Midnight Moonlight Dare

The moon hung low that next night, fat and mocking like it knew all our secrets, casting silver streaks across the lake's surface as I slipped out of the house. Gina's arrival was tomorrow, her texts pinging my phone all evening about how she'd "totally crash the party" at the lake house, oblivious to the real party I'd been throwing solo with Greg. My pulse thrummed remembering that first moonlight glimpse of him—naked and oblivious in the water, his body cutting through the dark like some forbidden sculpture. I'd hiked those miles in the dead of night then, heart pounding, and now here I was again, trading daylight for this shadowy thrill. No sundress this time; I threw on a loose tank and cutoff shorts, the kind that rode up my thighs, no bra or panties because control started with what I chose to reveal.

Greg was already there when I reached the clearing, pacing the rocky edge of the swimming hole, his silhouette tense against the rippling water. The air smelled of damp pine and distant rain, crickets chirping like they were cheering us on. He turned at my footsteps, that beautiful face lighting up in the low light, but his eyes darted nervous, like he could sense the edge I was riding. "Emily," he breathed, stepping close, but I held up a hand, stopping him short.

"Not yet," I said, voice low and firm, loving how he froze, hands flexing at his sides. "Sit on that log." I pointed to the fallen pine by the water, its bark rough and mossy. He obeyed without a word, dropping down, his shorts tenting already from just the sight of me. I stood over him, feeling the power rush through me like a drug—me fully dressed, him about to be bare. My fingers itched to unwrap him, to make him vulnerable under this moon that had first shown me his secret. "Stand up and strip. Everything off. Slow."

His cheeks burned red even in the dimness, but he rose, kicking off his sneakers first, then tugging his shirt over his head. That lean chest came into view, muscles shifting under pale skin, nipples hardening in the cool night air. He hesitated at his waistband, glancing at me like he needed permission, and I nodded, smirking. "Shorts too. And boxers. Let me see it all." He shoved them down in one go, stepping out naked, his dick hanging soft and small—barely two inches, nestled cute against his balls, shrinking a little more under my stare. Fuck, it hit me every time, that contrast: his gorgeous face, those sharp cheekbones and full lips, paired with this tiny thing that made him squirm. He stood there, hands hovering like he wanted to cover up, but I shook my head. "Hands behind your back. Good boy."

I dropped to my knees in the dirt, the pebbles biting into my skin through my shorts, but I didn't care. My mouth watered thinking about taking him first, owning that quick surrender. Leaning in, I nuzzled my nose against his soft cock, inhaling his clean, musky scent—soap from earlier mixed with nervous sweat. It twitched at the contact, starting to thicken as I parted my lips and took the whole thing in easy, no effort, just the warm weight on my tongue. He gasped above me, thighs trembling, and I sucked gentle at first, swirling around the head as it grew to three inches, then four, rigid and pulsing against the roof of my mouth. My hands gripped his hips, holding him still while I bobbed, taking him deep—easy since there was no gagging, just that perfect, compact slide. Saliva built quick, dripping down his balls as I hollowed my cheeks, humming low to send vibrations through him.

"Fuck, Emily," he groaned, voice cracking, his hands clenching behind him like he was fighting not to grab my hair. I looked up, meeting his eyes—wide and desperate, that pretty face flushed—and sped up, sucking harder, tongue flicking the underside. It didn't take long; his hips bucked once, twice, and he was spilling hot into my mouth, cum thick and salty, just a few strong spurts that I swallowed down without spilling a drop. His dick throbbed, then softened fast in my mouth, shrinking back to that adorable nub as he panted, knees nearly buckling.

I pulled off with a wet pop, wiping my lips on the back of my hand, and stood, stripping off my tank and shorts in quick pulls. My tits bounced free, nipples tight from the chill and the heat building between my legs, pussy already slick and aching. Naked now, I pushed him back onto the log and lay beside him, our bodies pressing close on the rough bark—his skin warm against mine, his softening cock brushing my thigh. I trailed my fingers lazy along his groin, teasing the sensitive skin where his dick met his balls, feeling it twitch faintly but stay small. "You came so quick," I murmured, nipping his earlobe. "Nervous about tomorrow? Gina seeing you like this?"

He swallowed hard, turning his head to meet my eyes, that beautiful vulnerability cracking through. "Yeah. A little." His voice was rough, still winded from the blowjob.

I circled my fingers lower, brushing his sack lightly, making him shift. "Do you still hate the idea of a girl seeing your tiny shame? Some random hot chick like her spotting this little thing?" I kept my tone teasing, not cruel, but direct—loving how it made him flush deeper, how it put me in charge of his embarrassment. He was too small for that shame to ever fully fade, I figured; it was baked in, part of what made fucking him so addictive. But god, he knew how to use it—relentless, precise, turning lack into fire.

He nodded, eyes dropping to the ground. "I am nervous. Really. What if she laughs? It's... it's not like yours or whatever she's packing."

I didn't sugarcoat it, just traced a nail along his inner thigh, watching his dick give a weak stir. "She will, Greg. It's really small. Four inches hard? Yeah, she'll notice. But that's half the fun, right? Watching you squirm while I ride you in front of her." His breath hitched, and sure enough, blood rushed south—his cock thickening under my touch, shrinking phase over as it stiffened to full mast, that rigid four-incher standing proud against his belly. Fuck, the resilience on him never got old.

I grinned, swinging a leg over him without another word, facing away—reverse cowgirl, my back to his chest, perfect ass right in his face. I gripped his dick at the base, feeling the heat of it, and lowered slow, pussy lips parting easy around the head. No stretch, just that snug slide as I sank down, taking every inch until my cheeks rested on his hips, his balls tucked warm against my ass. "Shit," I moaned, rocking forward a little, the angle letting him hit deep inside without any wasted motion. I started riding, hands braced on his knees for leverage, ass bouncing as I lifted and dropped, pussy gripping him tight with each pass.

His hands came up fast, palms cracking against my cheeks—sharp slaps that echoed through the trees, heat blooming instant across my skin. "Fuck yes," I gasped, grinding down harder, his dick dragging along my front wall, that spot that made my thighs quake. He spanked again, harder, alternating sides, my ass jiggling with the impacts, red marks rising under the moonlight. I moaned loud, no holding back, the control flipping just enough to let him mark me while I owned the pace—up and down, fast now, juices slicking his base and dripping onto his sack. "Slap it harder, Greg—make it hurt."

He did, palms stinging sharp, the pain spiking straight to my clit as I rode his tiny cock relentless. It filled me just right, no overwhelming bulk, just friction building hot and fast, my walls clenching around him like a vice. His grunts mixed with the wet sounds of my pussy swallowing him, thumbs digging into my hips now between slaps, guiding my bounces. "Your ass is insane," he muttered, voice wrecked, landing another smack that jolted me down hard, his dick ramming to the hilt.

Orgasm built quick, coiling tight in my gut— I threw my head back, moaning his name as it crashed over me, pussy fluttering wild, soaking him in a rush that leaked out around his base. He wasn't far behind, hips bucking up to meet me, and I felt him swell, then pulse—hot cum flooding deep, spurt after spurt filling me up, some seeping out to coat his balls as I kept grinding through the aftershocks. We slowed together, my body slumping back against his chest, his hands rubbing my stinging cheeks almost tender now, dick still buried soft inside me.

We stayed like that a while, breaths syncing in the cooling night, the lake lapping soft nearby like it was whispering approvals. I finally lifted off, his cum trickling warm down my thigh, and turned to face him, smirking at that flushed, beautiful mess of a boy. "Gina's gonna eat this up—your little secret show. Think you can handle her laughing while I make you hard again?"

His eyes widened, dick giving a hopeful twitch despite the exhaustion, and I knew tomorrow's chaos would be worth every embarrassed blush.