Unexpected Threesome Ch. 27

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I wasn’t sure why Ellen was so keen to start getting ready for dinner. Even allowing for an Amy like preparation time, there was probably another three quarters of an hour before we’d even want to hit the showers.

Mind you, that sort of sex in the tropics does leave you all hot and sweaty. As she got up off me, I felt compelled to ask…

“Isn’t it a bit early? Would you fancy a jump off the deck for a swim first?”

She stood naked over me, crossed her arms and looked down at me coyly.

“Maybe. That depends. Is it too soon to be refilling your testosterone bucket yet?”

I grinned at her.

“What? Do you think that for a certain time period after sex I’m completely inoculated against your charms? It doesn’t work like that. The fact my dick can’t react doesn’t mean my head’s not absorbing every bit of sexual tease you throw at it. Anyhow, will you really only go for a swim if you can use it to turn me on?”

She swayed her hip provocatively.

“No. I might go for a swim anyway. I just wanted to know how much I can turn it on for you while we do.”

“You can turn it on as much as you like. And you’ll be turning me on if you do; whether my cock reacts or not. But do it because you enjoy it, because that’s the only time it really works for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You mean the ‘work for me’ part? It’s a bit like we were talking about with Tash. Any sexuality that isn’t offered freely and willingly and maybe even enthusiastically doesn’t really have the same effect on me.”

Ellen put on a mock posh English accent, holding a hand out to me.

“Oh, aren’t you the proper gentleman. Let me help sir off the bed where he’s just rooted the arse off some poor innocent young lady half his age.”

As I took her hand and she pulled me off the bed, I put on the same accent…

“Yes, well, the arse was freely offered up for rooting. And as for the lady, she is that. But I don’t think she’s poor and I’d have some doubts about innocent. Mind you she does have a remarkably cute arse.”

“Thank you kind sir. Compliments are always appreciated.”

We were soon swimming in the water under our bungalow. Ellen was as good as her word in trying to sexually tease me. She has a natural playfulness to her which makes it all come delightfully easy. I had her breasts, crotch and arse constantly flashed across my field of view – each of them covered in that tiny, moulded on bikini – while I was touched up unmercifully. It wasn’t that long before she got a physical reaction from me either; which somewhat pleased her.

But I hadn’t realised before, the extent to which she was actually teasing herself up as well. Certainly I now noticed how often both her nipples and crotch were brushed across some part of my anatomy. The trouble always was that a nipple reaction is ambiguous; cold or arousal? It’s not always obvious when you’re swimming, even in the tepid waters of the tropics.

But there was no ambiguity when, with me standing in neck deep water, she floated herself with her calves on my shoulders and her crotch held somewhat artificially high. Yes, she was playfully giving me a visual display to tease me, but the real tease was the obviousness of her own arousal.

There were those two swollen ridges running through the fine, tautly stretched material of the gusset with the pronounced hollow between them. And in the centre of that hollow sat a fairly small but conspicuous bulge where her engorged bud was pushing it out.

I flicked my finger lightly against it and was rewarded with a squirm and a, ‘Oh that’s nice’.

That just encouraged me to do it some more. She held herself still; although I could sense its effect on her when she must have pushed her head deeper into the water to raise both her crotch and breasts higher. When I took the bulge between two finger tips and tweaked it gently, there was a little moan, accompanied by a slow motion pulsing of what I took to be her pelvic floor muscles. Whether that was to enhance her arousal or slow it down I wasn’t sure.

And it’s not as though all this wasn’t having an effect on me. There was a raging erection lying in my swimmers and having started from an awkward angle and been captured by the stretchy material was now lying at what the girls call ‘full horizontal’.

Framed by her shapely thighs, my only perspective was of her crease, now clearly swollen in arousal, barely covered by the narrow, moulded on material of her bikini gusset. Either side of that, a strip of delightfully provocative crotch flesh lay between the leg hem of her bikini pants and her lovely thighs. Above that, on the horizon of my vision, her breasts seemingly towered out of the water, the volcanic cones of her nipples rising out of them.

The temptation to drop her crotch onto my cock and pound it some more, even barely 40 minutes after we’d finished having sex was certainly there. But of course, we were in somewhat public view and that wasn’t really Ellen’s game plan. I could only get away with playing with her clit the way I ataköy anal yapan escort was because of the angle at which we were placed to any external viewer.

If Ellen wanted to top up what she calls my testosterone, it was working. I could almost feel my balls filling up again. I was just contemplating pulling aside the gusset and eating her out when she suddenly squirmed and pulled my hand aside as a prelude to dismounting me.

“Getting a bit heated up were you.”

“God yes. I was going for a bit of edging, but I nearly went off again.”

“What’s edging?”

“What I’ve been doing all afternoon and trying to get you to do it too; going to the edge of an orgasm and then stopping to start all over again.”

“Is it really better in the end if you save yourself? After all, you girls can have multiple orgasms. It’s us guys who need to edge because we go all limp and useless after we come.”

“‘Save myself? You make me sound like a virgin bride. But yes, in the right conditions I think it can; in the sense of letting a monster orgasm build. And a romantic dinner is definitely one of them.”

It wasn’t long before it was time to get ready for dinner. Ellen took the first shower, emerging naked from the bathroom to free it for me while she completed her dressing in the bedroom.

When I emerged from the bathroom, showered and shaved, I found a goddess waiting for me.

Like Amy, her long blonde hair had been done up and blow dried in a way you just can’t achieve on a yacht. Gone was the salty surfer look. With a cute little fringe, there were kiss curls in the layered cut that framed her face and the faintest touch of pink lipstick was the only makeup on her otherwise flawless skin. The rest of her hair had been blow dried and heat wanded into a series of perfectly formed loose waves that cascaded all the way down to the lower part of her back.

But that dress had me once again staring in slack jawed arousal.

She must have tied the halter neck string tie a smidgen longer, because it seemed to me the triangles that covered her breasts were an inch or two lower than they were when she tried it on in the shop. It was only the slightest exaggeration to say the peak of each triangle now only barely covered her nipple. Which in turn exposed a whole lot more side, cleavage and under boob flesh.

Below that the long dress clung to her shapely figure, except where the navel height split on her right thigh caused it to open and reveal the full length of her shapely leg and quite a bit of her hip. There was not the slightest possibility she was wearing panties. She had her right leg thrust a little bit forward again, accentuating the split; although this time, while it revealed every millimetre of her thigh right into her crotch, the front flap draped in a way that fully covered her mons – just.

Mind you, it would only take a gust of wind to reveal everything.

“My god, you look absolutely stunning. Beautiful. You’re leaving the coward buttons open?”

“I said I would. Any problems?”

“Not from me, but looking as beautiful as you do, you’re going to leave a trail of men having heart attacks in your wake.”

“Lucky I’m a doctor then.”

“If you lean over them like that, it’s certainly not going to settle their heart rates back down.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Ellen stood there watching me as I completed my dressing process; the white chinos, collared short sleeved button up shirt and deck shoe assemblage I put on being totally inadequate to be seen accompanying the starlet waiting for me.

As we walked hand in hand down to the resort area two middle aged couples passed us going the other way. Out of the corner of my eye I could see both men transfixed by and drooling over Ellen; their wives conveying what might be thought to be a look of disdain; although that could well be because of the age difference. From one of them there echoed back angry words…

“You were staring at her…”, with the sounds of an ongoing argument fading with distance.

The staff were the familiar group; those who knew the story of Amy’s orgasmic scream attracting a visit from the manager, of her teasing ‘best orgasm of my life’ explanation to him and who now saw me turn up to dinner with a second girl, no less stunning than the first. A heady mixture of judgement, flirtation and arousal hung heavily in the air; although I thought Ellen, not being fully briefed on the background, may have been more oblivious to it.

It was one of the local waitresses who’d flirted with me that morning who showed us to our seats; the same seat as last night where we sat on two adjoining sides of the table with a view out the window. On the other side of the room I could see the young man, who fallen into a fluster over Amy last night, trip on a chair as he watched us move to our table.

As we were left alone with the menus, Ellen leaned into me.

“Ned. Is there something I don’t know?”

“What ataköy bdsm escort do you mean?”

“I don’t know. There’s something a bit weird about the staff, even allowing for the fact they might have seen you with Amy and the dress I’m wearing.”

“You’re very perceptive!”

“Oh, oh, what is it?”

I told Ellen about the manager being called to our bungalow over Amy’s scream and Amy telling him it was because of the best orgasm of her life and the way that had clearly been spread around the staff.

“That explains the way the women are flirting with you. What dress did Amy buy?”

“I didn’t think they were really flirting that much. An ice blue halter neck mini.”

“That waitress did everything but lift her skirt and actually offer her pussy and her pareo was wrapped so low on her tits it was ready to just fall off. You had a booking, so she knew you’d be here and on her table. And I saw Amy in that dress when she tried it on with Liddy. It was stunning, so she’s going to be remembered. Goodness only knows what they think of you. Two different women in a row. The women who work here are going to be queuing up for you. Next time we do this maybe we should use different hotels.”

Ellen thought for a moment, then added with an amused grin as she stroked my face.

“Do you want me to do a screamer tonight and attract the manager again? We’ll have hordes of local women swimming out to the yacht on its mooring to have a turn with you.”

“I don’t think we want to do that. Anyway, you have your own fans. That young gentleman over there nearly dropped a stack of plates when he was distracted by you.”

Ellen glanced across at him.

“I remember him from lunch. He was a sweetie. We’ll give him a few feel good thrills to make his day.”

“Are you going to tease him?”

“No, it’s you I’m wanting to tease. But a few little incidental peeks can lift a man’s spirits.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a girl express a willingness to do that before.”

“It’s probably the cocktails still talking. I donno, it just doesn’t seem like such a big thing that a guy gets a flash of your nipples. Anyway, you’ve got me feeling randy and sexy and a bit uninhibited.”

While we’d been talking, the young gentleman concerned had started approaching the table. Just in time, Ellen saw him and we changed the topic. He stood between us and asked if we’d like to order a drink. Ellen looked up at him and smiled, then leant across to me…

“I wouldn’t mind having another cocktail while we choose our food.”

As she bent over to lean in to me, gravity separated the triangles of her dress completely from her breasts. Sitting alongside, I could see both perky orbs in clear view capped by somewhat tightened nipples. The waiters eyes popped out and his previous attempt at a decorous manner turned into a slack jawed stare. I thought Ellen’s hair might have covered his view, but from the look on his face and the bulge that came up in his tane, it was clear it hadn’t covered much.

I ordered two cocktails and, in no great hurry, the waiter left to get them.

“I think he got more than a peek.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No, just interested in how relaxed about it you are.”

“Well it’s partly my mood, but I suppose it’s also a reaction to how often as a doctor I’ve come across women who regard their modesty as some sort of precious object to be locked up. We’ve sort of sexualised women’s bodies by declaring they shouldn’t be seen. Most tropical or semitropical primitive societies didn’t cover their breasts and it’s not as though their men went around in a permanent state of arousal. Indeed some of them didn’t have clothing at all.

There are a few creeps and bad people out there, so there are times that, for my own safety I know not to attract attention. But I also think some girls get a bit too precious about guys following their natural instincts in wanting to chat up an attractive girl. I’ve had some pretty nice human interactions with guys who have cat called me or randomly tried to pick me up. They might have been complete bogans and just not my style so I wasn’t going to give them my number, but I’ve often come away feeling better for having engaged them nicely. Sometimes it’s even made my day.”

As she’d been speaking, she’d continued to lean into me; partly to let her talk in a quieter voice and keep the conversation private. But very quickly she’d also taken the chance to put her hand on my thigh; slipping it higher until it was firmly into my crotch.

As the waiter came back with the drinks, she sat upright again, innocently taking her hand back. The waiter took his time removing each drink from the tray and placing it in front of us; more so as he bent over Ellen with hers.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Raphael, I’ve got this!”

I turned around. It was the waitress who’d showed us to the table. I’d wondered whether Raphael had been trespassing table wise. It seemed he had. He slunk off letting the young ataköy elit escort lady slip into the spot between Ellen and myself. I’d been too distracted by Ellen to pay much attention to her before, but now I had a closer look.

She was standing square on to me, her legs slightly apart and, like this morning, with her pareo hitched incredibly high. Not only did it highlight her long shapely legs, it suggested a flash of her panties- if that’s what they wear under those things – was only millimetres away. And as Ellen had observed, the top of it hung almost from the outward most projection of her breasts, showing a deep cleavage and leaving one wondering how long it would be before it just fell off. A name tag revealed her name was Gloria.

“Would you like to order?”

“Actually Gloria, we’ve been too distracted to look at the menus yet. Could you come back in a few minutes please?”

“Of course.”

Ellen leaned back into me; instinctively putting her hand back on my thigh.

“You flirt.”

“What’dya mean?”

“The way you called her by her name and beamed a smile at her. She positively blushed a rosy glow.”

“That was just being nice.”

“Surrrre.”

We turned to the menus and a few moments later Gloria was retreating away with our orders; although not before having bent a bit too low than was strictly necessary to pick up the menus and having flashed me a look down her cleavage in the process.

This time as Ellen leaned into me, she first took my hand off the table and put it on her thigh. I quickly discovered that the split in her dress was letting a flap of it sit outside of each of her thighs. Under the table her inner thighs, mons and lower stomach were completely exposed right up to her navel. Even with the long drape of the tablecloths which had largely hid her fondling of me, it was lucky she was sitting facing a wall.

She put her hand on my thigh, then seemed to have second thoughts as she took it back to reposition my hand onto the flesh of her lower stomach. She induced a little movement in it, which I took to be a suggestion I should stroke up and down in the way I knew she liked. Then her hand settle back on my upper thigh.

“See, I’m not the only one willing to flash my tits; although I think her intention is more serious than mine.”

“What? Who?”

“Come on! Unless she was wearing some sort of bandeau bra – and I couldn’t see any evidence of that – I bet you got at least a flash of nipple, or at least of areola sitting atop those perky projections.”

I raised my eyebrows in acknowledgement of the truth of what she’d said.

“Don’t worry Ned. Working in the Pacific has reinforced a view I’ve long had that in the so called first world west we’re slowing losing the concept of what it means to be a human. We’ve got so many rules and inhibitions that the relationship between men and women – especially in my age group – is just losing any real perspective of what’s normal. Don’t get me wrong, women must have ultimate control over their bodies, but it’s just crazy we’ve raised a generation of snowflake women who dissolve into post trauma stress if a guy tries to chat them up. And now that regularly gets defined as sexual harassment even if it’s just once, if the girl regarded it as unwelcome.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little?”

“Maybe. But I suppose what I’ve seen when I’m out here is, not just unreconstructed men who are willing to admit they find a girl attractive, but more importantly much stronger women who can banter back with the guy and give as good as they get to arrive at the outcome they want. When I compare that with some of the snowflake women as victim narrative I saw at Uni and still see online, I just think that feminism has actually resulted in weaker women, not stronger ones.

I know there are some parts of the world where women really are repressed and made virtually the servants of their males, but that wasn’t Australia. Somehow in correcting some of the issues that existed in the 50’s we’ve overshot the mark and ended up with something far less attractive than even back then.”

“It sounds like something you feel pretty strongly about.”

“Well, as a woman I can say these things, so if I believe them I feel I should when I can. If you said them you’d be written off as a male chauvinist pig.”

“I’d have to say that my many women friends at Uni in the late 70’s were pretty formidable. I certainly wasn’t aware of them being victims. But then I had to allow for the fact I wasn’t one of them and they might have had a different view.”

“Didn’t you ever talk to them about these things?”

“It just wasn’t such as issue. I certainly heard some of them talk about seducing the younger male tutors and lecturers and the shenanigans in colleges, but it never came across as women as victims. Most of them seemed equal players in the game. It was something of a time of sexual liberation and they just came across as wanting to be part of it.”

“Maybe they were.”

“I don’t know. The narrative has changed over time and it’s hard to go back and analysis what I recall of the times.”

Ellen took her hand off my thigh and put it over the top of the one that had been stroking up and down the bare flesh of her lower stomach, pushing it down to the turn of her mons. I took the message to be that she wanted me to finger her.

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