The knee was safe, a stable perch, but the allure of the unknown—the heat, the scent, the danger—urged him upward. He muttered to himself, voice barely a whisper, “You’re insane, Dylan. This is nuts… but I’ve come this far.”
He decided to press on, driven by a mix of curiosity and that strange thrill coursing through him. Hand over hand, he hauled himself higher, navigating the rough terrain of James’s thigh. The skin here was warmer, the hairs sparser but thicker, each one a challenge to grip. The musky scent grew stronger, intoxicating, making his head swim as he neared the edge of James’s underwear. Below, the fabric clung tightly to the groin, a dark, mysterious expanse that pulsed with heat.
Dylan paused, clinging to a fold of skin near the hem of the underwear. His breath hitched as he peered down at the taut fabric, the outline of James’s groin unmistakable. “God, what am I doing?” he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. James, oblivious, shifted slightly, causing a tremor that nearly shook Dylan loose. He clung tighter, heart racing. “Easy, big guy… don’t squash me yet.”
Now, a new decision loomed. He could venture closer to the groin, slipping beneath the underwear’s edge to explore that heated, intimate terrain—an idea that sent a flush through him, equal parts daring and reckless. Or, he could pivot, climbing around to the backside, downward toward James’s plump ass, a secret desire Dylan barely admitted to himself. The thought of that softer, curved landscape made his pulse quicken, a guilty thrill he couldn’t quite shake.
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