Hot Tub of Shame

Two months ago, my girlfriend Alicia and I were invited to a party at Kim's sleek new house, a sprawling modern place with a deck that overlooked the woods. The night started innocently enough--laughter, cocktails, and a crowd of friends spilling across the rooms. After the last guests stumbled out into the night, Alicia offered to help Kim with the dishes, their chatter echoing from the kitchen. Meanwhile, I lounged in the game room with Tom, Kim's boyfriend, sipping whiskey and idly flipping through channels on the massive TV. The air was warm, the vibe lazy--until Kim burst in, her eyes glinting with mischief, and suggested we all try out their brand-new hot tub.

We shuffled out to the deck, the cool night air prickling my skin. Without a hint of hesitation, Kim peeled off her tight dress, letting it crumple to the wooden boards, revealing her bare, curvaceous body before slipping into the bubbling water. "Come on, Alicia, don't be a prude!" she teased, splashing water toward her. Alicia blushed, glancing at me nervously, but Kim's taunts wore her down. Soon, Alicia's clothes joined Kim's on the deck, her slender frame glowing under the moonlight as she slid into the tub. Tom and I exchanged a look--half-amused, half-daring--and followed suit, stripping down to nothing and sinking into the steaming water.

At first, it was all playful giggles and splashes, the four of us naked and carefree. But then I noticed it--Tom's cock, even soft, hung heavy between his legs, thick and intimidating, swaying slightly as he shifted in the water. The girls' laughter grew louder, more conspiratorial, until Kim broke the tension. "Tom, babe, grab us another round of drinks," she purred, her voice dripping with intent. Tom stood, water cascading off his broad frame, and that's when everything shifted. His cock--half-hard now--jutted out like a goddamn trophy, easily six inches long, thick and veined, pulsing slightly as it caught the dim deck lights. Both women fell silent, their eyes locked on it. Alicia's cheeks flushed crimson, her breath shallow, while Kim shot me a quick, dismissive glance and asked some pointless question about the weather--obviously trying to keep me from noticing.

But I couldn't look away. My eyes were glued to it, tracing every inch of that monstrous thing swaying with Tom's every move. It was hypnotic--powerful, masculine in a way I'd never be. Then I felt it: two sets of eyes on me. Alicia and Kim had caught me staring, and their silence broke into stifled, conspiratorial giggles. Kim smirked, whispering something to Alicia that made her cover her mouth, her eyes darting between me and Tom's cock. My face burned, humiliation crashing over me like a wave--they thought I liked it, that I was some kind of pervert getting off on the sight. I wanted to shout, to tell them they were wrong, but deep down, I couldn't even admit to myself why my gaze lingered. Instead, my mind betrayed me, spinning a vivid, unwanted image: that thick, half-hard beast sliding into Alicia's tight pussy, stretching her in ways I never could, her moans echoing as she took it all. I shoved the thought down, drowning it in denial, but the heat in my gut wouldn't fade. I sank lower into the water, praying they wouldn't see how small and shriveled I looked in comparison, while Alicia stayed quiet for the rest of the night, her mind clearly somewhere else.

The rest of the week, Alicia seemed off--distant, distracted, her usual warmth replaced by a quiet tension. Friday night, we sat at a candlelit table in our favorite restaurant, the hum of other diners around us. She fidgeted with her wine glass, then leaned in, her voice low and trembling. "Alex, I love you so much, and I don't want to hurt you, but... we need to talk."

My stomach tightened as she spilled it all. She'd seen Tom's cock in the hot tub--six inches soft, she guessed, and Kim had bragged it stretched to eight when he was hard. Then came the gut punch: she'd clocked me at four and a half inches, tops, even when I was fully erect. "Kim couldn't stop laughing about how... small you are," Alicia admitted, her eyes dropping to the table. "She said I might be missing out, that I'd never know what a real man feels like." My face burned. I scanned the room, paranoid someone had overheard, but the clatter of plates and chatter drowned her out. "What the hell are you saying?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I meant. She apologized, tears welling, and said Kim had offered to let Tom fuck her--just once--to "show her what she's been missing." She wanted my okay before saying yes.

I nearly choked on my wine. "Are you fucking kidding me? No way, Alicia. That's insane." She nodded, mumbling more apologies, and we finished dinner in suffocating silence. That night, we climbed into bed without a word, the space between us cold and vast.

The next week, Kim and Alicia schemed again. They hit up a sex shop and came back with a hollow strap-on--a nine-inch beast, an inch longer than Tom's "massive" cock, designed for guys with ED but perfect for their little experiment. That evening, Kim showed up at our place, tossing me a bag with a smug grin. "Try it out, Alex. Give her what she's craving." Alicia watched me, her eyes wide with curiosity, and I felt my pride shrivel. But I couldn't say no--not when she looked at me like that, like I was less than a man without it.

In the bathroom, I wrestled with the thing. My cock twitched as I lubed it up with KY, sliding my pathetic four-and-a-half inches into the hollow shaft. The tip had a tiny vibrator, and when I flicked it on, a jolt shot through me, making me harder despite the humiliation. I stepped out, the monstrous fake cock jutting from my hips, and Alicia burst out laughing--half-nervous, half-mocking. "Oh my God, Alex, you look ridiculous," she giggled, covering her mouth.

I climbed onto the bed, my cheeks burning as I nudged the thick head against her pussy. She tensed, her breath hitching as I pushed in, inch by agonizing inch. "Slow, slow," she gasped, her nails digging into my arms. It took forever to bury it all, her tight walls stretching around the unyielding girth. She winced, clearly in pain, but kept urging me on--"Don't stop, Alex, I want it"--her voice a mix of determination and desperation. The vibrator buzzed against my cock, amplifying every thrust, and soon I came hard, my cum pooling uselessly in the strap-on's tip. Alicia shuddered through her own orgasms, her moans louder than I'd ever heard, her body quaking beneath me.

After, I collapsed beside her, panting. "So, you satisfied now? Got the big cock thing out of your system?" She didn't catch my sarcasm. "Oh, Alex, it was so much better," she gushed, oblivious to the knife she'd just twisted. "I had no idea what I was missing. Can we do it again?" My stomach sank. We fucked three more times that night, the strap-on always ready even when I wasn't, each round hammering home how inadequate I really was. By the end, I felt like a hollow shell, a prop in her fantasy.

The next night, I tried fucking her with just me--no strap-on, just my bare, average cock. Two thrusts in, she frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "I can barely feel you, Alex. Please, put it on again." Her words hit like a slap, my pride crumbling as I stared at her pleading face. For a month, it was the same--she'd only let me touch her with that damn thing. Finally, I snapped, chucking it in the trash. She flipped out, refusing to let me near her for over a week. Then she bought another one, waving it at me like a taunt. "I'm not wearing that fucking thing," I growled, and that was that.

The next day, she hung out with Kim, leaving me to scrub dishes and stew in my own misery. I knew she'd spill everything to Kim--how I couldn't satisfy her, how my little dick was a joke. When she got home after eight, she plopped onto the couch across from me, her expression flat. "I had sex with Tom," she said, like she was announcing the weather. I froze, my throat tight. "Say something!" she shouted, her voice cracking. I had nothing. I just stood, walked to our bedroom, and crashed face-first into the pillow.

Weeks passed in near silence, our relationship a ghost of itself. Then one evening, the doorbell jolted me out of my haze. Kim stood there, alone, her eyes sharp with something I couldn't place. "Alicia's not with you?" I asked, confused. She shook her head, asking for a drink. Over a glass of bourbon, she unloaded: Alicia had been fucking Tom behind her back--more than that one time. Kim had caught them, and Tom didn't want to stop. Worse, she and Tom were trying for a baby, but he was too busy screwing my girlfriend to care. "I want to get even," Kim said, her tone icy.

I laughed bitterly. "What, with me? My cock's too small to make it worth your while." She smirked, pulling another strap-on from her purse--nine inches, just like before. "Then use this." My head spun. I shouldn't, but fuck it--why not? In the bedroom, I strapped it on, the familiar shame washing over me as I lubed up. Kim stripped, her body softer and looser than Alicia's tight frame, and I wasn't even that into it. I fucked her with the thing anyway, pounding her for twenty minutes until she came, her moans sharp and needy. The vibrator had me hard again, so I yanked off the strap-on and slid my bare cock into her dripping pussy. She gasped, surprised. "Wait, I can actually feel you," she muttered, letting me keep going. I came inside her, smirking as she panted, "Pull out before you cum!" Too late, I thought, chuckling darkly. "Guess you're a little behind."