Sexy Threesome Erotica
"Wild Knots and Buntline Hitches" a sex story by Mehry Inett
He was a sailor. Not a horny-handed navy tar, although his hands certainly made me horny, and not a plump, white-bearded fisherman.
Dean was a Yachtie. Note the capital Y. It's not just there to denote my spread legs. He lived for sailing, and he was everything a Yachtie should be: tanned like a Greek god, lean like a cheetah and carrying a hint of arrogance that rubbed off from his rich friends.
Jeni nudged me as he walked in to our class. We both drooled on our notebooks when we saw his tight t-shirt and low-cut jeans. You don't get a great deal of beefcake when you major in math, especially when you're a college senior. Most of the hot guys from the first years have gone off to major in economics by then.
Dean was there because our math professor had invited him. We were doing knot theory. I won't bore you with details, but knots are interesting for mathematicians because they allow you to do all sorts of stuff with topology—you know, shapes—and there are applications in real life, for example, trying to figure out ways of untangling DNA chains.
The professor called for a volunteer, and Jeni and I both raised our hands. She's the bright one. I'm pretty clever, I'm not ashamed to admit, but Jeni is the truly gifted one in the class. She's already worked on a polynomials theory that got the head of department really excited. He's talking about publishing it. Jeni's not just clever; she's pretty, with long blonde hair and a very cute ass. My tits are bigger, and I get more attention, which can be a pain in the ass sometimes but when we go out together, we leave a trail of guys behind us.
Dean gave a demonstration of how some knots can be tied so they undo very easily, but still have incredible strength. His Australian accent made the whole thing a lot more interesting. He had me and Jeni stand up and pull on either end of a rope. He must have caught on that Jeni had the hots for him during the demonstration, because while he was tying the sheepshank, a knot used to shorten long ropes, he was talking to Jeni like there was no one else in the room. She was enjoying his attention, flicking her hair back, and doing a really good job of showing him she was listening. Guys always love that. After all the spiel about knots and their special qualities, he got us to try a tug-o-war. As we were pulling back and forth, he gave a single tug on the knot and it came undone, and Jeni and I both went flying onto our butts.
He came up to our seats, grinning, after the class ended.
"Sorry about that, girls," he said. He didn't look very sorry. The rest of the class was filtering out. "Hope you're not too sore. Can I apologize properly by taking you out for a drink?"
"It depends what sort of drink," I said. "We like the bars on Sunset Drive." The expensive ones. He smiled.
Jeni put her hand on his forearm. "Sure we'd like a drink. Now?"
We got a cab to the bar. He entertained us with some more rope tricks. It wasn't very late when I floated out on three Cosmopolitans and a watermelon Martini. Jeni and I were on either side of him, leaning on an arm each. He could probably have carried us both. The taxi ride back to his place was smooth. This wasn't the first time that Jenni and I had shared a guy. It's fun, because he's usually overwhelmed and not sure what to do, and we take control.
The music at his apartment was loud and Australian, and the strip poker game was quick. Jeni and I were competing hard, to see who could lose first. I won, to her black bra, white panties and single sock. For the next hand, Dean, in his jersey shorts and t-shirt raised the stakes.
"If you haven't got any clothes on, you've got to do a forfeit." The cards were not kind to me. "You've got a pair," he said, then leered at my tits. "It's a nice pair, but not good enough." He laid down his cards. "Three kings. So." He smirked at me. "What's the forfeit?"
"Um, maybe I have to make some coffee?" I said.
"Too easy."
Jeni had a wicked look on her face. "Have you still got that rope?"
She began to tie some knot around my left wrist, fumbling at it, until Dean brushed her aside. He gave us another demonstration of his knot-tying skills.
"This," he said, as he looped the rope around my wrist, "is a fisherman's loop." He tightened the rope and pulled the middle through another loop, then another. I watched his strong hands work the rope. He brushed my arm, sending a tingle along my skin. Jeni was watching him, and me, in her underwear and sock. She ran a hand over his shoulders as he concentrated. My wrist was tied to the rope with both ends still free. "Yeah, look, it won't tighten any more than that," he said. "So it won't cut off your blood supply."
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My blood supply was concentrating on other areas than my wrist. Like, my very wet pussy. I wanted him to get on with it, to let me feel his dick inside me.
"What shall we do with the other ends?" he asked, turning to Jeni. She scanned the room, and then walked over to the wardrobe. It had slatted doors, like window shutters.
"Through here," she said, reaching up and putting her hand through one of the gaps.
"Hey, do I have to stand up for this?" I didn't want to stand up. I wanted to lie down and be fucked.
Dean slapped my ass. "Get moving," he said, and tugged my arm. He lashed it to the top of the wardrobe.
"Do the other one too," Jeni said. I had my back to them, facing the cupboard, my arms above me. It felt strange. I'd been tied up before, but never standing up. My knees were weak. I could only imagine what was going to happen, and it was sure to be good. I tried to feel what it would be like to have Dean's hot cock sliding up, fucking me as I held onto the ropes. He was breathing heavily as he tied another knot, fixing me to the door.
"This is a buntline hitch," he said, pulling it tight. His t-shirt brushed my skin.
I giggled. It was nerves. "A huntline bitch?"
Jenny giggled too. "A cuntline itch?"
"I've got one of those." I wiggled my hips, waiting for Dean to scratch. But... nothing. I turned my head back to see what he was doing.
Jeni had her hand on his jersey shorts, massaging his cock through them. His bulge was thick and pointing upwards. Jeni dropped to her knees and pulled his trunks off. His cock sprang free and she grabbed it. I sighed as she enveloped his cock with her mouth, her hair falling into her face.
Dean shut his eyes as she bobbed back and forth, enjoying her mouth. He opened them, and saw me looking at him. Our gazes connected. His green eyes pierced mine, filled with joy and lust. They glazed over, lost in pleasure, and then focused on me again, smiling at the edges of his eyes.
That look. It was the horniest look I'd ever seen. I needed his cock, right then.
"Fuck me," I mouthed at him. He saw my lips move and set his gaze on me. "Fuck me," I mouthed again. "Now." The words caught fire in my throat. He tried to move, but Jeni kept sucking him and sucking him, looking up, stopping him. "Fuck me." I said it louder this time. "I need some fucking dick."
He tried to move closer, but Jeni slapped his thigh and stopped him. Dean closed his eyes and rocked his hips.
"Jeni, you bitch, let him fuck me." She ignored me and carried on, drawing her hair out of her eyes with one hand and milking him with the other. God, I was so fucking horny. I squealed in frustration, and rattled the wardrobe door.
He moaned. I thought it was all over, I thought he was coming. But Jeni had stopped, her hand still gripping Dean's cock. She was staring past him, not moving.
"Fuck." Dean groaned again. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop." Saliva spooled from Jeni's mouth. "Don't stop."
It was mystifying. She got up and scrambled across the room. "Quick. Paper."
Dean looked at me, holding his cock. "What?"
"Paper, goddamn it." She rummaged through his drawers. "You must have some paper."
"What? What are you doing?"
Jeni produced a large dry-wipe pen. "Paper!" She was shouting now.
"What do you need it for?"
Her eyes were wide and staring, as if she'd seen a vision. She popped off the pen lid and began to scribble on Dean's bedside table.
"You can't do that." He moved towards her and grabbed her hand.
"Don't." Snapping her teeth, Jeni stood up and looked around the room. Her gaze fell on me. She stalked over, and poised the pen over my shoulder blade.
"What is it?"
Her eyelids closed halfway, and she began to write on my back. The pen pulled and poked my skin. Her nose wrinkled up and her lips were pursed, as she stared at my shoulder blades. She had figured something out, mid-stroke, stimulated by Dean's cock.
He was gaping at her, cradling his balls in one hand, pulling at his erection with the other, running his finger around his foreskin. Jeni continued scribbling. She had reached the end of my right shoulder and had begun to work on a second line. She stood back and examined her work—whatever it was.
Dean came closer. He ran a hand over Jeni's back and another on my hip. She began to write again. He slid his left hand down my back and into the crack of my ass cheeks. I shivered. It was still a hot summer night, but his touch was deliciously cold. His finger traveled underneath, lingering for a moment on my asshole, and then went further, to my pussy. His fingertip was hard and rough, and Jeni's pen was stiff and soft. The two sensations mingled with the feeling of the rope around my wrists. The restraint and the scribbling and the movement of Dean's finger were intoxicating. I moaned as he worked away at my hole, pushing a finger inside, and pressing on my clit.
He upped his tempo, and I shuddered and writhed. He pressed himself against my side, holding his hips against mine, rubbing his cock, his stiff, ready, throbbing cock against my waist, rolling it with one hand like a cigar, while the other flicked and tickled me. My knees gave way, the blood rushing from my head, and blackness creeping in at the edges of my eyes. Warmth spread inside me, into my bones, then hissing out of my skin like steam. He held me up with his hands, my body speared on his hand, and the blackness held, then receded.
I felt a slap on my butt. "Goddamn it, Em, don't move." Jeni was still writing. The pen was on my spine. Its hard nib radiated pain against the rushes of blood from my orgasm. Still Dean kept going, overwhelming me, and I bounced as the pleasure turned to agony and then back to pleasure again as he worked, and I hung, shaking, helpless and transfixed by his finger.
Jeni stopped writing for a moment. Dean pushed her aside.
"Hey, I haven't finished yet." Jeni sounded pissed.
"I don't care." He positioned himself behind me and released his cock. It bounced against my leg. He grabbed my hips, lifting me, and I found some strength to stay upright. He bent his knees, and came up and underneath. I stood on tiptoes to let him in and he plunged his cock in, and up. The warmth returned.
"I haven't finished!" Jeni was shrill.
Dean ignored her again, driving himself up and up.
The dry-wipe pen appeared next to my face. "Suck it." Jeni had put the lid back on. I opened my mouth and sucked on the plastic surface, imagining it was Dean's cock. He fucked like some kind of pile driver, ramming his cock into me fast and then pulling out slowly. It was delicious.
She took the pen out of my mouth.
"Hey" Dean's upward thrust stopped for a moment. "What the fuck are you... my ass... oh, Jesus..." And he thrust again and again, quickly, and quivered and came, and the pulses of his cock shaft made me gasp. He rested his forehead on my shoulder, mixing our sweat. Jeni pushed him off, and his cock left my cunt—too soon—and he slid back. I heard him sit on the floor, still panting.
"Shit, you've made the ink run." Jeni wiped my lower back with her hand. She grabbed my panties from the floor and wiped me again, then started writing. Her breath was hot on my back as she wrote, then paused, then wrote again. She wiped small bits of skin and punched at my back with the pen, amending and correcting her formula.
"Okay." She stood back. I could barely summon the strength to turn my head round. She had finished. She was examining my back, her gaze flicking over it from top to bottom. She looked across at Dean. "You sure you don't have any paper?"
He was leaning backwards on both arms, sitting on the floor with his knees up in front of him. "Do I look like a writer?"
"Okay, no then." Jeni stood, looking and thinking. She raised the pen to her lips, then looked at it and put it down before it reached her mouth. "How about a camera?"
"No way are you taking pictures of me, Jeni Driver." I tried to look round and give her the stare, but she wasn't paying any attention.
"Sure." Dean got up, grinning wickedly. Jeni nodded, still serious.
"Great." She looked back at me. "Hey don't worry, Em, I won't take any of your face."
Dean returned with a small digital camera. "Why not on your cellphone?"
"I want to be sure it comes out," she said. There was a flash, and another flash, and a third. "That should do it."
Dean took the camera back. "What is it?"
"It's just... it's hard to explain. It's about wild knots."
He looked at her and burst out laughing. "Wild knots? You bloody math people." He shook his head. "What the hell is a wild knot?"
"One that's not tame."
He chortled again. "Fuck me. And it's worth interrupting a root for?" He examined my back. "Aw, look, it's just bullshit to me." He looked at me. "So what do you want to do now?"
"Untie me."
Dean moved towards me but Jeni stopped him. "Wait." She ran her hand suggestively along his chest, then under his t-shirt. She leaned closer and tilted her chin up at him. "What about me?"
"Hey, you guys, come on." Neither of them looked at me.
She pushed him onto the floor alongside me. "Stay there Em." She giggled.
"And no barracking." He grunted as she knelt between his legs and began to lick his dick. My shoulders were beginning to ache. I stared at the wardrobe, but Dean's moans made me twist my head around again. He was so horny. I would make use of his hands again later. It was still early.
Originally published June 2011