They play with him

"Come on, John!" Lauren calls out, her hand waving in the air, "You can't just sit there and watch! Get over here and play!"

John swims to the edge of the pool, his muscles tightening as he climbs out. The fabric of his suit clings to him like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The women around him cheer, their eyes on his crotch as he tries to keep his composure.

"You're up!" Sara says, her voice a little too cheerful. She hands him a beer, the condensation cold against his skin. "You're going to need this."

John takes a deep gulp, feeling the liquid slide down his throat and into his stomach. It's not enough to dull the ache in his cock, but it's a start. He wipes his hand across his mouth and nods, heading over to the twister mat.

The women make room for him, their smiles a little too wide, their eyes a little too eager. He takes his place, his bare feet cold against the plastic. The first spin has him putting his left foot on the blue circle, leaving his legs wide open. He tries to keep his face neutral, but he can feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

Then it's Lauren's turn, her hand spinning the dial with a flourish. "Right hand, yellow," she reads out, her voice a little too eager.

John's heart stops. Yellow is right between his legs, and as she reaches down, he can feel Lauren's hot breath against his cock. He tries to ignore it, to keep his movements casual, but it's impossible. He can feel the fabric of his suit sticking to him even more now.

He tries not to look at her, but he can't help it. Her eyes are glued to the tent in his suit, her lips slightly parted. He's so close, so exposed, and all he can do is stand there. The other women are watching too, with big smiles.

The air seems to thicken, the sound of their laughter fading away. The only thing he's aware of is Lauren's face, so close to his crotch, her breath hot and heavy on his skin. He can practically feel the way her eyes trace the outline of his cock.

It's finally John's turn. He hopes he rolls something that will let him move away from Lauren. However, he rolls left hand yellow, which is where Laruen's hand is. John's hand shakes as he reaches for the yellow circle, his knees threatening to give out. He tries to tell himself it's just a game, that she's not really going to do anything, but he can't ignore the way his body is responding. His cock twitches, the fabric of his suit sticking to him. He carefully bends over Lauren, trying to get his hand on the yellow circle.

"John, you're taking too long!" Lauren says, her voice muffled by the fabric of his swimsuit. She sounds like she's speaking through a pillow, and John can't help but think about how his cock would look in her mouth. He feels his face heat up even more, his heart racing as he tries to place his hand without making any contact.

But it's no use. His hand lands right beside hers, his cock pressing against her face. She laughs, her mouth moving against him, and he can feel the warmth of her breath, the wetness of her skin. "Hi John!" she says, her voice muffled, and John can't help but gasp. He's never been so close to someone else's mouth in a non-sexual situation.

Lauren sees this as an opportunity to tease John a little. "So, John, how are you enjoying the party?" every time her lips move, they are brushing against John's cock-head straining against the suit.

John gasps a response, his voice trembling, "It's... it's fun." His eyes are squeezed shut, trying to ignore the sensation. But it's like trying to ignore a firework going off in your pocket.

"You seem a little... uncomfortable," Lauren says, her voice still muffled by the fabric of his suit. Her words are punctuated by the brush of her mouth against his sensitive area. He can feel her smile, the corners of her lips curving upward, teasing him even more. "Is something the matter?"

John's mind is racing, his body a battleground of embarrassment and arousal. He can feel the blood pulsing through his cock, each beat echoing in his ears. "No," he says, his voice strained, "I'm just... it's hot out here."

Lauren's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Oh, it's definitely hot," she says, her mouth moving against his swimsuit with every word. "But I'm sure you're used to it. You look like you get outdoors quite a bit."

John's blushes at the compliment, but wishing she wasn't so talkative right at this moment. "Th-thank you," he stammers, his eyes darting around the circle of women. They're all watching him, their smiles knowing.

"So," Lauren continues, her voice a low purr, "have you been working out a lot lately?" She leans in a little closer, putting even more pressure on him. John's cock gives a little jump in response, and she smiles, her teeth grazing the fabric of his suit.

John nods, his voice tight. "Yeah, I've been going to the gym." He tries to keep the conversation light.

It's Lauren's turn and John is hoping that she will move away. She somehow gets the same spin again, "Looks like I'm stuck here," Lauren says while moving her mouth more that is strictly necessary, teasing John the whole time.

The next spin has John leaning back, his right hand reaching for a red circle behind him. His body stretches, his abs tensing as he tries to keep his balance. The movement causes his cock to jut out, pointing straight up to the sky like a flagpole. The women around him gasp, their eyes locked on his exposed bulge.

The sound of the plastic mat crinkling under his weight is the only noise in the otherwise silent yard. His swimsuit is now so tight that it's practically transparent, and he's sure everyone can see everything. He tries to keep his face neutral, his eyes focused on the hand reaching for the red circle. But it's hard when he's aware of every single pair of eyes on him, watching his every move.

He reaches back, his hand finally landing on the red circle. The fabric of his suit pulls tight across his cock, and he can feel the eyes on him, tracing every inch of his body. He's never been so aware of his own arousal.

The next few spins pass in a blur. Sara leans in, her breasts brushing against his side as she places her hand on a blue circle, the fabric of her bikini top barely concealing her hardened nipples. John's hand moves to the next space, his body stretching and contorting with each spin. The women around him shift and twist, their bodies a tapestry of colors and skin. Each time they move, their limbs graze his, setting his nerves alight with anticipation.

John's hand moves to a green space, his body bent at an impossible angle. Jenny laughs as she tries to reach for a red space, her arm brushing against his inner thigh, her fingers 'accidentally' grazing his cock. He jerks, his hand slipping on the plastic. "Oh no, John!" she says, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Let me help you."

Her hand is gentle, her touch electric. She helps him regain his balance, her fingertips lingering on his skin. The next spin has Lauren leaning in, her hand reaching for a yellow circle right beside John's face. She whispers something, her breath hot against his ear, and he feels a hand brush against his cock again. This time, it's Lauren, her fingers tracing the length of him through the wet fabric. He gasps, his body betraying him, his cock swelling even more.

Amanda's turn comes, and she giggles as she reaches for a blue circle between his legs. She leans back, her ass brushing against his erection, and John can't help but let out a little moan. The women around him laugh, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "Looks like someone's enjoying the game," she says, her voice low and teasing.

The game goes on, the women taking every opportunity to touch him, to tease him. Each spin, each move, is a dance of fingers and limbs, a choreography of accidental contact that leaves him breathless and hard. His cock is a living thing, straining against the fabric of his suit, **** for release.

John's hand moves to a new spot, his arm brushing against Sara's breasts. He feels her breath catch, her eyes locking onto his. The air between them crackles with tension.

Then it happens. Lauren, in her effort to contort herself into the next position, loses her balance. Her body topples, and like dominoes, everyone follows suit. The mat is a tangle of limbs, all fighting for purchase, and John is at the bottom. He feels the weight of the women pressing down on him, their bodies molded to his, their skin sliding against his. He gasps, his cock trapped between the wet fabric of his g-string and the soft, giving flesh of Lauren's thigh.

"I guess I lose," Lauren admits.

"Yeah, but we all had fun, that's what counts," Tiffany chimes in.

The chaos is a flurry of limbs and giggles, the sound of swimsuits sticking to skin. John's heart is racing, his mind racing even faster. Was that a hand? Did someone just...? No, he tells himself, it's just his imagination.

But as the women start to disentangle themselves, their movements seem a little more deliberate, a little more... intimate. Lauren's hand slides along his thigh as she stands up, and he swears he feels a squeeze before she pulls away. Jenny laughs as she untangles herself from his legs, her hand brushing against his crotch. "Sorry for falling on you," she says as she disentangles herself from John.

"Yeah, it's terrible having all these beautiful women in swimsuits laying on me," John replies sarcastically.

John finally can get up and makes his way over to an empty lounge chair, his body feeling like it's on fire. He lays down, the plastic sticking to his wet skin, and tries to calm himself down. He can't take much more of this, he thinks, his hand unconsciously moving to adjust his swimsuit.

That's when Jenny struts over, her hips swaying with a confidence that makes John's stomach flip. "Hey," she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "you're gonna burn if you don't put on some sunscreen." She holds out the bottle to him.

John nods, his cheeks still flushed from the twister game. "Thank you," he says, his voice a little too high.

Before he can even begin to process what's happening, Jenny's hand is on the bottle of sunscreen. She squeezes it, and a generous dollop of white lotion squirts out, landing right in the center of his chest. She giggles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Whoops, let me get that," she says, as she starts to rub the sunscreen into his skin.

Her hands are firm, her fingers gliding over his chest and abs, leaving a trail of cold, wetness in their wake. John's cock twitches, his breath catching in his throat. He tries to ignore it, to keep his voice steady. "I've got it," he says, reaching for the bottle.

But Jenny shakes her head, her eyes never leaving his. "Let me," she says, her voice a purr. "It's the least I can do after I hurt you earlier."

John's hand falls to his side, his eyes locked on hers. He can feel the heat of her fingers as they move over his skin, the slickness of the sunscreen making her touch feel even more intimate. She's not just rubbing it in, she's massaging it into his skin, her thumbs circling his nipples before moving on.

Then she's at his feet, her hands sliding up his legs. The sunscreen is cold and wet, a stark contrast to the heat of his skin. He tries to keep his legs still, but they're trembling, his body betraying his arousal.

Jenny's hands move up his legs, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his g-string. "Spread 'em," she says, her voice teasing.

John's face goes red, his heart racing. "What?" he squeaks.

"Your legs," Jenny says, her voice a little too sweet, "I need to get to your... thighs."

John swallows hard, his hand moving to his thighs. "I don't think I need to," he says, his voice shaky.

Jenny laughs, her eyes sparkling. "Well, let me tell you a story," she says, her hands moving to his knees, pushing them apart gently. "I forgot to put sunscreen on my inner thighs once, and boy did I pay for it! It was so bad, I could barely walk for a week."

John's eyes widen, his cheeks flaming. "Oh," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "That's... that's really bad."

"It was," Jenny says, her voice light. "So you see, it's better to be safe than sorry."

With trembling hands, John spreads his legs. Jenny's touch is feather-light as she applies the sunscreen, her fingers moving closer and closer to the fabric that's barely concealing his cock.

"It's important to get all the spots you can't see," Jenny says, her voice a little too innocent. Her hand moves higher, the fabric of his suit stretching taut. John's breath hitches in his throat as he feels her fingers brush against his balls.

"It's also important to get under the legholes of the suit and under the waistband. Those can shift and you don't want to be exposed."

John nods, his eyes squeezed shut as Jenny's hand slides under the leg hole of his g-string. Her touch is gentle, but firm, and he can feel his cock jump in response. "That makes sense," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jenny's hand lingers on his balls, her thumb rolling over them as she spreads the sunscreen around. "Mmhmm," she murmurs, her eyes locked on his face. She takes her time, her touch deliberate and calculated. John's breathing speeds up, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath.

Her hand moves to the other side, her thumb brushing against the base of his cock before sliding back down to his balls. She repeats the motion, her eyes never leaving his. "You know," she says, her voice a low purr, "it's a good thing you wore this suit. It makes it so much easier to get all those hard-to-reach places."

John nods, his body tight with tension. "Yeah," he says, his voice strained, "It's... it's definitely convenient."

Jenny's hand moves up his thigh, her thumb tracing the edge of his waistband. She leans in, her breath hot against his ear. "But I'm not done yet," she whispers. Her hand slides under the band of his suit, her fingertips grazing his hipbone. "

John's eyes fly open, his heart racing. He tries to sit up, but Jenny's hand on his chest keeps him down. "What are you—" he starts, but she cuts him off with a laugh.

"Relax," she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm just making sure you don't burn. That would be such a shame."

Her fingers slide down, down, until they're just barely brushing the tip of his cock. John's entire body goes rigid, his breath hitching in his throat. She's not even touching him, not really, but it feels like she's got him in a vice.

Jenny moves her hand back and forth, back and forth. Each time she barely grazes the head of John's cock with the back of her fingertips.

John's eyes widen, his breath coming in short gasps. He's trying to keep his body still, not to give away the storm brewing inside him. He can feel the heat of the sun on his face, but it's nothing compared to the fire raging through his veins.

"Are... are you sure this is... necessary?" he manages to croak out.

Jenny smirks, her eyes still on his face. "Oh, I'm positive," she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You wouldn't want to miss out on the fun, would you?"

John's mind is racing, his cock begging for more. He nods, his body trembling as she continues her torturous dance. Her fingers slide back and forth until he thinks he might go insane. The fabric of his suit is stretched to its limit, the head of his cock threatening to poke out.

And then she stops.

John opens his eyes, his body a coiled spring ready to snap. Jenny sits back, her hand leaving his crotch. She holds the sunscreen bottle up, her expression innocent. "All done," she says, her voice cheerful. "You're all set now."

The other women are watching him, their smiles knowing. They've seen his struggle, his desperation. But they say nothing, simply continuing their conversation as if nothing has happened.

Jenny stands up, her eyes lingering on his crotch for a moment before she turns away. "You should probably keep an eye on it, though," she says over her shoulder. "You don't want to burn."

John nods, his body still thrumming with need. He takes a deep breath, willing his cock to go down, to hide itself again. But it's stubborn, refusing to shrink away from the attention it's been given.

He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing. The sound of the party fades away, replaced by the steady thump of his heart. He can feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, the gentle caress of the breeze. He's so tired, so worn out from the constant tension. His mind drifts, and before he knows it, he's asleep.