In a fantastical realm where the laws of size and scale wove a tapestry of wonder and primal allure, a giant named Torvald lived. Torvald was a towering embodiment of rugged masculinity, his body a breathtaking expanse of raw power, with broad shoulders and a chiseled form that seemed carved from the cliffs themselves. His skin was rough and sun-kissed, and his deep, resonant snores rolled through the land like a low, seductive rumble. A solitary soul, he roamed the wilds of his vast world, heedless of the smaller beings who darted beneath his gaze. On this day, Torvald succumbed to a deep, lustful slumber within a cavernous hollow etched into a mountainside. The air was thick and sultry, and he lay sprawled across the stone floor, gloriously naked, his massive chest heaving with each slow, potent breath.
Unbeknownst to Torvald, a tiny figure named Elias had breached his sanctuary. Elias was a daring young man from a village of diminutive folk who thrived in the giants’ shadows. Barely the height of Torvald’s smallest toe, Elias had a lean, wiry frame, his dark hair tousled and his hazel eyes glinting with a mix of boldness and a particular fixation. Legends of the giants—beings of overwhelming scale and untamed virility—had long fueled his desires, but their sheer physicality, especially their backsides, truly captivated him. An unapologetic “ass person,” Elias had left his village’s confines, driven by a restless hunger, equipped only with a small pack and a flickering lantern. After scaling the jagged cliffs and slipping through a narrow fissure, he found himself in Torvald’s presence.
The cavern shimmered faintly, Elias’s lantern casting a warm glow across the stone, mingling with slivers of sunlight from above. His breath caught as he beheld Torvald’s sleeping form. The giant’s body unfurled before him like an erotic terrain—swelling mounds of muscle, shadowed dips of skin, and a wild thicket of hair sprawling across his chest and lower. The air was laden with a musky, primal scent, and every so often, a deep growl rumbled from Torvald’s core, followed by a hot, earthy gust that ruffled Elias’s hair. Torvald, gassy even in repose, remained blissfully unaware of the tiny man drawn irresistibly to his form.
Elias lingered at the threshold, his pulse hammering with awe and a singular craving. His eyes traced Torvald’s body but inevitably settled on the giant’s hips, imagining what lay beyond. His fixation urged him onward. He approached Torvald’s massive foot, its arch a towering gateway, and pressed a hand to it, relishing the rough, heated skin. With a determined breath, he climbed, fingers gripping the creases, until he stood atop the giant’s ankle, his gaze already drifting toward his true destination.
Fueled by his obsession, Elias veered from the expected path. Instead of ascending Torvald’s chest, he circled around, traversing the giant’s thigh—a thick, muscular ridge that made his mouth water. The giant shifted slightly, a tremor that quickened Elias’s pulse, but Torvald slept on. Elias pressed forward, descending descending now toward Torvald’s hips. The air grew thicker, the occasional burst of gas—a warm, pungent wind—only heightening Elias’s anticipation, a smirk tugging at his lips as he imagined the source. Finally, he reached the curve of Torvald’s lower back, the giant’s ass rising before him like a monumental prize—firm, round, and utterly mesmerizing. Elias’s breath hitched, his hands itching to explore as the giant groaned, a low, primal sound, his belly gurgling ominously. Another wave of gas rolled through, hot and heady, and Elias froze, realizing Torvald might wake.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author