Dylan’s heart hammered as the mattress quaked beneath Theo’s massive weight, the impact of his ass-first landing sending Dylan tumbling across the rumpled sheets. The air was thick with Theo’s musky scent—sweat, skin, and something raw that made Dylan’s cheeks burn with a mix of fear and forbidden thrill. He scrambled to regain his footing, but the bed shifted again as Theo adjusted, sitting up straight with a low grunt.
“Alright, let’s chill for a sec,” Theo muttered to himself, oblivious to the tiny intruder. His voice rumbled through the air, deep and casual, as he leaned back slightly, shifting his weight to one side.
The movement was catastrophic for Dylan. The sheet beneath him rippled, and before he could grab hold, he slid downward, tumbling into the narrow space created by Theo’s shift. “No, no, no!” Dylan squeaked, his voice a panicked whisper as he fell into the dark, warm crevice of Theo’s ass crack. The world closed in around him, the hairy, sweat-slicked skin towering on either side like a canyon. The sight was overwhelming—a dense forest of coarse hair framing Theo’s hole, pulsing faintly with the giant’s heartbeat. The smell hit Dylan like a wave, a potent mix of sweat, musk, and a sharp, earthy stink that made his head spin.
“Oh god, oh god, I’m in his freaking *crack*!” Dylan whimpered, his tiny hands pressing against the warm, hairy skin to steady himself. The texture was rough, the heat intense, and the sheer intimacy of it sent a jolt through him. He wasn’t mad, not exactly—just caught in a bizarre, electrifying mix of embarrassment and awe. “This is so messed up,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “I’m, like, *next* to his hole. How is this my life right now?”
Theo shifted again, oblivious, his massive form adjusting as he muttered, “Let me get ready for bed.” With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and lay down fully, the mattress sinking under his weight. The movement was like an earthquake, and Dylan yelped as the full weight of Theo’s body settled, pressing him deeper into the crevice. He was pinned now, wedged snugly beside Theo’s hole, the hairy, pulsing skin inches from his face. The smell was overwhelming—thick, sweaty, and unapologetically primal—enveloping him in a haze that was both suffocating and strangely intoxicating.
“Crap, crap, crap!” Dylan whispered, his heart racing. “He’s laying down! I’m stuck!” The heat was unbearable, the air heavy with Theo’s scent, and then it got worse. Theo reached down, pulling the sheets up over himself with a lazy tug. The fabric draped over his body, trapping Dylan in a hotter, darker prison. The temperature spiked, the musky stink intensifying as the sheets sealed him in.
Dylan squirmed, his tiny body pressed against the warm, hairy skin, the proximity to Theo’s hole making his cheeks burn hotter. “Okay, okay, just… don’t panic,” he muttered, half to himself. “You’re not mad, you’re just… weirded out. Really, *really* weirded out.” But deep down, the thrill of it—the danger, the closeness, the sheer wrongness—stirred something in him. He’d always been into guys, and being this close to Theo, even in such a bizarre way, was doing things to him he didn’t want to admit.
“How long am I gonna be stuck here?” he whispered, voice raw with a mix of dread and curiosity. “He’s not getting up anytime soon, is he?” The sheets rustled faintly as Theo settled, his breathing slowing, and Dylan lay there, trapped in the hot, musky darkness, wondering how he’d ever get out—and if he even wanted to.
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