dad's family after Ellen's husband and the father of her children died of COVID while on the front line of it as a doctor.

But then she did it for me too as, after the car accident that killed dad and my wife Jane, leaving me not just devastated by the loss, but lost as to how I was going to deal with being the provider for the family while looking after my kids and cooking and cleaning for them. She just arranged it so that I too was brought into the now reconstituted family; my kids under the care of Ellen's au pair and all the household duties shared with a bigger group.

It might seem like an obvious response now, but at a time when we were all grief stricken, it was only Amy who was thinking clearly enough and thinking about others enough to see what, in retrospect was the obvious answer.

It went way beyond just offering 'ideas'. On the night of the accident, and for a week after, their favourite 'Aunty Amy' was down at my house comforting the kids and providing, as best she could in the circumstances, some degree of substitute for their missing mother. It was Amy who helped me get the momentum to sort out our life and make the move up to dad's house where in my grief I was trapped by inertia. It was Amy who dealt with the real estate agent as we put the house up for rent. In short, it was Amy who helped me do all the things I couldn't bring myself to do alone; all with no fuss and no expectation of even gratitude in my grief stricken state. All while she dealt with her own enormous grief.

But as I've lived under the same roof as her, I've also seen how successful she in in her accounting practice, very much for that reason; able to find solutions to people's problems that are both practical and effective.

And then, there's the legendary story of how she anticipated a likely attack from her former abusive partner and physically prepared herself for dealing with it through body strengthening and fitness exercises.

Amy recognised him as someone who wouldn't let go, even if he was 13,000 miles away in the UK. She also recognised that as a coward, he'd strike when she was alone and least expect it, probably use a knife and would also probably want to rape her first. In all of that, she was correct.

He did catch her off guard, alone and trapped within the pool fenced area, when he managed to sneak into Australia at the height of the COVID pandemic, at a time Australia's borders were closed.

But by understanding his patterns and weaknesses and staying calm as he pinned her down and prepared her for raping by slowly cutting her bikini off, she managed to fight back at an opportune moment, fracturing his skull, dislocating his shoulder, compound fracturing his arm, cutting the tip of his nose off (he was sniffing her bikini pants with the same hand he held the knife in when she started her fight back), crushing one of his balls so badly it had to be removed and having him stab himself in the back as he fell on his own knife. And then she got him a long jail sentence with her clear testimony.

Frankly, at that stage, we were all willing to bow down to her as something of a demi-god.

If there was anything unfortunate in Amy's story, it was probably in her refusal to have a baby. It seemed such a pity that such perfect genes wouldn't be passed onto the next generation. But then again, of necessity, they would be diluted by whoever it was had the privilege of impregnating her.

And then, of course, there's Ellen.

If you want a mental picture of Ellen, it's simple. A Nordic supermodel. Seriously tall, blonde and slender, it's like her figure is carved out of her alabaster skin by the most dedicated artist. She might not have the sexually heightened erogenous zones of Amy, but she has a physical and intellectual beauty all her own.

A doctor by profession, and mother of two young girls, she's smart, witty beyond belief and very amusing. An absolute delight to be around.

One should not take the difference in the time taken to describe them as reflecting on my attraction to them. The simple fact is that Ellen's beauty is far more conventional than the more sexualised beauty of Amy and Ellen has a basis of attraction far more nebulous, but still powerful.

Dad occasionally spoke of Ellen having an 'aura' about her that was a powerful attractant. As a married man I kept a friendly but respectful distance from all dad's women as they ran around in their near naked state, so I might have nodded sanguinely but never really let myself experience what he meant by that.

Once I moved in with them though, I quickly discovered what that meant. Whether everyone feels it, or it is just some genetic thing carried over from my father, there is certainly a magnetic attraction when I'm near her. It goes well beyond appearance, or even admiring her intelligence and humour. It is almost a melding of the minds. No, no, Ellen is certainly not second rated from my point of view.

For all of that, moving in with them was quite an adjustment.

In the past we would visit them all for family gatherings every second week or so and during all but the coldest months, seeing them in their tiny bikinis was, I suppose, something we got used to. I can't say I was unaffected by the sight, even as a happily married man. It was bad enough -- or good enough depending on how you look at it -- just watching them prancing around the BBQ and by the pool, apparently completely oblivious to the effect they had on the younger males. It was even worse when they physically fawned all over dad; partly arousing him and -- as much as we tried to hide it -- every other male on the scene.

I suppose one upside was that it influenced Jane to be more...I can't think of any word other than sexual - in her mode of dress. Some husbands might have disapproved. I thought it lovely.

Once I started living with them it was almost like having the sight of near naked women dancing around me on tap 24/7. And if their bikinis weren't arousing enough, the pre-bed clothing they wore as we sat around watching TV or talking was completely over the top. If they sat on the lounge opposite me, I could see up the loose legs of their French knickers at their exposed pussies and if they sat next to me I had an easy view down the front of their camisoles at their breasts.

It was easy to want to help them with the household chores, since it often had me watching them bent over scrubbing floors or whatever in little more than a g string bikini bottom. And, oh, watching them empty the bottom rack of the dishwasher was more entertaining than any show I could think of.

I can't deny that, as I came to grips with my grief and loss, the hormonal effect the girls had on me became ever more powerful.

But evidently this thing is meant to be a two way street. I had always noticed that dad was usually in a pair of speedos when we visited. Probably more so than I remembered him being when I was living at home. But still, dad was of a generation that regarded speedos as normal beach and pool wear.

I'm of a later generation for whom they were a bit of an anathema. Because of dad's influence, I might have worn them more than most my age, but had long since left that behind. Board shorts had become my natural beach and poolside wear.

But from relatively early days there, the girls put me under pressure to match their outfits with a pair of speedos of my own. They even bought them for me. And loose boxer shorts for my pre-bed attire.

The problem with both those options was I had no way of hiding my arousal when my body reacted to their provocative presence. Most of the time it might be nothing more than a half mongrel with an arguably ambiguous bulge. But there were times it was a full erection that left nothing to the imagination or doubt. And I could see the girls staring at it, but never challenging me about its appropriateness. I sort of came to accept it as normal.

In fact it became almost like living in a nudist colony, but without the rules against staring or getting aroused. Even Jenna, the au pair was no more modestly dressed than the rest of the women.

From early days, Amy had me joining her for morning runs and exercise sessions. Just because Frank had tried and failed and was now in jail, Amy wasn't giving up her fitness routine. And she was right, the exercise did help me displace and deal with the grief I felt in those first months.

There too, she pushed me to wear speedos, arguing they we more suited to the swim we'd often go for when we got down the hill to Pittwater. And in terms of not have wet running shorts chaff me as we came back up the hill, she was right.

But that meant any arousal she induced in me during our run was now in the public domain and, I have to say, to be following her while she was running along a narrow bush track, or swim with her in Pittwater after she'd taken off her sports bra to keep it drier for the trip home was definitely arousal inducing. And let me say, arousal was common. Watching her tall lithe body and her perfect bottom, working itself into a sweat ahead of me stirred up feelings of desire which I thought at the time completely inappropriate even as I couldn't resist positioning myself to do so; easy enough when the track is narrow and has only room for a single file.

And watching her effortlessly and gracefully cat leap over, across and on to various rocks, tree roots and creeks that littered the track brought to mind some sort of hyper sexy heroine out of the Marvel Universe, simply adding to the demi-god image I already had of her and driving the effect she had on me to a new height.

Still, as Amy always seems to do, she won that little battle.

And I suppose in the process I discovered she likes to watch my butt, and even my cock bouncing, while I'm running as much as I like to watch hers; something I found rather flattering.

But all of this exposure to their half-naked beauty was having a cumulative effect on me as I lived with them. As grief gave way to acceptance, my normal male reaction to their presence and the desires that generated became increasingly difficult to ignore.

The day Amy sat down next to me on the pool lounge after completing her laps in the pool, rested her head on my shoulder, looked down at the erection in my speedos that watching her had generated, exposed it and gave me a hand job, changed everything.

When she then laid herself across my lap and asked me to finger her, it was like every erotic dream I'd ever had come true. While I lacked the courage to slip my hand under her bikini, I got to touch up all those erogenous zones that had teased me for so long while seeing her body react to my fingering.

When that night Ellen and Amy came into my room naked and asked me to come back and share their bed with them and then proceeded to have me fuck them, not just that night, but the following morning too, I found myself in a different world. One that I'd never been in before and required me to make a lot of adjustments. That of a polygamous relationship with two very randy women.

When, on our morning run that day, Amy gave me a heads up on why both she and Ellen got climaxes while I fucked them in the missionary position, I didn't realise that was just the start of the education I was about to get from them of dealing with this new situation. If nothing else, it showed the girls understood the culture shock they were drawing me into and the uncertainties I felt.

The real education started when we stopped for morning tea. We all work from home at the moment and had got into the habit of coordinating a morning tea break for some social interaction. And while this was a Saturday, Amy and I had a bit of a backlog to catch up on -- especially Amy.

Ellen led us to the lounge in the living room where Amy and she sat either side of me, both of them firmly pushed against my flanks; given we were all in swimwear, leaving their naked flesh pushed against mine.

Putting her coffee on the table, Ellen put her hand on my upper thigh as she turned to me...

"Well, now we've broken the ice, do you want to keep up the arrangement we had last night."

For me, the answer was easy...

"Yes."

"I think it's safe to assume you've never been in a threesome relationship before."

"That's a very safe assumption."

"Well, what I'm about to tell you is not so much the rules, but guidance as to how to make it work. Clearly you have your own agency, so if something's not working for you, let's talk about it."

Ellen's tone was not so much lecturing as playfully challenging and, I suppose like that of someone describing a new adventure one was about to go on...

"Firstly, sex is a big thing for Amy and me. Not just the physical side of it but the intimacy that comes with it, so you may find yourself with more demands for sex than you're used to.

You can grope or fondle us any time the inclination takes you. We like you being attracted to us and wanting to touch us.

But we will grope and fondle you too. In fact we've found that's a really important part of keeping you with the sexual stamina you need to keep two women happy. Our experience is that an aroused man is a randy man, so keeping you in a regular state of arousal even as we go about our daily activities is sort of part of our objective. We know we dress to arouse, so don't be embarrassed if it has that effect. Stare at us all you want. Even Jenna is used to the sight by now.

If you feel the urge to fuck one of us, do it. We like to feel lusted over. If it doesn't for some reason suit at that moment, we'll gently let you know without holding it against you.

I suppose you do need not to play favourites. We know Amy has the world's most fuckable body, but try and be neutral or balanced in your choice of one on one partners."

Ellen cast her eyes across to Amy as she said the last sentence, smiling at her.

As Ellen spoke, her hand had edged up my thigh and Amy had placed hers on my other thigh. The side of the inner finger of each of their hands now rested against the swimwear sheathed side of my aroused manhood. Amy was slightly moving her finger, contributing even more to my arousal.

As I'd originally sat down, I'd fully leaned back on the lounge. To look at me as we discussed what were clearly very important issues to the girls, they'd sat upright and half turned towards me. Apart from anything else that meant I now had four barely covered breasts in their tiny bikini tops dangling distractingly in front me; the distraction compounded by Amy's nipples being on very high beam.

But Ellen wasn't finished yet...

"Have you done much oral sex?"

Jane was never really into that, so I had to admit...

"No."

"Well, we like getting oral sex. It's really useful in a threesome where you can fuck one girl while eating out another. We can give it too. Amy's the world's best at it. But we don't like to waste your climaxes when we need to share them between the two of us, so it might be a rare treat.

As to threesome sex itself, you might have noticed we take turns at being first. Whoever is first only grips you lightly to make it less likely you'll come prematurely. In the ideal world, the second one takes what we call the cum shot. We like getting the cum shot so we do our best to alternate that.

"Finally, are you willing to experiment with positioning for sex? We have some dozies if you are."

"I'm happy to try."

"Good"

Ellen looked up at Amy...

"Anything else Amy?"

"I think that's a good start."

Ellen looked at me...

"Any questions or comments?"

I had to grin...