Midnight Dive into Desire

Greg's eyes bulged like he'd swallowed a lemon whole, his whole body locked up on that rocky bank, one hand mashed over his crotch while the other flailed for balance. Water still trickled down his legs, pooling at his feet, and in the patchy moonlight filtering through the pines, his skin glistened like he'd been oiled up for some secret photoshoot. But that panicked twist to his mouth, the way his shoulders hunched—it stripped away the godlike vibe, leaving him just a guy, naked and cornered.

I stepped closer, his clothes clutched against my chest like a bargaining chip, the denim rough against my damp t-shirt. My nipples strained the fabric, and I didn't bother hiding it; let him see how this was revving me up. "Name's Emily," I said, voice low but steady, ignoring the way my pussy clenched at the sight of him squirming. "Relax, I'm not here to bite. Yet."

He blinked, confusion etching deeper lines into his forehead, those dark eyes flicking from my face to the bundle in my arms and back. "Emily? What the fuck—how do you even know my name? I've been coming here for two weeks straight, and there's never been a soul around. This spot's supposed to be hidden." His voice came out whiny, almost petulant, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He shifted his weight, ass cheeks flexing against the edge of the pool, but that hand stayed glued over his dick, knuckles white.

I couldn't help the smirk tugging at my lips. The power hummed through me, electric and heady, making my thighs rub together just enough to tease the slickness building there. I'd been replaying last night's glimpse nonstop—the way his tiny cock had looked so out of place on that killer body—and now here he was, all mine to unravel. "Well, I've seen all of you, Greg," I said, letting the words hang heavy, watching his face drain of color. His eyes widened, a fresh wave of panic hitting as the implication sank in. Yeah, he got it. I'd been spying, clocking every inch of him, from those broad shoulders to the little secret tucked between his legs.

He was tall—had to be pushing six-two, easy—but in that moment, crouched and flustered, I felt like I towered over him, all curves and confidence against his exposed vulnerability. My jean shorts rode up higher as I closed the gap, the seam pressing right into my swollen clit, sending a jolt up my spine. "No need to cover it up," I added, nodding at his hand. "I've seen all there is to see. That little thing's not hiding from me."

His cheeks burned red, spreading down his neck, and he let out this choked laugh that wasn't funny at all—just raw embarrassment. "What? You—you can't just—fuck, give me my clothes!" But he didn't lunge for them; he just stayed planted, thighs trembling slightly, that perfect V of his hips drawing my eyes down despite his efforts. I could see the edges of his balls peeking out from under his palm, tight and drawn up, and god, it made my core ache.

I dangled the pile just out of reach, stepping even closer until I could smell the chlorine off his skin mixed with that faint, musky scent of him. "Come on, Greg. Drop the hand. It's not like it's gonna scare me off." He hesitated, biting his lip, eyes darting to the dark trail behind me like he was calculating an escape. But there was nowhere to run, not without flashing everything again, and I knew he knew it. "Tease," I murmured, tilting my head. "Bet it feels good to let it breathe, huh? All shriveled from the water like that."

That did it. With a defeated huff, he uncrossed his arms, letting his hand fall away. There it was—his tiny dick, soft and unassuming, maybe an inch long, the head a pale pink button nestled against his sack. It didn't flop or swing; it just sat there, delicate in the cool air, balls hugging close underneath. He stood straighter now, trying to reclaim some dignity, but the flush on his chest gave him away.

I giggled—couldn't stop it— the sound bubbling up from deep in my gut, light and teasing. "Fuck, I love it," I said, eyes locked right on that little nub. "It's perfect. So... unexpected on a guy like you."

His jaw dropped, shock wiping the panic clean off his face. "You... what? Love it? Are you serious?" He stared at me like I'd grown a second head, but relief flickered in there too, pathetic and raw, like he'd been braced for mockery and got a compliment instead. His cock gave the tiniest twitch, barely noticeable, but I caught it, and it sent a fresh gush of wetness soaking my shorts.

"Dead serious," I replied, tossing his clothes onto a nearby rock—out of reach but close enough to promise. I closed the last step, my breasts brushing his chest through the thin t-shirt, nipples scraping fabric and sending sparks straight to my pussy. He was warm, still radiating from the swim, and up close, his body was even more insane—abs ridged under my gaze, arms corded like he lived in the gym. But that tiny dick? It was the star, the contradiction that had me hooked from the first peek. "Makes me want to play with it. You ever had a hand on that thing from someone else?"

He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing, and shook his head. "N-no. Never." Virgin, just like me—though I'd guessed it from the way he carried himself, all beauty and no swagger. The thought made my clit throb, imagining us both fumbling into this, no experience to muddy the thrill.

"Good," I whispered, wrapping my fingers around his shaft—gentle, since there wasn't much to grip. It was soft as silk, warm from his body, fitting easy in my palm like it was made for this. He gasped, hips jerking forward on instinct, and I felt it stir, thickening just a bit under my touch. Not much—maybe two inches hard—but the way it pulsed against my skin had me squeezing my thighs together, my own arousal dripping down my leg. "Then tonight's your first. And mine, if we're counting."

I started slow, stroking from base to tip with my thumb circling the head, feeling it swell incrementally. His breath hitched, eyes squeezing shut, that gorgeous face contorting in a mix of shock and pleasure. "Fuck, Emily—that feels..." He trailed off, hands hovering like he didn't know where to put them, finally settling on my shoulders, gripping light.

"Feels good, right? Even with it being so small." I teased, voice husky as I pumped a little faster, my other hand cupping his balls—tight and smooth, rolling them gently. They drew up tighter under my fingers, and his cock responded, stiffening to its full, modest length, the head flushing darker. Precum beaded at the slit, slicking my strokes, and I used it, twisting my wrist on each upstroke. God, it was hot—the way he bucked into my hand, all that muscle power focused on this tiny point of contact. My pussy clenched empty, jealous, juices soaking through my shorts now, but I held back, savoring his unraveling.

"You're... you're really into this?" he panted, eyes cracking open to meet mine, dark and dilated. His ass flexed against the rock behind him, thighs parting wider like an invitation.

"Into you? Hell yes. The size just makes it better—fits perfect in my hand, no gagging if I suck it later." I grinned, speeding up, thumb pressing the sensitive underside where the skin stretched taut. He groaned, low and guttural, head tipping back, exposing the line of his throat. I leaned in, nipping at his collarbone while I jerked him—firm pulls now, feeling the vein pulse under my fingers. His balls tightened in my palm, and he was close; I could tell from the way his breaths came ragged, hips thrusting shallow into my fist.

"Shit—Emily, I'm gonna—" His warning cut off in a whine, body going rigid. I didn't let up, stroking through it as he came—hot spurts hitting my wrist, not much volume but intense, his tiny dick jerking in my grip like it was firing everything it had. He shuddered, knees buckling a bit, and I milked him dry, fingers slick with his cum, the scent sharp and salty in the night air.

When he sagged against me, spent and dazed, I brought my hand up, licking a stripe through the mess on my fingers—salty, a little bitter, but fuck if it didn't make my clit ache harder. "Taste good too," I murmured, then grabbed his face, pulling him into a deep kiss. His lips parted eager, tongue tentative at first, then hungry, tasting himself on me as our mouths tangled. I pressed my body flush, letting him feel my hard nipples and the heat radiating from my crotch, but I pulled back before it went further—teasing us both.

We broke apart gasping, his tiny cock softening against my thigh, still leaking a drop. "Tomorrow night," I said, stepping back, grabbing his clothes and tossing them at his feet. "Same time. Wear nothing under—if you show."

He nodded, dazed grin splitting his face, pulling on his boxers with shaky hands. "Yeah. Fuck yeah."

As I slipped into the bushes, pussy throbbing untouched, I knew we'd both be back—virgins no more in the ways that counted, ready to push this further under the pines.