A Threesome in a Covid 19 World Ch. 09

On that fateful day, with Frank in the UK last I heard and the international lockdown Australia imposed at the start of COVID making it almost impossible for non-Australians to come to Australia and even for citizens to get home, I had let my guard relax.

Liddy was still trapped back in New York, Ellen was at work, Ellen's kids out with the au pair.

I'd had such a good morning. Working at home at my accounting practice, I'd solved a really difficult problem for a client and had efficiently got done some work I'd had in the 'too hard' basket for a while.

Taking my lunch break by giving myself some time sitting reading a book in a bikini on the sunbed down at the pool, Ned had come down just as I settled in down there.

He sat next to me on the sun bed, putting a kind hand on my knee as he asked...

"I'm going down to Mona Vale to get a roast for dinner and do some shopping. Is there anything you want?"

I looked at him. He was dressed in a pair of shorts and a t shirt. It was true he was no longer in his prime. But he still had a man's man look about him and his deportment, in the best possible sense of that term. Tall, slender, strongly built, with a proud posture, the time he spent exercising with me was well spent.

Both Ellen and I had shared him in a massive root before we'd got out of bed that morning; one that had left both of us screaming out multiple orgasms and curled up into fucked out balls of out of control rolling climaxes; and yes, I admit, I was way more out of control than Ellen. And I'd had the benefit of his cum shot.

So I wasn't sex deprived, however insatiable I might be.

Still, there was something in the kindness of his voice and the softness of his touch that had an electric effect on me. I knew he was on something of a time limit to get the shopping done and get home to get it cooking. He hadn't come down to ask me that with any expectation I'd seduce him. But I couldn't help myself as a flood of endorphins caused my clit to respond to his touch.

I slid my hand up his thigh and into his pants as I responded...

"Maybe an erection."

My hand in his pants found him commando. Normally in this warm weather, Ned's standard household clothing is a pair of speedos, in the same way that Ellen's and mine is a small bikini. Sometimes when he's going out he just puts a pair of pants over those. If it's warm and muggy though he'll take them off and go commando like today.

As my fingers wrapped themselves around his manhood, Ned obligingly gave me what I asked for.

With my free hand, I grabbed the neckline of his t shirt and pulled his face towards me for a kiss. Ned didn't resist. Nor did he resist as I stripped him out of his t shirt.

As we continued to kiss, Ned's hand came up and cupped my breast, teasing the nipple into a hard, sensitive and highly stimulating, jutting tower in my bikini top.

The point of mutual passions had been passed and I maneuvered our combined, intertwined bodies into a lying down position on the sunbed -- the double bed sized sunbed I'd asked Ned to buy just for this purpose - facing each other as our hands explored the other's body.

Ned sensuously slid the back of his hand that was previously on my nipple down my chest and stomach until it passed onto my mons, reversing his hand to cup it and use his fingers to push my bikini gusset into my crease until he could finger my clit through it. At the same time, his teeth moved aside the tiny bikini triangle covering my breast and he started sucking my nipple.

I brought the hand I'd had up the leg of his pants over and stuck it down the elasticised front, pulling it down to expose his erection, just as Ned also moved his hand down the front of my bikini pants to directly play with the flesh of my clit, before penetrating me with two fingers to rub against my g spot.

As Ned used the thumb of the hand fingering me to stimulate my clit, I could do little but lie back and surrender to the powerful effects of his triple stimulation of me; nipple, clit and g spot. Ned knew how to make me cum the first time quickly and this was it.

All I could do was maintain my hold on his erection as he turned my body into a quivering mass of growing arousal. Holding his head to my chest with my free hand, I felt the building climax suffuse through every bit of my body, causing it to tingle with pleasure.

Quickly, I was moaning loud enough to be heard by the neighbours 500 meters away; I know that because they tell me.

Indecently quickly Ned made me cum with a loud cry. My orgasm took control of my body as it threw my hips into the air and caused it to rock from side to side as Ned unrelentingly kept stimulating me, waiting for my signal to stop that I had no inclination to give him.

At least until I started to pull his pants off his butt and whisper in his ear...

"I know you're in a hurry. Just go the animal on me."

Almost immediately Ned used the hand down my pants to start sliding them off my conveniently raised hips and down my legs which I helpfully folded to let him get it off my feet. And always one to prefer fucking me naked, he enthusiastically reached under me to pull the strings on my bikini top and discard that too. All while I had hooked a toe on his pants and pulled them down and off him.

As Ned rolled on top of me, it was two naked bodies, fully aroused and ready for some fast paced horizontal folk dancing.

For those not familiar with the 'go the animal' request, it is quite simply a request -- make that demand -- for Ned to really unleash his lust on us in a display of almost selfish, man on top, penetrative sex.

It started because Ellen and I thought Ned was just being too polite and considerate. Sometimes we really want to feel his lust and excitement as he made love to us, whatever the books might say. And actually, 'fucking us' is probably a more emotive way of putting it.

I especially gain a lot from a display on unremitted lust. I have a deep need to feel that lust; largely as a result of Frank's running down of me.

Ned took a while to fully comply with our requests. He needed some training. Mine was with words, Ellen's with a good hard slap on the bottom and a demand to get on with it.

But by this stage, Ned knew what he had to do. He excitedly penetrated me and went for it.

Both Ellen and I probably like it because it still works for us. Many women might not get off on mere thrusting penetrative sex.

But Ellen's clit is big enough and well enough positioned to get stimulated by Ned's shaft as he bangs away at her. And I just seem to be one of those small percentage of women who'll cum to missionary positioned penetrative sex.

And cum to him I did. A noisy once and then a screaming second time as Ned grunted loudly with the effort before blowing his own load in a bellowing moan, collapsing down on me and going through all the shakes and shudders he get with a really good orgasm.

He was still hard and inside me, no doubt worried about appearing to bang and run, when I slapped him on the bottom and told him...

"Just what the lady asked for. Now you better get off for your shopping before we don't have dinner served on time."

I still felt fantastic as he withdrew a fairly full erection from me, the final drops of cum falling on my mons, before he struggled to fit it back in his pants and get dressed to leave.

At my own leisurely pace, I let Ned cum discharge into a corner of the towel I'd brought down with me, wiped myself down and put my bikini back on to continue reading.

And then my day was made by having a koala walk past the far end of the pool glass fence and climb a tree just outside the fence

I'd just been filming the koala on my phone and was about to switch over to review the shot when I heard a voice that sent a chill through my whole body...

"Hello Amy. Long time, no see."

I looked up. There was Frank. Dressed in a non-descript pair of board shorts, a collared summer short sleeve shirt and flip flops, he held a large kitchen knife in his right hand. Distracted, I'd not noticed or heard as he'd snuck quietly inside the pool gate and to within five meters of me.

He'd aged a lot and not in a good way. The tall athletic body that had originally lured me to his side was now flabby, overweight and florid. Probably 100 kg (220lbs) or more, his face was puffy and skin blotchy. In short, he was gross. But against my 50kg frame, his size alone was intimidating.

With him blocking my only exit from the pool area, I considered my options. I should be able to outrun him, if only I could get a clear break. But, whichever way around the pool I went, he could get to the gate faster and even if I did manage to beat him to the gate somehow, the time spent fumbling the childproof lock to get it open would be my undoing.

I quickly returned my phone to the video record function I'd had it on and propped it on the towel next to me; able to be grabbed quickly but also to leave my hands free for whatever might follow. I knew if I tried to call the police I'd be dead before they answered the phone.

I also knew him well enough that if I did try and run, I'd push him to a frenzy of immediate action. If I got out the gate, great. But if he got anywhere near me, I'd be subjected to a crazed stabbing attack.

He knew he had my path blocked and continued to walk cautiously towards me.

"Hello Frank. What are you doing here?"

"I've come for you."

"What do you mean come for me?"

"I've come to punish you for the evil you did to me."

I knew there was no point trying to rationalise who was to blame for my running away or for its consequences. Franks reality would be whatever he deemed it to be and trying to argue would simply enrage him.

"What do you mean punish me?"

"I think that should be obvious."

It was. Frank would have no hesitation in killing me. But Frank had one weakness; one that always overwhelmed even his anger and violence. It was one that just maybe gave me my best hope of escape as long as nothing had changed in the years since I'd left him. My question had simply been directed to encourage that path of action. My voice quivered as I asked...

"You're not going to rape me are you?"

The question wasn't moot. A full erection was evident in the flimsy material of his board shorts. I was dressed in a particularly provocative bikini; the style the Screw Girls have always called cum catchers because the men around us go off prematurely during foreplay when we're wearing them.

The pants were very similar to the panties Frank would make me wear under the frumpy clothing he made me dress in when I went out. Indeed, the bikini pants were probably way sexier on Frank's scale of such things and the top way more so than even the bras Frank would have me wear.

I hadn't forgotten that Frank thought first and foremost with his cock.

In this case I didn't think being raped would save me from being killed by him. But distracting him with that possibility might give me an opening not otherwise available to me.

Still, his answer was as expected...

"That first, then I'm going to punish you. And then punish that man for taking you away from me and fucking my girl."

There was an eerie dissonance in his avoidance of the work 'kill'. But I found his threat to kill Ned the most bone chilling of all, and I hated to think what would happen if Ellen walked in on the scene.

My whole body was shaking in fear. That I couldn't control and didn't want to. I knew Frank would enjoy seeing that. But what he didn't realise was my mind was clear. It was able to process the fact I would soon either be free of him or dead; with the only consolidation being that the knife was big and sharp enough and Frank would be in such a frenzy, that the end should be quick, unless he decided to give me a good fist beating first. And even that latter prospect offered some hope, since I'd learned a lot about how to defend myself against that in the interim years.

My heart skipped a beat when, holding the knife defensively in front of him, he used his spare hand to drop his pants to the ground and stepped out of them. There was nothing underneath except a towering erection. As far as it went, that was good. That was always how Frank thought he was intimating me; unsheathing his erection as a sort of threat of what was to come. He thought he was letting me stew in my fear. In fact he was reassuring me I was about to suffer the lesser of the possible outcomes. At least initially.

He liked to be naked as he started his sexual attacks on me; both for his pleasure and as part of the intimidation; towering over me with his naked body so much bigger than mine and taking pleasure in filling my field of vision with his erection. So I wasn't surprised when he took the risk of taking off his shirt too. But the buttons let him do a slow reveal which didn't offer me a chance for escape by blocking his view or the path of the knife.

From there I knew he'd take his time. Time during which I was supposed to suffer mental torture, to prolong my suffering in my anticipation of what was to come.

As I backed up in a seating position against the arm rest of the sunbed, still shaking crazily, he slowly approached me, the knife still intimidatingly held in front of him.

He knelt on the sunbed just beyond my feet. As he grabbed a foot in each hand, the cold steel of the flat blade pressed against my ankle in the hand that held the knife. Normally I would have put up a token kicking resistance at this stage, but the proximity of the knife made that unwise.

He dragged me towards him, giving him room to lay me out flat on my back and then straddle me.

So far he was completely following the pattern of his relationship rapes of me. That was good. With my legs between his as he straddled me, I wondered if it was yet the opportunity I was looking for to crush his balls. But the knife was wrongly positioned; pointing downward towards me and too easily buried in me, even if just as part of him bending over in agony.

He lay down on top of me with the knife in his right hand resting against my left bicep. He wormed and squirmed his way up until the tip of his erection pushed hard into the gusset of my bikini pants. That too was part of his old habits; part of the process of intimidation and domination and his own self pleasuring.

In his mind, his shaft was put where it was to tell me what was about to happen to me and, he thought, to hurt me as he jerked it harder and harder into my crotch. But it also constituted a significant part of the sexual pleasure he derived from the rape.

It wasn't nice. But nor was it nearly as painful as I made out. Then as now, I played the role that kept me safest; whimpering and crying out in apparent pain, squirming about over the background shaking of my body, physically resisting as much as I dared and begging him to stop hurting me and not to rape or hurt me.

Meanwhile he took his time pawing at me. This too was a process I now more clearly understood. The panties he made me wear were always tight fitting, very brief and made of a silky stretch material. He never really discovered or thought about making me wear bikini pants like the ones I wear now, but they were an even more idealised version of what he once made me wear.

And as he pawed at me, what he loved doing -- spent most of the time doing -- was rubbing his hand on the silky material that tightly covered my butt cheek and mons. With Ned, and most guys, their obsession is with breasts. I could never really understand why Frank paid so little attention to them until I came to realise, he was a butt guy.

In the old days, this was also the time he would tell me how ugly I was, how lucky I was to have someone like him to even stay with me and how my vagina looked so hideous he was going to leave my panties on until the last moment before he fucked my arse off me and I should be thankful to him for being willing to do it.

But now he started telling me how evil I had been for leaving him; downloading on me his whole self-pitying tale of my breech of his trust and the calculated nastiness of my abandonment of him and the impact it had had on him while calling me a slut and every other name he could think of.

As I lay under him with the knife pushed against my bicep, there wasn't any doubt he could feel my whole body shaking as he lay flat on top of me. The shaking was real; an uncontrollable panic reaction to this situation he was well familiar with. I could only hope it signalled to him I was the same cowed girl who ran away from him, one who might resist but never fought back in a way that offered any threat to him.

The decision not to fight back then had been calculated. Unless I could be sure I'd never have to be with him again, any physically resistance would be meet with even more force and punishment.

The difference today was the absolute necessity to fight back when the moment came.

It was gross having his body on top of me. I could feel his precum penetrating the gusset of my pants and his sweat smearing my body as he excited himself by squirming about on top of me. His damp left hand was forced under my butt and all over the right cheek and even pushing my pants into my crack, rubbing it in the most annoying way.

As he brought his head alongside mine and the rough, spiky flesh of his cheek brushed against me, he gloated...

"I'm going to enjoy your slutty ugly body one more time while it's still warm. Think about it Amy. I might use it for my pleasure again while it's cooling. Maybe while that stupid thieving boyfriend of yours is tied up watching me molesting your dead body before I deal with him too."

If he wanted me to squeal in fear, it worked. I did. And it was real.

For what seemed like a long time, he repeatedly jerked his shaft hard into my crotch as he pawed at my body. But that knife continued to rest against my left bicep, all too ready to strike. As I played my role of a woman overcome with fear and pain, I had to bide my time.

His need to penetrate me and ejaculate finally boiling over, he again sat up straddling my thighs.

Leaning forward, he slid the knife under the lower string tie of my bikini top between my breasts, sliding the cold steel of the blunt edge across the skin of my chest. It was here I was relying on Frank's need for perfection. Relying on the fact a bleeding Amy would not be as perfect to him as one whose skin was still flawless. That he wouldn't cut me until he'd sexually finished with me.

Given his OCD, how he'd carry through with his threat to violate my dead, blood soaked body I didn't know and didn't care. I'd either be dead and oblivious to it or it wasn't going to happen.

Holding the string tightly, Frank severed it and pushed both triangles aside to expose my breasts, pawing at both breasts with his left hand.

Bringing the knife up, he slid the blunt edge slowly across my neck as he severed the top string tie where it ran down to the right side of my neck, slowly unwrapping the strings so that the top fell away completely, then lifting each arm to let him tuck the triangles under my upper arms and spread them out flat on the cushion.

Lifting himself more upright, he looked down at the bulge of my mound. With the knife angled flat up my stomach, he brought his right hand to cup the tiny bikini pants covering of it. His fingers, retaining only a loose grip on the knife, pointing up to my navel, his wrist down between my thighs as he rubbed it up and down, bitterly growling...

"I've got six years of accumulated cum I'm going to fill that slutty vagina of yours with. I hope you drown in it. You've brought this on yourself and deserve everything thing you get. I'm going to fuck you so hard I'll split you open before I even have to finish you with the knife."