They seem to like it

John nods, his heart racing as he heads back into the house. He finds the bathroom and quickly changes into his new swimsuit, his hands trembling as he adjusts the g-string. He looks in the mirror, his abs rippling with the effort of holding his breath. It's a good look, if he does say so himself. He takes a deep breath and steps out into the party.

The reaction is immediate. The chatter stops, the laughter dies away, and all eyes are on him. The women look surprised, their expressions a mix of shock and something else, something John can't quite put his finger on. Sara's eyes are wide, her mouth open in a silent 'Oh'. "John," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "That's not what I expected."

John looks down at his suit, suddenly self-conscious. "What's wrong with it?" he asks, his voice tight.

Sara shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Nothing," she says, "It's just... not exactly your style. What made you decide to go with that suit?"

John feels his face heat up. "It's just what they had," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's supposed to be good for... uh, swimming."

Sara nods, her smile growing. "Well," she says, "You'll definitely have less water resistance."

John tries to play it cool, his eyes darting around the party. The women are definitely checking him out, their glances lingering a little too long, their whispers a little too loud.

"It's just another day at the pool," John says to himself. "Of course they're checking you out, you look good!" He heads over to the cooler, grabbing a beer and popping the top with a hiss. He takes a long swig, the cold liquid sliding down his throat and giving him a much-needed feeling of familiarity.

"John!" Lauren calls out, holding a red plastic cup in one hand and a pink ping pong ball in the other. "Wanna play a round of beer pong?"

John nods, his heart racing. He tries to tell himself it's just a game, that he's done this a hundred times before. He takes his place at the table, his eyes scanning the crowd.

The women watch him, their glances sneaky and quick. They whisper to each other, their eyes never leaving John's package. But he's not hard. Right now, his cock is as calm as a sleeping giant.

He throws the ball, watching it bounce off the edge of the cup and into the pool with a splash. The women cheer, their laughter music to his ears. He takes another swig of his beer, feeling the coolness spread through his chest. It's going to be okay, he tells himself. Just a normal day at the pool, nothing to worry about.

John starts to relax, the **** loosening his inhibitions. He chats with the other guests, joking and laughing, his eyes lingering on the bobbing breasts and swaying hips of the women around him. He's surprised to find that he's actually having fun, the humiliation of the store already starting to feel like a distant memory. The sun is warm on his skin, and the water is calling to him. He sets his beer down and makes his way to the edge of the pool.

"Marco!" Linda calls out, her eyes closed. She's playing with a group of four other women, their giggles echoing through the air. "Marco!"

"Polo!" the chorus of women reply, their voices a symphony of excitement. John can't help but smile at the innocence of the game, the childlike joy in their voices.

John takes a deep breath and dives into the water. The coolness envelops him, washing away the last of his nerves. He swims underwater for a few strokes before resurfacing, the sound of the game continuing above the water's surface.

As he emerges, he's met with a wall of sound. The women playing are shouting and laughing. All of a sudden, Linda crashes into him. "John!" Linda squeals, her hand shooting out to tag him. He sputters, laughing, as he's pulled into the game.

The game of Marco Polo turns into a full-contact sport, with the women swimming around him, trying to tag him without losing their own balance. He can feel their bodies brushing against him, their hands occasionally grabbing at his suit in a playful manner that sends his pulse racing.

The woman in the yellow bikini, Jenny, is particularly adept at getting close without actually touching him. Her eyes twinkle with mischief every time she says, "Marco," and he swears he can feel the heat of her gaze on his bare skin.

John is laughing and splashing water, trying to keep his distance, when he feels a firm grip on his ankle. He's yanked under the water, and when he resurfaces, he's face to face with Jenny, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

John's cock twitches in his suit, the fabric clinging to him even more than before. He tries to ignore it, focusing on the game, but it's difficult with the wet fabric sticking to his skin and the feel of Jenny's hand on his leg. He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and swims away, only to be tagged again by Amanda, her hand grazing his inner thigh.

Jenny, 'accidentally' splashes him in the face with water as she swims by, her hand grazing his chest. John sputters, his cock giving a little jump in his swimsuit. He pretends not to notice, his cheeks burning as he wipes the water from his eyes.

Then there's Lauren, who 'accidentally' knocks into him while reaching for a float, her breasts pressing into his arm. She giggles, her hand lingering on his shoulder for just a second too long as she apologizes. John's breath catches in his throat, his body tightening with arousal.

Sara is next, her toe 'accidentally' brushing against his thigh as they both swim for the same pool noodle. She looks at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink, and John can't help but feel a thrill run through him. He smiles back, his cock growing even more.

Tiffany, a newcomer to the party, steps on John's hand while climbing out of the pool. She giggles, her bikini top slipping just enough to give him a peek at her firm, round breasts. John quickly averts his eyes to avoid being caught staring.

John decides to take a breather from the water, his heart pounding in his chest. The pool is crowded, and he can feel the beginnings of an erection. He doesn't want to make a scene, so he climbs out.