"Golden Secrets at the Hidden Cove"

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The sun hung heavy over the lake, turning the water into a sheet of molten glass that shimmered with every ripple. Callie adjusted the straps of her backpack, her dark hair sticking to the back of her neck in damp tendrils. Beside her, Gwen wiped her forehead with the hem of her tank top, her full lips parted as she exhaled in frustration. They’d been hiking for hours, the trail winding deeper into the woods than either of them had expected, and the promise of a cool dip in the lake had been the only thing keeping them going.

Then, through the trees, they saw it—a small, hidden cove, the water so still it looked like a mirror. A private oasis, untouched and perfect. Callie grinned, already kicking off her sneakers. "Thank god. I was about to start drinking my own sweat."

Gwen laughed, her blue eyes scanning the secluded spot. "No way anyone else knows about this place. We’ve got it all to—"

A splash cut her off.

Both girls froze.

There, breaking the surface of the water like some kind of forest god, was a boy. Tall, lean, his wet hair slicked back from his face as he shook the water from his eyes. He hadn’t seen them yet—his back was turned, his shoulders broad and golden in the sunlight. Callie’s breath hitched. Gwen’s fingers tightened around her water bottle.

They dropped into a crouch behind a thicket of bushes, hearts pounding.

He was *beautiful*. Not in the boy-next-door way, not in the safe, predictable way—no, this was something else entirely. Sharp cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and when he turned slightly, Callie caught the faintest hint of a smirk playing at his lips, like he knew a secret the world didn’t. His body was all long limbs and defined muscle, the kind of physique that made Gwen bite her lip and Callie forget how to breathe.

Then he dove under again, the water closing over his head like silk.

Gwen exhaled shakily. "Okay. Okay, we should *not* be spying on him."

Callie didn’t move. "We’re not spying. We’re… observing."

"Observing him *what*? Swim?"

"Exactly."

Gwen rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Because the boy was swimming toward the shallows now, the water barely lapping at his waist. And then—oh god—then he stood.

Callie’s stomach flipped.

He wasn’t wearing *anything*.

The realization hit them both at once. His swim trunks weren’t floating nearby. There was no towel draped over a rock. Just him, naked, the water clinging to his skin as he ran a hand through his hair. The sun caught the dark trail of hair leading down from his navel, disappearing beneath the surface—

Gwen made a choked sound.

Callie’s fingers dug into the dirt.

He turned, giving them a full view of his backside, and holy *shit*. His ass was perfect—round, tight, the kind of thing that belonged in a museum or a very dirty dream. Gwen’s breath came faster, her cheeks flushed. Callie’s mouth was dry.

Then he dove again, vanishing beneath the water, and the girls exhaled in unison.

"Okay," Gwen whispered. "We are *definitely* spying now."

Callie didn’t deny it.

They watched, mesmerized, as he swam lazy laps, his body cutting through the water with effortless grace. Every so often, he’d surface, shake the water from his face, and—oh god—adjust himself. Not that there was much to adjust.

Because the longer they watched, the more one thing became painfully, hilariously clear.

The boy was *tiny*.

Like, *comically* tiny.

The first time he stood again, the water sluicing off his body, Callie actually clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Gwen’s eyes went wide.

It wasn’t just small. It was *adorable*. A little nub of flesh, barely there, nestled in a thatch of dark curls. He was *gorgeous*—tall, sculpted, the kind of face that made girls weak in the knees—and yet, between his legs, he was practically a child.

Gwen pressed her lips together, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Callie buried her face in her hands, her body trembling. They were going to hell. They were *definitely* going to hell.

But they couldn’t look away.

He stretched out on the rocks then, completely unselfconscious, his back to them as he tilted his face toward the sun. The girls watched, giddy with the thrill of it, as his tiny penis rested against his thigh, almost lost in the shadow of his body.

Gwen nudged Callie. "We should *totally* steal his clothes."

Callie’s eyes lit up.

Five minutes later, his jeans, boxers, and t-shirt were tucked safely into Gwen’s backpack, and the girls were barely containing their laughter as they watched him swim toward the shore—*their* shore.

He emerged from the water like some kind of tragic Adonis, droplets rolling down his chest, his tiny cock swinging slightly as he walked. Callie bit her knuckle to keep from giggling. Gwen’s entire body was vibrating with suppressed mirth.

He didn’t notice them.

Not at first.

He stretched out on the warm rocks, his arms behind his head, his *everything* on full display. The girls exchanged a look.

Gwen counted down from three with her fingers.

Then they stepped out from the bushes.

The boy’s head snapped up.

His eyes went wide.

Callie crossed her arms, trying—and failing—to look stern. "Hi."

Gwen waved. "Nice… *swim*."

He scrambled to cover himself, his hands flying to his crotch, his face burning. "Oh my god—*fuck*—"

"Relax," Callie said, grinning. "We’ve already seen it."

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "You—what—"

Gwen plopped down on a rock beside him, entirely too cheerful. "Yeah, we *saw*. All of it. Or, well. Most of it."

His face was so red it was practically glowing. "I—I didn’t know anyone was here—"

Callie sat beside Gwen, tilting her head. "Clearly. Otherwise you might’ve, I don’t know, *kept your pants on*?"

He groaned, covering his face with one hand. "This is a nightmare."

Gwen laughed. "Oh, come on. It’s not *that* bad."

"It’s *worse*," he muttered. "You *saw*."

Callie exchanged a glance with Gwen. Then, because she was feeling merciful (and more than a little amused), she said, "We *did* see. And, uh. Wow."

His hands dropped. "Yeah. *Wow*."

Gwen leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "So. What’s the deal? You *always* skinny dip with… *that*?"

He sighed, rubbing his face. "I was hiking. Forgot my suit. Didn’t think anyone would be out here."

Callie raised an eyebrow. "And you just *happened* to forget your suit on a day you decided to go swimming?"

He shot her a look. "I didn’t *plan* to go swimming. I found the lake. It was hot. I jumped in."

Gwen hummed. "Convenient."

He groaned again, dropping his head back. "Look, can we *not* talk about this?"

Callie grinned. "But it’s *so* fun."

He glared at her. Then, after a beat, the corner of his mouth twitched. "You’re evil."

Gwen smirked. "And you’re *tiny*."

He covered his face again. "I *know*."

Callie’s amusement faded slightly. There was something in his voice—something raw, embarrassed. She nudged his shoulder with her foot. "Hey. It’s not *that* bad."

He peeked at her through his fingers. "You *saw* it."

"Yeah, and?" She shrugged. "It’s cute."

His eyebrows shot up. "*Cute*?"

Gwen nodded. "Adorably small. Like a little… *button*."

He groaned, but there was a hint of a laugh in it this time. "You’re *both* terrible."

Callie grinned. "So. What’s your name, *Button*?"

He hesitated. Then, resigning himself to his fate, he said, "Owen."

"Owen," Gwen repeated, like she was tasting it. "I’m Gwen. That’s Callie."

Owen nodded, still looking like he wanted to vanish into the rocks. "Nice to meet you. Can I have my clothes back now?"

Callie tapped her chin. "Hmm. I don’t know. We *did* go through a lot of trouble to steal them."

Gwen nodded sagely. "And we *did* see your tiny penis."

Owen’s face burned. "You’re *never* going to let me live this down, are you?"

Callie grinned. "Probably not."

He sighed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips now. "Fine. What do you *want*?"

Gwen and Callie exchanged a look.

Then Gwen leaned forward, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. "Well. Since you’re *already* naked…"

Owen’s breath hitched.

Callie’s grin turned wicked. "We *could* help you out. You know. Give you a *hand*."

His eyes darkened.

Gwen reached out, trailing a finger down his arm. "Unless you’d rather stay… *small*."

Owen swallowed hard. Then, slowly, he lowered his hands.

Callie’s breath caught.

Because, well.

It wasn’t *big*.

But it wasn’t *tiny* anymore, either.

Gwen’s lips curved. "Oh. Look at that."

Owen’s face was flushed, his chest rising and falling faster. "You’re *evil*."

Callie laughed, scooting closer. "Maybe. But you *like* it."

He didn’t deny it.

Gwen’s hand found his thigh, her touch light, teasing. "So. Owen. Tell us something."

He licked his lips. "What?"

Callie’s fingers brushed his other thigh, her voice soft. "Are you *always* this… *shy*?"

His breath stuttered. "I—I don’t—"

Gwen’s nails scraped upward, just shy of where he was hardening. "Because you *seem* like you might be hiding something."

Owen’s hips jerked. "I’m not—"

Callie’s laugh was low, husky. "Oh, I think you are."

His hands clenched at his sides. "I’ve just—never—"

Gwen’s eyes sparkled. "*Never*?"

He exhaled sharply. "*Never*."

Callie’s touch drifted higher, her fingers ghosting over him. "Well. We *can’t* have that, can we?"

Owen’s head fell back with a groan.

Gwen’s hand joined Callie’s, their fingers working in tandem, slow, deliberate. Owen’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling under their touch. He was *beautiful* like this—flushed, desperate, his usual confidence stripped away by nothing but their hands and his own need.

Callie leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "You’re *so* pretty when you’re like this."

Gwen’s thumb swirled over the tip of him, her voice a whisper. "All *hard* for us."

Owen’s hips lifted, a broken sound escaping him. "Fuck—*please*—"

Callie’s laugh was dark, delighted. "Since you asked so *nicely*."

Their hands moved faster, their touches growing bolder, until Owen was nothing but gasps and trembling limbs, his body arching into their grip. Gwen pressed a kiss to his shoulder, her teeth grazing his skin. Callie’s lips found his neck, her breath hot against his pulse.

When he finally stilled, his chest heaving, his body slick with sweat, Gwen pressed one last, lingering kiss to his collarbone. "There. Now you’re *not* a virgin anymore."

Owen laughed breathlessly, his eyes still closed. "I *hate* you both."

Callie grinned, pressing her forehead to his. "No, you don’t."

He opened his eyes, his gaze soft, dazed. "No. I don’t."

Gwen stretched out beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. "So. Owen."

He hummed, still catching his breath.

She smirked. "Same time tomorrow?"

He groaned, but his arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. "You’re *insatiable*."

Callie laughed, curling against his other side. "And you *love* it."

Owen sighed, but his smile was warm, his body relaxed between theirs. "Yeah. I *do*."

The sun dipped lower, painting the lake in gold, and for the first time all summer, none of them were thinking about the heat.