The Nudist Resort
By MinimumSiz3.
We met Jackie and Tom from Chicago, and Jessica and Mark from Austin. All in our late twenties, all couples without kids, all here for the same reason: sun, sand, and sex without consequences. Dinner was at the seafood grill on the terrace, overlooking the ocean. We ordered a round of margaritas, then another, then a bottle of tequila shots for the table.
By the time the sun went down, everyone was loose. The women started talking about vacation sex—how the lack of stress made everything better. Jackie, a blonde with a husky laugh, leaned in and said, “I swear, I forgot how much I love sucking Tom’s fat cock. Like, back home, I’m always thinking about work, groceries, or whatever. Here? I just want it in my throat.”
Tom grinned and flexed an arm. He was a big guy, broad-shouldered, and I’d seen him in his swim trunks—he had a bulge that was hard to miss. Jackie wasn’t exaggerating.
Jessica nodded, swirling her drink. “Mark’s the same. He’s so good at multiple positions. I mean, we tried seven different ones in one session last night. He just keeps going and going.”
Mark shrugged modestly, but I could tell he was proud. He was lean, athletic, and I’d overheard Jessica talking about his stamina earlier.
Then Leanne spoke up. She had that playful, mischievous tone that usually meant she was about to say something that would embarrass me. “Poor Mikey has to use his tongue for me,” she said, tilting her head toward me with a smile. “But he eats twice a day here.”
Jackie’s eyes widened. “Oh, does he have ED?”
Leanne laughed—a sharp, clear laugh that cut through the ocean breeze. “No, he has a tiny peen. As in a babydick.”
The table went quiet for half a second, then Jackie and Jessica burst out laughing. Mark and Tom looked at me with a mixture of pity and amusement. Leanne kept laughing, her hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling.
I felt my face go hot. My cock shrank inside my shorts, retreating like it always did. I could feel it curl up into a tiny, soft nub, barely an inch. Under the table, I pressed my thighs together, as if that could hide it.
“A baby dick?” Jackie repeated, wiping a tear from her eye. “No way. Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Leanne reached over and patted my thigh. “He knows he’s small. We call it his clitty. But he makes up for it with his mouth.”
Jessica leaned forward, her gaze dropping to my lap. “Can I ask… how small is small? Like, are we talking micropenis?”
Leanne shrugged, casual as if discussing the weather. “Maybe four inches hard? But thin. Like, really thin. When he’s soft, it’s like a little pink jelly bean. I honestly have to search for it sometimes.”
Tom let out a low whistle. “Damn, man. That’s rough.”
Mark nodded sympathetically, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching.
I wanted to disappear. To slide under the table and crawl back to the bungalow. But I stayed frozen, my hands wrapped around my margarita glass, knuckles white.
“So you give him blowjobs?” Jackie asked, genuinely curious.
Leanne shook her head. “Not really. There’s not much to suck. I mean, I’ve tried, but it’s like sucking a baby’s thumb. He prefers when I just use my hand or my mouth on his balls while he jerks off.”
Jessica giggled. “Girl, you are way too honest. I love it.”
“Hey, we’re all friends here,” Leanne said. “And Mikey knows it’s true. He’s not insecure about it. Right, babe?”
I forced a smile. “Right.” My voice cracked slightly. I cleared my throat. “We make it work.”
Leanne squeezed my thigh, but the gesture felt more like a reminder than comfort. “He’s a good man. He just has a small dick. It’s not the end of the world.”
The conversation drifted back to other topics—tomorrow’s checkout, the couple’s massage they all wanted to try—but I wasn’t listening. I was replaying her words in my head—tiny peen. Baby dick. Clitty. Pink jelly bean.
Under the table, I pressed my hand against my shorts. I could feel my soft little dick, completely shrunken, barely a bump through the fabric. I remembered my waxing appointment two months ago—Jenna’s two fingers pinching me, stretching me. Same feeling. Same shame.
Later that night, back in the bungalow, Leanne stripped down and lay on the bed. She was beautiful, tan lines stark against her skin, her pussy already wet from the evening’s teasing.
“Come here,” she said. “Show me how you eat.”
I crawled between her legs. She spread them wide, her fingers parting her labia. “You know I love your tongue more than any cock,” she said, her voice softer now. “It’s the truth. You have the best oral in the world. But I also love telling people how tiny you are. It turns me on. Knowing everyone knows you’re a little dick boy.”
I didn’t answer. I just buried my face in her cunt and licked, my tongue working her clit the way she taught me. She moaned and grabbed my hair.
“You’re my pathetic little clit sucker,” she whispered. “And everyone knows it.”
I ate her until she came twice. Then I rolled onto my back and jerked off, my tiny cock—four inches hard, like she said—spurting a weak load onto my stomach. She didn’t even watch. She just rolled over and fell asleep.
I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling fan, feeling the familiar mixture of humiliation and arousal. Tomorrow we’ll fly home. But tonight, everyone at that table knew. Jackie, Jessica, Tom, Mark. They’d all seen the look on my face when Leanne announced my size. They’d all heard the words “baby dick.”
I closed my eyes and touched myself again, already half-hard. It didn’t take much. Just the memory of their laughter, the way Jackie had looked at me with pity, the way Tom had whistled.
I was small. I was tiny. And Leanne made sure everyone knew it.
I came again, this time with a groan, and finally let myself sleep.
The End.
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