Erotica, Humor, Series: Mr. and Mrs. Shameless

Mr. and Mrs. Shameless go to the beach

“What are you doing, Daddy?” She’d just finished re-applying sunblock to her bikini-clad body on the large blanket they’d laid out on the sand. A few feet away, her husband was using a small plastic bucket he’d found to dig a hole.

“I’m digging a hole, pumpkin.” The afternoon sun was bearing down on his back. She leaned back and wiggled her bottom against the soft blanket.

“What for, though?”

“You’ll see,” he responded.

It was a weekday getaway, the kind that retired suburban men with their much younger wives could take without the bother of dealing weekend the crowds and families. There was another couple laying side by side, reading about twenty yards away. In the other direction, a small group of college-aged youngsters were kicking a soccer ball around far enough away that their laughter and cheers blended into the sounds of waves crashing and gulls squawking.

It was almost like having a private beach all to themselves.

A few minutes later, he mopped his brow and looked over at his wife, who was leaning back on her arms, squirming. He smiled through squinted eyes and called her over.

“Give Daddy a kiss,” he murmured as she stepped close to the edge of the hole to look inside. It was large enough for her to lay down in it. With an eyebrow raised, she leaned forward and onto her tip-toes for a kiss. He reached around and pressed his palms against her ass. “You enjoying your new beach toy?” he asked.

“Mmm. Yes, Daddy.” She pushed her butt back against his palm as it wiggled inside her.

“Top off,” he ordered.

She giggled, looking around. The boring couple with their noses in books wouldn’t notice, but as soon as she’d stood up, some of the soccer kids had gotten a little distracted by their public display and were definitely watching.

Turning to face them, she pulled the string behind her back and released her tits to the ocean breeze.

The soccer ball rolled down the slight incline into the water and bounced along the shallow waves, forgotten.

Meanwhile, Simon had produced a pair of alligator nipple clamps from the cooler. “These should be nice and cold now,” he said as he reached around from behind her to fasten them onto her already pert nipples.

He sank his teeth into her neck and she threw her head back with a groan. “Mmm…Daddy…” she mumbled.

“Get in the hole,” he ordered.

She hopped down into the hole and lay in it, all smiles, while Simon waved the small crowd of onlookers over.

“Help me cover her up,” he called out. Three of the guys rushed over, while the two women stayed back and whispered in low tones.

With four sets of arms, it only took a few minutes to bury her up to her neck.

Standing over her, Simon pulled a small remote control out of his pocket. “Let’s see if this works through three feet of sand,” he declared.

By the time each of the guys had had their turn with it, the quietly reading couple had picked up their stuff and moved further down the beach.

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