President Jackson’s dead eyes stare up at you as you hold onto the paper money. The rough surface has enough texture for you to grip easily, and the back-and-forth swaying of the giant as he walks almost reminds of you being rocked in a hammock during a lazy summer day. Looking to the side, the man’s massive penis swings back and forth, keeping time like a fleshy pendulum. A neatly-trimmed forest of dark pubes sits right underneath the waistband of the trunks. You return to having a staring contest with Mr. Jackson.
Suddenly, a salty smell assaults your nose. Water begins to lap at your feet, and the dollar bill begins to shrivel up as it takes on water like a sponge. You try to climb up the mesh threads of the pocket, but the water level quickly rises over your head. You feel like you’re trapped in a fisherman’s net. The cash floats by, resembling a giant green piece of seaweed. The top of the pocket is sealed shut from the water pressure, and your tiny arms can’t force it open. Your lungs begin to burn as your strenuous activity quickly depletes the remaining oxygen in your blood.
In desperation, you swim between the mesh ropes that form the pocket, into the dark space between the man’s thigh and the swim trunks. The hair on his legs wiggle in the current like seaweed, and you grab onto a cluster of them to steady yourself as he continues to walk. His massive movements continually create eddies of water around your tiny body that threaten to pull you down like a riptide. Trying to remember your swimming lessons from so many years ago, you thrust your arms and legs forward in the darkness,. Suddenly, you bump into something warm and wrinkly. With arms and legs outstretched, you grab onto the round object, feeling wiry hairs tickling your body. You realize that you have grabbed onto the giant’s scrotum, shriveled from the cold water. Looking up through the shimmering water, you can see a pocket of air just below the waistband of the giant’s trunks before spots cover your vision from the lack of oxygen. Thankfully, the man has stopped moving, and you take the opportunity to scramble up the sheer surface of the giant’s testicle. Grabbing handfuls of the wrinkled flesh brings back memories of climbing a steep rock wall, except this cliff face is the scrotum of a living mountain. The man’s massive penis floats serenely beside you like a sleeping whale.
Skin gives way to a thick carpet of hair as you reach the giant’s pubic forest. The thick wet strands entangle your body, wrapping around your arms and legs like an octopus’s tentacles. The air pocket is just above your head, barely out of reach. In a panic, you thrash out. Your arms and legs cry out from the effort. Just as you are about to pass out, you are finally free of the pubic prison. You begin to float backwards, until your back presses up against a smooth, warm surface. The shaft of the giant’s colossal manhood extends before you, its tip drooping downward. You now know what a barnacle feels like when it attaches itself to a blue whale: utterly insignificant, lost among an incomprehensible girth. The man’s warmth flows through your chilled body, and you spread your arms and legs out as if you were hugging a tree trunk, welcoming the heat entering your body. You can feel the blood pulsing through a prominent vein just under your hand.
A sudden shudder reverberates through the man’s cock, causing you to grip on tighter, lest you get thrown off the awakening beast. The powerful penis begins to rise, bringing you along for the ride. You can feel the blood flow increase to a thundering roar. Like a whale breaching the surface of the ocean, the colossal manhood begins to tent the swim trunks as it pokes into the small pocket of air. The air is stale and musty, but you gulp it into your lungs greedily. You lay on your back, arms and legs spread wide, feeling the titan’s heartbeat throb through the rigid cock. The penis bobs gently on miniature waves in this closed ecosystem on the man’s trunks.
As you massage your sore limbs, you can suddenly feel water splashing against your body. The rock-hard rigidness of your penis platform has begun to soften, as the cock starts to deflate and slowly sink under the waves. In a panic, you begin to scrabble along the length of the dick, hoping to reach the pink head and make a jump toward the towering wall of the man’s swim trunks. You pull yourself along the penis by grabbing handfuls of the hot flesh as the cock begins to descend. When you reach the taut skin of the head, however, something strange happens. The penis begins to rise again! You are ecstatic that you won’t be thrown back into the unforgiving waves. However, you also realize that your minuscule exertions have aroused the titan enough to get him erect and keep you within the wonderful pocket of air at the top of the swim trunks. Your salvation will hinge upon your ability to keep him horny. Taking a deep breath into your lungs, you begin to rub and knead the boiling-hot flesh the best you can. You even begin to kiss and lick the cock, tasting the mix of saltwater and masculine musk. Certainly, your efforts have not gone unnoticed by the god whose manhood you are currently worshiping.
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