Unexpected Threesome Ch. 28

[A combination of writer's block and a dissatisfaction and uncertainty with the arc of the narrative had made this chapter a long time coming. In the end I decided it was better to push it out and move on with the next chapter.

You may recall each of Amy and now Ellen has been given a day and night at a fancy lagoon hotel with Ned. We last left of as Ellen, unlike her usual style, screamed loudly with her orgasm. Shortly thereafter, there's been a knock at the door. Probably once again the manager responding to a report of a woman in distress.]

*****

Ellen disengaged from me; pushing herself up on her arms and letting the residue of my erection and a pool of cum drop out of her.

The door bell chimed a second time.

"Coming!"

She picked a beach towel up from the floor and tried to wrap herself in it, only to find her 182 cm height left at least one of either her breasts or crotch exposed. Instead she just draped it lengthways down her front; her naked, and rather cute, bottom completely visible to me as she opened the door.

As for myself, I was in a post sex mess. My chest was still damp from Ellen's squirting and my cock semi-hard and sticky and now pooled with the discharge from Ellen's delectable sex. For the second time I had to pull a sheet over my nakedness, although a number of damp stains quickly penetrated through it and the way it settled over my still only half flaccid cock left nothing to the imagination.

As the door opened I could hear the manager's voice.

"Mademoiselle, you promised you woul..."

His voice trailed off as Ellen appeared to him and he realised it wasn't Amy. I could see him studying her semi nakedness, probably realising she was uncovered from behind.

"Excuse me Mademoiselle, we've had a report of a woman screaming in pain as if being attacked or in distress."

Unlike Amy, who playfully acted out the role of a naughty child with him, Ellen stood ram rod straight, looked him in the eye and addressed him something like a doctor might telling a patient he had cancer. It was an admirable achievement when you're standing naked in plain view of a stranger, with your modesty protected only by a towel held draped down your front by an arm across your chest, while the cross draft through the door seems determined to blow it to the side and expose far more than is appropriate. She even managed to avoid any slurring of her words, given her still tipsy state.

"I'm very sorry. I'm certainly not in any danger or at risk of being hurt or in any pain. I was simply given the best orgasm I've ever had and it caused me to cry out. It's not something I normally do, so it caught me by surprise. I apologise and I won't do it again."

Somewhat flustered by a turn of events he wasn't expecting and a reply which, for all its expressions of contrition, in tone almost came across as a slap down, the manager looked across to me.

"Monsieur, is the other Mademoiselle well?"

Even allowing for the awkwardness of expression his formal French English might produce, it struck me as a slightly impertinent question. Was he trying to embarrass me in front of Ellen by letting her know I had another woman with me the previous night? About the only legitimate concern he might have as a hotel manager was that I'd had a succession of hookers in my room. In defence of the girls, it was for that reason I decided to give him a straight answer that laid all the cards on the table.

"Yes. She back on the yacht looking after it while my other girlfriend crewperson here has her turn with me."

Which told him I had two, way too young, girlfriends who were both aware of each other. I could only imagine what that would do to his brain and the gossip circles around the hotel. I deliberately refrained from offering their names, even at risk of depersonalising Amy and Ellen, because I felt it was none of his business.

With, he no doubt felt, his duty having been done, the manager excused himself and retreated from the room.

Ellen in turn discarded her towel and her formality and did a playful, naked superman leap on top of me.

"So, I'm officially a girlfriend now am I? Wow! Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend? You are so going to have waitresses buzzing around you like flies at breakfast tomorrow. I think I'd better find a cricket bat the beat them away."

"Just because I haven't had cause to use the term didn't mean you weren't one. Mind you, 'boy' hardly seems appropriate. Anyhow, when they know you're both actually girlfriends, they'll realise I'm not available so not worth the effort."

"That assumes they get told that part of the story or even that they care. Just a plain 'another screaming orgasm' makes a much better story."

I threw back the sheet again to let Ellen roll onto the bed beside me. She settled in, cuddled against me and, as I thought she would, soon crashed into a deep sleep. Unlike Amy, Ellen seems to have been sated by our evening's activities. For the first half of the night we both slept soundly and to the extent there was any restlessness in the second half, cuddles seemed to satisfy her needs.

I was lying on my back awake in the morning admiring her naked body laid out next to me, when Ellen too drifted into wakefulness. As our eyes met, she stretched out her long limbs, in the process closing the tiny gap between our bare flesh and wrapped herself around me.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. That was such a lovely night. Thank you. I suppose I should be embarrassed about the way I was sex talking and coming on to you all the way home, but I'm not. It was fun letting myself go like that. I've never done that to anyone before."

"It was delightful to see you so uninhibited. But I thought you might not even remember it this morning."

"Oh no. I was nowhere near that drunk. Anyhow, there's no way I ever want to forget an orgasm like that."

Ellen looked across the bed to the clock and added...

"Goodness, is it that late? We'd better head off to breakfast soon. Did you come up with that cricket bat for me?"

As I lay on my back, Ellen settled in with her arms wrapped around me and her head on my chest. She purred as I stroked her beautiful long blonde hair, gliding my hand across her head and then letting a bunch of hair slip between my fingers as I traced its lovely, silky length all the way down to its termination in the small of her back.

Inevitably such intimate contact had its effect and right under her eyes my manhood swelled, stood upright momentarily as it repositioned itself from its original flaccid resting spot between my legs and flopped onto my stomach. From there, it completed its growth, expanding in girth as its tip inched itself suggestively in the direction of Ellen's downturned face.

Ellen playfully stroked it up and down with the tip of a single finger; causing it to surge.

My physical reaction didn't really mean I wanted sex. Not after last night. So I was rather glad when she seemed content to let me keep stroking her hair while she played teasingly with my engorged member. After about five minutes, it was Ellen who broke the spell.

"Well, I suppose we'd better get up and go to breakfast."

With a planned walk along the seaward beach of the Island after breakfast, Ellen dressed in one of her 'fuck me' bikinis covered only the tiny mini skirt she arrived at the resort in. I went for speedos under shorts and a polo shirt. With a beach bag with hats and a few other necessities we headed off for breakfast and what, frankly, was one of the most bizarre mornings of my life.

We were no sooner out the door than we were confronted by the sight of a room cleaner's trolley with its operator bent deeply over it; apparently fiddling with something at its furthest reaches. With her white cleaner's pareo hitched high, her whole butt and crease were on display, clearly showing she had nothing on underneath.

As she heard our approach she stood up and turned towards us. Like most of the female hotel staff, she was quite a beautiful Tahitian local, probably in her early 20's. What was immediately noticeable was that her pareo was held up by being hitched over only one breast. The other was fully exposed; a sizable perky orb, capped by a large dark nipple. Feigning ignorance of her exposure, she beamed a broad smile at us.

"Good morning Mr O'Neill. Would you like me to make up your room while you're at breakfast?"

I cast a quick look at her name tag; not an easy task since it lay in the fold of material under her exposed breast.

"Good morning Mohea. You may, but are you aware we're checking out today, but not until 2.30?"

"Yes Mr O'Neill, but I thought you might like the room freshened up for you. I'll make it again after you leave."

"Thank you Mohea."

As we continued hand in hand down the boardwalk, Ellen nudged me in the shoulder.

"You flirt. Where's that cricket bat. Did you see how the flower behind her right ear was turned backwards. That means she was telling you she was immediately available; as if her pussy display as we walked out the door wasn't doing that anyway. I bet she's left her telephone number in the room when we get back."

"What do you mean about the flower?"

"Those flowers they wear in their hair aren't just decorations. They tell you about their sexual availability. Left ear is taken, right ear is available, both ears means married but available anyway and backwards means available now."

"Where did you learn that?"

"I was doing some cultural research while waiting on the yacht yesterday. The missionaries weren't entirely successful in imposing their conservative sexual mores. The local culture has managed to retain some of their original more relaxed attitude to sexual engagements."

I didn't have time to explore further. The path to the breakfast room seemed rather crowded with hotel staff that morning.

Two cleaning staff, both very young and attractive women, stood on the side of the walk letting us past. Their eyes had been on us from the moment we'd left Mohea and they giggled and whispered to each other as we approached and both had flowers displayed backwards behind their right ear. In what was intended to look like an accident, but clearly wasn't, one of them brushed her arm across her body in a way that lifted the front of her Pareo, revealing a rather cute but very naked mound covered only in a well trimmed bush.

"Good morning Monsieur, Mademoiselle."

"Good morning ladies."

Four more of the staff just seemed to happen to be idling along the path we took to the breakfast room that morning - every other morning there'd been none. Two of them were young women showing enough breast that their areolas were half exposed over the top of their pareos, but the other two were guys. The latter two were topless, dressed only in their lap laps and had been seen to reposition themselves onto the side of the path where Ellen was as we approached. While they were trying to look nonchalant, I'd noticed them suck their stomachs in and lift their chests out as we'd approached. I'd also noticed Ellen start to sashay in a somewhat sexually suggestive way.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle, Monsieur."

Ellen flicked her hair and beamed them a smile.

"Bonjour."

Distracted as I watched Ellen and the boys, I felt a body gently collide with me on the other side, the natural swing of my arm as I walked causing my hand to slip between the legs of the other person. In that instant it took me to respond to the contact and turn towards her, even with the relative insensitivity of the skin on the back of my hand, I realised it had come into contact with the naked crease of a woman. A very damp naked crease.

As you do in that sort of collision, instinctively I stopped, froze and turned toward the woman standing millimetres away from me to find that the contact had dislodged the precarious hold her garment had previously had on her breasts and that they were now exposed. Indeed, since the projection of her breasts had largely been holding the garment up, it was rapidly slipping off her body. Her friend, standing behind her, held her hand over her face as she giggled at the charade.

"Bonjour Mr O'Neill. Pardon, I wasn't watching where I was going."

Even as she spoke and while standing millimetres from me, she had grabbed the garment, unwrapped the front to open it up and in the process revealed her full nakedness to me; a somewhat stunning full nakedness. Then in no great haste to block the view I had, she hitch it back to breast height and wrap herself back in it.

"Excuse me Mr O'Neill. I had a clothing malfunction."

She offered me her hand. Dumbfounded by the events, I took it and shook her hand, letting her pin me in place as she looked me in the eyes and offered a beaming smile.

"I'm Tahea. I work in reception."

I felt Ellen pinch my butt.

"We need to get to breakfast."

"Sorry Tahea, I was the one not watching where I was going. Enjoy your day."

"I intend to Mr O'Neill. I intend to. But it's off to a good start. What do you have planned?"

"After breakfast, we thought we might go for a walk up along the northern beach."

"It's very beautiful. I'm sure you'll find some delights up there."

As we walked on, I noticed Ellen was still putting on an exaggerated swing of her hips as we walked away from the guys. Now it was my turn to comment as I teased...

"Now who's flirting? I saw you walking like that."

She gave me a playful wack on the butt.

"Yea, well, you just had a woman deliberately expose herself to you. What's good for the goose is good for the gander."

I remained acutely aware of the thought I had Tahea's dampness on the back of my hand. I lifted it up to look at it. I could see it glisten in the morning light and brought it to my nose to take in the wonderful aroma of a woman. It wasn't water. Something had made her very aroused. I felt the dampness with the finger of my other hand, smearing its slippery texture across my skin.

Ellen noticed and elbowed me in the ribs.

"Is that what I think it is? Did she slime you? The bitch. Where's that cricket bat?"

What struck me when we entered the breakfast area was that there seemed to be more staff on duty than normal and, except for Raphael, they were all young women. I quickly discovered it was no accident.

We were shown to a table outside next to the pool by two waitresses. Because they pulled the chair out for each of us, we dutifully sat down, even though we knew we'd shortly be getting up again to select our breakfast from the self service area.

After I thought they'd left, I sat back in my chair with my hands spread lightly gripping the edge of the table, about to suggest to Ellen we go and get some food, when one of the waitresses came back, slipped her pareo over my hand and leant on it as she bent and reached across to fill my and Ellen's water glasses. As she did, I felt the raised knuckles of my hand lightly worked down into and through her naked crease.

The glasses filled, she stood upright with her crease still on my hand and half turned towards me.

"Good morning Mr O'Neill. I'm Rarhu. Can I offer you anything more?"

"I think that's enough for now Rarhu. We're about to get some food."

And that, pretty well, was the story of that breakfast. There were six waitress in the room and in the hour and a half from when we left our room until we'd finished breakfast, I saw and touched up as much pussy as I had in my whole previous life. Every time I left a hand or elbow projecting anywhere, it seemed to find itself under the hem of a pareo. The coffee was topped up after every sip and every time I moved I seemed to find myself in collision with a waitress, often with a clothing malfunction following. Every plate or other item on our table which gave even the slightest impression of being finished with was cleared immediately, usually accompanied by a butt or breast exposing bend over the table.

It became a game; leaving a hand on the edge of the table to see how quickly it was claimed by another pussy and with what flimsy excuse and increasingly, how damp they were.

By the end I could tell you who was wearing the cute pink satin thong, who had the lace thong and who had no underwear at all (the rest of them). And among the rest I knew who had a Brazilian and who had bush. I could even describe most of their breasts and nipples and give you a pretty good guide to how easily aroused they were.

And yet it was all done with a subtlety that seemed not to attract the attention of other guests.

Ellen was cacking herself laughing at the whole, never ending game; more so as I ended up being slipped three pieces of paper with names and phone numbers on them.

As we left, the six of them all came over to say goodbye, like at some official engagement. Ellen waited until we were out of earshot.

"So, how many pussies did you just touch-up over breakfast?"

"All six of them."

"Were they all naked?"

"No, two had panties."

"Wet?"

"Well, at least half were fairly moist."

"You know the irony of this don't you?"

"What?"

"When we got here, you were concerned I'd be embarrassed about being seen to be in an intimate relationship with you. Now I've got women even younger than me wishing they could displace me in your bed. And guys thinking that, if she can keep you happy then she must be a bit of alright, so they're ignoring all the stunning local beauties to chase me."

"They'd be chasing you anyway. But I suppose it does make me more comfortable about publically showing affection towards you without embarrassing you."

The icing on the cake for the morning - if I can call it that - came as we were strolling back along the beach towards the hotel after our morning walk and swim.

The sun was still low in the Eastern sky and the sea was an ocean of reflected light. Just beautiful in that way that only tropical waters can be.

We were still only dressed in swimwear; enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on our bodies as we let it complete drying us off after our swim.

Somewhere not too far up ahead, obviously off in the bushes to the side of the beach, we heard a drum start up a fast beat. It continued as we approached until we came to the point where we could see what was happening.

There was Gloria and Tahea, dressed only in tiny, red mini wrap skirts, both split to the side knots holding them together low on their right hips. They were both dancing in that somewhat familiar hip twirling Polynesian style. I've seen plenty of tourist versions of the dance in our travels; but this was something again even allowing for the fact it more accorded with the Tahitian version.

In almost perfect synchronicity, they danced without their feet seemingly moving; their hips swaying and circling powerfully from side to side apparently driven only by the strength of their stomach and thigh muscles. They both had beautiful, tall, slender, womanly figures that had only been hinted at under their work pareos; even when I got a look down the full length of Gloria's when she'd bent over the table. Indeed, they were gorgeous; flawless brown skin, impressive breasts, and beaming smiles that lit up their beautiful faces. I felt my cock swell a bit just at the sight of them.

The only other parts of their bodies that moved very much at all were their arms which seductively moved from out stretched to their side to overhead and then out to the front. Amongst all this movement, their sizable breasts, still perky in their youthful beauty, merely wobbled sexily.

They beamed us another smile as they saw us come into view. Gloria cast a quick look across to Tahea and, as one they turned on the spot, their cute butts now the focus of attention as their fast hip sway and circling continued with their arms held above their head, elongating their figures. Another quick glance across from Gloria and they turned back. As they did, they loitered with their right side facing us for just a moment; the movement of their hips flipping the split skirt open enough to make it quite clear they had nothing on underneath.