Unexpected Threesome Ch. 24

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Blonde

A comment has been made correctly pointing out that we are lacking the numbers for what might be called “group sex” in the chapters at the moment.

Regular readers will recognize this is an interlude from the group situation to let me develop characters and provide a change of scene. I hope new readers will understand.

*****

We were still lying naked side by side, hand in hand, when the doorbell rang. It startled both of us, if only because we hadn’t even noticed the existence of such a thing on the hotel room door.

Amy leapt out of bed.

“I’ll get it.”

She quickly donned a pair of bikini pants sitting on the dresser and had only just thrown the loop of the upper tie of the top over her head when the ringer was followed up by a firm knock.

“Coming.”

Amy was holding the lower tie of the top around her back, the tiny triangles of material precariously placed with one nipple half exposed, as she opened the door and stuck her head around. The voice was a thick, condescending French accent.

“Excuse me. I’m the duty manager. We’ve had a report of the scream of a woman in distress coming from this room.”

Waving to me, Amy opened the door wide, forcing me to quickly cover my nakedness with the sheet pushed back to the foot of the bed, as she used both hands to try and complete tying the bow behind her back.

You could see the manager take a step inside to let him better scan the room for any sign of an issue.

“I’m sorry. That was me. I tend to scream when I’m startled. I won’t do it again. You can check the room for problems if you’d need to, but you can see that I’m fine.”

Amy confidently put her hand out and did a little dance in a circle, as if showing the absence of bodily damage.

“May I ask madam what startled her? Do you need me to summon housekeeping?”

Amy leaned into the manager and whispered something into his ear. Already discomforted by Amy’s barely and imperfectly covered nakedness so intimately close to him, the manager’s eyes widened and he flushed a bright red. Amy pulled her head back and flashed him a look of lip biting, apologetic innocence.

The manager look suspiciously at me, then turned to Amy, although his voice now was less condescending and just a little broken and uncertain…

“I’m sorry to bother you. I would be grateful though if you can avoid disturbing other guests.”

With that he retreated from the room.

As Amy closed the door and turned back to me, she gave me the look of a naughty school girl sharing with her co-conspirator the fact that they’d just been caught at something but looked like getting away with it. A wide eyed, pursed lipped, screwed up nose face usually associated with an attempt to avoid laughing in the face of a close call.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I was startled by having the best orgasm of my life.”

“Wwwwhat!”

She closed the distance to the bed, knelt on it straddling me and lowered herself onto me.

“Naughty, aren’t I?”

“Brazen and affected by champagne is more like it. You can just imagine how he’s going to share the story with his colleges when he gets back to the office.”

I put my hands around her back and undid the recently tied bow on her bikini top, slipping it over her head.

“I think it’s time for us to get some sleep.”

“I thought you were undressing me for sex.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be up for that for a while. Pun intended.”

I rolled Amy onto the bed next to me, pulled her pants down her legs and put them on the dresser with the top and covered her with the sheet that had protected my modesty. But Amy wasn’t content to roll over and sleep alone. She cuddled up closely next to me; our bodies in full contact. It was comfortable enough for me because my lower arm rested in a pressure free space between her shoulder and her thick pillow. Hers was more uncomfortably located, but I figured when she cramped up she could make her own decision to reposition.

With that I passed off to sleep; drifting into semi-consciousness occasionally to find Amy still there and my night erection now pushing into her stomach. I don’t know what time it was, but in the depth of the night I woke, or was woken, to find Amy with her hand around my erection, guiding it into her sex.

I always thought the concept of an insatiable woman was an entirely fictional male fantasy. Yet for the period of this date Amy was as close to that concept as I was ever likely to meet.

It went in easily; her warm, wet, velvety folds parting to embrace it and indicating she was already well aroused.

“Sorry. I didn’t know if I should wake you up.”

“Yea, I don’t think I was going to sleep through it.”

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Amy, for you anything.”

Still, I decided to let her do most of the work. Lying side by side, she started to rock back and forwards, sliding my shaft in and out of her body. I wasn’t really sure how that would stimulate her, so I put my upper hand down between our bodies to let me get a couple of fingers on her clit ataköy anal yapan escort while bringing my head down to suck a nipple. She must have appreciated it because she opened a better gap between our torsos to give my hand and head more room.

Amy must have been randy to start with, because within minutes I could hear and see her biting her lips in an only partly successful attempt to supress the groans that normally accompany her rising arousal. As she came, she tensed up, held me tightly against her and let out an enormous and very audible sigh. Still, that was better than screaming again.

Her own climax having run its course, she just squeezed me tightly inside her and rocked vigorously back and forwards until she induced my own release. A nice one too. Nowhere near as good as the go the animal one earlier, but pretty good just the same. One that still left me shuddering with little mini after-climaxes.

Then she just lay there. I remained hard for a while, but this time as I softened and shrunk out of her she stayed where she was, still cuddled against me, letting whatever discharge there was do what it will. Mind you, I had to wonder whether by this stage I had anything left to contribute to a discharge.

And that’s how we fell asleep again.

It was late morning – at least by my standards – when I woke up. Amy was gone.

Ten minutes later she came back into the room, dressed stunningly in the tiny bikini top she’d embarrassed the duty manager with last night and her micro hot pants. Putting the security card on the table she approached the bed as she announced…

“I’ve organised it.”

“What?”

“A late checkout for tomorrow. We don’t have to leave until 2.30. I thought it would be nice to have somewhere to come back and get changed after lunch. Or at least that’s what I told the clerk.”

I raised my eyebrows…

“And you have other reasons? Anyway they’d told me the room was already rebooked.”

“It was. But there are ways.”

“What have you been up to?”

“There’s this guy on duty of a morning who I knew was vulnerable to my charms. So I went down to ask him. I was about to tease my nipples up before I went into reception but noticed they have security cameras everywhere. So then I had to slip through to the ladies room to do it.

Anyway, I teased them up a fair bit, went over and hung my tits over the reception desk, put on my most nice girl voice and sweetest smile and told him how you were going to take a couple of us for a big lunch tomorrow at the hotel and it would really help if we could keep our room so we could change out of our good clothes after lunch.

And there you go. He had to change some things around a lot, but we got there. No extra charge either.”

“So you used your sexuality to get what you wanted. What are the feminists going to think?”

“It’s ironic. It would be funny if it wasn’t pathetic. The feminists would say the same thing as my abusive former partner. Hide your sexuality. It’s a demand by which they control you instead of giving you control. But that’s their problem. I’ve come to realise it’s one of a woman’s most powerful tools, so why not use it.”

“Do you use it on me?”

“What do you think? Look how you’ve grown a half boner just lying there looking at me as we’ve been talking. You’re putty in my hands. Any complaints you want to make about it?”

“No, not really.”

Amy striped off her hot pants and tossed them aside, revealing the bikini pants she was wearing underneath. She knelt on the bed straddling me. Lowering the gusset of her bikini pants onto my partial erection, she slid it up and down its length; the silky material quickly turning it long, hard and weeping pre-cum.

Pulling the gusset of her bikini pant aside, she lifted my erection up to the vertical and lowered herself onto it. It slipped easily into her warm, moist body.

“Just lie there old man. I’m going to use you for sex. That’s OK is it?”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Really, do you want to object?”

“No, just testing.”

“Just as well. This whole date thing has done my brain in. I’m still as randy as hell, so I’m not finished with you yet.”

She was grinning at me in her cheekiness; pleased as punch at the exercise of her recently discovered confidence and womanly powers; let alone control over me. It was very light-hearted and I didn’t doubt a part of her confidence was her knowledge of my willing compliance; just the same, I was pleased to see it.

Holding the base of my erection, she leant back, playing the top half firmly against the g spot located shallowly inside her sex. With her nipples out of reach, and access to her clit blocked by her hand, I put my hands behind my head and lay back and just watched her; her stomach flat and taut, her mound swollen and her breasts bouncing gently while she raked my cock against the front wall of her vagina as her nipples slowly swelled and pushed out towering volcanic peaks in her bikini top.

Again she was biting her top lip, trying ataköy bdsm escort to supress her normal tendency to vocally express her arousal. She’d need it this time because g spot orgasms are the ones where she screams the loudest. Like during the night, she wasn’t being entirely successful; but at least it kept it down to something that wouldn’t be mistaken for an attempted homicide.

As her arousal grew, her technique changed. Instead of mini thrusts, she simply held the tip of my erection at a point inside her sex and rubbed it there. Really, really firmly rubbed it. It was OK for me because the way she was supporting it meant it wasn’t in danger of being bent back. But I could really feel the pressure she was applying to that spot.

Initially, every few rubs, she would give my shaft a deep burying in her pussy, as if trying to lubricate up her action. But as she got closer to her climax, even that stopped. Instead she just tensed up; rubbing harder and harder.

Her lip biting converted her noises to a deep, supressed, back of the throat grunting. But even that conveyed this building tightness in her; as if the act of trying to stay quiet had locked down some sort of pressure valve.

To call having sex with Amy something where I could be dispassionate was a travesty. But lying back, as I was, letting her do the work, I at least had a dispassionate view of her reactions. And it gave me the impression of a volcano building up a head of steam and about to burst asunder. For a moment there flashed into my mind a highly erotic version of that scene from Monty Python’s Mean of Life where a glutton explodes from overeating; perhaps something more like a balloon bursting when its skin can no longer take the stress of its contents.

It wasn’t that Amy was expanding. Well, maybe apart from some delightfully swollen breasts. Just that every muscle in her body, and the skin covering it, seemed tensed and taut to the point it was going to rip apart.

This orgasm was going to be a monster. If she vocalised it, we were going to have the manager on our doorstep again.

Even her vagina was squeezing tightly down on the short bit of my shaft inside it. As her muscles tensed, she couldn’t even get a smooth rub of her g spot any more; just something more like a spasm of her muscles delivering a jerk against it, however fast and firmly they were delivered to herself.

Then suddenly she took an enormous intake of breath, her hand let go of my shaft and she let it slide deep into her body as she threw herself down flat on me, burying her face into the pillow next to my head.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

For as long as each breath would last the muffled cry continued, followed by a deep intake and another cry.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr…aaaaaaaarrrr…Oh god Ned I’m going to die…aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh”.

Her vagina was tightening against my shaft, the waves of her powerful contractions pummelling it. Almost involuntarily I thrust my hips up, generating a withdrawal and thrust, but that just sent her into another round of crying…

“Aarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”

But her reaction to that was to start moving up and down on me, playing the length of my now sensitive shaft inside her tight vagina. I could feel the silky bikini covering of her hard nipples slipping up and down my chest, even as her head remained firmly buried in the pillow next to me. But it seemed – or rather sounded – like every movement produced a climax of its own.

“Aaaarrrrrraaarrr.” “Aaaaaaarrrrrraarrrrr.” “Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.”

Three of those and I erupted, automatically lifting my hips and thrusting tightly into her while my body feverishly pumped away to try and hose her cervix with whatever pathetic residue of my seed could still be found in my well drained balls.

I held both our hips up, suspended slightly off the bed, until my climax had passed, and then lowered them, wrapping my arms around Amy’s still heaving body.

Her cries had become a sort of humming moan, but still they continued; gradually diminishing. I waited with my arms embracing her; unsure as to what else to do.

And then she started laughing; a manic, heaving, contagious laughter.

“Oh god Ned. That was like the best one ever. Did I really blurt out that I was going to die? Still, it just felt like it was going to explode my brain. What are you doing to me?”

“I think that’s all coming from within you.”

“Ah no. You don’t get away with it that easily. God I love you. It just makes me want you. I just react to you so much. How do I come down off this high? Actually why would I even want to do that.”

She brought her head over mine and smothered me in kisses until my eventually flaccid cock flopped back between my legs to be followed by droplets of my own cum. That seemed to be the signal for her to get off me. Wiping between her legs with the now much abused handtowel, she threw it to me as she returned the gusset of her bikini pants to their proper position.

“Time ataköy elit escort to get up Ned. Let’s go to breakfast.”

Amy pulled the hot pants, which she correctly sensed caused men around her to melt in some sort of combination of sexual frustration, inadequacy and a compulsive need to somehow please her, over her bikini bottoms. I was still easing myself out of the bed when she turned and demanded…

“Come on, I’m ready.” Adding with a cheeky grin…”Your incessant sexual demands have left me staving.”

Given the breakfast room was out by the pool, Amy’s outfit was probably OK even for a fancy resort like this one; more so given the fetid air of the tropics. And even more so with her body. But I doubted anyone wanted to see a bare chested late middle age (who am I kidding – old) man at breakfast. I pulled on my speedos and covered them with a pair of shorts and a polo t shirt.

As we presented ourselves to the young Polynesian maitre d at her desk and announced our room number, I saw her take a second glance at Amy and then give me a good look up and down; grinning somewhat.

She called over a young local lad waiting on the tables…

“Raphael, would you please take Mr O Neill and Miss Stonehouse-Bryce from room 48 to table 16 please.”

When they’d asked as I booked the room for the names of the guests I was faced with the dilemma of what names to give when each of Amy and Emily would have a night in the room. I’d unthinkingly given them both; which had now been attached to Amy as a hyphenated name. Goodness only knows how they were going to deal with Emily tomorrow morning!

But I thought it was rather unusual for her to give the waiter our room number. At first I figured, maybe it was a security thing, so they’d know who did a runner or something. That was until a light in his eye momentarily indicated a penny might have dropped somewhere in his consciousness and I suspected the manager from last night had told a story which had now spread through the staff network.

Whatever was the case, almost immediately he succumbed to the typical young male reaction to Amy. As he guided us to a table by the pool, Amy again leading me by the hand, he suffered from a combination of compulsive staring and extreme clumsiness; in this case accompanied by something of a growing bulge in his tane (lap lap). He somehow stuttered out an enquiry as to whether we wanted a buffet or al la carte breakfast and seemed almost disappointed when we replied we’d be looking after ourselves with the former.

No sooner had we come back to the table with our first course than a pair of becoming young Polynesian waitresses approached asking if we wanted any coffee or tea. I welcomed a cup of coffee, Amy the tea. I was struck by how friendly they were; lingering at the table, enquiring how we were enjoying our stay and when they found we were travelling on a yacht, engaging in a lengthy enquiry about our travel.

I was no less struck by their wrap pareo’s. By the standards of what I seen, the ones these two were wearing were incredibly short; both of them displaying remarkably long and shapely legs emerging from them and one even displaying flashes of her panties as the wind lifted a flap of the wrap. They also hung incredibly low on their breasts; seemingly just at the point where, any lower and they’d fall off them. When the one serving me coffee bent over to pour it, I couldn’t help but notice I got a look straight down her dress at her tidy, no so little and bra-less breasts; something that got me a kick under the table from Amy.

Eventually the maitre d came over and directed them to another table.

Innocently I said to Amy…

“I have to say, the staff here are very friendly.”

Amy looked at me as if I was an idiot.

“Ned, they were flirting with you. Have a look at how their dresses have been hitched up and the wrap loosened so that it hangs off their breasts like it does. I don’t want it going to your head, but that display was for you. Don’t you get it; every female member of staff knows you’re the best lay on the island. And every male knows I’m a screamer. The manager blabbed.”

I blushed, causing Amy to grin. She reached her hand across the table and put it on my forearm.

“Just run with it Ned. Enjoy it like I do. Slap on the male charm and give them the ego boost of thinking they’re in with half a chance. Mind you, I’m not going to let you out of my sight while we’re here.”

Let’s just say the service we enjoyed for that breakfast was incredibly attentive. Both Amy’s aroused young man and my comely ladies fluttered around the table seeing to our every need. Empty tea and coffee cups were instantly filled and used plates immediately removed; always with a friendly smile and a few words. The maitre d took her turn too; ensuring the others didn’t linger too long while getting in her own little conversational snatches.

And Amy was right. It’s fun being able to turn on the charm when you have no real sexual interest in them but they have enough in you that they are willing, even wanting, to bask in that charm; and maybe wanting a whole lot more, although in my deeper self I could never bring myself to believe that. Of course, ‘no sexual interest in them’ doesn’t preclude a mere willingness to admire a shapely pair of legs or a nice pair of breasts when they’re owned by a delightful young lady engaging you in conversation.

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