I think he'll be just fine, better than fine

John tries to focus on the game, but his eyes keep wandering. The sight of their wet bikinis, clinging to their curves, is too much. Despite his injury, the day's events have left John exceedingly horny. Each bounce and giggle makes him painfully aware of his own arousal, his cock straining against the fabric of his suit. He can feel the heat of it, the pressure building with every moment.

As the contest goes on, the women grow bolder in their splashes, their bodies flying through the air in a symphony of skin and water. The sight is mesmerizing, a dance of beauty and power. And John, despite his injury, feels like he's a part of it all.

When it finally ends, Jenny emerges the victor, her cannonball sending waves across the pool. She climbs out, her hair plastered to her face, her bikini clinging to her curves like a second skin. The others follow suit, their laughter and chatter filling the air. One by one, the guests begin to leave.

As the party winds down, Jenny, Lauren, Sara, Tiffany, and Amanda decide to stay behind. They all make their way over to the hot tub, where John is trying to keep his arousal hidden beneath the bubbles. Jenny and Lauren settle on either side of him, their warmth enveloping him as they squeeze into the small space. Sara and Tiffany take the opposite side, while Amanda sits across from him.

The water is warm, soothing the tension from John's body. But their proximity sends his heart racing, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. He tries to keep the conversation light, but his voice is tight, strained by his constant battle to remain composed.

"John," Lauren says snapping John out of his thoughts, "how was the party?"

The jets pulse against John's sore leg, the pain a dull throb that keeps his mind from straying too far. "Even though I got hurt, it was still really fun," John admits.

"We were all glad that you were here," adds Tiffany.

"So how is your leg feeling?" Sara asks with genuine concern in her voice.

"it's not terrible," John admits, "the hot tub is helping."

Then Jenny, with a smile that's half concern and half mischief, says, "Hey, let me rub that for you. I'm a masseuse. Maybe I can help."

John's cheeks flush, "Oh, no," he says, his voice tight. "It's okay. I'll be fine."

But Jenny's already sliding closer, her hands hovering over his bruised thigh. She starts to knead, her fingers pressing into his skin with surprising strength. The sensation sends a jolt through his body, and for a moment, John isn't sure if it's pain or pleasure that's making his breath hitch.

Her hands move in slow circles, the pressure just right. He can feel the muscles in his leg begin to relax, the ache fading into a distant memory. It feels... good. Really good. And for a moment, he lets himself sink into the sensation, lets the warmth of the water and the gentle pressure of Jenny's hands chase away the fear and the embarrassment.

But then she goes a little too high. Her thumb brushes against the fabric of his g-string, sending a shock of pleasure up his spine. His eyes fly open, and he looks at her, his heart racing. But she just smiles, her eyes locked on his. "Sorry," she says, not sounding sorry at all. "Is that too much?"

John swallows hard, his mouth dry. "N-no," he says, his voice a whisper. "It's... it's fine."

Jenny's hands keep moving, her thumbs tracing the edge of his suit. It's a dance, a tease that's driving him insane. And with every touch, every accidental graze, his cock swells, straining against the fabric.

Lauren leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Honestly, John," she says, her voice low and teasing. "You don't seem like the g-string type of guy. What's with the suit?"

"So, it's kind of a long story," he says, his voice shaky.

Lauren nods, her eyes on him. "Okay," she says, drawing out the word. "We've got time."

"It's kind of an embarrassing story," John admits.