Unexpected Threesome Ch. 09

I normally like writing in the first person from the female POV. However, I've been lacking inspiration for new story lines recently and this series has proved pretty popular, so thought I'd add another chapter.

This is a continuation from my previous "Unexpected Threesome" stories; although you shouldn't need to have read them to enjoy this.

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 very 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.

*****

Because we were due to sail in the morning, the girls asked if they could take the tender to say goodbye to a friend they'd made in another yacht moored a few hundred metres away. The request was a courtesy. The reality was they didn't need to ask permission for such a trip; although as a safety precaution it was always wise to tell someone where you were going, especially near dusk.

I'd seen the girl they were visiting from a distance. From the stories they'd brought back it didn't sound like a happy boat. Some skippers are what you might call laissez-faire in their relationship with their crews. I'd like to think I'm one of them. Others are more inclined to never let it be forgotten who was the owner of the boat and therefore in charge. A few went beyond that and extracted every benefit they could from having crew aboard; financial, workwise and emotional. I'd add sexual, but that strikes a bit close to home; even if I'd plead to being innocent of any exploitation of my circumstances. Still, there was no doubt that sometimes a sexual price could be demanded too.

I hadn't heard of anything in the sexual department, but it did sound like her owners - a couple - were very much on the outer edge of what was acceptable.

Still, you have to be careful of such stories. Sometimes owners can be painted with the harshest brush by the crew only for you to find out later that it was actually the crew who were a problem; complete freeloaders, unwilling to contribute even a fair share of effort to running the boat and sometimes even thieving to boot.

In this case I'd met the owners. They'd shared a drink with me aboard my yacht before the girls had met this crew member. I'd have to say they seemed like ripe bastards; almost boasting of how they exploited their crew. Needless to say, it was the only drink we shared.

It was only thirty minutes later I heard the motor of the tender alongside. Going on deck to help them aboard, I found three people in the tender; one more than I'd expected - my two plus Ellen, the girl in question.

It seems the girls had dropped in on something of a scene. Sick of being verbally bullied, Ellen had answered back and got an unapologetic whack across the face for her efforts. Realising a bridge had been crossed and that she might actually be in danger at sea with these two, she'd packed her bag and demanded to be taken ashore. The couple had refused, leaving Ellen a virtual prisoner.

Amy and Issie had turned up as she was sitting on deck arguing the point with the owners; who were threatening to have her arrested for theft if she took the tender ashore by herself.

As you do in these circumstances, I got everyone safely aboard and the tender secured; offering up a cup of tea or something stronger to settle everyone's nerves. The thought had occurred to me it was a bit late and a bit dark to just dump her ashore by herself, so in a way I was already reconciled to her being aboard for the night. We'd barely got down to drinking our glasses of wine when Issie blurted out...

"We told Ellen you'd let her join our crew. You've always said you like to have at least four crew so we can have the safety of two night watches of two each."

I was taken aback. I'd assumed our job had been to deliver Ellen safely to land where she could find accommodation and another yacht to sail on. We were sailing in the morning and there were a few issues with Issie's proposition.

I'm going to be honest enough to admit that the first one that came into my head was the fact that the girls and I were in the habit of sharing wild, noisy group and individual sex anywhere and everywhere on the boat. Issie was right. As a matter of principle I do prefer a minimum crew of four. But I'd mentally crossed the bridge of compromising on that point some time ago in the interests of my sex life. Maybe it wasn't the most prudent decision, but it was a perfectly human one. Ellen being aboard was going to severely cramp the sexual activities.

Complementing that was the fact I thought the boat would probably go naked once we left the confines of the harbour. That was pretty common for tropical sailing when only close friends were aboard and helped avoid heat rashes. But I figured Ellen's presence put an end to that.

Then there were the more practical things. Before taking a crew on, I normally interview them. This is someone you're going to be living with and mutually dependant on. And once you're at sea you can't get rid of them if things aren't working out; not legally anyway. I knew nothing about this girl.

My answer was a way of stalling for time.

"Ellen might have different travel plans to us."

Issie was already on to that one.

"No, she slowly working her way back to Australia, just like us."

I looked at Ellen; just sitting there with a somewhat hopeful and very angelic smile on her face.

"How old are you Ellen?"

"25."

"What has brought you out to cruise the Pacific?"

"I finished my training as a doctor and I wanted to take a gap year while helping out in some community medical centres along the way."

"When are you wanting to be back in Australia?"

"In about 9 months; but that's flexible."

"How much sailing background do you have?"

"All my life. Manly Juniors and then 29er's and my dad has a yacht we used for offshore cruising and racing. I was often his crew boss in the big events. I can navigate too."

Ellen was making it very difficult to say no. For the first time I had a good look at her. Tall, willowy and with a cascade of naturally blonde hair, an American would probably call her a classical Californian girl although perhaps the stereotype for that is a tad vacuous depending on which version you think about. And if Ellen was one thing, it wasn't vacuous.

But she was very much Australian and there were no shortage of beaches that could readily claim her. She was not really bogan enough to be a classic Gold Coast girl. For an international audience you might call her a typical Bondi beach girl; although Bondi is pretty multicultural these days and this girl was more old style (what is sometimes patronisingly or pejoratively called, white bread) Australian.

Really to my mind, if you had to stereotype her, she was a Peninsular Girl, from the Northern Beaches of Sydney. Well-spoken without being snotty about it, she came across as smart and independent minded. Her eyes were the deepest blue and pierced you with their intelligence and intensity. Her face had a slim, angular strength about it; stunningly beautiful if that strength didn't scare you.

Her clothing, board shorts and a tee, flattered without flaunting. As far as I could see she had a nice figure, but you had to use your imagination to fill in some of the gaps. Not in the way Amy had originally dressed to make herself look like a cardboard box; but Ellen wasn't setting out to seduce either.

I looked across to Amy and Issie who were looking back with expectant grins. They knew Ellen had made refusal impossible; especially since I'd always fancied having a doctor aboard. But it would be a month before we'd be reasonably able to unload her if things turned out badly; I could hardly dump her at some rarely visited place; it would need to be a decent port.

"OK Ellen, we'll give you a run. Welcome aboard."

She stood up and leaned into me to wrap her arms around my neck and kiss me on the cheek as I added...

"You are aware of the arrangements between Amy, Issie and myself are you?"

She broke into a broad grin and looked back across to Issie.

"The whole anchorage knows about it. But yes, the girls here have been quite explicit. They tell me you're a complete stud. Issie reckons we'll have to make it a foursome one day."

I blushed deeply. It was kind of the girls to say that, but I had no illusions about myself. Stud was nowhere near it. I managed to nearly meet their needs in what was fairly conservative and old fashioned ways was as far as I'd go. If we weren't all trapped on a boat together I would have been patronisingly dismissed by them as the old fart I was. As for the foursome, yeh, in my dreams; or was that nightmare. I was barely keeping up with two of them. Still, it also confirmed just how much the noise had been travelling.

I managed to splutter out...

"They're just being nice. I'm too old for them really."

I nearly added without thinking... "As I'm sure you'll find out." Fortunately I stopped short on a statement that would have inadvertently suggested the foursome was likely.

Ellen was good heartedly playing with me and she knew I knew it. It was nice to have an Aussie on board who knew how to do that properly - the art of self depreciation.

"Why don't you put your things in the amidships bunk cabin and set yourself up for the night."

I winced as I said it. That was the cabin in which the three of us used the tiered bunks for some rather kinky, multi layered threesome sex play. There goes that particular game.

Fifteen minutes later Ellen appeared back on deck. She had changed out of her tee and shorts into a bikini top and an A-line miniskirt; tight at the waist but flaring out around her upper thighs. I couldn't help myself by commenting on something I knew I shouldn't.

"You've changed."

"Yea, it was a bit warm for what I had on, even at this time of the evening. It was just that, on the other boat, I had to dress in a way that didn't give the owner any creepy ideas. I hope you don't mind; you guys are dressed the same."

She wasn't wrong about how the rest of us were dressed. Amy and Issie were in their perpetually worn bikinis and I, having been caught by surprise by Ellen's arrival, was in my no less perpetually worn speedos. Normally I'd cover up for visitors; especially young ladies. Indeed, by our standards she was still overdressed; even if her bikini top was as small as those worn by the other two girls.

Her change of clothes made it hard not to admire her figure. I hope she was allowing for the fact there was more than one guy around capable of creepy thoughts. The overall impression continued to be one of willowy. She must have been a good 6 foot tall (182 cm for those mired in metrics; although even now, us old guys still revert to imperial when judging a girl's height). A good several inches taller than the others and nearly as tall as me. Her legs were extraordinarily long; they went all the way up to her arse, as a friend of mine at school used to say.

In her overall slimness, her features could be equated to Amy's; that sort of no fat but no showing bones body that looks so great on a girl. Maybe just the smallest hint of a tummy bulge, a nice feminine turn of her waist and breasts on the smallish end of the B cup spectrum. So not quite as spectacular as Amy; but in every respect, model material.

As she sat down she raised an issue I'd already considered.

"Have I mucked up your provisioning plan? I know we're meant to be leaving early in the morning."

"No, as the girls will tell you, I hopelessly overprovision. We're fine. We'll still be departing soon after first light."

To which my brain silently added..."Just after I'm finished trying to screw Amy and Issie on a small boat without you overhearing anything."

The night passed uneventfully until I woke up to the feel of Amy playing with my fully engorged manhood as the first light of dawn broke through the cabin window; milking my already painfully throbbing cock in the palm of her hand. Her face was inches from mine, scanning it for the moment my eyes showed life. I'd barely opened them before her tender face was pushed against mine, her tongue pushing itself into my mouth as I felt my hardness slipped between her legs and slid back and forwards along her already moist slot as she used it to tickle up her clit.

I groaned quietly as the tip and upper surface of the firm needy flesh of my cock was embraced by the warm wetness of the lips of her crease.

She whispered into my mouth...

"Time's short this morning. I thought we'd better make the most of it."

She pushed her whole body against me as she passionately kissed and rapidly worked the tip of my erection against her swollen little bud. What was previously only moist soon became noticeably wet; a combination of her juices and my flood of pre-cum. Knowing full well that it drove her absolutely wild, I was jerking my hardness up against her as she slid it back and forwards. After a bit of cuddling foreplay, I've had her cum in three minutes flat doing that in the past and it looked like this morning was going to be no exception. Which is good, because once Amy cums the first time, it's relatively easy to get her to cum again; important when an old codger like me is trying to satisfy two girls.

Soon her need to kiss stopped and her head was lolling alongside mine, eyes closed, her breathing growing rapid and more audible as she seductively bit her lower lip. Just as a little..'aaahhh' formed on her lips she seemed to find the strength to seek a better ending. She sucked my shaft into her womanhood, wetly engulfing the entire length into her warm and delicious sex. Simultaneously Amy pushed me over on my back and straddled me with her legs outside mine. Then lifting herself up at full arms stretch, she worked herself up and down, rubbing her clit in circles on my pubis as we pushed against each other in a frantic connection of sex and lust; my cock deep and completely captured by her pussy. All the while I lustfully watched her delightful breasts bounce to the movement.

I'd only just managed to put one her nipples into my mouth when I heard her moan...

"Oooohhhh..." And then again. "Oooooohhhhhhh..."

That was the signal for me to swirl her nipples about all the more vigorously to prolong her orgasm as I felt her contractions bear down on my manhood. As her body relaxed I lay my head back down on the pillow and let her collapse on top of me.

Amy may not have done the full screaming thing, but there was little doubt her orgasm had made itself known throughout the boat.

Like a long married couple, the process for our morning threesomes had become a well-practiced routine. Woken by the activity, Issie was pawing at my shoulder. Momentarily sated, Amy rolled off me and Issie immediately replaced her. Issie always has got rather aroused watching Amy and myself make out. If we try and sneak a one on one, we'll usually find Issie was watching down a hatch playing with herself while we were at it.

So, on the mornings it's her turn to be second, by the time she climbs on, she'll usually be well juiced up and ready to pound; slipping my pre-sensitized and hardened cock into her like a well-oiled piston. And pound she does. Mostly she does the rubbing her clit on my pubis thing.

Occasionally she leans right back and does the shaft on her g spot thing. At first it's all very controlled; her hand wrapped around the lower section of my hardness to control the depth of penetration and make sure it's pointed at the right spot. But then, in the last few moments, she gets all excited and much less controlled; leaving me worried she's going to break my manhood right off with her vigorous pounding. And that's before I mention that as she gets carried away in those last few moments and with her orgasm, she gets, shall we say, vocally expressive. Enough to make me think she must be waking everyone in the anchorage.

This morning, of all mornings, she chose the g spot alternative. If Amy hadn't woken Ellen, Issie certainly did.

There's another little twerk that Issie had recently started that it took me a while to catch on to. While she's pounding herself down on top of me, she's fingering Amy lying legs apart next to me. I'd been way too focused on her bouncing breasts to notice where the hand off to the side was going. And then one day I suddenly hear Amy going off like a bomb next to me; her crotch arching into my vision with Issie's hand buried deeply between her thighs.

I suppose that's fair enough when she's doing the rub the clit thing. But you'd think when she's laying right back working her g spot, she'd want an arm stretched out behind her to support her weight. But no, she relies on her stomach muscles for that and Amy co-operatively slides herself further down the bed to put herself back in reach.

On this morning it was Amy's turn to be the one I cum into. Yep, it something they meticulously take turns at and there's a price to pay if someone takes a cum shot they're not entitled to. Don't ask me why; probably partly an emotional need, part physical. There's certainly nothing special about my cum; although I always have been a fan of the post coital cuddle.

The fact that Issie, because of a peculiarity of her sexual history, can sometimes orgasm to nothing more than me ejaculating might influence her desire for it, although that's in different circumstances to our morning threesome. But it doesn't explain Amy, even if the process itself can give her another orgasm. So while they're initially taking turns finding their own orgasms, they grip me lightly so as not to set me off prematurely. Then one of them presents their body for me to pleasure myself in - so to speak.

With a broad grin on her face and a pussy wet from Issie's fingering of her, Amy duly presented herself legs apart for duty. I'd like to say I was momentarily forgetful of the changed circumstances in the boat and carried away by Issie's performance. But's it's also possible I was just trying to make a statement that Ellen's presence in the boat wasn't going to change anything. Regardless, instead of just mounting her missionary style I moved between her legs, kneeling and pulling her thighs over mine.

Amy has a shallowly located but very sensitive g spot and there can be few more pleasurable ways of finishing sex than by detonating that particular bomb before filling her pussy. After bending my manhood down to gain an initial penetration, I raised myself up to a kneeling position, lifting Amy's hips up just enough to let me deliver short sharp little jerks against her g spot without too much risk of me popping out of her.

It was always a delight to do this. Amy weighs all of 50 kgs, and with most of that weight resting down on her shoulders on the bunk, holding her up was little effort. On the other hand, thrusting at her in that position produced the most exciting rag doll effect; bouncing her boobs delectably while the curve of her body sucked her already flat stomach in, exaggerating the size of her breasts and the rise of her mound. It was enough to make you climax on the visuals alone. And that's before the view you got from just looking straight down and watching your shaft piston in to her sex.

Already worked to a state of excitement by Issie's fingering, it was only a few minutes before she worked herself into her pre-detonation vocalisations, delivered in a rising crescendo...

"mmmmmmm...oh my god...that's beautiful... oooohhhhh...yes...there...oh god...oh god...keep going...oh yes...oh yes...please...oh yes..."

All of which was scant warning of the screams that followed with her g spot climaxes as she turned up both the speakers and the profanities, no less so on this particular morning...