A Threesome in a Covid 19 World

When I woke up early the next morning, Ellen was still sound asleep next to me.

As we'd gone to bed the previous evening, I hadn't been sure how the night was going to play out. Last time we'd slept together, Ellen had instigated sex - it's hard to remember after 5 five years - but I think it was six or seven times before we got out of bed late the next morning. But that was in the knowledge that it would be the last time we ever slept together; a big bang to finish with.

It would seem that, having been admitted back into the family and found a degree of sexual release, her next greatest need had been the sleep of which her circumstances had denied her for so long. So I was keen not to wake her.

I was just contemplating getting up when Amy snuck into the room, climbing naked into the bed and snuggling up against my back before I could even turn around. The hand that came over my hips and embraced what had still been a firm residual of my night erection and rapidly inflated into a full hard boner made it clear she was here with an expectation.

I wasn't really surprised to have Amy do that. To say Amy likes, indeed needs, her sex is an understatement. Her wanting sex at sometime overnight - whether evening, morning or in the middle of it, or a combination of any or all of those - is a daily occurrence.

It was nice of her to have surrendered me to Ellen for us to restart our physical relationship. That was no small sacrifice by Amy and I could well imagine that, in Amy's mind, the ice having been broken, we'd just go back to the sort of group sex we'd had all those years ago.

The reason for Amy's insatiable sexual appetite has always been something of a curiosity to Liddy and myself.

It's been far too long lasting for Liddy's effervescence theory to be sustained; the thought that, like a shaken and released soda bottle, it was just an over the top reaction to Amy finding a loving relationship after her previous abusive one. A reaction which would quickly settle down again.

While there might be an element of that, there certainly hasn't been any settling.

My view, for what little it's worth, is that Amy is more or less addicted to the oxytocin, the love hormone, which good sex evidently releases. Blessed with erogenous zones that seemingly generously reward their stimulation, she can't be lacking in the hormonal rewards of sex, so keeps chasing it. That dodges the question of why her erogenous zones are so sensitive. It's hard to believe it is just a physical thing; something in her mental attitude must have an influence. But that of course creates a circular, self-reinforcing outcome; sensitive erogenous zones create a hormonal reward which generates a positive attitude to sex which gives her responsive erogenous zones. Or so my unscientific theory goes anyway. And maybe the change from an abusive relationship to a loving one was the original catalyst which started the self-reinforcing circle.

Either way, it's fair to say, that sort of overnight sex with Amy is neither quiet nor quick.

As I turned over in the bed to face her, she embraced me and gave me a good morning kiss. She moved her hips away and bent my erection down with the obvious intention of having me penetrate her...

"I think we should take this back to your room to let Ellen sleep in."

She lifted her head over my shoulders to give her a better view of our sleeping friend...

"Sorry, I thought she'd be ready for a threesome."

Amy slipped as quietly out of the bed as she'd entered it, then watched me as I followed her. Standing her ground at the doorway, she embraced me, kissing me with a deeply penetrated tongue as she ground her mound against my shaft. Finally releasing me from her passionate grasp, she whispered...

"Good morning. I missed you last night."

"I'm glad to hear it. I missed you too."

As we turned to walk along the long slate path that led us through the large lounge and dining rooms and then past the entrance to the kitchen towards the bedroom wing at the other end of the house, she wrapped her right hand around my back and rested it on my naked bum, while her left reached across the front of her own body and gently jerked at and played with my aroused manhood. I happily reciprocated with an arm around her and a hand on her very cute butt; but held off on putting my other hand in her crotch.

Amy was clearly feeling very frisky in a lovey, dovey, very tactile sort of way. It took me back to being a very inexperienced star crossed teenage lover promenading a randy girlfriend along the beachfront at Manly; more so because it brought back memories of fighting not to show a public erection in the swimwear I would have been wearing at the time.

Those memories were only reinforced when Amy stopped a third away along the row of glass doors out into the courtyard that lined the slate and brought me around into a half frontal embrace to kiss me again; jerking more furiously at my erection.

OK, so the teenage girlfriend from all those years ago wasn't actually jerking at my manhood in public and we weren't completely naked like Amy and I were, but as she leaned against the promenade railing and brought our crotches together as she kissed me, I lost the battle of suppressing the boner. When a few minutes later we opened out to keep walking, it was with a very obvious display of my arousal; much to her amusement. You don't quickly forget those things.

More back in the moment, I thought Amy was going to have me take her standing right there as she rested with her back against the glass.

We've done that before. Many times. Much of that whole length of glass would be smeared with Amy's DNA if we ever had reason to test it; probably mine too as I've had to turn around and brace myself against it as Amy's gone hammer and tong at me in moments of extreme passion.

But it's usually after we've come into the house dripping wet from a swim in the pool. It was part of the reason Amy was so keen to get a double sun bed with a nice thick cushion in the pool area; so she could give vent to her moments of post swimming randiness in more comfortable circumstances.

And that sort of stand up sex is by necessity a quickie; whereas Amy's morning sex is never a quickie.

As she aggressively hooked her leg over my hips and angled her crotch to rub her crease up and down the full length of my shaft, forcing me to face her more closely, I thought any upward movement could well end with her capping over the top of my erection and having me penetrate her.

But her intention became a little more obvious when, after a couple of those movements, she separated us again enough to bring her hand back onto my shaft and use a combination of the vaginal juices she'd deposited and the pre-cum she generated to spread over my shaft to lubricate her handling of it.

After a moment of expressed passion by Amy and after a bit of kissing and pecking me on the cheek, she opened us back out to continue the walk to her room; only to be immediately confronted by Gaia, Ellen's Italian au pair, standing slack jawed before us, having just come out of the kitchen with two bowls of porridge for the toddlers down the other end of the house and seen I don't know how much of our very x rated display. But since she was already half way down the passageway, perhaps trying to sneak past us, I suspect it was a fair bit of it.

There's no dignified way out of that situation. We were both completely naked, me fully aroused with Amy's hand wrapped around my shaft and otherwise in a half promenading embrace. Snapping to some sort of attention where we released each other and pretended nothing was happening wasn't going to cut it. So we just said "Sorry, excuse me."...and walked on past her. In any case, Amy orgasmic screaming was about to tell everyone in the house what was happening.

As we entered Amy's room, I made sure I closed the heavy door behind us. Fortunately I'd included this door - which is normally Liddy's room - in the upgrade I'd done a few years ago, necessitated in large part by Amy's very loud love making. Guests we had staying over, in the end of the house now occupied by Ellen's brood, felt quite awkward about the sounds of a woman screaming down the other end of the house and the previous lightweight internal doors did little to muffle the noise.

And while the sheer volume of Amy's orgasmic cries is what makes me call it screaming, I would hope they would normally be interpreted as loud pleasurable moans. Well, very loud moans. Ear splitting even. But who knows. I'm sure they felt uncertain as to whether to race to the rescue of a woman in distress or be mortified by being in the presence of such over the top erotic shenanigans. So the heavier doors were meant to help. But I know they didn't stop them being heard. Ellen had made that clear if I didn't know already.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Amy jumped on the bed and laid herself flat on her back; spreading her legs wide and raising her hips as far off the bed as was humanly possible and giving me a vivid display of her state of arousal as she gyrated her hips teasingly.

That told me what sort of sex she was asking for. What the girls have always called a g spot banger. This was going to be even louder than normal.

I climb on the bed, squatting on my hunches as I inched my thighs under Amy's raised butt until I was in a position to help her support herself in the raised posture. Rising off my haunches into a kneeling stance, I adjusted my position until I could bend my manhood down to introduce it into Amy's already receptive vagina.

The trick with Amy was to know that her g spot lay at a very shallow penetration. But initially, I fully penetrated her, tickling her cervix as I used that full immersion in her body to help pin her as I raised first one leg, then the other to a vertically upright position, half hooked over my shoulders and supported by an arm around the outside of them to pin them to my upper chest. That transferred the weight of her lower body to me, but since she was all of 52 kg and a fair part of her weight was supported by her shoulders pressed into the bed, no great burden.

Securely held, Amy dropped her lower back, bending the shaft I had buried in her body downward, but making sure as I started thrusting, I'd be raking heavily against the front wall of her vagina.

The art in the game now was to withdrawn enough to start thrusting against her g spot without accidently popping out; since it wasn't that easy to re-establish penetration with my hands occupied holding her legs up.

I slowly withdrew; able to look down between her legs and watch my shaft, glistening with her juices, emerge from her body. When I was satisfied I'd reached the right degree of penetration, I pushed myself slowly half back in, then repeated the action. On the second push, Amy moaned a little as the tip of my shaft slid firmly across her g spot.

Having ensured she was sensitive and her g spot activated, I partly withdrew again.

Now I started to stimulate her with short, sharp thrusts, slowly at first, then with increasing speed; more like the action of a jack hammer than a long piston.

Amy's moans quickly became louder, her eyes closed, her hands grasping at the bed cloths, as she squirmed about in pleasure.

That's the nice thing about making love to Amy. She certainly rewards the effort made. It can't have been even two minutes before she came for the first time; crying out as her thighs tightened and she momentarily pushed against me to have me fully penetrate her as her contractions pummelled my manhood.

And yet, even before the contractions stopped, she'd pulled back again, cocking my shaft to invite me to deliver more stimulation to her g spot.

As I started again, her moans became louder. The pattern was familiar. With her second orgasm, we seem to reach a stage where I can't really tell the difference between a new orgasm and the continuation of the previous one. There's no call to stop or pause. Instead her orgasms just seem to get more intense, her moans and cries louder until they are really best described as screaming.

There's no obvious stopping point when having this sort of sex with Amy; apart from brewing up myself and dumping my load in her or having a heart attack. It's not as though, in some sort of old fashioned, missionary way, you bring her to a climax and then reposition her to take yours; at least not if you really want to satisfy her - and who wouldn't.

While this type of sex feel's great and is enormously stimulating because of her own reactions and just the visual pleasure of watching my shaft work in and out of her body and her breasts wobble on top of her rag dolling torso, it doesn't often of itself trigger those warm sensations that tell you you're on an inevitable path to an unstoppable climax.

Just occasionally I might end up rubbing the bottom (front) of my shaft against her pelvic floor muscles in a way that triggers me, but usually not.

So it can go on for quite a while; almost to the point you think she's going to explode or just pass out with the build-up of it all.

In this case I hadn't been going all that long when I sensed the door open behind me; sensed rather than heard because Amy's cries blanketed out the noise of a mere door.

The next thing I knew, Ellen was naked in front of me, standing straddling Amy, her mons inches from my face. She took the back of my head; adjusting its position and her own stance to a point where my mouth was held against the front of her crease.

I pushed my tongue into it, easily finding her prominent clit; swollen and clearly sensitive. Ellen's not the screamer Amy is, but just the reaction of her body told me those first few flicks of my tongue were having the desired effect. Locking my tongue firmly and deeply down the right side of her bud where it was held pressed against it by her labia, I sawed it back and forwards, curling my tongue to try and flick over the top of her bud as I drew it in.

I sensed her knees nearly buckle as she reacted to the stimulation she'd been denied for so long.

But dominating the whole scene was still the rising crescendo of Amy's screams as I continued to rapidly jerk the tip of my shaft against her g spot. Even though she was in a state of virtually continuous orgasms, you still had this sense something was building to an even greater climax.

With Ellen's pussy in my face I could no longer look down and watch my shaft immerse itself in Amy's vagina and withdraw again. Now, only by feel, I had to judge just the right amount of withdrawal that would deliver a powerful stimulation to her g spot as I jerked it back in. But I'd been going at her for a while now. The muscle memory was well set, as Amy continuous cries confirmed.

Normally, when Amy's reached this state, you can feel some tensing and release through her body; which I've always interpreted - rightly or wrongly, because it didn't really matter - as giving me some guide as to when another climax had overwhelmed her or it was just a continuation of the previous one.

But this was something slightly different. Her hips and pelvic floor were doing something between spasming and jerking against my thighs and pubis; to the point it was starting to get harder to just rely on muscle memory to repeat the process of stimulating her. It was becoming more of a moving target.

Finally something broke in Amy. A sharp intake of breath proceeded an even louder string of her usual climatic profanities. She pushed herself into full penetration and just as quickly withdrew completely. Her legs, still held up along my chest, tensed and closed tightly around my head before being pulled away to let her roll off to the right of me.

I wasn't able to see her, but could still hear her moaning and groaning; the noises sometimes delivered as if her whole body was shuddering in pleasure. Somehow through it all, I heard her say...

"You take it Ellen."

I'd known these two for long enough now to know that the 'it' was my cum shot. There was always a sense of possessiveness about who took it in these group sex situations and it would normally be taken strictly in turns. So I might have thought it was Amy's turn.

Ellen didn't need a second invitation. With a better view of Amy than I had, and realising my manhood was free for her use, she all but threw me to the side away from where Amy now lay and jumped on me; penetrating herself with my shaft as she straightened both our bodies out on the bed.

For just a brief moment I got a glimpse of Amy, curled on the bed in a foetal position, her right hand between her upper thighs, the whole of her physically shaking as she continued to moan away.

Then Ellen's head blocked my view as she brought it over my shoulder with her face into the bed, as if pinning her upper body as she started to move her hips to rapidly thrust me into her body and out again. Then she rose on outstretched arms over me, into a reverse missionary.

She first pushed her mons heavily into my pubis before continuing her long thrusting, each one ending with me deeply embedded in her and her mons being ground momentarily against the base of my shaft.

It was easy to read what Ellen was doing to stimulate herself. The grinding of her mons was stimulating her clit. That's normal enough. But what's different with Ellen is that the movement of my shaft in and out of her body also stimulates her clit as she gets it to slide along it; a slight tilt and lift of her hips being all that's required to bring my manhood in its travels into contact with her usually large and fortuitously positioned bud. Knowing Ellen, the deep penetration was probably touching up her cervix too.

Fortunately, it didn't take much of that to bring Ellen to a climax. Fortunately, because her vigorous thrusting had started me brewing up in a way that pounding Amy's g spot hadn't. I would have liked to roll her over and cum on top, but there wasn't time. The slightest change in the tone of my grunts warned Ellen of my pending release. Even in the middle of her own climax, she clamped me tightly and thrust me rapidly and repeatedly in her body.

Will a loud, satisfied grunt, I shot my load into Ellen, lifting my hips and pushing deeper into her as subsequent ropes of the stuff shot pleasurably up my shaft; all until I was left a drained exhausted wreck on the bed under Ellen's delectable body.

Meanwhile, Amy was still curled up facing away from me, intermittently moaning and shaking. Flooded as she always is with oxytocin and a host of other love and bonding hormones immediately after sex, a post sex cuddle is enormously important to Amy.

I reached over and stroked down the length of her back. That induced her to roll to face us; shuffling forward to cuddle against the combined mass of human flesh that Ellen and I represented as Ellen still lay, deeply penetrated, on top of me. I'd tried slipping my arm under Amy's neck to embrace her, but having missed that moment as she'd shuffled forward, instead found my arm travelling down the front of her approaching body until my hand came to rest in her very wet crotch.

Instantly Amy seemed to have another orgasm; moaning and shuddering against me as my hand was crushed. I had to ask her...

"What happened?"

She sort of half giggled as she answered...

"I think I broke my vagina. I was just overwhelmed by this rush of crazy, over the top orgasms that wouldn't stop. I knew I was pushing it and that I'd reached the time when I should have brought you down to cum on me, but it all just felt so fantastic, like some glutton, I kept going until I went too far."

"Are you OK now?"

"Nearly, although I can still feel little after effects of it and a few residual mini orgasms."

By now, Amy had forced her lower arm under my neck and her upper one encircled Ellen's upper back, locking the three of us together in her cuddle. Pressing herself tighter again my upper thigh, which lay outside Ellen's legs, she lifted her upper thigh over mine and pushed her crotch firmly into the flesh of my leg, in the process burying the back of my trapped hand deeply into her soaking crease.