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Alt 24 Ocak 2023, 19:27   #1
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Standart Unexpected Threesome Ch. 46

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For me, the post coital sleep next to Amy was like the sleep of the dead; long and deep. And yet it was full of dreams as my brain dealt with the complexity of the sexual situation I was dealing with on the yacht.
At its core was that I had come to accept that Amy could not be denied her sexual indulgences, however much her screaming response carried through the boat and upset its equilibrium. And yet my sleeping brain confronted the question of whether that really was all that significant.
After all, our other partner in polygamy, Liddy, is well familiar with Amy's noisy sex and is well capable of seeing her own sexual needs satisfied by me; indeed, I set up the watch system on the boat specifically to facilitate that.
Shelley and Adam might not have seen or heard it before, but have quickly adapted to use Amy's reaction to provide a mask for their own activities. Given what an outlier Amy is on all her sexual needs and responses, they might have a giggle about it later, but they're hardly likely to suffer emotional damage from it.
And having spent two years cruising the Pacific on the yacht as I banged away at Amy and them in what in retrospect seems like one continuous orgy, Issie and Ellen have heard and seen it all before. Is there really an issue?
Of course, the sleeping brain doesn't deal with issues by way of some sort of philosophical diatribe. Instead it was dealt with by a way of vivid scenes, as if from a very poorly edited, highly pornographic and very cheaply made movie.
And on waking dreams are usually only remembered in snippets and unless quickly analysed and replayed by the waking brain, soon forgotten. But this series of dreams was so vivid that at least some part of it imprinted itself well beyond my first waking moments.
Core to it, or at least the start of it, is me making love to Amy in her favourite g spot banger position where I kneel between her legs as she lies on her back and hooks her legs over my shoulders; letting me firmly rake her g spot with my erection. Because it gives her a series of intense orgasms while not being a particularly endurance challenging position for me, nothing will cause her to bring down the house with her screaming more than that position.
Of course, dreams can exaggerate visual elements. With only Amy's shoulders in contact with the bed, this position certainly tends to delightfully rag-doll Amy's upper body as I look down on her. But, in what might be a shameful comment on my own sexual obsessions, the dream blew this out of all proportions; enlarging her breasts and the rag dolling to a comic extent as I watched her breasts move and bounce around like a pair of volley-ball balls in an intense competition.
Drawn by the screaming, the others on the yacht crowd into the cabin which seems to expand to accommodate them.
For some reason, the audience doesn't disturb me and I just keep banging away at Amy, smiling at the others as I do.
One by one, each of the others responds to what they are seeing. Adam is the first as his monster cock bursts out of the tiny pair of swim briefs he's wearing and turns into a towering erection. Seeing it Shelley grabs it, backs herself against a wall and brings it to penetrate her. There's nothing delicate about what follows. Fully penetrated his erection seems as though it would reach half way up her torso but that doesn't inhibit either of them as he starts thrusting forcefully enough to lift her off her feet and bang her head against the cabin roof as she starts moaning and groaning with the sort of noises that have come to us in our waking moments after Amy falls silent to expose their own carnal activities.
There is no doubt that in my dream, the rest of the watchers reacted in some sort of extreme way. But here the continuity and editing of my dream completely falls apart.
I can tell you that there were aspects of it that left me feeling quite disturbed for a while after I woke up. It certainly wasn't just other snippets of pornographic behaviour that my dream imposed on Adam and Shelley. It was more challenging of what was going on. But I can't recall the details, or even the protagonists, of the disturbing part.
And yet, in the back of my waking mind, I knew there was really only one issue beyond the general embarrassment of having my sexual exploits broadcast through the whole boat. And that was Ellen.
As I said above, Liddy's gets her turns with me and Adam and Shelley are using us as cover for their own exploits. It might arouse Issie and bring out the voyeur in her, but there nothing that a bit of peeping tom behaviour by her and a good self-fingering won't fix. Her emotional connection with me no longer runs deep enough that my activities with Amy affect her emotionally.
With Ellen on the other hand, the residual sexual frission between us and the lack of her husband Harry here as an outlet for her frustrations is definitely unsettling her. In our Pacific cruising days, it is what the girls would have escort izmir described as the fear of missing out; in the present case translated to something beyond fear to an actuality of missing out.
Still, Ellen's a mature, sensible and very intelligent woman. She understands Amy and why it would be inappropriate not to satisfy her sexual needs. And it's only for a week.
I decided I would just make a point of being more engaged with Ellen, to show her I understood her position and still cared about her, while tolerating any minor instances where her behaviour went beyond the already liberal, if unspoken, rules for our physical interactions.
I suspected Harry was going to get his cock all but ripped off by her demands when he flew up to join us.
Amy did her best to find the middle ground in our activities. Even if the middle ground still involved a lot of sexual screaming.
But she didn't ask for or expect the prolonged, almost endless, multi-orgasmic sex like the hip elevated g spot banger; instead looking for positions and techniques that guaranteed success but achieved it faster.
The wind for the most part continued to blow freshly from the Southern quadrant. With a reasonable and constant swell and Ellen's expert navigation keeping us in North running eddies in the East Coast Current, or at least out of the worst of the Southern flow, the third day saw us surfing past Mooloolaba, more than 450 nautical miles from home.
6 pm that evening found me sleeping with Liddy. One thing both Liddy and Amy enjoy while we're at sea is sleeping penetrated. It was something they discovered during the Pacific cruise. You lie down together facing each other and the girl hooks her upper leg over mine and fully penetrates my erection.
I suspected at the time, and later had confirmed, that during the Pacific cruise it was part of the fear of missing out competitive response of the girls; including in those day Ellen and Issie.
Evidently if a male appendage remains moderately static and weeping pre-cum inside a woman, her body produces a number of fluids other than those lubricating normal sex.
One is a sort of glue that binds the shaft in place. I can vouch for that, I've felt its effect many times when we've kissed and cuddled penetrated before getting down to the serious business. We're not talking araldite like glue here, more a soft binding, easily broken if one is determined to do so.
The other fluid contains the piece de resistance in the form of copulins and their enabling fluids which open up the penile duct and allows the copulins to move down the shaft and be forced to invade the gonads. From there they enter the bloodstream and move to the hypothalamus. Once they're there, it can basically make the male very compliant to the female's wishes.
I have to say, when four of them were trying this on me on the yacht during the Pacific cruise, the result, to say the least, was very confusing for the one poor male dealing with so many conflicting signals. Fortunately the girls were good friends and of a sharing nature.
With just Amy and Liddy now doing it, all I can say is I'm very aware of just how far I'll bend over backwards to meet their needs; and I don't just mean sexual. But I still love every minute of my life with them.
Because they are otherwise more than satisfied sexually -- even Amy -- there's no crushing need for us pounding away at each other after we join like this. Instead we just kiss and cuddle until we drift off to sleep. In a way, at sea, the yacht does the rest. Whether we're awake or asleep, the constant rocking and rolling of the boat produces a gentle thrusting from the moment we're joined and right through our sleeping hours.
It is something that is delightfully erotic if you're in the mood for it.
It certainly can cause wet dreams or whatever the female equivalent of those are; always and frequently during the night for Amy and usually but at longer intervals for Liddy. I seem to have the longest endurance and won't always have one -- depending on how long we continue like that. Of course, when I do erupt, it sort of brings the whole thing to an end.
On this night Liddy had already woken me once as her body tensed, groaned involuntarily and her contractions had pummelled my shaft. But that was normal and we simply drifted back to sleep.
It was shortly after that I was rudely awakened by the engine alarm going off; usually indicating an overheating problem. The engine had been running at a little over idle to keep us at close to hull speed as the wind lightened in the evening.
With that sense of urgency that comes from an alarm screaming into a half awake brain, I instinctively withdrew from Liddy and leapt out of the bunk to see what was happening. It was of course moments like these that normally caused me to sleep at least in a pair of speedos while at sea; well at least until the Screw Girls had taken control of the situation.
Because in this case, it was izmir escort bayan a completely naked male with a rampant erection that barged out of the master cabin into the main one, there to collide into a full frontal embrace with an equally naked Ellen who had emerged from her slumbers in the central bunk cabin, as we both reached for the overhead light switch in the darkened cabin.
I'm happy to say that it was probably instinct and old habits that caused Ellen to wrap her hand around my butt and hold me in the embrace with my erection pushing firmly into her stomach and her breasts into my chest, to steady herself against the rock of the boat, as I surrendered to her the privilege of fumbling for the switch which would turn on the red night light.
And maybe it was a not yet fully awake brain state that caused her to momentarily hold me there and stare into my eyes as the gentle glow of the light lit the room...
"I think we'd better check the impeller."
As we reached the companionway steps up to the cockpit and under which the engine lay, we heard the engine being switched off. Amy on the helm saw my head lift itself over the steps and called out...
"I checked before turning the engine off. There's no water flow."
Now there can be a few causes of that, but the most common was that the cooling water impeller has failed. Something that is a common enough occurrence that a spare or two (or three in my over cautious case) should always be carried.
Standing either side of the steps, facing each other's nakedness, and with Ellen's gaze very much on my erection, Ellen and I lifted the stairs, which are hinged at the top, on the hydraulic struts.
Almost as one, we then ducked under the elevated stairs to inspect the engine bay. The bay itself was clean and dry. Whatever the problem was, it was internal to the engine. Since she was on the right side, I asked Ellen...
"Would you get the spare impeller and screwdriver please?"
The draw in which they were kept was right behind her. She simply swivelled in her toes to turn her crouched down body to face the drawers, then elevated her butt as she reached forward and up to look and reach into the draw.
The result was to present me with a full view of her bent over arse and the bulge of her mons, the somewhat swollen labia showing more than a little sign of arousal; confirmed by the obvious and clearly visible swelling of her clit. I reflected that she, like myself, had just been woken from what might have been a deep sleep.
In any draw, the thing you want is never at the front and it took Ellen quite a while to ferret about in it to extract the necessary repair stuff; all the time her butt and mons was waving about right in front of my face and her arousal was visibly growing. And the sight wasn't doing anything to let my arousal settle.
Finally she had the goods and crouched down next to me again, the bare flesh of her shoulder pressed firmly against mine. As she placed them on the cabin floor under the impeller housing, she looked down at my erection and asked...
"Were you in the middle of fucking Liddy?"
From anyone else, in any other circumstance, the question would sound impertinent at the least. But its directness was pure Ellen and given our history, little more impertinent than asking if I wanted a cup of tea.
"How do you know?"
"It's gunky."
It wasn't the first time Ellen had accused me of presenting to her with a gunky erection. It's just that previously she was a frequently fucked member of the Screw Girls and had every right to look at it, touch it and even demand for it to be cleaned.
I looked down at it, as Ellen no doubt intended as it gave her cover to have a better look at it too. It was still very obviously a full erection, the bell flared as if I was surging it. It glistened and showed obvious evidence of copious bodily fluids, not all of them mine, but...
"I think gunky is a bit tough."
"It is what it is."
With that out of the way, we addressed the question of removing the impeller housing cover to permit an inspection.
This could easily have been a one person job; with Ellen able to do it just as well as me. But Ellen showed no inclination to leave me to it and I sensed she didn't want me to leave it to her.
As I unscrewed the six screws holding on the front plate of the housing, Ellen helped by reaching in and catching each of the small screws in turn to stop them dropping into the bilge and getting lost. That was all good as far as it went.
But instead of reaching in under my arm as one normally would to preform that role, she reached over the top of and then around it, bringing our bodies into even closer contact and causing her breast to rest on my upper arm and her nipple to harden itself up as she brushed it along my bicep or reacted to the movement of my arm as I unscrewed each fastening.
And as she pulled each screw away and laid it gently and carefully on the cabin izmir escortlar floor, she did so between my legs, causing the back of her hand and upper forearm to brush against the tip of my erection.
There was something very Ellen like in this whole behaviour; at least Ellen like in the way it defines our relationship. She wanted some degree of intimacy with me as an outlet for her frustrations. Nothing serious. Nothing that would represent a clear betrayal of her love for her husband. Nothing much more than what she was taking, although I suspected another naked full body hug wouldn't be refused.
Something that acknowledged we were still special to each other and she wasn't just yet another woman among many outside my more intimate relationships with Amy and Liddy. A second tier maybe, but a special second tier reserved all for her; since Issie was more indifferent to our past.
And I wasn't complaining. To have someone as young, beautiful and intelligent as Ellen actually find a need for such intimacy with me was special of itself. There was no doubt in my mind that she did in fact reside in a second tier of relationships; only Amy and Liddy being closer and everyone else -- my own children and grandchildren excepted but in a different way -- coming nowhere near.
As the cover plate came off the housing, it was clear the impeller was the source of the problem. The paddles had all sheared off, rendering it useless.
Ellen reached intimately over me to remove the pin holding the hub on and then to remove the hub itself. After putting the hub on the cabin sole between my legs she reached in and picked out the easily removable pieces of sheared paddles.
With some of them stuck in the inlet and outlet pipes, she again displayed her bare bent over arse to me as she reached a pair of tweezers out of the drawer; using that to pull every last identifiable piece out of the housing.
Then she used those to reconstruct the impeller like a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle. Her purpose was to ensure that every part of the impeller was accounted for to make sure some part of it hadn't wormed its way deeper into the cooling system to cause future problems.
But it was clear her incidental purpose was also to touch me up some more. Any normal person... Let me rephrase that, any person in normal circumstances, would have sat there and reconstructed it between their own legs. She leant over my squatting thigh to reconstruct it between mine; allowing her plenty of opportunity for apparently innocent or accidental intimate contact as her breast rested on my upper thigh and the back of her hand brushed my erection.
Satisfied we had all the parts, we inserted the new impeller, greased it up and restored the front plate; all with enough handling from Ellen to ensure my erection hadn't shrunk a millimetre.
Now it was time to test it; which meant one of us going out and leaning over the aft port rail as Amy started the engine to ensure there was a good flow of water. I turned to Ellen...
.
"Do you want to check it?"
"No, you can."
The alarm might have caused me to rush naked out of bed. But now the engine was off and the boat was sailing gently under canvas, the hurry was over. I decided I wasn't going to expose my naked old man arse and exposed rampant manhood to Shelley and Adam.
Reaching into my master cabin, I grabbed a pair of speedos and my harness/ lifevest combo and put them on. That dealt with the naked arse. And at least the erection was sheathed and the top covered by the lower part of the lifevest. With Ellen still standing there naked and 'accidently' touching me with every rock of the boat or other excuse providing reason, I'd be standing here for an hour before it would go down.
As Ellen helped me lower the steps so I could go on deck, I asked her...
"Will you check the seal around the front plate?"
The reality was, I didn't need to ask her. She knows the drill for this type of running repair better than I do. As I entered the cockpit and headed in the cool night air for which I was underdressed towards the aft quarter, I heard the companionway steps rise again behind me.
Amy on the wheel watched me as I headed her way towards the transom. In the bright moonlight I could see her staring intently at the bulge of the erection in my swimmers, no doubt with my balls all but hanging out of where the leg elastic is pulled open by the stretch of the material to sheath the top of shaft.
As I went to go past her, she put her hand out and grabbed my shoulder...
"Has Ellen been touching you up?"
She would have been able to see that Ellen was topless as Ellen had stood at various stages in or near the companionway. And she knew enough about Ellen's sleeping habits on the boat to guess she had nothing on her lower half too.
"Just accidental contact."
"Sure. I've seen Ellen's accidental contacts. They're usually something like this..."
Amy reached down and curled the palm of her hand around my shaft, her fingers pointing downward and turning around into my crotch to cup my balls and reach inside the leg seam to tickle them. Then she rubbed it up and down, causing my erection to surge uncontrollably.
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