A Threesome in a Covid 19 World Ch. 05

As I intimated, one of the best sex techniques the Screw Girls always had was to tell Ned to go the animal during sex. It had been one way of getting Ned to give vent to his lust even after I'd had to instigate the sex in the first place. It was a demand he just go crazy fucking us, looking to his own pleasure, but ironically it would often result in him pounding us for twenty odd minutes, driving me to multiple brain melting orgasms before his exploded; leaving us both cuddled up drained and exhausted.

And I wasn't the only one to use it. Ellen and Issie had called for him to do it often enough too.

But again, after a bit of a discussion, Ned found he was allowed, not just to instigate sex, but to instigate a full on go the animal on me too.

It worked every time he came down to join me at the pool area. Critical affirmation, excitement, pleasure, and a self-generated hormonal drug high all in one easily provoked action. And after lunch he'd be good for another. Day after day; or at least on any day we were able to find ourselves down at the pool. And with the screaming I do during sex, it was no wonder that Shirley had a fair idea of what my sex life was like, even without knowing what would then happen overnight.

And yes, you can be pedantic and say that Ned must have eventually worked out that when, already dressed in a fuck me bikini, I told him I was going down to the pool area, just maybe he already knew I had a plan for him. Don't be a spoil sport. He still had to grow the wood as I talked to him and make the first move down there; so it still was affirming in the way I needed. Anyway, I like outdoor bikini sex, so it had a double benefit, even if - given how wet Ned's presence makes me - my washing basket seemed to be perpetually full of sex stained bikinis.

But I did try and vary it.

After all, the real message for Ned - which he eventually fully absorbed after much encouragement - was that he should surrender to his lust whenever and wherever he felt it, not fight it. I basically gave him carte blanche to take me any time he had the slightest inkling to do so. I understood that wasn't how most women in his history wanted him to act, but finally persuaded him that, for very good reasons, I was different. I let him know I'd have no trouble giving him a gentle no if he misjudged and would think no less of him if I ever had to; which I never have to date.

The limit on finding variations was partly a lack of imagination on my part, partly my own fetish that holds that a combination of bikinis, water and sex makes for the best sex, partly a respect for public decency and finally an acknowledgement that Ned's well drained balls and constantly teased cock takes some pretty full on provocation to get it boiling over.

Mind you, needing to take account of public decency hasn't stopped us often having wild sex on a remote beach near a country resort we frequent.

One variation came from learning that my ... "cute face, breasts, nipples and mound" weren't the only highly fuckable combination where Ned's obsession with my body was concerned.

Evidently - although I now know since I took a selfie of it - that tidy swollen mound of mine makes for quite a sight when I bend over in the right way in the right clothes. It forms a delightful, not so little, seductive bulge between my legs - all the more so if I can induce a highly visible crease through the centre of it. Combine that with a Brazilian cut bikini bottom that (to complete the picture as Ned describes it).. "is pulled tightly into the fold of my cute little bottom and add a golden skinned, ramrod straight back, kissed by beautiful hair that extends most of the way down to the top of my bikini bottom and a back bisected by the most delicate little lower tie of my bikini top capped by a bow just waiting to be pulled..." and as Ned admitted, it was an irresistible fucking sight.

I didn't realise the vulnerability of the bow in my bikini top to being pulled was such a turn on for men. Still, whatever works is good; at least where Ned is concerned.

The first inkling that I had really unleashed some strange forces in Ned came about a week after our little conversation. I was emptying the dishwasher as Ned cooked the dinner for me, the shortly expected home Liddy and himself.

We'd been shopping beforehand, and the evening was a bit cool, so I was still dressed in a tight pair of highly body conforming yoga leggings worn commando and a tight, deeply vee'd short sleeved t shirt made of very lightweight cotton/spandex. While shopping, I'd had a bikini top under the t shirt to at least slightly suppress the projection of my nipples which the thin material of the t shirt was completely unable to do; but had slipped it off when we got home.

As always seems to be the case with kitchens, Ned was cutting up some chicken fillets right where I needed to access the dishwasher. He stopped and stood back to let me finish the job; evidently clearly enjoying the view as he did so. As I dug stuff out of the back of the bottom rack I suddenly found myself with Ned's hand between my legs from behind, cupping my mound. Next thing I know, his hips pushed against my butt, the bulge of an erection between my bum cheeks and his hands sneaking up my shirt as he kicked the dishwasher door closed.

Ned lifted my shirt up to under my armpits and bent me over the kitchen bench while he kissed up the length of my back while fondling my nipples with one hand and cupping and gently stroking the bulge of my mound between my legs with the other. Playing with them both long enough to feel them strongly respond to his touch and satisfied he'd made his intentions clear with enough time to ensure there was no objection, the next thing I knew was the t shirt was lifted over my head and the back of my leggings were peeled down to halfway down my thighs, I felt his pants drop to the floor and his erection was seeking out the opening to my sex.

He brought a hand around the front of my thighs to guide himself in and then play with my clit.

So just like that I suddenly found myself face down on the kitchen bench, my breasts being fondled by Ned while they rested in amongst the chicken fillets, getting myself passionately fucked, my clit being tickled up and my g spot climatically banged. But importantly, once again there was an uninhibited passion in Ned's action, that dog at a bitch enthusiasm, which was exactly what I'd asked from him.

We didn't tell Liddy what the chicken fillets had been through before getting cooked when they were served to her.

That wasn't the first time we'd fucked on the kitchen bench. But both Ned and I normally have a face to face preference for sex. But that particular incident was the first time Ned instigated that sort of impassioned sex on it. It wasn't the last.

So my little talk made a big difference to our sexual relationship; for me at least. You might think that a year or two - let alone five years - of that would be enough to set aside Frank's poison and that, surely, things could be more 'normal', whatever that means.

But no, 10 years of damage is not that easily undone. Or maybe, as I've said before that is simply an excuse for what has really become an addiction. But the simple fact is, as I get older, I continue to need the reassurance of Ned's unbridled lust towards me.

Of course Ellen's arrival with her toddlers added a level of complication to all that especially since we were all working from home; leaving very little opportunities to get Ned alone in the house. For one thing, making out on the kitchen benchtop had to go, as did our previous frolics in front of the roaring winter fireplace in the lounge room.

She first arrived as a houseguest - occupying with her toddlers and au pair a far wing of Ned's large house after an unfortunate press photo of Harry and Ellen and their kids made it clear he'd left a modelesque widow and subjected her to a barrage of obscene calls and unwelcome visits.

Perhaps selfishly, I very quickly ensured Ellen's arrival didn't change things more than they had to, and especially down at the pool. If Ned and I were alone at the pool - and since we were working from home during a COVID lockdown, my objective was to make that be the case frequently - as far as I was concerned it was still on. Ellen's heard it all before, the toddlers are too young to know and the au pair is old enough to deal with it. Ned was at first reticent, but because he understood how important it was to me that he surrendered to his lust, he got into it again after a brief chat. Once we started love making and they heard my orgasmic screaming, they knew to stay away.

There was just something I loved about being able to just lay there on the pool lounge, me putting on a show of merely innocently chatting to him while I watched an erection grow in his swimwear getting bigger and harder until Ned could no longer resist the urge to take me; rolling around on the lounge pashing before he ripped my bikini off and buried his face in my tits and his cock in my sex to drive me to something like an apoplexy of orgasms.

The real complexity that arose from Ellen being accepted back as a sexual and emotionally involved partner of Ned's is that each of Ellen and I have our own little special connection with Ned. Don't get me wrong. He loves us both, looks after us both and makes great love to both of us.

But Ellen's is an intellectual bond. They just get each other in a special way, revelling in each other's mere presence and able to endlessly converse about a wide range of topics, which is why they could remain so close even after Ellen got married. So while they're deeply into each other sexually too, that's not where Ellen has her competitive advantage.

My special connection, my hook on and what I feel is my competitive advantage with Ned if you will - other than being his loyal and faithful lover for the last seven years - is his obsession with my body. It is essentially sexually driven.

So my automatic, unthinking reaction to Ellen being part of the family is to want more and more intense, lust driven, affirming sex from Ned - just when he has to deal with Ellen's demands too.

Now we are back to having Ned share his nights with two women in his bed, one either side of him, I want him facing me as much as possible. More than that, I want him to again sleep penetrated into me. That's something, a little trick if you will, we developed on the yacht when the competition for Ned's attention was more intense, and Ned had previously indulged a few of the girls with it, including me. But had become less important when I had him to myself. Now it was important to me again.

It was not about orgasms, it's all about intimacy and desire. To be able to cuddle up to him and have our bodies joined as we drop off to sleep and awake to an erotic dream in the middle of the night to find him still there. Or even, on a few occasions, for us both to be woken as a powerful wet dream causes Ned to fill my sex with the seed of his well-drained balls and to have him tell me later he was dreaming of making love to me by the pool.

Of course, I'm not the only one in this relationship. It isn't and can't be all about me.

Ellen has been a real sweetie. She's immensely grateful I organised for her to rejoin our family and no longer feels the same competitive jealously that she once did on the yacht. As much as she craves sex with Ned, she understands my needs - more so because she knows my history - and is more than willing to stand back and let them be indulged by Ned. In short, if there's now a problem, it's with me, not with the others.

And as for Ned, how could I possibly ask for more? For all the times guys get tagged as merely sex obsessed fiends, the reality is they have their limits; especially as they get older. A few might envy Ned, but many would shudder at the thought of having such constant demands for sex made upon them, let alone having their sleep disturbed by an over-clingy woman.

But the nights weren't enough. More than ever, I needed him to drool in his lust over my body. More intensely and more often.

The practical problem was that I was almost full time cock teasing him before Ellen rejoined us. Goodness, even after she was sharing our house before she became part of the family again, I'd be playing with Ned's cock in front of her and the au pair as we all sat in the lounge room chatting or watching TV, making him sit there with a full, on display, sometimes exposed, boner.

Ellen of course had seen it all before and knew what it was all about, but I certainly had some explaining to do to the au pair.

So the scope to ramp it up was limited and the places I could now do it, more limited still.

During the period from early spring - when Ellen rejoined the family - to late autumn, increasingly the pool became the spot. Ned might be retired, but I'm still working, so mid-week, my morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea breaks would be spent in or by the pool with Ned and the only time he didn't have an erection was when he'd just cum.

He knew what it was all about and what he needed to do, and willingly did it in spades.

Not just on the poolside sun-bed; although that took a terrible beating to the point we had to replace the mattress. He took me in the water, bent over the side of the pool and on the pool steps. He went down on me under the water - only coming up for air - and I gave him head underwater too.

He even stashed our dive tanks and regulators by the pool, using them to lay me flat on the floor of the pool, sucking me out between breaths out of his regulator before fucking me silly there. You wouldn't believe the amount of bubbles I was blowing as I climatically screamed into my regulator with I'm sure the bubbles carrying the screams up to the surface and all the way to Shirley's place.

I made a point of reciprocating that one. Taking him down to give him head as he lay on the floor of the pool later the first day he did that and every time after.

And now, showing how much he understands my needs, he's taken to walking into my home office while I'm sitting there working, often in a still damp bikini, and bending me over the desk for a fuck. It's a strange sensation moaning away in the middle of sex while your boss leaves a message on the land line answering machine next to your head.

Winter is something we'll have to deal with when it comes. That little resort beach up North we make out on could see a lot of action.

So, the previous two to three times a day have increased to three to four and sometimes five. And that's not counting the nightly threesomes with Ellen or the sleep time penetrations. Nor for Ned the one on ones that Ellen seeks from him.

As I said, I'm making him work harder than a porn star. How he does it, I don't know. It's lucky he's retired or he wouldn't even have the time, let alone the energy.