Y2K Survivor

I grew up thinking the Coppertone girl was kind of hot.  Now don't go all LPC-wannabe on me, I was the same age as that little girl on the bottle.  We kind of grew up together and as a kid I spent many a summer afternoon hanging out with her and an icy cold coca cola.  But it wasn't the little girl with the swim pants pulled down from her playful puppy that got me all excited.  It was the smells.

 

The exotic smells of cocoa butter and pina coladas mixed with sun baked sweat was a near instant turn on.  In the sexy 70s, I was a walking hormone with every sense aroused by the sights and smells of summer, which included tube tops, halter tops, string bikinis and all of them held the most powerful aphrodisiac of all.... BOOBS!

 

Sure I was a normal kid growing up.  I rode a bicycle for 2.5 miles to the local swimming place called Greenwood Lake.  This was an old pond converted into a swimming place for local kids.  They had rides and games and a little bitty beach.  My buddies and I would spend some time checking out the older high school girls, lying on the beach, face down and bikini top untied and spread out along side them.

 

Just thinking of the nearly obtainable treasures that were literally within grasp, led to other warm weather daydreams that resulted in more than a couple of us either rushing for the cold water or diving face down on a beach towel ourselves.  Pure innocence of youth when sex was something you read about in men's magazines, and discussed in hushed tones as we huddled around and made comparisons to cantaloupes, oranges and watermelons.

 

The greatest gift a boy could get would be for one of these bronzed 13 -15 year old beauties actually asking one of us to rub some Coppertone on her back.  With wishes that God would grace our fingertips with electric stimulants we would try to make the "big man hand" rubs with an extra gentle touch.   I remember the thick tongued heavy breathing of a kid in awe just to be able to touch one of these sun Goddesses.  So I rubbed in the lotion, thick, white and creamy into her darkened skin and slid down past her shoulder blades and towards the promised lands beyond.

 

"You better not touch my butt!" was the common reaction about this time.

 

And the typical male result was always the same.  Jump up and run for the cold water in the hope she never noticed how much you were enjoying the experience.  Maybe splash a little water her way, because... well because you were  boy and she was a girl, then swim for the docks in the middle of the lake.  Once there you would be surrounded by your friends and bombarded with a thousand questions of the daring deed.

 

Yeah, to this day I find the smell of sun tan lotion one of the strongest sexual stimulants in the world.  Which is more than a bit disturbing lately when I come home from a long day of sailing, mysteriously aware of the sun blocked covered 65 year old man in the truck next to me.  Yet somehow it just aint the same.