Oz Beach Boy and Byron Bay Oldies

NOTES: This is a threesome sex story featuring a 25-year-old man and two women in their early sixties. It features CFNM, female-of-male body worship, and various sex acts. All characters are over eighteen. Though some parts of this story actually happened, it is essentially a work of fiction. I am endeavouring to gradually write an "Oz Beach Boy" CFNM story in every Literotica category. This entry: "Mature".

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It was a warm, humid summer's night in Byron Bay, Australia. I was on the streets and on the prowl.

For a 25-year-old, sex addicted, exhibitionist Aussie male always on the lookout for raunchy fun of any kind, the famed holiday town of Byron Bay is nothing short of a fragrantly sexy paradise.

Back home in Sydney, I like to get naked in front of willing women whenever I can, often at the secluded bays and rocky ocean-side areas not far from my home.

I'm tanned, tall, muscular and ridiculously, embarrassingly well hung, so my exhibitionist escapades have yielded more than a few enticing opportunities.

Byron Bay offers up even more exciting possibilities. There are beaches crowded with gorgeous, bikini-clad women, as well as secluded stretches of coastline where you don't need a swimsuit at all.

It's a loose, libertarian hot-spot favoured by the rich and famous, as well as the bohemian and the down-and-out, and those simply looking for a good time.

I was enjoying my second glorious day in Byron Bay, where I was taking a too-brief four-day vacation. It's one of my favourite places to holiday in Australia, and I was having a wonderful time.

My first day in Byron Bay had been amazing. Within hours, I'd been propositioned by a gorgeous hippy street performer who lived in the bushes by a remote stretch of beach.

We made love on the sand under the trees, and my mind was promptly blown by the incredible sensual abilities of the beautifully named Arlo Moon. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy's Byron Bay Hippy Tryst"]

My second day in Byron had been spent walking around the town centre, strolling the surrounds of Main Beach, eating at Bistro 6 (one of the great restaurants on the main street), and then grabbing a drink at Qwerto, one of Byron's funky bars.

I also lazed around on the beach in my skimpy bikini-style Speedos, posing madly and desperately trying to get a little female attention.

Despite flexing my considerable muscles and stretching out my bare torso in a stunning display of primping narcissism, the response was muted at best.

Two fortysomething mothers shamelessly checked me out while their kids made sand castles near the water, and a group of young women watched me and giggled, but there wasn't enough to work with. I had to accept that I'd come up empty.

If they'd shown more keen and obvious interest, I might have let my enormous cock "accidentally" fall out of the side of my Speedos, or I might have "accidentally" let my towel drop while changing out of my Speedos underneath.

I love showing off my naked body to women, but only if they're obviously interested. I wasn't sure about the excitement levels of these two groups of ladies, so I let it slide.

Disappointed, I went back to my hotel, The Harrington, stripped naked, and googled my phone for sexy images of WWE star Rhea Ripley.

I'd actually had incredible sex with her a week previously [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Wrestles Rhea Ripley"], and our amazing tryst was still blowing my mind.

I had a quick but extremely satisfying pull in the bathroom while mentally reliving every second of my steamy, incredibly physical experience with Rhea.

I enjoyably blasted semen into the toilet after a couple of minutes, which instantly and thankfully relieved my roiling, pent-up sexual tension.

Come nightfall, I happily knew that I would get another chance. Pretty much every night in Byron Bay is like a Saturday night, with the bars and pubs packed, and drunken, drug-fucked people strolling noisily up and down the main street.

More excitingly, many groups of ladies holidaying together often move from bar to bar by night, laughing, carousing and having a good time.

Via a sneaky selection of oft-used methods, I always try to get myself amongst them, with varying degrees of success.

It was 11:00pm on a Wednesday night, and Byron was quietly buzzing, with many people out enjoying the warm night air and good vibes.

I'd devoured a chicken schnitzel with salad and chips at The Beach Hotel, and sat opposite the water checking through a few work-related emails on my phone for an hour or so.

But I was soon horny again. I was casually dressed in denim shorts, a t-shirt and sneakers, with my trusty Speedos beneath my clothes just in case I wanted to take a late night swim.

I walked the main street optimistically, scanning desperately for any groups of women that looked like they might be up for a good time.

I heard loud, obviously feminine giggles from across the street, and saw a group of young ladies, likely in their mid-twenties, goofing around with a shopping trolley that obviously belonged to the local supermarket.

There were four of them, and they were all attractive and well dressed. They were also obviously drunk, likely after spending a few hours in one of Byron's pubs or bars.

While one tall, skinny girl recorded the silly activity on her phone, two others spun a fourth girl around in the trolley while she screamed and laughed wildly with her legs flapping in the air.

Passers-by looked at the clowning, boozy girls with bemused smiles but little more, as it was pretty benign behaviour for Byron.

I was instantly intrigued, and quickly crossed the road a little down from the four girls. I then headed hopefully in their direction.

"Spin me faster, you bitches," the girl in the trolley laughed as I approached. "Make me spew, you fuckers!"

As I got closer, I quickly peeled off my t-shirt to reveal my heavily muscled bare torso. I flexed my biceps and then casually tossed my shirt across my shoulder.

"Ooooh, who's your daddy?" the girl filming on her phone laughed when she noticed me. "Yummy, yummy...look at his tummy!"

I smiled and then the girl turned the phone on me, obviously still filming. Her friends all stopped goofing around with the trolley. They openly stared at me and then joined in the laughter.

"Do a pose...show us those big muscles," the girl with the phone laughed, and I promptly raised my arms and flexed my biceps in the classic bodybuilder pose. "Very nice..."

Because the girls all seemed eager and amused, I daringly decided to immediately take it to the next level, and quickly went for my pants.

But as I undid the buckle of my belt and prepared to naughtily pants myself in front of them, the girl dropped her arm holding the phone, and laughed in exasperation.

"No, no...that's too much," she giggled. "That's way too much...don't do that."

"It's not a strip show," howled the girl in the trolley, whose legs had flopped apart crudely, revealing her creamy inner thighs and red-and-black g-string. "Keep your pants on, mate!"

Obviously, public nudity was a bit much for these girls. I hoped my staged peel might have prompted an invite back to their place, but these girls were too busy having silly, drunken fun together, and sex didn't really seem to be on their agenda.

I quickly buckled my pants and continued to walk on with a cheeky smile, which hid my extreme disappointment at how the situation had gone nowhere.

The girls all whistled and laughed as I walked away, obviously amused by our brief exchange. I looked over my shoulder and gave them a good natured smile.

"What a hunk," one of the other girls laughed. "Check out that body...hot stuff."

"I can't believe he was gonna pull his willy out right here on the street," laughed another. "He must be a bit weird...still cute though."

I did a few laps of the main street, again desperately scanning for any likely groups or pairs of women.

There were batches of guys and girls together, happy couples, and young women quietly walking home after an obviously low-key night.

There were plenty of people around, but the partying hordes were disappointingly few and far between on this warm Wednesday night.

But then I heard the welcome sound of wild feminine shrieking from across the road, and looked over to see two women grabbing each other and laughing.

They spoke animatedly with every person they passed on the street, giggling and muttering a few words before moving on with a laugh.

At a guess, the two women looked to be in their mid to late fifties, and they appeared to be roaringly, amusingly drunk, staggering uncertainly on their feet and listing hilariously from side to side.

They were big, blowsy, sexy older women, with very large, hotly heaving breasts and long hair piled high in elaborate buns.

They both wore big hoop earrings and lots of bangles, and were dressed in loose, summery, shimmering dresses with sandals.

The two women appeared to be really digging the Byron vibe, and something told me they were probably big fans of Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac. They had a loose, good-time-girl thing going, and I liked it.

Loud, drunk and confident, the two women were highly alluring in a slightly messed up, obviously mature-age, and decidedly lascivious way.

They looked like the type of women who would cheekily pinch a good looking guy's bum in a crowded pub and then have a laugh about it. In short, they looked like my kind of women.

Though not clinically diagnosed, I am almost certainly a sex addict, and I enjoy women of all ages (as long as they're over eighteen), sizes, body shapes, nationalities, political persuasions, religions and socio-economic backgrounds.

I love them all, and I love them as often as I can. As the saying goes, if it has a pulse and a pussy, I will, in all likelihood, be interested. I'm not overly happy about it, but that's just the way I am.

As the two women continued to laugh and gently push each other in response to whatever unheard jokes they were cracking, I quietly crossed the road and fell in a few metres behind them. They were too busy laughing and carousing to notice me.

"Fuck, that guy in the pub was a spunk, huh?" one of the women howled. "I could've sucked him off right there next to the bar!"

"Fuckin' oath!" yelled the other. "If he'd flopped his todge, I would've got the knee-pads out! I would've sucked his cock right off! And his nuts too!"

These women sounded like they were raunchy and ready for action. In fact, they sounded like they actually might have been a bit too much for me.

With some mild trepidation, I started to wonder if I'd be able to handle whatever it was they might dish out if we made it into bed.

Also, as I'd gotten closer, I eventually realised that these women were actually more than likely even older than I'd initially thought.

With a clearer view, I now thought they may very well have been in their early sixties, or their very, very late fifties at best. That kind of huge age difference was something completely new for me.

Though I'd had a few naughty experiences with much, much older women, the most mature lady that I'd actually had sexual intercourse with at that stage was the extraordinary Dominique St. Clair.

She was the fifty-year-old divorcee mother of my eighteen-year-old schoolgirl friend, Mia, whose virginity I had taken several weeks previously. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Does Schoolgirl Mia"]

The sex with Dominique had been exciting and passionate, and it had really increased my sexual interest in much older women.

In a hot twist, the gorgeous divorcee even excitingly offered to pass me around to some of her friends. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Meets Schoolgirl's Mum"]

The thought of being hooked up with a variety of older women who wanted to take sexual advantage of me got me incredibly excited.

I'd even masturbated several times while thinking about it as I salivated over current images of "vintage" babes like Bo Derek, Wendy Williams, Emily Simpson and Monica Bellucci.

I'd had sex with a few other older women -- including the very minor Australian TV celebrity Anjali Rao, who was 47 [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Anjali Rao Threesome"], and a 45-year-old deranged French schoolteacher [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Flips French Cougar"] -- and I'd enjoyed every encounter.

I promptly decided to take a risk and throw myself into the path of these two raucous, ribald, perhaps sixty-somethings enjoying the night-time vibe in Byron Bay.

"Do you reckon we'll ever get a fuckin' root up here?" one of the women shrieked. "I'm gettin' desperate, Shelley...I'm gonna pay a bloke to stick me tomorrow night if I don't get lucky."

"You're a fuckin' slut, Ginger," Shelley said. "I wouldn't put it past ya! You'll have to clear out the cobwebs first!"

"I'm not the only one, ya bitch!" Ginger laughed. "When was the last time you had a bloke up ya, huh?"

"Too fuckin' long ago," Shelley howled. "I don't know if it even works down there anymore!"

I laughed quietly at Shelley and Ginger's uproariously profane exchange. They both spoke in thick, broad, Aussie accents, and they were enjoyably unpolished.

From what they said and how they said it, Shelley and Ginger sounded like old-school, rough-and-ready Australian women, and I was excited.

Some would likely have used the term "bogan" -- a pejorative for Australian people from lower socio-economic backgrounds, usually from the outer suburbs -- to describe the foul-mouthed Shelley and Ginger, but I absolutely hate the expression.

I grew up in a variety of state institutions and foster homes, and I spent a lot of time in Sydney's rugged western suburbs being looked after by folks that could have sneeringly been referred to as "bogans", and they were absolutely terrific people.

Women like Shelley and Ginger were certainly familiar to me. And from what they were loudly and lewdly talking about, it didn't sound like it would be too difficult to separate them from their underwear and get something going.

It sounded like Shelley and Ginger were indeed up for sex, and I was very happy, if slightly nervous, about getting down and partying with these two bawdy, much, much older women.

I considered my approach carefully. We'd made it down to the quiet end of Byron's main street, so I didn't want to frighten the two women by just sidling up beside them and trying to chat them up.

There were only quiet residential homes around, as well as a stylish hotel called Sentoni a little further across the road, which I assumed was where the two women were staying.

I decided to strip down to my Speedos in order to instantly make myself more vulnerable, less threatening, and hopefully remotely comical.

I naturally assumed that these two older women would find a younger guy walking around in his Speedos at night to be most amusing.

I was also, of course, an absolute exhibitionist, so shucking down in front of women was always an instant and very sexy thrill.

I looked around and clocked that there was nobody else nearby. There were no cars at this end of the street either, and we indeed appeared to be alone. The rollicking Shelley and Ginger still hadn't noticed me.

As the two laughing women walked on, I quickly peeled off my t-shirt, ripped off my sneakers and socks, and then hastily pulled down my shorts. I bunched them altogether and casually draped them over my left arm.

I felt the warm night air on my bare torso, and my waxed, muscular body tingled in response to whatever it was that might just happen next.

Clad in just my black, bikini-style Speedos, I picked up the pace, and eventually caught up to Shelley and Ginger, who were still loudly giggling and utterly oblivious to my presence.

I took a deep breath, threw caution to the wind, and moved around Shelley and Ginger on the footpath, making sure there was still plenty of room between us so I didn't scare them.

"Sorry, ladies," I said, and swerved around them, which gave the women a minor start.

"What the fuck?" Ginger gasped. "Where'd you come from?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," I replied. "I'm just on my way home."

"Wait a minute, what the..." Shelley stuttered. "Why don't you have any clothes on, mate?"

"Oh, fuck," Ginger whooped and laughed. "He's in his sluggos! Look at him!"

"Sorry, I just went for a late night swim," I said, and stopped in front of the two women, flexing the muscles in my chest and arms. "It's a warm night...I'm just walking home."

"Well, look at you," Shelley tittered. "You are a good lookin' young rooster, aren't ya? And walking around with hardly anything on! Look at that body! We got Mister Muscles here!"

"Yeah, you should be careful," Ginger giggled naughtily. "A young hunk strutting around at night in front of two horny old birds like us...you might get yourself raped, young fella. Hang onto your cock, mate!"

"We could say you were asking for it," Shelley laughed. "Showing off in your little dick stickers! 'How could we not rape him, officer? He had it coming! We couldn't help ourselves!'"

"Well," I said with the sleaziest smile I could muster. "The sex would have to be non-consensual for it to be rape."

At that, Shelley and Ginger looked at each other comically, and then doubled over in fits of surprised laughter, pushing each other while their huge breasts wobbled around formidably inside their flimsy summer dresses.

"Well, I'll be fucked," Ginger howled, "literally! It looks like our dry spell is about to end, Shelley! A hot young man has just appeared magically out of nowhere and I think he just said he wants to fuck us."

"Are you serious, mate?" Shelley slurred with a look of genuine surprise on her face. "You want to have sex with us? Would you even know what to do with two old birds like us? How old are you?"

"I'm 25," I replied, "and I'd fucking love to have sex with you."

"Fuckin' hell...geez, both of us?" Ginger laughed. "You want to fuck us both? At the same time?"

"I'll certainly give it my best shot," I smiled. "I'll try to get you off..."

"Fuck, Shelley," Ginger laughed in shock, "we haven't had a threesome in years!"

"Holy fuck...this is crazy," Shelley said and shook her head. "This young spunk is gonna fuck us...holy shit...alright then, let's get up to the room. We're staying at Sentoni, just over the road. Let's go."

"That sounds great," I smiled. "Let's do it."

And with that, Shelley and Ginger sidled up on either side of me, we hooked arms, and then crossed the road toward the hotel.

On a warm night in Byron Bay, I was nearly naked and standing between two much older women that I'd only just met...I was in heaven.

"I'm Matt," I said, and immediately felt Ginger's hand slide saucily down to my Speedo-covered butt, which she proceeded to gently fondle and squeeze.

A mere second later, I felt Shelley's equally eager and wonderfully naughty hand pinching and kneading my other rock-hard butt cheek.

"We've got a cheek each," Shelley laughed. "You don't have two dicks, do you? That would be convenient..."

"I wish," I replied. "Just the one, I'm afraid..."

"Well, Matt," Shelley said, and rubbed my marbled abs, "hopefully there'll be enough to go around. I'm Shelley, and this is my best friend since forever, Ginger. We're gonna have some fun with you, Matt."

"Hopefully you'll make it out alive," Ginger giggled. "We're pretty horny, Matt...you've been warned, young fella. You look pretty fit though..."

"I'll try and show you a good time," I smiled. "You can do whatever you like to me. I'm all yours...just don't be too rough, okay?"

Shelley and Ginger guffawed loudly at this, and then they both ran their hands all over my rock-hard chest. Their long finger-nails sexily scraped across my smooth skin, and I shivered with pleasure.