A Threesome in a Covid 19 World Ch. 06

Half over her, with a leg between her lower thighs, I penetrated her with two fingers to play against her g spot while sucking one nipple and playing with the other with the spare hand. Sucking Amy's nipples is a delight in itself. The volcanic shape of her puffy areola and the towering size of her fully hardened nipple means you can get it deeply enough into your mouth to roll it with your tongue against the roof of your mouth; erotic enough from my point of view, orgasm inducing to her. As I brought my thumb up to rub against her clit, every erogenous zone in Amy's already sexually charged body was being strongly stimulated.

The result was predictable, having been achieved many times before. With merely a succession of increasingly quick breaths and without even having time to go through the quivering legs stage, Amy came with a loud cry.

What happened then had been practiced many times before. Amy half turned towards me and in a moment my erection was being pushed rapidly, but without the slightest resistance, into those wet silky folds of her vagina. There I felt my newly introduced manhood being delightfully pummelled and squeezed by the powerful contractions of the orgasm I'd just induced in her; something that felt wonderful to me and, she tells me, prolongs and intensifies her own orgasm.

Surprising though it then might seem to younger men, I didn't then just thrust my aching erection to my own orgasm. There was much, more subtle, pleasure to be had with her first.

There is a delight in itself in being penetratively entwined with Amy's body like I then was and I was in no hurry to bring it to an end. We pushed hard against each other to deepen my penetration to the maximum possible, the base of my shaft hard against her pubis and the tip of my manhood pushed softly against her cervix.

My shaft was intimately embraced within her, bathed in and nourished by the copious juices of her body. I ran my hands through her hair and down her back; feeling the still youthful beauty of her skin. She reciprocated, stroking my face and running her hand down to my butt which she pulled against her as a reminder to stay hard into her.

We can do this for ten, fifteen often twenty minutes, our actions negating the needs for any words as we caress the other.

But sometimes there are emotions within me that I feel the need to express and Amy's the same. They may not be new. They might have been expressed many times before. But they are still worth expressing. I always think back to a song of my youth with the line...

"Sometimes when we touch, the honesty's too much", a sort of overwhelming emotion.

In this case it was me who broke. I kissed her on the cheek and blurted out...

"Oh my god, you're so beautiful, I can barely keep my hands off you. I love you so much."

"Well Ned, at the moment, your hands seem to be the least of the issues. But as I've said before, don't keep your hands off me. Surrender to your feelings. But still, it always makes me feel good when you speak so lovingly like that. I love you too Ned. More than I know is comprehensible to you."

She was right about being incomprehensible to me. I'm nearly twice her age and she has the personality and looks to get any man she wants. I know she appreciates the love and care I give her, and the sex, but I'm never sure whether I should feel guilty that her attachment to me is a little driven by a fear she can't replace that and might make another bad decision.

Words crashed together inside my head, trying to express my feelings. But they'd all been used before. She knew I loved her enough not to bind her too me if she found a more age appropriate love. After all, that's what Ellen and Issie did. And I know she's completely unmotivated to do that.

Instead we lapsed back into a caressing silence.

These sessions of long penetrative engagement aren't new. When the polygamous relationships first started on the yacht, the Screw Girls would use them in what felt like games of competitive possession of me; with perhaps an undertone of clashing copulins thrown in. They'd want to sleep penetrated by me; an interesting concept I was more than happy to indulge them with.

The girl initiated ones came and went, with Amy reviving a version of them when Ellen first rejoined us.

When I initiate them, I'm clearly not competing with anyone else. For me it is a prolonged period of shared intimacy with someone I love. As far as I can tell they enjoy them too; they certainly don't start bouncing up and down on me to ramp things up.

The body contact, caressing and stroking are all very nice. And their embrace of my hardened shaft in their vagina is delightful. But there's something more happening.

I've read that, if you lie with a woman in a prolonged penetration, she produces copulins that travel down your shaft and invade your gonads and from there spread to your brain to positively influence your behaviour towards them. I can't attest to how scientifically proven that is, but I do know that as I lay there I could feel Amy's vagina surround my shaft with a sort of mucus that held my shaft in place. And as much as I could feel the leak of precum, I'm sure I could feel an exchange of fluids moving in the other direction too.

Whatever is happening down there, I love the feeling of it.

And there's not the slightest doubt I come away from such engagement putty in their hands; wanting to comply with their every wish. And loving them all the more for it.

Just occasionally, as Amy's hand caressed my bum, she'd pull it upwards. In doing so she'd initiate a short session of 'push it in harder', where we grind our pubis's together, not really deepening what was already a full penetration, but certainly awakening our more carnal desires again.

I'd feel Amy's pelvic floor muscles squeeze around my shaft as the base of my shaft circled firmly against her pubis. I suspect it was stimulating her cervix with micro movement of the tip of my shaft, but was never really sure of where the pleasure for her was in those push it in harder moments.

After maybe ten minutes, I sensed Amy had a renewed need for sexual release, even if I wasn't yet ready to bring the session to an end with my own. Or maybe I just felt like fingering and sucking her again.

Without withdrawing from full penetration, I opened a gap between our bodies, arching my back so I could suck her nipple and slipping a hand down between us until I could finger her clit.

Amy put her hand on the back of my head - now over her breast - and let out a prolonged low moan as I raised her nipple back to full hardness again and slid my fingers back and forwards alongside her firm sensitive bud.

Pushed by my tongue, the nipple rolled willingly around the roof of my mouth as my lips massaged the base of the swollen puffy areola on which it sat.

Perhaps she was sedated somewhat by our long period of gentle intimacy, but her progression to orgasm wasn't as demonstrative as was normally the case for Amy. Her moans continued as a soft lowing while, pinned down by the shaft buried deep inside her, her lower body seemed to relax into the stimulation instead of tensing up with it.

But as she came, I had the delightful feel of her vagina clamping on my shaft, releasing it, then continuing to pummel it with her contractions. Awash with a new flood of oxytocin through her system, Amy pulled me over on top of her and passionately kissed me, grinding her pubis against mine as she did so.

For a little while Amy seemed content to relax back under me offering me pecking kisses and fondling hands; although my responses were hindered by now being completely on top of her and not wanting to crush her with my full weight.

I was just contemplating rolling back into a half over position, when Amy started grinding against me again. We've made love often enough now for me to know it was her signal that it was time to ramp up the action.

Almost reluctantly, I rose up on outstretched arms over the gorgeous female body under me. Amy's demands have meant, if nothing more, my well drained balls show some stamina when asked to perform. But the missionary position will still bring me to the fastest orgasm, even if it also offers the best.

I started slowly, breaking the mucus moorings that her vagina had laid down to capture my manhood. Long, slow thrusts, meant to give me time to saviour the feelings being transmitted to my brain by my highly sensitised shaft. I could feel the rock like hardness of my manhood as it slid ever so pleasurably against the front wall of her vaginal opening.

Whatever stamina and endurance you think you might have, there are some days you end up going off like a cheap cracker, others where you seem to be able to go forever. As I realised this was more likely to be an extended play version, I started thrusting at Amy with more enthusiasm; grunting with the efforts.

Amy's hands were on my butt, encouraging me to ever more vigorous efforts.

Under me, her breasts were wobbling in a delightful and provocative manner. For my pleasure, rather than any deliberate intention to stimulate her, I arched my back down to suck her nipple without losing any depth of maximum penetration.

Doing this has always raised in my mind the thought that, from the side, I must look like a dog going at a bitch; my upper body pinned by my mouth on her breast while all the action happens by swivelling my hips rapidly back and forwards. That's not to say it's not delightful, with her tall nipple being rolled against the roof of my mouth while my shaft pumps away in her wondrously responsive body. Just that it might look like very primitive and animalistic sex.

But it seemed that little extra stimulation was all Amy needed to get her really going too. I'm not kidding when I describe Amy's body as wondrously responsive. For a man brought up with the belief that you could only bring a woman to climax by stimulating a number of very specific sites, to then make love to a woman who is in the minority who seem to be able to have non-specific vaginal orgasms too is being in sexual heaven.

It escapes me how that arsehole abusive former partner of hers could have gone ten years without once having brought her to anything near an orgasm and yet, for me, she's multi-orgasmic with a seemingly endless list of potential orgasm triggers. And that's not to suggest I'm any great lover. As Amy says, 'that's the power of feeling truly loved'.

As Amy came, she lifted her hips into me and squeezed me tightly as a prelude to her contractions. And screamed of course.

I thought her squeeze would do me, but while I felt a little bit of a boil up, it wasn't yet terminal.

I lifted myself up on outstretched arms again and kept thrusting. I now had Amy in that sequence she gets into which seems like one continuous, never ending, and very noisy orgasm. Even she can't tell me if it's one on-going one or a stream of them.

But eventually the end had to come. Little warning tendrils of extreme pleasure ran up and down my shaft. With the prolonged penetration and equally long thrusting, with me in my preferred position, this by all rights should be a monster. I adjusted the angle of my thrusting, sliding my shaft along the front wall of her vaginal opening to maximise my pleasure.

The grunt which accompanied my release nearly matched Amy's screams. I jerked myself hard into her and held it there while rope after rope of my seed shot against her cervix; my legs quivering. Overcome, I collapsed to rest my head face down next to Amy's on the cushion and groaned loudly as the orgasm just kept giving; eventually having to turn my head away from Amy's to avoid deafening her.

It finished with what seemed like a number of little mini-after climaxes which had me shaking and shuddering as the last vestiges of my seed were seemingly squeezed from my balls and implanted in Amy.

It would be fair to say that Amy was impressed enough by the display that it compensated her for any slight caused by my not quickly ripping her clothes off and banging away at her with more lustful desperation.

But the clothes ripping was still important to her.

When we reconvened down on the pool couch after she'd finished work, there couldn't be any thought of holding back on my lust.

Almost as soon as I was hard - and that was basically as soon as we started making out - I had her stripped out of her bikini and was kneeling upright between her legs giving her what the girls christened as a g spot banger. That's where I lift her hips up to the point my bent down shaft is raking strongly against her g spot.

With me being able to look down and intimately watch as my shaft slides into and out of her body and the fact that she's so lightly in contact with the couch that her body completely rag dolls to my thrusting, throwing her breasts around in the most provocative manner, the whole thing simply drives my lust to ever greater heights.

As for Amy, she's quickly in one of her states of continuous and very vocal orgasm. The whole thing continues until either I boil up, or, as Amy puts it, she knows her vaginas going to be broken if she goes any further and she brings me down to lie on her to finish.

Of course, Amy is only one of the three woman in my life. They all have emotional and physical needs that can't be ignored.

In the love, dedication and constancy she has offered me, Amy has earned more than her share of attention, but I'm no less sensitive to the others.

In a way, meeting Ellen's needs presents the greatest challenge.

You can see within her the interaction of the different emotions that are necessarily associated with what she is going through.

There's the love she felt for her late husband and the father of her two young daughters and the guilt she now feels for so quickly ending up back in my bed. All I can do about that is reassure her that the love she still feels for him, and the sense of loss at his passing, is good and normal and can be nurtured by her without any sense of betraying my love in the process.

There is no easy answer to guilt.

Do I take the lead in physical interaction to give her the camouflage of surrender instead initiation, or do I give her space to let her take the lead in instigating sex to let her process the tug of war between meeting her needs and moderating her guilt? By nature I fall into the latter category; giving her absolute control. But I'm never really sure that isn't just the coward's way out.

On the yacht all those years ago, Ellen was as sexually demanding as Amy. Indeed, in many ways the friendly sexual competition was largely between those two and the competition was largely by way of seeing who could get the most sex from me.

Since then she's been through marriage, motherhood and widowhood with all the day to day challenges that life throws in front of you.

She doesn't feel the need to compete with Amy anymore and indeed, since she shares our bed most nights, will often lie there and just watch as I make out with Amy. So her sexual needs presently stand at about four times a week, with an occasional night time threesome thrown in, instead of the several times a day that was the case on the yacht.

But the other emotion I can see her struggling with is an acceptance that she's back as a fully accepted member of the family - with all the rights that entails - instead as some sort of interloper there on sufferance. If I was in her position, I'd feel the same. She left our polygamous relationship (with my full encouragement and support) to find her own love and marriage. Since then, Amy, Liddy and I entered into a sort of commitment ceremony cementing the intended permanency of our relationships. Putting it as she might most pejoratively see it, now when things go wrong for her she's back, having missed five years of relationship development.

The difficulty is convincing her that's not how any of Amy, Liddy or I feel about it.

Through those five years, Ellen was always close to us; part of the 'team', so to speak. We shared her joys and tribulations. We never ceased to love her and, frankly, there never ceased to be a mutual sexual and intellectual frission between Ellen and myself.

We all accept her as a fully-fledged part of the family with all the rights that entails.

There was, indeed, there is, just so much about Ellen that is delightful. But one of her very endearing habits was, when she got just a little bit tipsy, trash talking and dominating me into sex. It was just wonderful to see a woman express such unabashed confidence in herself. Selfishly, I yearn to see that side of Ellen re-emerge and might even have tried to create the situation where a few drinks might have unleashed her inner spirit. But it's not because I want better sex with her. Once we get started the sex is nearly as good as ever. No, it's because, to be able to unleash that part of her would be the final indication she's reached a point of comfort with where she is in life. And that's what I really want for her.

At the moment, her confidence seems to come and go. There have been times she's even interjected herself into sex between Amy and myself to make it a threesome, but, ignoring what might happen as were actually sharing a bed overnight, they are rare. Much more often, sex comes about because of a very timid request from her for some personal time.

This morning was pretty typical, and the way she approached it, and conversation we had after was, in a way, my inspiration for writing this story.

Both Amy and Ellen presently work from home.

As is evident from the above, Amy takes a good break from her accounting practice at lunch and that, with another around close of business, is when she hits on me for her daily sexual romps. It's so routine, she pretty well expects me to be waiting for her down at the pool area in all but the depths of winter or pouring rain - when the bedroom or her office will suffice. If I'm not there at the appointed time, she'll hunt me out. In short, she regards that as her minimal entitlement for the day, with whatever the mornings or evenings throw up being additional, and often taken, bonuses.

For me, that makes it pretty easy, as long as I can keep my part of the equation up. She long ago made it clear sex is an important part of her life and gave me a free pass to show my enthusiasm to fuck her any time I felt like it.

Prior to today, and maybe somewhat still, I didn't think either Ellen or I knew what Ellen really wants in that area, but it definitely means I'm wasn't going to suddenly bend her over the kitchen bench and take her doggy style while she's unloading the dishwasher as, by way of one example, I often have with Amy. And that was even if she's attending to the dishwasher with the same butt up, mound bulge display as Amy gives me. She pretty well has to instigate it, however randy she might make me feel with sexualised displays from her.

If Ellen was going to instigate some private daytime sex with me, it's generally at what she takes as a morning tea break from her on-line medical practice. Being in business for herself, she's quite able to simply write in a lengthy break for herself instead of appointments and does so.

I was in the kitchen this morning when Ellen approached me, hugged me, and very tentatively asked...

"Can we..."

That, together with a nod towards the door was all the signal I had.

"Sure."

She took my hand and led me out of the kitchen. At first I thought we were going to the bedroom, but instead she hung a left out of the external sliding door onto the patio. It seemed the pool couch was to get yet another workout. The top cover of the cushion was already showing a lot of wear marks and many questionable stains.

I already had a full boner in my normal daytime house wear of just a pair of swim briefs. Partly that was because of the heavenly sight of her body gliding along just in front of me. Tall, slender and womanly, her long naturally blonde hair blew about wistfully and very seductively on the light breeze. Apart from the dangle of her hair, the pale, flawless flesh of her back was broken only by the lower tie of her white bikini top and the dangling ends of the upper strings. Low on her waist hung a close fitted white mini skirt, clinging to her cute arse before it flared out into an 'A' line just below her hips out of which emerged her long slim legs. Under the skirt I knew would be a white silken thong. That, together with a white blouse donned over her bikini top when on a zoom call, constituted her work at home outfit.