Shellie and I have been swingers for years, and when we go on holiday, we inevitably seek out folks at our vacation destination who are looking for to playmates like us.

A couple years ago, we planned a trip from America’s Heartland to the Pacific Northwest, a region where the number people who count themselves as “lifestylers” seems to have risen spectacularly in recent years. When we’re out of town, we tend to get a bit wilder than we do on our home turf. For instance, there’s a clothing-optional beach along a gorgeous river that we’ve enjoyed several times during our visits to the Northwest. It’s always provided opportunities for some naughty trouble, including things we wouldn’t do closer to home near prying eyes. 

As we planned our trip, Shellie was focused on being the consummate MILF. She was then just shy of 50, but she was — and still is — gorgeous. She’s no twiggy waif, that’s for sure. She’s got some heft, but she works out, and she looks as hot as hell when she’s tanned and naked on the beach. What with those big, rounded buttocks of hers complementing her spectacular tits, I’ve dubbed her the “four-time golden globe winner.” Furthermore, she’s got a friendly, expressive face and an abundance of wavy, brown hair sprawling every which way like fronds on some crazy fern. Oh, yeah — and the most beautiful green eyes ever known to man. I’m a lucky guy.

But I’m not the only lucky one. Numerous men — and plenty of ladies, too — have enjoyed lustful episodes with her during the past several years. On the occasion I’m writing about here, Shellie was in the mood for some fun with a sexy, younger man, and I was up for watching the show. I called Paul, one of our swinging friends in the Northwest, and asked if he knew of any local studs, 30-ish or younger, who would enjoy making her wish come true.

Paul knew of a couple such guys, and after getting their permission, he gave me their email addresses. We reached out to them, and both responded with stats and photos. We liked each of them, but Shellie was especially taken with Randy, a youthful blond guy of 27 with a wide smile that seemed to invite mischief. We decided to invite him to join us.

The idea was to meet Randy early on a weekday afternoon in the parking lot for the nude beach, near the building that housed the restrooms and shower facilities.

We arrived a little early, got our stuff out of the trunk, and sprawled out in a grassy area: the appointed spot. Traffic had been miserable on the freeway that day, so we had to wait about 20 minutes before we saw tanned and athletic Randy walking our way. He was wearing walking shorts, sneakers, sunglasses, a backpack and nothing else. No, wait — he also wore a big loopy grin.

“Bob and Shellie?” he asked. His voice was friendly but a bit gravelly.

“Guilty as charged,” I responded.

He and I shook hands, then he embraced Shellie with some slight awkwardness.

“Glad you were able to get away, and on a weekday, too,” I said.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” he said. But then he cautiously added: “Hey, listen.”

Oh, great, I thought. He’s having second thoughts. Or maybe he’d suddenly developed a bad case of vertigo or a bee had stung him on his dick while he was driving or something.

“I just wanted to mention,” he began, with some hesitation in his voice. “When Paul called me, he said he’d sent you the name of a guy named Brody, too.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Well, see — Brody happens to be a friend of mine. Kind of a wingman, actually.”

“Paul didn’t mention you and Brody knew each other,” Shellie said.

“He thought maybe you didn’t take a shine to his looks or something. But he’s a big fan of this beach. And he’s…”

“What?” she asked.

“Well, he’s waiting in my car at the moment. It’s a last-minute thing. Hope you’re OK with it. If you don’t want the two of us, Brody can go off by himself, and I’ll meet up with him later.”

I looked into Shellie’s emerald eyes and asked, “What do you think, babe? You up for this stowaway joining us?”

“Let me think for a minute,” she joked. Then she immediately said, “Hell, yes!” And we all laughed.

“Fuck, he’s gonna be so glad,” said Randy. “Let me go get him.” And off he went.

“Good thing I like surprises,” Shellie said to me in a stage whisper.

“No shit,” I said. “And if I know you, I’d say your heart is racing right about now and your pussy juices are flooding your panties.”

“You know me, all right,” she said, grinning.

Soon, the four of us were walking down a long pathway toward the beach that ran along an inlet, essentially a sort of freshwater lagoon. I passed around one of two big rum-filled flasks I’d brought along. Randy walked and chatted with Shellie, while Brody and I followed close behind. He was an easygoing 24-year-old guy — tall, dark, and better looking than his photo had suggested.

On one side of the water was an expansive beach where the non-nude beachgoers swam and sunned themselves. But the trail forked at one point, and a longer path took us to the sometimes muddy, clothing-optional beach on the other side of the water. At one point along the wooded trail, there was a warning sign: “Attention: Nudity allowed beyond this point.” Shellie stripped off her top right there, letting her gorgeous boobs and aroused nipples have some air and sunlight as we continued walking.

The trail had several branches that ran off the main path to secluded clearings. Shellie and I had a favorite spot where we liked to park ourselves — maybe a couple hundred yards from the water. Fortunately, this being a weekday, the park was not overcrowded, and no one else had claimed the small oasis where we’d planned to spread out the old, ugly quilt we always took with us when we visited this spot. How many times had we paid the airline extra money to get it across the country and back?

Soon everyone’s clothes came off, though I kept on my boxer shorts. I stationed myself on a towel several yards apart from the quilt, where my naked wife and her two virile companions sprawled. Energetically, they lathered tanning lotion on one another’s bodies. The strong, toasty smell of coconut oil soon wafted through the air. Shellie and the guys sprayed mosquito repellant on one another, as well, adding another note to the tropical aroma.

The weather was beautiful. The oak leaves and conifer branches danced in the gentle breeze. A crow cawed, and smaller birds twittered. In the distance I could hear people splashing in the water and an old ABBA song playing on someone’s boom box.

My dick sprang to life as I watched Randy massage Shellie’s shoulders, while she lay on her stomach. He put his face near hers and teased an earlobe with his tongue. How did he know instinctively that little trick would drive her wild? His cock was broom handle-stiff and the glans was as purple as a plum. Soon he positioned himself, so she could begin sucking that raging erection.

Meanwhile, Brody was all about Shellie’s formidable buttocks. He buried his face in her crack and began tonguing her bunghole. She made a purring sound as she continued to lick and suck Randy’s engorged penis. Clearly, this was not the first time these two guys had teamed up to make nasty love to a woman.

For the better part of a half hour, the three of them cavorted in the Eden-like setting. All the while, I gently massaged the boner that had sprouted in my shorts.

There was a rustling here and there in the nearby undergrowth. Other beachgoers were apparently getting an eyeful of the shameless sexual acts that Shellie was engaging in with Randy and Brody. The strangers’ faces and even their genders were obscured by the foliage, but the wide-ranging tones of their bodies — black, brown, white, crimson with sunburn — could be glimpsed as the voyeurs pleasured themselves while watching the lewd show. Most of them — if not all — were probably male.

I was totally nude now, and my dick was pointing toward the sky like a spear.

The three stars of this pastoral peep show grew increasingly verbal. At one point, Shellie and Brody were on their knees, facing each other. Shellie began sucking the nipples on his hairy chest, and he egged her on loudly: “Yes, lick my tits, baby. Suck them hard.” Meanwhile, bronzed, muscular Randy was probing her ass with an eager index finger. Then Brody turned the tables, suckling Shellie’s bodacious boobs, while Randy strapped on a condom. Properly attired, he edged his big hard-on into her lubricated anus, and the trio shifted so he could fuck her ass in doggy position. I moved a little closer to the quilt, fapping away as my dong drooled pre-come.

Randy proved his strength by flipping over onto his back and hoisting the impaled Shellie with him. His prong was thrust to the hilt inside her tight ass. He pumped away as she fired off all sorts of obscene orders: “Fuck my ass, baby. Fuck my fat ass.”

“Can you use a pecker in your pussy too, ma’am?” asked Brody.

“What do you think, Randy?” Shellie teased. “Do you think Brody can climb on, too?”

“Judging by all the pussy juice that’s running down onto my nuts, I’d say hell yes,” he answered in his husky voice.

Putting on a condom, Brody positioned himself so he could plunge his cock into her gushing cunt. After sliding it in deeply, he kissed her on the mouth. Then all three of them began rocking and rolling, their interlocking bodies forming a lusty bundle of flesh.

A couple of the bolder voyeurs in the greenery inched closer to the quilt. But I put my hand up to wave them back, and they quickly complied. But the sounds of furtive masturbation were now audible from all sides as my wife and her avid MILF fuckers rocked to an explosive climax. As the lads spewed into my wife and she moaned with orgasmic fervor, I shot big ropes of semen that splatted onto the loamy earth. There was a smattering of applause from the assorted voyeurs as they retreated from our little clearing.

Once the onlookers had all departed, the four of us lay back on the quilt and exploded in a release of laughter that was almost as cathartic as our roaring orgasms had been.

Shellie and I returned to the beach two more times during our stay in the Northwest, and Randy and Brody joined us for each excursion. It was a fantastic summer idyll that we would often remind ourselves of when we were back in the Midwest with snowy weather fast approaching.