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No, but wild women do and they don't regret it.

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"We're not going to do that." Rachel said. "So you have a penis smaller than ours. That's like saying you're not as tall as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. What's supposed to be humiliating about that?"

"Yeah... but standing next to him would still make me feel short."

"The point is..." Monica leaned in a little. "Whatever size it is, it doesn't matter right now. You followed us in here because you wanted to do something to our cocks. So here we are."

They were standing in a triangle, Max on his knees, legs tucked under him. Monica and Rachel stood before him, each posing one foot on each of his thighs to keep him where he was. They pointed their cocks towards his face, so close that his breath tickled the tips.

Max had to make a choice here. There really was no going back from here if he did this. Every definition of 'straight' that he could reconcile with went out the window when another penis entered the picture.

Of course, he knew he was going to do this. The only choice... was who to start with.

He moved his head towards Monica's cock. He puckered his lips and kissed the tip. The heat coming off it was incredible, even in this sweltering shower. He kissed it a few more times, and then he blew on it, in a perhaps silly attempt to cool it down. The gentle wind made Monica shudder. She tensed her pelvic floor, and her cock swelled and grew even harder for a moment. The tip grew a little redder, as did Max's cheeks.

Max's hand reached out and held the base of Monica's erection in place. Extending his tongue like he was catching snowflakes, he stroked the tip of his tongue on the underside of Monica's appendage, nestling into the frenular delta and catching a string of something clear on his tongue. He batted it away like a spiderweb, unsure if it was his saliva... or something else.

Max looked up and caught Monica's gaze. She looked down, a gentle sneer on her face. Max looked back down and leaned forward, raking his tongue across the full length of the dorsal side of Monica's cock, his nose running across the side.

Having smelled and tasted it... it wasn't what he expected. There was no smell of sweat or even soap. He could smell her body wash, but the taste was something unique and sweet. Max took another sniff of her cock, his nostrils nearly touching her flesh.

"You love the smell of my body wash, huh?" Monica's sneer inverted into a smirk.

"It might just be the beautiful woman who's wearing it." Max panted.

"Do you want to know what brand it is, so you can buy some and sniff it while you whack it to thoughts of us later?"

Max coughed out a laugh. "You two really know how men think, don't you?"

"What makes you think it's any different than how we think?" Rachel momentarily engaged him over her shoulder before retrieving the bottle from her shower caddy. She held it under his nose, the label facing away from him.

"Just don't squirt it in my face, please." Max put his nose over the hole and took a sniff. It smelled just like Monica's cock, the pleasant perfumes that had clung to her for that promised twelve hours of freshness...

And yet, the bottle was lacking something, that intangible something that made Monica smell that much better.

"It's really nice." Max nodded.

Rachel spun the bottle around. The word "MEN" was larger than the "30% More Free" or the ludicrous name given to this scent. Electric Glacier, or something like that.

Max cried out, "Oh, dammit."

"Yep." Rachel said, returning the bottle to the caddy. "Good ol' Old Spice. The most masculine soap in the world. Being in here with us is basically like being in here with Terry Crews."

"Well..." Max looked to the tile for a second. "He wouldn't have an erection. And even he's not as... huge as you two."

Rachel quickly mumbled, "I'm not actually sure about that."

"If you tell anyone about this encounter, that's what people are going to think.

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