Midnight Whispers at the Secret Pool

All day, I'd been replaying that handjob like a looped reel in my head—Greg's tiny dick twitching in my fist, how it barely filled my palm even when it stiffened to its full four inches. The power of it, controlling this tall, ripped guy with just my fingers, had me coming twice already, once in the shower with the water pounding my clit, and again sprawled on my bed, fingers buried deep while I imagined his flushed face. Fuck, the contrast of his body and that little thing was addictive, making my pussy throb just thinking about it. By nightfall, I was restless, that secluded swimming hole at my parents' lake house calling me back like a siren. I slipped out, heart pounding with the same thrill from last night, the pine-scented air hitting me as I hiked the trail.

He was already there when I pushed through the bushes, standing by the water's edge in jeans and a faded t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. Moonlight caught the edges of his jaw, sharp and handsome, but his eyes darted nervous when he spotted me. No pool of clothes this time; he'd come dressed, like he was testing the waters without diving in. I stepped closer, feeling my nipples peak under my tank top, the cool breeze teasing the hem of my shorts.

"Hmm, Greg, I like you," I said, voice low and teasing as I closed the distance. "But I really like you naked." His cheeks flushed instant red, that familiar hesitation flickering in his eyes, but he didn't bolt. I nodded at his clothes. "Strip."

He paused, fingers hovering at his belt, glancing around like someone might pop out from the trees. "Right here? Just like that?" His voice had that whiny edge again, part protest, part plea, but he unbuckled anyway, slow and deliberate, jeans sliding down his long legs to reveal boxer briefs tenting slightly already. The shirt came next, peeled off to show those abs I'd traced with my eyes last night, skin glowing pale in the light. He hooked thumbs in his waistband, hesitating one last beat, then shoved them down. There it was—his soft little dick, tucked against his balls, unassuming and pink. The sight hit me like a spark, and I couldn't hold back the giggle bubbling up, light and genuine.

"Fuck, the contrast," I said, stepping nearer, eyes locked on it. "All that height, those muscles, and this cute little thing. It's what gets me every time." He shifted, trying to cover with one hand out of habit, but dropped it when I shook my head. His face burned, embarrassment twisting his mouth, but his cock betrayed him—twitching, then thickening, swelling to its full four inches right there, hard and pointing up, the head flushing darker. Balls tight underneath, like they were begging for attention. God, watching him get stiff from the shame alone made my pussy clench, wetness already soaking my panties.

He laughed too, awkward but real, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, it has that effect." No denial, just acceptance now, like last night's high had cracked something open in him.

"I'm joining you this time," I said, grinning as I grabbed the hem of my tank top. His eyes widened, tracking every move as I pulled it over my head, my tits bouncing free—heavy C-cups with dark nipples already stiff from the air and his stare. I shimmied out of my shorts next, no bra or panties underneath, kicking them aside. Naked now, my skin prickled with goosebumps, pussy lips slick and swollen, trimmed bush framing the heat between my thighs. I felt his gaze like a touch, hot on my curves, and it made me bold—strutting to the water's edge, hips swaying just to see him swallow hard.

We waded in together, the cool water lapping at our calves, then thighs, shocking my clit with the chill. It was deeper here, up to our waists once we swam out a bit, the lake smooth and dark around us. Greg floated closer, his hard dick bobbing just under the surface, brushing my leg accidental-like, sending a jolt straight to my core. We treaded water, facing each other, the silence broken only by our breaths and the distant hoot of an owl.

"So, any girls before me?" I asked, floating nearer, my tits breaking the surface as I reached out to trace a finger down his chest. Water beaded on his skin, running in rivulets over those ridges.

He shook his head, water dripping from his hair. "One, back in high school. We were messing around in her room, and when she saw it... she just laughed. Like, full-on snorted and pointed. I grabbed my pants and ran, dick flopping the whole way down the stairs." He winced at the memory, but there was a sheepish grin tugging his lips.

I burst out giggling, the sound echoing off the water, and he joined in, the shared laugh easing the tension. "Poor guy, pants down and bolting. Bet that was a sight." My hand found his under the water, guiding it to my hip, feeling his fingers flex tentative against my skin. The story made me wetter, imagining his humiliation, how it'd wired him to this—vulnerable and hot as fuck.

We swam lazy laps for a bit, bodies brushing more intentional now, until I led him back to the grassy bank, the mud sucking at our feet. "Come on," I murmured, pushing him down onto the soft grass, his back arching as he stretched out. Water glistened on his body, cock standing straight up, four inches of rigid need, veins subtle but pulsing. I knelt between his legs, knees sinking into the earth, and wrapped my hand around his shaft—warm, slick from the lake, fitting perfect in my grip.

"I love your penis, Greg," I said, stroking slow from base to tip, thumb swirling the head where a drop of precum mixed with water. "So small. So perfect. Like you." He groaned, hips lifting off the grass, eyes locked on my mouth as I leaned down. No teasing buildup—I took him in, lips sealing around the head, tongue flicking the slit to taste that salty bead. He wasn't big enough to stretch my jaw, which made it easy to swallow him whole, my nose brushing his pubes as I bobbed, sucking firm. His balls rested against my chin, tight and drawn up, and I cupped them, rolling gentle while I worked his dick with my mouth—hollowing cheeks, twisting my head side to side.

"Fuck, Emily—your mouth..." He panted, hands fisting the grass, thighs quivering under my palms. I hummed around him, the vibration making his cock jerk, and sped up, slurping loud and wet, spit trailing down to his sack. He was close fast, breaths ragged, that beautiful face contorting—eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. I pulled back just enough to lick the underside, from balls to tip, then dove again, taking him deep while one finger teased his taint, pressing light against the spot behind his balls.

"Shit—gonna come," he warned, voice breaking, but I didn't stop, sucking harder, hand pumping what little I couldn't fit. His hips bucked, tiny dick throbbing on my tongue, and then he unloaded—hot spurts hitting the back of my throat, not a flood but intense, pulsing waves that I swallowed down, milking him with my lips until he slumped, spent and gasping. I pulled off with a pop, licking my lips, tasting him still—musky and sharp.

He lay there dazed for a second, chest heaving, but then sat up, eyes dark with intent. "Your turn." His voice was rough, hands reaching for me, pulling me down onto the grass beside him. I spread my legs wide, pussy exposed and dripping, lips parted and pink under the moonlight. He hesitated, staring like he was memorizing it, then leaned in, breath hot on my inner thighs.

"Go slow," I said, threading fingers in his wet hair, guiding him closer. His tongue darted out tentative, flat and broad, licking from my entrance up to my clit in one long swipe. Fuck, it was good—warm and eager, no skill but all enthusiasm. I moaned, arching into it, the grass tickling my ass as he lapped at my folds, tasting my slickness. "Right there—circle my clit." He did, tongue tip flicking the swollen nub, then sucking it gentle between his lips, the pull sending sparks up my spine.

I rocked against his face, pussy grinding on his mouth, his nose bumping my mound. He slipped a finger inside me—easy, since I was soaked—curling it just right, hitting that spot while his tongue worked my clit faster. "Yes, fuck—add another." Two fingers now, stretching me a bit, pumping in and out with wet sounds mixing the night air. My tits heaved with each breath, nipples aching, and I pinched one, rolling it hard as the pressure built, coiling tight in my gut.

He was getting bolder, humming against my pussy, the vibration pushing me closer. "Don't stop—gonna come on your face." His free hand gripped my thigh, holding me open, fingers thrusting deeper, tongue relentless on my clit. It hit me hard—waves crashing, pussy clenching around his fingers, juices flooding his mouth as I cried out, body shaking, thighs clamping his head. He kept licking through it, drawing out every pulse until I shoved him back, oversensitive and panting.

We collapsed side by side, skin sticky with lake water and sweat, his soft dick resting against my hip. I turned to him, smirking. "Not bad for virgins, huh? But next time, we're doing more than dipping toes." He grinned back, pulling me close, and as his hand wandered to my ass, I knew the pines would see plenty more of us—small surprises and all.