A Threesome in a Covid 19 World

As I laid naked on my back, Amy smacked me playfully across my upper thigh, dangerously close to hitting my balls...

"Come on... up."

"Give me a break. You've just drained my balls and still have my cum dripping out of you. I'm not a teenager you know. It'll be a good couple of hours before I can get it up again."

Amy and Ellen had just taken turns riding me cowgirl style, with Amy taking the cum shot as I afterwards took my turn; enjoying myself as I vigorously and passionately humped her from on top. Given her usual screaming, it was a wonder she still had a voice to challenge me with.

As for the double entendre, it was a well-worn, and probably well overused joke. But it hides an enormous pride in Amy. The confidence she has developed to treat me as a complete equal, even subject me to her whims, after the decade of abusive and forced submissive relationship she suffered, is a never ending joy.

Kneeling over me on all fours, Amy eased her lithe naked body back over me like a blanket, her wet mound smearing my pubis with a combination of her juices and my own cum...

"I've seen you do it in less than an hour if you get enough cute pussy and tits waved across in front of your cock. Anyway, you know what I mean. It's time for a run."

Amy rubbed her body up and down on me, her quickly jutting nipples being dragged across my chest as she slid my manhood through her crease as firmly as its near flaccid state would permit; tickling up her clit as she smeared me with her juices. I felt enough of a reaction in my loins that, if she kept doing that I might have got it up in much less than an hour.

"But it's raining."

The El Nino weather pattern of drought we'd had for a few years had given way in the last month to the wet La Nina pattern, just as summer hit its peak. A strange pattern of 30C heat with frequent squalls of heavy, almost warm rain interspersed with body dissolving humidity.

But I knew that wouldn't stop Amy. Her continued rubbing against me had restored her nipples to the towering hard state they'd spent the fifteen minutes of our love making in, but for the time being my manhood was refusing to respond to her provocation with anything more than a slight stiffening, however much of her juices she smeared it with.

"Doesn't matter. And it's not actually raining at the moment. It's warm and only going to get warmer as the day goes on. I'm not going to hitch myself to an old fart thirty years my senior if he's going to let his body fall apart. I've got a busy day of work and we need to get going."

I turned to Ellen, lying on the bed next to me, looking for support...

"Yea, I'll come."

That sealed my fate. Still, it was nothing new or unexpected. Amy has always been one to keep herself in top condition. You don't get her figure with its ripped washboard stomach by slouching around eating chocolate biscuits. And running's just the start of it. There's one of those public exercise stations at the turnaround point of our run down by Pittwater and the 'run' is going to include a half hour workout down there.

I was one more just to keep fit with a daily routine of chores and sailing. But ever since Amy had moved in with me after we'd returned from the Pacific cruise on my yacht, the low key exercise had been supplemented with a more intensive regime at least three days a week. And since Ellen had moved back in with us, she usually came too; although for her it was optional. Amy left me no such independent decision making.

I wasn't really complaining. It was good for me and doing it with Amy certainly provided no shortage of visual entertainment along the way, with Ellen only complimenting that.

Amy got off me to let me ease myself out of bed, letting me savour as I did so the beauty of her naked body. I went over to the dresser to get some pants to put on. Amy watched me as I moved across the room, leaving me feeling a bit embarrassed about the naked 'old man' butt I was exposing to her. She noticed as I pulled out a pair of light blue shorts...

"Aw com'on, just wear speedos for once."

I must admit, the speedos were the most comfortable option, especially on a wet, humid morning like this, but...

"You know why I can't do that."

"Well wear those men's running tights we got you then."

"Same problem."

That problem was the girls' - and especially Amy's - inclination to provoke me into a full arousal during the course of our morning exercise. It wasn't so bad during the run - which was along a quiet National Park track, rarely used so early in the morning. But it was a major issue at the more public, and often busy, exercise area where some of her most provocative behaviour occurred as we exercised together.

This was a frequent debate and the compromise solution had been what I took as a pair of US style swimming shorts; a light nylon, loose fitting, very short legged pair of pants with a built in open weave mesh dick catcher. At least then, if - actually, more when - she provoked a boner it showed as an ambiguous bulge, instead of the moulded Spandex erection that speedos or running tights displayed. Mind you, I did wonder about the up leg display as I sat on the ground doing sit ups; more so since Amy always parked herself doing hers with a view straight up them.

As I put them on and turned back to her, she retorted as usual...

"Spoil sport. Your butt isn't nearly as cute in those."

Grabbing a very cut away singlet top, I indicated...

"I'll see you in the kitchen."

"Leave the top at least."

I could have. It was an optional extra, especially on a humid day like today. I really only wore to avoid the sense of having to hold my posture into some model like pose all the time.

"Only if you leave yours too."

"OK, it's a deal."

That took me by surprise. Usually that was enough to bring the word play to an end. I looked at her wondering if she'd actually go through with it. With Amy you can never tell. I decided, even if she was willing, it wasn't practical...

"We both know you can't do that."

"One day."

"I'll look forward to it."

I left the girls to get ready as I poured us each a glass of chilled water.

Amy soon emerged in her salmon pink running outfit; a rare occasion the girls aren't wearing their usual 'fuck me' bikinis at home. Not that the bikinis hadn't been tried for runs, especially while we were cruising on the yacht, and still sometimes appeared for a run along a beach. But Amy, and to a lesser but still important extent, Ellen, need more breast support for running than their tiny bikinis can provide.

Amy's full 'C' cup breasts on her slender frame were basically uncontainable in the bikini tops; bouncing wildly until they inevitably bounced out. The exposure didn't worry her, but she sensibly recognised she need more support, especially as she got older. Ellen, being younger, was able to push the boundaries a little more with her 'B' cup ones, but decided she'd be a matched pair by adopting the same outfits as Amy; more so after also dealing with the experience of being a nursing mother.

If it was a hot morning and we'd be likely to go for a swim in the bay at the exercise station, they might have bikinis under. But it was obvious - very obvious - Amy was commando this morning.

The outfit consisted of a pair of those body moulded micro shorts - the type that disappear into butt cracks and tightly hug and camel toe through mounds - low waisted and very short legged and the usual sports bra style crop top, being as cropped and cleavage displaying as Amy could find while still at least half doing its job. Both made of thin stretch material.

"Where's Ellen?"

"The au pair needed help with the toddlers. She sends her apologies."

I momentarily felt betrayed. Set up to go for a run with Amy and then abandoned.

I was contemplating piking on Amy when Ellen turned the corner into the kitchen. She had the same pair of running shorts on as Amy, but was topless; her lovely breasts lighting up as the low lying morning sun fell upon them through the bay window...

"Sorry Ned. Lucy's a bit fractious. I'm just going to cut up some vegetables for her to see if she's hungry."

She cupped my balls as she continued...

"But Amy will make sure you get the workout that mature age body of yours needs to keep up with a couple of young women."

Amy and I headed out of the property, hanging a right out of the gate to take us on the grassy road verge to the end of the street, where a National park track down to McCarr's Creek started. On the road verge, we could run two abreast, still able to effortless chat, offering me an excuse to look across and watch Amy's breasts bounce delightfully in their tops.

But as we entered the track it progressively narrowed until we had to go single file. Being the gentleman I was, I let Amy go ahead, following closely in her wake. And she knew as well as I did that there was more than one motive in following her. The sight of her glutes working magically in those tight little shorts was enough to give me a bit of a mongrel in my pants, even though I'd been sleeping and fucking naked with her just half an hour ago. Amy had been right - as she always is - there's more than one way to shorten a refractory period.

It was more than just her extremely cute butt I was reacting too.

Visually I suppose you'd add her ramrod straight back, shapely legs and the gentle flick of her sensuous hair as she ran. Both Amy and Ellen have always been fans of long hair; the sort that comes all the way down to the small of their back. This morning, Amy's sun bleached auburn hair was in a single pony tail that swung slightly from side the side like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

But the visual teases of her taut youthful body was the icing on the cake. That butt, back and body was the mortal home of a woman who I loved dearly and watching her run playfully ahead of me let me take in the undeserved fortitude of being able to intimately share my existence on this earth with her.

Amy was my most loyal, constant and loving companion of the last seven years. Kind, selfless and thoughtful to an extent well beyond any other person I've ever known. But for reasons I can only suspect are somehow a compensation for her decade spent trapped in a loveless, abusive relationship where sex was imposed on her by rape and violence, she's now become highly sexualised in every way; in her dress, interactions with me and expectations of me. She's drawn me in and wrapped me around her little finger, so enamoured of her am I, getting in her own gentle way, her every wish fulfilled. And yet, those wishes are devoid of material desires; normally only amounting to a deep desire to be intensely loved both emotionally and physically and to help others.

Ethereal tendrils of Amy's aura wafted back to me as I ran behind her, infusing themselves into my very being and teasing up my manhood from within.

The mongrel was firm enough that it had forced itself upright in the containment of my pants and bounced up and down as I ran. Don't get me wrong. I don't grow a boner at every cute butt that passes me by. But this was Amy's and it came with a whole package of history, emotion and suggestive sexualisation that only Ellen's came even close to equalling. Plus she'd developed a way of wiggling her butt at me as she ran ahead of me deliberately intended to excite.

For the last few somewhat drought prone years, navigating the track at speed had been fairly easy; the dry path offering a safe, slightly padded surface with only - apart from the deadly snakes - the occasional fallen log or rock outcrop to keep an eye out for.

After the lasts week's rain, it was much less favourable. Patches of mossy rock and slimy, slippery clay were interspaced between the sandier sections and constantly threatened a fall or a sprained ankle. Still, that wasn't going to stop Amy and she set her usual cracking pace, meaning we were both soon panting and sweating in the warm, humid conditions.

A bit of a rain squall helped. Helped temporarily cool us down and, by dampening further Amy's previously sweat stained outfit and making it cling even more tightly to her body, helped turn my bit of a mongrel into a firmer half one.

I just hoped Amy was remembering to pace herself. The run out was downhill to the Bay. The run back would be uphill; sometimes quite steeply so.

Half way down we came to a creek. For the last half decade, where the path crossed the stream was normally just a recess in the path with a trickle flowing across it; easily leaped across without even breaking step.

It hadn't always been so. When my kids were growing up and we'd go for a walk along this path, this point was usually a nice little semi-permanent water hole. It was deep enough to have a bit of a dip, had a nice sandy bottom and could only be crossed dry by using some rocks just upstream to step across on.

But when they'd cut a new fire trail through the bush higher up the hill, for the next couple of years, run off from the works had filled the hole with a fine clay. These days it only filled with water when the inrushing flow overwhelmed the narrow gap through which the water escaped at the bottom.

The creek had been rising progressively during the week. Until now, a big jump with a good run up had been enough to just get you there with little more than a shallow splash at the end and a dodgy landing on the slippery clay.

Now too wide to jump, it was about two thirds of a meter - two feet deep, and the mud much deeper than that. Because the path is fairly featureless and winding eucalyptus forest, you don't get much warning of your approach to the crossing. Amy stopped suddenly, nearly causing me to crash into her and push her in. So that left us using the upstream rocks and with careful stepping we got across more or less dry footed.

We continued down to where the track ended on the shore of McCarr's Creek, then followed the path around to the public exercise area on the shores of Pittwater. Here there was a range of simple bars set up in formats to let you do repetitive style exercises.

Amy headed for our first, which was the chin up bars. And 'our first' was the key phrase here. It had all started innocently enough, all those years ago when we first got back to Sydney from our Pacific cruise on my yacht. Amy and the other girls had always been keen to work out at this sort of stuff and insisted I join them.

Frankly, at first I was pretty awful. Barely able to get in two chin ups and half a dozen push-ups before my muscles gave up. But of course, as they kept making me do it, I got better and could soon outstrip their endurance and liked my body better because of it. That and I basked in their praise as they expressed their extra lust for me as a result.

It got massively notched up when, a few months after Ellen and Issie had both left to take up with her future husbands, Amy read an article about a guy in his 70's who did chin ups at the Bondi Beach exercise area with a young woman standing on his feet; adding her weight to what he had to lift. She turned around and showed the picture of it to me...

"I want you to do this with me."

Fortunately Amy's only 50kg, so when we tried, I didn't find it impossible. Essentially Amy stands on my feet and balances herself by holding onto the top bar. But she doesn't put any lifting effort in as I pull myself up; simply using her arms to guide herself around the other side of the top bar as I bring my chin over it.

And the human body being what it is, if you do that often enough, it builds the muscles to let you do it more easily and often; including in this case the foot muscles.

But if course, Amy being Amy, the process had to be sexualised. In the Bondi beach photo, the young lady's body is demurely separated from the guys, just enough to let you see daylight through but not so much as to throw him off balance.

That wasn't how Amy did it. Her mons was always pushed in tightly against wherever my cock was resting in my pants and her tits brushing against my chest. And as I lifted myself up and down, Amy made sure there was a corresponding rubbing up and down of my manhood and enough tit brushing to raise her nipple onto high beam.

She's even brought herself to a climax once; although she fortunately managed to supress the scream pitched moaning that normally accompanies her sexual performances. But again, Amy being Amy, that simply lifted the bar of expectations making her wanting that as the new norm. It's an ambition she hasn't managed to achieve or even repeat.

Which is why after the first few times when I could do enough lifts with her to let her body have its effect on me, I switched from the speedos I once wore for these runs to the looser fitting swim-shorts. That was because those first few times increasingly left me with a very visible and prominent pre-cum weeping erection stretching out the Spandex material.

The time she gave herself an orgasm, it was by having my engorged, Spandex sheathed manhood forced down between her legs rubbing through her crotch, leaving not a thing to the imagination. That had been a relatively quiet morning, but the problem was made infinitely worse by the fact the unusualness of the exercise tended to attract an audience.

On this particular morning she found my half mongrel already upright so simply pushed her mons against it and rubbed up and down as I went through the chin ups, quickly converting it to a hard, full arousal which was well embraced within the folds of her generous mound.

I did my regulation 20 chin ups without satisfying her desire for a climax and had a rest spell as Amy started seemingly effortlessly doing 30 of her own. My eyes were somewhat drawn to the pronounced camel toe that being pushed against my erection had left in her tight little shorts. Fortunately Amy's body's tendency to produce copious juices was disguised by a combination of sweat and rain dampness on this particular morning. But there's been some mornings I really thought she should have covered up.

The chin-ups are just the start of Amy's erotic games with me during the exercise period. Fortunately, when Ellen rejoined the family, she recognised these games as Amy's little indulgence, so while quite flirtatious in her own right, she's not tried to muscle in on it and, when she runs with us, just goes around her own routine, often following on our footsteps.

When Amy finished her chin ups, it was time for our stomach crunches. Here she makes us interlock our legs facing each other, her foot touching up my shaft and my shoe rubbing against her mound, grinning teasingly at me as her eyes rarely focus anywhere but up my loose legged shorts where her view of my balls and half erection is barely blocked by the open weave of the mesh holding them in.

The other exercise she really sexualises are the push ups. After we had perfected the chin ups with her on my foot, she decided I could do much the same with push ups. Lying under me when I start, she wraps her legs and arms around me so that I have to lift our combined weight, pushing her crease hard down against the tip of the erection she knows she'll find in my pants as I start.

Of course, as I ease myself down each time, I have to be careful not to crush her, gently lowering myself until her back is flat on the ground. In the second before I start lifting myself for the next push up Amy uses the leverage her grounding gives her to grind her crease, and no doubt her clit, against the tip of my erection before holding it there for the next lift.

Being a spoil sport, at first, I suggested to her that the proper way to do this was for her to lie on my back. But that was nowhere near sexualised enough for Amy. And as usual, she got her way.

Once again, the first time I could barely do two push ups with her additional weight. But over time, that expanded to 20, which is all she makes me do. She even reversed it, making me lie under her. But even after much effort, we're barely up to three of those, so she completes her 50 by herself.