More Than Time Can Heal a Broken Heart (a Memory)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 18: Spf
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 18: Spf - This is a SLOW BURN story with the real sex only in the last 1/3 though some masturbation in earlier parts. While graphic the sex is very vanilla. This story focuses on when I was newly 18, inexperienced & insecure and my boyfriend of 4 years dumped me. The main purpose is to give those of you reading my Infidelity/Cheating series some background on me. This can be read as a stand alone. It is also not necessary to read this in order to enjoy my Infidelity/Cheating series.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual True Story Oral Sex
We got out. Lounges again. Heat again. Carrie, who should have been banned from having ideas, looked at Andrew like she had just been handed a gift.
“Rub some sunscreen on my back,” she said. “Just do not cop a feel as you did with my friend.”
He mumbled that it had been a mistake. She laughed. I wanted the lounge to swallow me and release me in another zip code. He did her back with the brisk competence of a brother who had been asked to do this before. She gave him instructions anyway. There. Not there. If you go under the strap, I will tell Mom. He told her she was exhausting. She told him he was bad at applying lotion.
When he finished, she turned her head on the towel and smiled at me with evil in it.
“You should do Beth too. She is getting that pasty skin of hers all red. As long as you can stick to the skin that is not covered by fabric.”
I sat up so fast the lounge complained. “I can do it myself.”
Carrie pushed me back down with two fingers and no mercy. “No, no. He has already touched more than just about any man on the planet. Putting sunscreen on you now should not be a problem. Right, Andrew?”
He was quiet for a second that lasted too long. “Sure.”
He moved behind me and above me. I went rigid. Nervous did not cover it. I shot Carrie a look that should have left a mark. She smiled, closed her eyes, and offered her face to the sun like a person who had done her damage and was clocking out.
His hands started on my calves.
His hands were strong, steady, sure in a way that did not match the blushing in the kitchen. The lotion went on cool, then warmed under his palms, and I felt myself unclench in pieces I hadn’t permitted to unclench. He worked up my legs slowly and stopped at mid-thigh like the next few inches were a cliff. I knew why. He moved to the top of my shoulders instead, then my arms, then the long open plane of my back. It felt good. It felt better than good, which was a problem I’d have to live with.
I could feel him shifting behind me in a way that was not about lotion. His movements became awkward, almost careful, like his body had become something he was trying to keep off mine. I lifted my head and looked back.
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