SPF Me

by Holly Wilde

The whole line is supposed to be all organic, with nut based moisturizing properties.

I dig around in my tote in search of my new bottle of SPF 69. Moving aside my new stick sunscreen, the spray bottle and even the zinc that I plan on using for extra coverage, I realize I may have gone a bit overboard with the suncare. In the corner of my bag I find the one I’m after. The bright pink bottle with gold lettering has a phallic design, which I imagine the marketing geniuses stuck with in order to go viral. Still, all of the testimonials I’ve seen say that it really is a miracle cream, and the ingredients match even the most exclusive brands I’ve splurged on. I shake it, squirt some out, and lather it on.

“If I remember correctly, our last girls trip we ended up sharing a guy,” Gianna smirks. “Too bad there’s no hotties with giant cocks here now,” I giggle. “That really is the only thing missing. Maybe we can head out to a local restaurant and scope out the bar to see if anyone else is enjoying the summer heat.”

Would you rather have to always smell like monster jizz, or wake up with the taste of monster spunk in your mouth for like, a whole hour?”

As my head pops up, my ears are met the voice of a man. Listening, and trying to identify the location of the person speaking, I quietly place my hands onto the rounded concrete. The pool has me relaxed and the rosé has me feeling frisky. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping someone was here to help me enjoy the summer sun a bit more than I already have. The mystery voice is deep, stern and quiet. He sounds far away, yet close at the same time.

To my surprise it’s not just one hottie, but four hunks, and by the looks of it they were waiting for me to get out of the pool. Folding my arms up onto the gray concrete, I rest my chin on my hands and take them in, smiling as I enjoy the view. My four brand new bottles of Sentientscreen are all perched on the edge of the lounge chair. There’s my stick sunscreen, the spray bottle, the container of zinc, and at the end is SPF 69, only I didn't move them out like that. And I certainly didn’t give them arms, legs, and the devilish grins they are giving me. “What brought you to the party?” I ask the quartet. “I’m pretty sure you did, gorgeous.” Zinc’s tone is dripping with swagger.

“The only thing melting today is going to be you as you quiver around my face.”

The bottom of the filmy layer forms a heavily shadowed v, carved like an arrow pointing down to a tiny cock swinging in the wind with every step.

“Did I get you wet, sweetheart?” “Maybe just a little,” I laugh.

With more of a boxy frame, Stick has broad shoulders and incredible back muscles. Even if his core isn’t as ripped as Spray, it’s clear to see that this guy is strong. Floating on his back, his semi-hard dick bobs to the surface, his tip tucked away inside the foreskin. Zinc is the most protective of the bunch, so I’m not surprised at all when he saunters over with dad-bod softness. There’s a hint of firmness under the rounded metallic silver pot of his body. His cock, on the other hand, isn’t hinting at anything. It’s fully erect and casting a shadow on the ground like a sundial as he approaches us.

Stick comes over beside 69 and says, “I, for one, wanna hear you scream my name while I stretch that sweet pussy of yours around my face.” “Holy shit, Stick, can’t you treat her like a lady before you just say whatever pops into that filthy head of yours?”

“I apologize for our friend, but to be honest, we are all a bit bottled up here. It’s hard to contain ourselves when we’re holding back a thick load. I mean, just an hour ago you were coating your hands with us and stroking across your skin. We just want a repeat where we can do the stroking, and you can sit back and enjoy.” “They don’t call us skincare for nothin’. We are here to care for every single inch of your perfect body.”

“As much as I hate seeing skin turn pink, I can’t wait to get a look at those sexy tits of yours.”

“Fuck yes, but now it’s time for you to go for a ride,” says Spray. Stick is quick to agree, “Yeah, get your sweet ass out of the pool so we can show you what we can do for our beach babe.” “Hop on top boys!” They move off from the comfort of my inflatables so I can flip onto my belly. The four sun-men take their perch on top of my back and I ferry them across the pool over to the stairs.

Tilting my body up slowly when I get to the stairs, the guys slip down off my back like I’m a human slide. As if they planned this, I feel multiple hands grip the waist of my bikini bottoms and tug hard. The four of them go under, ripping my clothing from my body as they dive. I step out of the leg holes one at a time while climbing the stairs. Getting out of the pool, I look back and see the pink triangles of my bikini waving from the other side, the straps floating out like arms reaching for their counterpart. The bottoms are floating idly on the steps, bouncing back and forth between the sunscreens as they figure out how to exit the pool.