Unexpected Threesome Ch. 06

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Ned's threesome with the young ladies crewing his yacht cont.
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Part 6 of the 59 part series

Updated 12/06/2023
Created 04/20/2017
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Joanmcarthy
Joanmcarthy
1,228 Followers

This is a continuation from my previous "Unexpected Threesome" stories; although you shouldn't need to have read them to enjoy this. As I said before, the story was inspired by actual platonic relationships I observed in operation in similar circumstances. You can decide the likelihood of such a mismatched age relationship developing this way. I've had interesting if mixed comments on the point made in relation to my previous stories.

Indeed, since I've started writing these stories I've become aware that an acquaintance of mine – a decade older than Ned – has been cruising the Pacific with a succession of completely inappropriately aged girlfriends in tow. I might observe that there seems to be a direct correlation between the age difference of the participants and the size of the boat. Maybe the real problem with this story is that Ned's yacht is too small; a tongue in cheek comment in case there are those impervious to sarcasm.

Ned, the owner of a yacht cruising the pacific and now in his early 60's, has unexpectedly found himself seduced by his two long term crew – nubile girls in their late 20's.

As before with these stories, I am indebted to the male friends who have assisted me with relating to the male mind and body; and the red wine that made the conversation flow and loosened lips a bit more than normal. Mind you the internet can be good for researching this stuff too.

*****

The next day Amy was helping Ned repair a small tear in the mainsail. Ned would have preferred getting a sailmaker to do it. But, since they'd arrived in Papeete, he'd had trouble accessing one who could do it in good time.

The hanks of the bottom half of mainsail had been released from the sail track to give Ned access to the torn section and the released portion of the sail had been flaked on the starboard side of the cabin top.

Amy's job was to help him get the torn section laid out completely flat, so that Ned could apply adhesive tape to the tear prior to Ned hand stitching it, without getting a pucker in the sail or the tape in the process. It was always a job easier said than done in the awkward circumstances of doing it on deck, in the wind and over the top of the rest of the sail.

Amy's help was invaluable – indeed critical – but of course, Ned being a mere male, the benefit of her presence was moderated somewhat by the distraction her body caused him, clad as it was in a minimalist bikini. As far as he knew she wasn't actually flaunting herself at him; just dressed as she always had been since her road to Damascus moment a few weeks ago. But she had to position her body weight to pin down the larger mass of the sail while using her hands and the whole length of her forearms to hold the two sides of the tear straight and together, while Ned worked around and in close contact with her to get the tape applied smoothly.

Variously as he did the job that brought a number of particularly distracting parts of her anatomy right in front of his eyes, and under his nose. Most of the time it was her breasts. The small triangles of her bikini top left a wide angle of the inner orbs of her breasts exposed; the slightly raised nipples barely covered by the inner hem and with just a touch of the colour of her areolas showing. As Ned spent a long time trying to accurately position the tape on each side of the sail they sat right in his line of vision.

Only slightly less distracting had been the view along her back and down her bum crack as she bent deeply over the sail as they were trying to suppress and fold it in the first place.

But most distracting of all had been when he'd been almost nose into her crotch. She was sitting on her knees, legs spread wide and bent over the torn section to hold it all together, forcing Ned to more or less crawl up between her legs and arms to get at the last section of the tear. The thing about her bikini bottoms was the way they sat over her mound and through her crotch; they didn't fully cover it by the hem sitting right down into the fold where it joined her upper thigh. Instead they left about 10 to 15mm of flesh exposed each side; a glorious, golden brown arch of crystal clear skin that just screamed 'sex' to him; all with his nose and fingers almost in contact with it as he pressed the tape down.

It took all Ned's willpower not to show a full on boner in his pants by the time he'd finished applying the tape, although nothing could hide the bulge of his partial excitement.

Eventually the taping was finished and Amy was released to be 'on call' to help with turning the sail while Ned applied by hand as neat a line of overlocked herringbone stitching to the tear as he could. With her usual sunning spot across the top of the cabin top occupied by the sail, that left Amy to retreat to the flat area of the port side-deck, where she laid out a number of cockpit cushions to make a comfortable sunbed for herself.

Justifying his decision with the internal argument that the tear was in the front section of the sail and doing so would give him better access to the underside of the torn section, Ned pulled the section needing stitching in front of the mast and clear of the rest of the body of the sail, where he sat down and went to work. But of course it also gave him a clear view of the full length of Amy laid out on her back. As she covered her face with her hat and to all intents seemed to drowse off, that gave Ned ample opportunity to perve in a reasonably guilty free way, even if it did slow the stitching.

Because, as far as Ned was concerned, the problem with Amy – if you want to call it that – was that there was something about her body, something about her, that drove him wild with desire. He'd felt it to a certain extent even while she was always dressed in clothing which made her figure from her neck to her knees resemble little more than an otherwise shapeless rectangular cardboard box. So he knew there was a hormonal or pheromone context to it which went beyond her pretty face.

But once she had thrown off that dressing habit and put her body fully on display it seemed her mere presence was enough to keep him in a permanent state of arousal.

It wasn't that Ned was short of being exposed to semi clad women as he cruised the Pacific. Issie was proof of that. And while he was as partial to admiring them as the next guy, none made him feel like Amy did. All he could put it down to was a particularly compatible genome, even if he did wonder if that wasn't too flattering to himself. Yes, they were both built on a tall slender frame and had honey, sun bleached hair – or once had in Ned's case. But Ned didn't have – and had never had - Amy's clear, golden skin nor those beautifully proportioned, perky breasts.

The three of them – with Issie – had indulged in a wild threesome just this morning before they got up; he'd spent the whole night lying next to her absolutely naked, fully exposed body and yet, just a few hours later, he had trouble taking his eyes off her as she lay there in a bikini.

He wondered just to what extent his perving had gone unnoticed when Amy, with perfect timing as he finished the stitching, but otherwise still lying back with her face covered by the hat, asked him whether he was ready to be helped putting the mainsail back on the mast. Ned demurred. There were a couple of other things he wanted to check while he had access to it. Amy changed the topic.

"Is it the day after tomorrow we're casting off for Raiatea?"

"Yes."

"What time are we leaving?"

Ned realised he hadn't really discussed his plans with the girls yet; something he suddenly felt guilty about. Rather than half shout over the top of the wind and other background noise, he went and sat with his knees folded up to his chest next to Amy's hips on one of the cushions Amy had laid out for herself.

"I want to leave with the top of the tide; so probably about 10 in the morning."

"Will we get there in a day?"

"No, probably not. While it will probably take us about 30 hours of sailing, there's a good chance we'll need to sail off for the second night to let us enter the lagoon in daylight."

"What's the forecast?"

"For the trade winds to continue; so we should have a following wind of about 15 knots."

With Amy's face still covered by the hat, Ned had found the focus of his vision drifting from her breasts to her mound. There was something about it he always found distracting. It was particularly full, womanly and seductive without being plump, continuing in a straight line from her plank flat stomach before turning sharply into her crotch.

In the last 48 hours he'd had that mound naked and fucked, sucked and fingered it on several occasions and yet still its bikini covered shape irresistibly drew his eyes.

Perhaps it was a more compelling sight covered by the bikini than when it was naked. Especially this particular bikini. The plain, unpatterned, black of the bikini bottom perfectly suited the golden colour of her flawless skin that surrounded it. The simple perfection of the smooth spherical segment it created hid the more complex features of her sexual anatomy which lay under its gossamer film covering. The minimalist simplicity of the barely tapered strip of material that, from the narrow waistband which lay just above the top of her mound, ran down through her crotch – leaving those all too tempting strips of delectable exposed flesh before the join with her adorable thighs.

Like the more translucent yellow bikini top she wore it with, it teased and tempted; promised an exposure that never came and offered up something desirable that was just out of sight and reach.

"You can touch it Ned. Play with it. It's not going to bite you."

'Shit' Ned thought. 'She can see me'. He looked more closely at the hat. Light coloured and of thin material; clearly in the bright sunshine she can see through the open weave. She'd seen him staring at her as he'd stitched the sail. Seen the boner in his pants which he'd made not the slightest effort to hide and now she'd seen that his entire focus was on her mound and breasts.

"That's OK Ned. I want you to play with it."

Ned looked down at it again, running his finger back and forth across the soft, silky surface of the bikini; crossing over the leg seam, stroking the flesh below it and back across the top again.

"I gather Issie told you about my fantasies for you? That I want you to unleash your animal on me like you have on her."

"Yes, but I'm surprised that would be attractive to you after Frank."

"I thought that what was holding you back. Frank was an animal, but that's not how he made love to me. As you know, it was entirely selfish sex I got from him. He never did anything that would give me a climax, but he didn't make me feel like I'd driven him wild with desire either. He just wanted the release of sex and I was the vessel he took it in; the knowledge of that was probably why I couldn't cum even if I tried. To give me any acknowledgement of my desirability, to let me feel any pleasure or anything positive about myself, would have reduced his sense of control over me.

I'm not damaged or fragile Ned. I've healed whatever injury Frank did to my spirit; grown wiser as a result. You did a lot to help that healing; in many small ways over the year I've been on the boat and in a very large way over the last few weeks.

Can you understand that?"

Ned shifted his focus momentarily back to the hat covering her face. "Yes. I still feel a fear of hurting you or taking advantage of you; but yes."

Emboldened, as he looked back towards her mound, he ran his fingers vertically down her crease, pushing a fold of the bikini pants material into it.

The knees he had folded up to his chest as he sat next to her were causing his thighs to crush his balls as they were forced outwards by his erection. Unable, in the narrowness of the side deck area, to spread his legs any further apart to give them some room, he repositioned himself, squatting down on his legs; resigning himself to the fact that would expose the full erection pushing up over the waistband of his racing briefs swimwear.

Amy was determined to drive home her point.

"It's not a sense of gratitude towards you that our relationship is built on, it's genuine desire on my part. I know what I want and how to get it and I'm no less partial to wild out of control sex than Issie is.

I know the effect I have on you. I know you have something of an obsession with my body. I like that it drives you crazy with desire. I like you lusting after me. It makes me feel good and desirable. I need that; it's part of the healing from Frank. It's not creepy because I've given you permission to feel that way. With her flirtatiousness and the longer period she's known you, Issie might have your mind, but I know I've captured your body. That's pretty fair in this threesome thing we've got going; but I want to see that – feel it in the way you make love to me. I want to feel you giving vent to that lust.

I didn't think I'd ever have to admit this to you Ned, but I'm not ashamed of it. There's something in our genes that makes us physically compatible. Our bodies just react to each other."

Amy had been trying to spread her legs apart further, but also had immediately come up against the limitations of the space between the cabin top and Ned's legs. Emboldened, she lifted up the leg next to Ned and moved it outside him; causing them both to reposition so that her hips came to be elevated up on Ned's upper thighs while her legs now lay either side of him.

It seemed to Ned his erection grew harder and more anxious. He was now looking straight down at her mound; a deep, wide camel toe ran through the bikini pants as his hand rested near her arse between her legs and he ran his thumb up and down her crease. He could feel the firm button of her engorged clit, the warm void of her aroused sex; see and feel the increasing wetness of her pants.

But Amy had something she wanted to get out and even though her words started to be expressed amidst suppressed moans, she wasn't to be denied this opportunity.

"The day I first came aboard and shook your hand my heart fluttered with that first contact. I can't explain it and I'm certainly human enough to wish you were 30 years younger, but it did and it's never stopped reacting to your physical presence. When I joined the boat I wasn't on the pill and every time I was ovulating I'd be lying in my bed in cross legged frustration wanting to have sex with you.

Frank, I have an English single sex private school education. We're reserved and bottle stuff up. We don't know how to express it. You have no idea how hard it is for me to talk to you like this. I can only do it because I'm imagining I'm just talking to a schoolgirl best female friend about our fantasies in my school dorm days. It's a thin veneer I know. But for the moment it's working and I'm running with it.

I can't flirt like Issie does. It's not my nature. I'm too reserved and haven't had enough practice at it. So it drove me crazy I couldn't get your attention like she could and I was still in too much of a Frank suppressed bubble to recognise that if I went around dressed like a shapeless, androgynous android I was hardly going to drive men wild with desire.

That why I overreacted to that day ashore with Issie. It just reinforced all the frustrations and insecurities I already felt; but that was partly because I couldn't get you.

So you need to unleash the animal on me when I ask for it; as much as I've seen you unleash it on Issie. I need that. If you're hurting me in a way I want you to stop, I'll let you know in clear terms, but don't think every little squeal is a sign of that."

Ned was deeply moved by Amy's honesty; overwhelmed by what he was hearing. Yet the situation was bizarre. They're conversing more like he's giving her a massage than sexually fingering her.

The trouble was she was ripping away all his defensive barriers. In his long years as a senior professional, Ned had often observed married guys lose it over some woman they worked with; heard them wax lyrical about her, often describing in angelic terms someone Ned saw as more of a dragon with nice tits. Often that ended in two divorces, firstly of the original wife and then in time of the new one when the rose coloured glasses fell away and the dragon was seen for what she was.

Ned had protected his own marriage by doing more than just drawing a line under what was right and wrong. If he found a woman alluring he made a point of identifying her faults. It didn't matter whether they were right or wrong, fair or not because it didn't affect his working relationship with her. It just inoculated him against her charms.

Even though he was no longer married, that's what he'd done with Amy. Ned had decided she was too vulnerable, too fragile for him to take advantage of her emotionally, even if he did succumb to her sexual charms. And yet now she was making it clear in terms too clear for him to ignore – in terms that disclosed she knew what the issue was and that it didn't apply to her – that his judgement was wrong. It seemed with Amy that every time he found the inoculating bandage of a fault with her, she ripped it off.

His fingers were now wet with her juices. As he looked up to speak to her, he leaned forward and slipped his hands under her bikini top and teased up her right nipple; transferring her juices to the nipple and then to the cloth covering it; turning it semi-transparent so that the material stuck tightly to the jutting nipple and revealed it at the same time. At the same time he moved his other hand into her crotch to continue stimulating her there; pushing a finger and the cloth which covered it deeply into her sex as he leaned forward.

"You're a perceptive young woman Amy. I am scared of emotionally hurting you if I give full vent to how I feel towards you physically [Ned held back from adding 'and emotionally']; particularly with what I know about your relationship with Frank. I'm almost embarrassed by how much I'm drawn to you, how much I want you, really want you and even more so by how obvious that is to both you and Issie. It just didn't seem right. But I hear what you say.

I'll try and set that aside and let myself go. You know my reservations about letting our relationship get too emotionally involved. I want better for you than that in the long term. But I know that's not what you're talking about.

There's a deep reserve of desire I feel towards you. There always has been."

It was almost like those last words unwound something inside Amy. With a groan her body tensed and Ned could see an orgasm wash through her body; this one devoid of the profane vocals and, apart from a tensing and raising of her hips, the extreme physical reaction she often displayed. She pushed her head back into the cushion, a low prolonged moan escaping her.

She was still in the throes of it when she told Ned...

"Ned. Unleash the animal. Here. Now. Quickly."

Although embarrassed to admit it, those words were magic to Ned. The animal had been growling in its cage for some time. His erection had gone beyond a mere arousal. There was a hardness, a fullness and a sensitivity that was insistent; never letting him forget that he had the body of a beautiful, nubile and aroused woman laid out in front of him. It was stretching out his swimwear with pre-cum seeping copiously through the material and an internal voice encouraging him to action.

Deliberately or not, the spot Amy had chosen was not impossible for sex on deck, even in the crowded anchorage. The Starboard side view was blocked by the mainsail hanging from the boom, that forward by the storm jib sailbag left there for a last minute inspection and practice set before they sailed. Aft, the winch pedestals created a barrier, while next to them to Port, the paddle board was tied to the lifelines and, even though it might not be high enough for what Ned had in mind, with the Easterly wind blowing, the only thing that side of them was empty reef.

Joanmcarthy
Joanmcarthy
1,228 Followers
12