Unexpected Threesome Ch. 58

When I woke up, I had this slight sense of things being out of place.

Amy, next to me, was dead to the world, in a sound sleep. Normally she's the one shaking me awake to go for our morning run. But she had a very late night dealing with a work project. I knew she hadn't come to bed until something like 2 am. I don't know how she can still get her brain to work that late. I certainly can't.

Of course, Ellen had taken advantage of the situation to get herself a one on one fuck. Nothing wild, unless you call their 'go the animal' sex wild; which is really just missionary position sex delivered with all the enthusiasm that all the lust I can feel for her can deliver. And I can tell you, that's a fair amount of lust. Lucky Ellen isn't as much of a screamer as Amy is or we would likely have distracted Amy from her work.

But Ellen, who was normally a later sleeper, was now missing from the other side of me. I knew she'd had a call from the au pair looking after her kids down the other end of the house about midnight. That happens occasionally -- fortunately fairly rarely - and she sometimes needs to sleep down the other end with one of her kids to pacify them.

What wasn't unusual was the skin stretching morning glory my cock was experiencing; not helped in the slightest by Amy's naked and uncovered body lying next to me. Sex the night before -- however good it is - doesn't do anything to supress a morning glory. It might even make it harder and it certainly makes it stickier.

I crawled out of bed on the side away from Amy as quietly and with as little fuss as I could. She certainly needed her sleep.

Selecting a clean pair of swim briefs -- which the girls have designated as the standard warm weather house dress for males - of which I'm the only one -- I stood perving at Amy's prone body as I pulled them up my legs and stretched them over the erection bisecting my stomach, pulling the waistband down to leave the erection as a spandex sheathed tower reaching almost to my navel.

I am still getting used to all this; by which I mean the sexualised environment in which I seem to have landed. It's not just the six monastic months I've spent grieving for the death of both my wife and father in a car accident. And it's not as though I didn't see a lot of my wife naked. It's just that my previous marital relationship was, shall we say, more conventional.

I didn't get out of bed every morning to see a stunningly attractive naked woman, lying uncovered and asleep; two of them when Ellen's there too.

And there's something hyper-sexualised about Amy's body; her breasts, her nipples, her mons, just the sheer beautiful perfection of every aspect of her body.

My manhood ached with a desire to make love to her. Hell, that's way too polite a way of describing it. It ached with a desire to fuck her. But there was no way I was going to disturb her, whatever my cock was saying.

There is one very nice thing I've discovered about swim briefs -- a garment I'd barely worn before the girls mandated them. They really feel incredibly nice, in a very erotic, prick teasing sort of way, over an erection; and especially, for some reason, a morning glory. Before, putting normal undies on would more or less kill the morning glory if it hadn't already died.

Somehow the swimmers didn't do that; although looking down at naked beautiful women as I put them on probably helped. But now, combined with a large degree of randiness, it was nice enough that it was difficult to resist the temptation to wrap a hand around it and playfully pleasure it a bit.

Which is what I'd started doing as I turned and left the room, even going far enough to stick my hand down the briefs, realign my erection into what the girls call a 'full horizontal' (a full erection which the spandex sheathing is holding down in a horizontal position) and play with it again; shuddering with the mild pleasure and looking down at it and admiring the way the bell inflated as I surged it, as I walked to the kitchen.

Which is when I looked up and saw Ellen, just coming out of the kitchen, standing there stark naked, watching me.

I blushed red as I realised I'd been caught. Taking my hand away barely changed anything really; just made me look more guilty.

Ellen grinned at me, quickly closing the gap between us before momentarily grabbing the projection with her own hand to guide it between her legs as she embraced me face to face with her arms lightly around the small of my back...

"Feeling a bit randy are we? You know either of us is willing to offer a cure for that, don't you."

I couldn't help myself. I found the length of my erection surging powerfully up against her crease where she'd placed it; something not helped at all by the radiated warmth from her crease that permeated the thin, tautly stretched material of my swimmers.

"It's just a morning glory that hasn't gone down yet."

"It wasn't likely to if you kept paying with it like that."

"I didn't know anyone was watching."

"Clearly. It was lucky it wasn't the au pair who took the stuff out to the kitchen. Anyhow, what does anyone watching have to do with the suppression of a morning glory. As I said, there are two lustful youngish women more than willing to deal with it for you."

"Amy's asleep and you were down the other end of the house."

I could see Ellen was in one of her playfully challenging moods...

"And you couldn't wait?"

"I wasn't going to jerk it off. Just enjoy a bit of playing with it while it was there. Anyhow, I'm not sure I'm entitled to ask for sex just because I'm feeling a bit randy or have a morning glory."

The warmth that had radiated through from Ellen's crease was starting to become quite damp...

"That's very noble of you; although I thought the male standard operandi was to ask for sex whenever they felt like it."

She raised her eyebrows as she added...

"Sometimes quite randomly actually, given the number of times Amy and I get hit on. Anyway, we've had that talk; always ask."

"I think that's a bit of a generalisation about men. But, in any case, it was just a morning glory."

"A morning glory that's quite excited if that surging into my vulva is any guide. It definitely needs attention."

There was an enormous grin on Ellen's face as she took my hand and led me down the corridor opposite the kitchen door, past Amy's office and into what had been my bedroom prior to me joining the girls in their bedroom.

When we got there, she backed me up against the bed and stripped me off before encouraging me to lay back on the bed and crawl fully onto it.

Ellen came over the top of me and lay on top of me, spreading her legs outside mine, then wiggling about until she had my erection entering her vagina. She slid down on me, fully penetrating herself on my shaft...

"There. Doesn't that feel much better than a hand?"

I know I blushed again as I felt like a teenage boy being caught by his mother jerking off.

"Yes it does."

"Good. Is it in a hurry?"

"A hurry for what?"

"Oh my goodness. We are a bit slow this morning. Missing that run with Amy is retarding your brain. In a hurry to dump its load."

"No, the intention never was to dump a load."

"Well, I'm sure we can change that intention, but I'm glad to hear it's not in a hurry. It means we can take our time."

Ellen nuzzled my cheek before lightly biting my neck. I could feel her dragging her nipples across my chest and screwing my erection about inside her as her body moved to facilitate her gentle assault on my head and neck.

With my arms embracing the small of her back, I simply laid back and enjoyed it; just rubbing my cheek against hers when she positioned her head where it would let me do that.

Ellen was certainly not in a hurry.

We're all feeling our way a bit at this early moment of our sexual arrangements. It's not really the sex that's the issue; we're well past that point. It is what goes with it. Lots of intimate body contact is OK too; that was what Ellen was doing this morning.

Where things get a bit sticky is when it comes down to really passionate kissing. None of us have forgotten that a mere six months ago -- before the car accident - we had partners who we dearly loved. Their loss still burdens us all. And I certainly feel, and from their reactions, I think so do the girls, that passionate kissing involves... I always struggle for the right word. I think it's love; a deep passionate love.

I do love the girls, and yet I still have a feeling that I owe my first love to my deceased wife. And I'm pretty sure the girls feel the same about Ned. And that maybe really passionate kissing is cheating on our deceased partners; at least this early.

Amy, overcome by a post sex oxytocin rush, passionately kissed me once; and for more than a brief period. But that was a spur of the moment thing.

Pre sex, or during sex, our desires might be running hot but, strange though it might seem when we're fucking like rabbits, somehow full on French kissing is going too far.

Regardless, neither of us went for thrusting our tongue into the mouth of the other. There was lots of neck biting, cheek caressing and even, when Ellen's positioning permitted, nipple sucking. And our hands were all over the other like a rash.

Ellen took her time with the full body contact; erotically moving about on top of me as she subtly screwed my erection around inside her. Slowly, I sensed she was working herself up into a higher state of excitement. A point was passed where her sensory excitement of herself transmogrified into a fucking. She lifted herself up into an elevated reverse missionary and started thrusting and grinding herself on my erection; her extended arm position offering me the delightful opportunity to suck and play with her nipples.

From there, it didn't take long before she came; collapsing on me and very quickly turning me over to put me on top and encouraging me to start my own thrusting into her still contracting vagina. I didn't require much encouragement for that; giving myself a very nice orgasm after an appropriately generous period of enjoying the feeling of my erection thrusting in and out of her.

As I did my own collapse down as I felt my climax peter out, I rolled Ellen back on top, draping her limp body over me. That's partly so I can continue to enjoy our intimate embrace without fear of crushing her. But importantly, it also leaves her with the decision as to when to disengage. I'm never sure how long the continuing entanglement should last; not wanting to be a 'wam, bam, thank you mam' guy, nor someone who causes the girl to think to herself 'will he ever let me up?'

Ellen waited until my erection shrunk out of her, then disengaged and, with a peck on my lips and a 'thank you' indicated she'd better get back to the kids.

That left me to get breakfast and an early start to my work day. The latter was important because Amy had asked me to come with her down to dad's yacht in the afternoon. It has been sitting at the marina unused and unvisited ever since the accident. While Amy had arranged for it to be properly looked after by the marina staff, Amy thought it was time to go down and check it out with a view to bringing it back into action. It could likely do with a clean-up and since it was a Wednesday, the day of the midweek race, it would be a chance to say hello to dad's sailing friends.

It would have been nice if Ellen could have come too, but she had appointments lined up so had to excuse herself.

Although previously an enthusiast, I hadn't had much to do with dad's yacht since he left for the Pacific cruise after mum died. By the time he came back, Jane and I were engaged and planning our wedding and with work and then kids, life just sort of took over. There was the very occasional family day on it, but once we had small kids, even that was considered risky, so we always had them at dad's home.

In a way, I was looking forward to getting involved again. It was dad's passion and I wanted to honour him by making good use of the boat. But I also figured I needed some outside activity to keep me sane.

It was around 12.30 Amy came into my office to collect me. She was dressed in the mid-blue, tightly fitting, plunging neckline, cropped t shirt and spray on tiny gym shorts, which I knew was the boat's women's uniform, under which I could see the string sides and ties of the tiny matching blue bikini that was the other part of it. She tossed me a bag...

"Here. Put these on."

I looked into the bag to find a sea of the same matching blue clothing; soon discerning a t shirt, pair of shorts and -- yes -- a pair of blue speedos, all new with tags still attached. As is Amy's way, I could see she'd been planning ahead. I looked up at her...

"I didn't think we were racing."

"We're not. But it is time to get the vibe back. The other sailors will be down there and it's time to say 'we're back', or at least will be soon."

There was no point arguing with Amy and I felt no desire to do so. I did as I was told before we set off on the short trip to the marina.

It had been many years since I'd been here, so I followed Amy as we entered the marina precinct. Half way down to the marina jetty, she led us into the marina office. It was staffed by a solitary young female, who was bent over a desk at the back of the room, writing something up, when we entered. I have to admit, even with Amy right in front of me, she was a distracting sight. She may have been on the short side, but in profile, she was stunning. Dressed only in a tightly fitted mini skirt and a plunging neck t shirt, she had a slim feminine figure, a really cute butt and breasts that seemed enormous on her small frame. The impression of a pretty face was confirmed as she turned towards us as she heard us enter.

What happened next was all so fast, it seemed like a blur.

She screamed 'Amy'. Next thing I knew she was around the other side of the counter, having wrapped Amy up on a bear hug. There was nothing hesitant about her embrace. Having almost thrown herself at Amy, it was full body contact from her upper thighs to her breasts, with her head over Amy's shoulder. Offset like that, the breast nearest me was half wrapped around Amy's underarm. To get her head over Amy's shoulder had required the young lady to stand on her toes and the process of elevating herself against Amy's torso dragged the front of her t shirt down to partly expose her areola.

I was nothing more than a passive bystander as Amy reciprocated her embrace and the pair rocked from side to side as they twisted their bodies back and forward around in a small semi-circle while the neck line of lady's t shirt walked itself progressive down her breast until the nipple was fully exposed and her already short skirt rode up to revel a rather cute red, g string, pair of panties.

The lady managed to say...

"Amy, it's so nice to see you. We've missed you so much."

But then her countenance turned to tears; visibly running down her cheeks as she seemed reluctant to let Amy go. The tears turned to heaving sobs; causing her to tighten her embrace of Amy. It took a few minutes before she was able to recover her composure. As she released Amy, Amy introduced us...

"Julie, this is John, Ned's son. John, this is Julie. She runs the marina."

In the moment between separating from Amy and rushing forward to embrace me, Julie seemed oblivious to the breast hanging out of her t shirt, or the fact the narrow strip that was the front of her low hung red panties was all now all but full exposed.

She pushed her body against mine as firmly and fully as she had against Amy's; almost requiring me to carry her weight as her breasts pushed into my chest, her crotch against mine -- well actually against the bulge of my manhood - and her head over my shoulder. Again she broke out into heaving sobs.

While moved by her sense of loss about my father, I was also distracted by a concern that her actions might trigger an erection which, in the way she was positioned, she would definitely become aware of. She sobbed into my ear...

"Your father was such a wonderful man. We all miss him so much. I'm so sorry about your loss; both of your dad and your wife."

As she recovered her composure again, she eventually disengaged, giving me a kiss on my cheek and straightening up her clothing like it was nothing out of the ordinary to have her breast and panties exposed.

As we continued down to the jetty, Amy explained...

"Julie was very close to Ned, especially after she joined the crew for the Hamilton Island Yacht Week. As silly as it sounds, I think she might have even had a bit of a crush on him. But she's a great marina operator. She seems to know everything about everything and everyone one when it comes to boating; able to get anything fixed. She's organised keeping the boat in good shape while we've been absent too."

The yacht was a familiar sight as we approached it sitting at its berth. As we bordered, Amy instructed me...

"OK, strip off. We have some cleaning to do."

She went below and even before I'd finished climbing down the companionway steps, was stripped down to her bikini. I wasn't quite sure why that was necessary, but followed her instruction, at least getting to enjoy putting sunscreen on her back and having her put it on mine. She dug some buckets and brushes out of the cockpit locker and handed me one...

"First thing is to get the seagull poop, algae and black stains off the decks and generally give them a clean-up. Although, it's not as bad as I thought it might be."

She wasn't wrong about it not being too bad. You had to look for them to find them and for the most part, the deck was in pretty good condition; even more so compared to a neglected boat three berths away which was covered in crap.

Amy got the hose off the jetty and started by giving the decks a good hose down, not being too careful about not wetting me as she did it. Then it was a case of filling the buckets with water and a bit of hull cleaner and getting down on our hands and knees to work on the more stubborn stains. Fortunately the boat came supplied with some knee pads that we could kneel on to soften the otherwise painful effect of the non-slip surface on the knees.

Starting at the bow, where we were kneeling side by side, Amy made sure we worked methodically; one of us down each side.

As Amy kneeled on the deck scrubbing it, rotating herself to give her the most comfortable angle of attack to whatever stain she was dealing with, the sight of her was a constant distraction to me. From in front of her or to the side, there was the sight of her breasts hanging from her chest, a generous display of side boob, under boob and cleavage boob evident; the size of her breasts exaggerated by gravity. From behind, the glorious sight of her butt, her mons mound bulging seductively between her legs.

Periodically Amy would get the hose and rinse down the area we'd done and rewet the section we were about to do. It was almost predictable when, on the third rinse, she turned the hose on me. It was equally predictable, and I suspect intended by her, that I wrestled the hose off her and gave her a good hosing down too.

But the wrestle gave me a half boner, and with her now wet bikini clinging all the more firmly to the features of her body that it hid, her nipples raised and projecting out the fine material covering them and her pants drawn into her crease, the distraction was all the greater and the boner even harder to get to settle; inappropriate as it was in public view.

We were three quarters down the length of the boat, now working either side of the cabin top where I could see less of her, when a rowdy group of men came along the jetty, heading for the yacht alongside ours. They too were dressed in a sort of boat uniform; red tops and white pants, although without women and bikinis, it didn't have quite the same effect.