Nick comes face to face with a new living environment. From his tentative grip on the cable-thick towel fiber, his entire view is filled with only one thing: Rob's junk.
Before him spans a forest of tangled wiry hair for as far as the eye can see. Below that, the hairs taper off into foothills unattached and resting on nothing. They are the jock's balls.
Above him towers the giant jock's dick: a massive structure of flesh and majestic enough to overshadow the shrunken Nick.
But the worst part is the smell. Aside from the sweat residue on the towel comes the powerful and repulsing odor of man musk.
Nick struggles to keep a firm grip on the fiber, trying not to concern about his surroundings. Though it is hard to ignore, being so close to something so profound and udderly private.
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