Play Pool Volley Ball

“I’m game.”

An ecstatic Alex pumped his fist in the air. Tristian purveyed acceptance via a terse nod. Debbie’s smile elated him, more so since this was genuine commendation, unlike most, if not all, their interactions before. Alex and Lou approached the large pool gathered with dozens who discussed who would be on the four teams readied to play. Guests rushed to take part with Tristian and Debbie, forming a team of six. Alex and Lou had similar excitement when forming their own group. Many giving them admiring or entranced looks upwards of submissiveness. Even the straight men who faced phrenic barriers in minding Lou’s absurd manhood.

In the brief interval, the teams were set. Tristian and Debbie on one. Alex and Lou on the other. Each group of six stationed in a quadrant of the square pool, defined by the four-squared cross net. Lou took charge, positioning his team members in their section. To his surprise, the men, even the more aggressive alphas, gave no push back.

Maybe he should hang out naked more often.

No.

Lou drew a deep breath, slyly pushing his prosthetic against his groin. His heart pounded. A drill against his chest.

Hoping.

No. Praying to whoever would listen that he would not be exposed at the game.

“Start!” shouted a staff member.

In seconds, a ball plummeted from the sky into Tristian’s palm. He arranged himself in Lou’s direction, giving his former bully a wink before tossing the ball up and striking. It volleyed towards Lou, who already shuffled through the waters prior to it being served. Without effort, he cushioned the ball along his arms ahead of quickly passing with his forearms over the net to the team adjacent him.

“Fucking Beast!” cried Alex, setting the tone for the entire game.

If asked, the rapt, excited audience would say the tournament was between Lou and the cruise line. Every play by the athletic jock either eliminated or hindered the surrounding groups, causing them to shift through the quadrants while Lou (and his team) remained in theirs. Lou assembled points at a speed that made Tristian regret his earlier goading.

Additionally, Debbie’s giddy and constant wows and greats far from helped matters. Her euphoric wonders smoothed along from him towards Lou, and there was nothing he could do. In under ten minutes, Lou’s team won, generating ubiquitous applause from everyone in the area. Including TC, despite it being just for show. His team surrounded him, giving him hugs and handshakes. Even kisses. Majority on the cheeks, of course.

“My best bro everybody! Isn’t he a fucking ace!?” cried Alex.

“Celebrate! Celebrate!” exclaimed the crowd.

Their excitement bolstered when Lou responded in the positive.

“Free food and drinks, Mr Billionaire?!”

Tristian narrowed his eyes, accepting defeat.

“Sure, I’ll do it for the winner,” he strained.

For the next twenty-eight and a half minutes, Lou appeared on top of the world.

For a second time that night, he tossed all worries into the wind. Now with several new friends and ship confrères. But unlike before, Debbie revelled at his side by the leaps and bounds. Hugging and rubbing on his broad body and smiling and laughing at his every word. In drawing things to a close, the veil of their relationship’s ambiguity vanished out of sight. As tangible as the thin air. Lou occupied a seventh heaven free of stressors. Only him and Debbie. Just what he wanted, although his everlasting erection started to prove deficient for his wobbly prosthetic. The drunken Alex, along with his **** friends, gave their seal of approvals as Lou and Debbie danced on the centre stage before everyone on the deck.

Tristian maintained his distance on the lounge chair across from them, his head rested on his fist as he watched the two.

“Lou! Lou!” cried a gigantesque male, shakily holding a large trophy at the handles. “I found your reward! Want it now?!”

Tristian jumped up, directing his employees towards the man.

“What are you doing?! Put that down!”

The trembling guest panicked, surrounded by men similar to or larger than him. His expression haggard. He looked left and right before doing the first thing that came to mind.

Throw the trophy!

“BRO WATCH OUT!” bellowed Alex, his voice grated like metal.

Lou and Debbie turned; their eyes widened at the hefty and incoming projectile. At once Lou pushed Debbie to the side, positioning himself to catch the object, wavering once it plummeted into his large palms and chest. And so, at the twenty ninth minute, Lou took a heavy breath, holding out the golden cup in his right palm.

“Fuck,” he muttered before standing straight.

He looked to find a subdued Debbie opening and closing her mouth as she stared at Lou.

“You’re okay babe?”

Silence.

Debbie laid on the ground, propped up by her arms. Gawking at him. Lou turned, observing the other guests. All several hundred looking at him. As if he had committed ****.

Or grew multiple heads.

He scanned the crowd, passing over the grimacing and confused expressions--both, in particular, expelling from Tristian--before he matched eyes with Alex. But all the bulky fellow did was shake his head, casting a side glance to the video wall on his left. Once Lou looked, his full body paled.

There, focused in 4K ultra-high-definition resolution, was him. Standing stupefied in his entire nude and muscular glory.

His broad and burly thighs and legs.

His well-defined and wide chest.

His deliciously beefy bubble ass.

And finally...

...his powerfully taut one-inch dick.

In the same instant, Lou cupped his groin with both palms, bending ever so slightly forward as if to push his shame further away from the silent guests. The pervading music paused, during which more gazes turned toward Lou by instalments. His golden skin became orange, his embarrassment now venturing into humiliation. He looked around, the heavy sound of his wet feet pittering and pattering against the ground.

Where is it?! Where did it go?!

As if reading his mind, he could make out the guests’ murmurs.

“I thought it was a snake...”

“It flew into the air. I don’t see where it could have gone...”

“Do you think it melted?”

Lou’s chest hitched at his throat, each attempt at breathing jerking him as the comments continued.

“Was he faking it the entire time...”

“He must know. No way a guy like that doesn’t know...”

“Fuck. What’s he going to do...?”

Lou turned to Debbie, tension paining every part of his body when he noted the pure disgust on her face.

Her mottled skin. Her flared nostrils. Her strained neck and knuckles.

“Lou Smallwood,” her authoritarian persona returned, “what happened to your dick?!”

Her exclamation resounded as if spoken through a speaker system.

She echoed once.

Twice??

Trice???

Lou looked up, audibly **** at the video walls and large screens exhibiting recordings of his erect nub against Debbie’s repeating voice. Amusement cracked through Alex’s sincere concern.

“Lou Smallwood, what happened to your dick?!”

First, a hesitant smirk. Then a slight, genuine smile.

“Lou Smallwood, what happened to your dick?!”

Titters here and there. Then full-on chuckles. Chuckles which jumped to another guest.

“Lou Smallwood, what happened to your dick?!”

Then three. Then ten. Now exponential. Waves after waves of reverberating hilarity. Amplified so loud it proved the proper reply to Debbie’s inquiry given the jock’s stunned suppression. Earlier, he had prayed to whoever would listen. Prayed to not be uncovered during their little competition. The irony was...he had got his wish. His tiny micro dick was exposed to hundreds after.