Ethan Kane, a 21-year-old rugby god, stirred in the tangled sheets of his king-sized bed, his body sprawled across the mattress like a sculpted monument to masculine perfection. His 6’2” frame was a masterpiece of raw power and chiseled beauty—broad shoulders that could carry the weight of a scrum, pecs so thick they strained every shirt he owned, and a five-pack of abs that looked carved from marble, each ridge glistening with a faint sheen of sweat from the humid night air. His biceps, thick as steel cables, flexed unconsciously as he shifted, his forearms roped with veins that pulsed with every heartbeat. His thighs, massive and defined, could crush a tackle dummy, and his calves were sculpted knots of muscle, honed from years of sprinting across the pitch. His skin, a sun-kissed bronze, glowed under the moonlight streaming through his open window, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw, dusted with a faint scruff, and the tousled, dark blond hair that fell in sweaty strands across his forehead. Ethan was a walking fantasy, a cocky jock with a grin that melted hearts and a reputation for leaving a trail of satisfied girls in his wake. But beneath that confident swagger, a spark of curiosity burned—a secret urge to explore something wilder, something forbidden.
His eight-inch cock, a thick, veiny beast that had earned him locker room legends, lay heavy against his thigh, barely contained by the tight black boxer briefs that hugged his muscular ass like a second skin. Ethan’s body was a temple of desire, every inch radiating heat and power, from the deep V of his Adonis belt to the faint trail of dark hair that led from his navel to the bulging prize below. He’d been a week without release, his balls heavy and aching, his body thrumming with pent-up need.
As he drifted in that hazy space between sleep and waking, a strange sensation prickled across his skin. His eyes fluttered open, expecting the familiar sight of his bedroom ceiling, but instead, he found himself surrounded by a surreal, dreamlike jungle. The air was thick, humid, and alive with the scent of earth and something sweeter, almost intoxicating. His bed was gone, replaced by a massive, ancient tree, its rough bark pressing into the corded muscles of his back. Ethan’s breath caught as he realized his wrists were bound above his head, not by ropes but by sinuous, emerald-green tentacles—living, pulsing vines that coiled around his forearms like lovers’ hands, their grip firm yet strangely sensual, allowing only the faintest twitch of movement. His powerful arms strained, biceps bulging, veins popping under his skin, but the tentacles held fast, their smooth, cool surfaces sliding against his wrists with a teasing caress.
Ethan’s heart pounded, his broad chest heaving, the slabs of his pecs rising and falling with each ragged breath. His nipples, already sensitive from the cool night air, hardened into tight peaks, standing out against the smooth expanse of his chest. His abs clenched, the five distinct ridges flexing as he tested his bonds, his body a taut bow of muscle and desire. He was still in his black boxer briefs, the fabric stretched obscenely over his thickening cock, the outline of his massive shaft and heavy balls clear as day. The jungle air kissed his skin, warm and humid, making every inch of his body feel hypersensitive, alive with anticipation.
Then he felt it—a ticklish, featherlight touch across his chest. Small tentacles, no thicker than his pinky, slithered over his pecs, their tips brushing his nipples with agonizing slowness. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to his groin. Ethan gasped, his deep voice rough with surprise, as the tentacles circled his nipples, flicking and teasing, their smooth, silky surfaces sending shivers down his spine. Each touch was like a lover’s tongue, warm and deliberate, coaxing his nipples into harder, more sensitive peaks. His abs tightened, the ridges of his five-pack rippling as the tentacles trailed lower, skimming the deep grooves of his Adonis belt, tickling the sensitive skin just above his waistband. The sensation was maddening—light, teasing, and utterly relentless, stoking a fire in his core that made his cock throb painfully against the confines of his briefs.
“Fuck…” Ethan groaned, his voice low and gravelly, his head tilting back against the tree. His cock swelled, the thick, eight-inch shaft straining against the fabric, the head already leaking a bead of precum that soaked through, darkening the material. The tentacles seemed to sense his arousal, their movements growing bolder. A few smaller tendrils slipped beneath the waistband, their cool, slick surfaces brushing against the sensitive skin of his pelvis. Ethan’s hips bucked instinctively, a low moan escaping his lips as the tentacles tugged, the fabric stretching with a slow, torturous rip. His boxer briefs gave way, tearing apart to reveal his massive cock, which sprang free and slapped against his abs with a wet, resounding thwack. The head, swollen and glistening, left a slick trail of precum across the chiseled ridges of his stomach, the musky scent of his arousal filling the air.
Ethan’s body was a vision of raw, masculine beauty—his cock stood proud, thick veins pulsing along its length, the shaft curving slightly upward, the head flushed a deep, needy red. His balls, heavy and full, hung low, aching with a week’s worth of pent-up desire. The tentacles didn’t hesitate. They danced across his body, their touch both torturous and exquisite, exploring every inch of his sculpted form. Smaller tendrils returned to his nipples, joined now by strange, tulip-like buds, each no bigger than a thumbnail. Their petals unfurled, revealing soft, moist interiors that shimmered like wet silk. They latched onto his nipples, their petal-lips closing over the sensitive buds with a warm, sucking pressure that felt like thick, plush lips working him over. Ethan’s back arched, his pecs flexing, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as the tulip-tentacles sucked, their rhythmic pulsing sending waves of pleasure crashing through his chest. Each suck was a perfect blend of wet heat and firm pressure, like a lover who knew exactly how to drive him wild.
His cock pulsed against his abs, leaking steadily now, coating his five-pack in a sweet, musky slickness that glistened in the jungle’s dim light. The scent of his own arousal was intoxicating, mixing with the earthy richness of the jungle to create a heady, primal atmosphere. Ethan’s mind reeled, his body a live wire of sensation. The tentacles seemed to know every secret spot, every nerve that could make him tremble. His nipples throbbed under the tulip-tentacles’ relentless suction, each pull sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock, making it twitch and drip. His abs clenched, the ridges flexing as smaller tendrils teased the sensitive skin between them, tickling and stroking, stoking a burning desire that made his balls ache.
“Goddamn… oh, fuck…” Ethan panted, his voice thick with lust, his chiseled jaw clenched as he fought the overwhelming need building inside him. His cock was a steel rod now, the head swollen and slick, every vein pulsing with need. The tentacles played with him mercilessly, their touch both teasing and commanding. Then, a new presence emerged—a larger tentacle, thicker and more imposing, its tip a massive tulip-like bloom the size of a real flower, its petals glistening with a strange, inviting sheen. It hovered over Ethan’s abs, its petal-lips lapping at the precum that pooled there, each lick slow and deliberate, like a tongue savoring every drop. The sensation was pure fire—warm, wet, and so intense it made his cock jump, his balls tightening with need.
Ethan’s moans grew louder, his voice raw and desperate. The large tentacle coiled playfully around the base of his cock, squeezing just enough to make his hips buck, then releasing, only to wrap around again, teasing him to the brink of insanity. Its petal-lips brushed against his balls, kissing them with a soft, wet caress that sent shivers through his entire body. Then, in a single, breathtaking moment, the tulip-head engulfed his balls entirely. The sensation was beyond anything Ethan had ever felt—warm, slick, and impossibly tight, like a perfect mouth that sucked and pulsed with expert precision. The tentacle rolled his balls gently, the wet heat enveloping them, drawing out pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. No girl had ever come close to this, and Ethan’s body trembled, his muscles flexing, his abs clenching as he fought the urge to explode.
“Fuck… oh, God… fuck…” he groaned, his voice breaking, his head thrashing against the tree. The tentacle worked his balls with relentless skill, sucking and pulsing, each movement sending a wave of ecstasy through his core. His cock throbbed, leaking a steady stream of precum that coated his abs, the musky scent driving him wild. The smaller tulip-tentacles on his nipples kept up their assault, sucking in perfect rhythm with the larger tentacle, creating a symphony of pleasure that consumed him entirely. His body was a furnace, every nerve alight with sensation, his cock aching for release.
The large tentacle didn’t stop. It released his balls with a wet pop, leaving them throbbing and slick, and began to move upward, its petal-lips tracing the sensitive underside of his cock. Each lick was slow, deliberate, exploring every vein, every ridge, savoring the slickness of his precum. Ethan’s hips bucked, his moans turning to desperate whimpers as the tentacle reached the swollen head of his cock. It teased the tip, circling the sensitive ridge, lapping at the slit where precum dripped in a steady stream. The sensation was torturous, a perfect blend of wet heat and teasing pressure that made his entire body shake.
Then, with agonizing slowness, the tulip-head opened wider, its petals parting to reveal a soft, juicy interior that shimmered like wet velvet. It engulfed his cockhead, sucking it in with a warm, pulsing pressure that felt like a mouth designed solely for his pleasure. Ethan’s eyes rolled back, a primal moan tearing from his throat as the tentacle took him deeper, its petals sliding down his shaft, inch by inch, until it reached the base, engulfing his entire eight-inch cock right down to his balls. The sensation was overwhelming—hot, wet, and impossibly tight, the tulip-head’s interior pulsing and sucking with a rhythmic force that felt like it was pulling his soul from his body. The pressure was relentless, the petals massaging every inch of his shaft, the suction so strong it made his balls ache with the need for release. Ethan’s body trembled, his pecs flexing, his abs clenching, his voice reduced to a series of raw, desperate moans as the tentacle sucked him hard, holding him on the edge of ecstasy.
The tulip-head’s suction was relentless—hot, wet, and impossibly tight, like a mouth crafted by some primal god to drive him insane. Each pulse of its petals sent a jolt of pleasure through his cock, the sensitive head throbbing as the tentacle’s slick interior stroked and squeezed, pulling at his very core. His hips bucked involuntarily, his powerful thighs flexing, the muscles rippling under his sun-kissed skin. The sensation was overwhelming, a white-hot fire that consumed his entire being, his balls aching with the need to explode. “Fuck… oh, God… don’t stop…” he groaned, his voice a low, gravelly plea, thick with lust and desperation.
But then, with agonizing slowness, the tulip-head began to retreat. Its petals slid up his shaft, inch by torturous inch, the wet, sucking warmth peeling away from his cockhead, leaving a trail of slickness that cooled in the jungle air. Ethan’s eyes snapped open, his breath hitching as the tentacle released him completely with a soft, wet pop. His cock slapped back against his abs, the head swollen and glistening, a bead of precum dripping down the ridges of his five-pack. A wave of frustration crashed through him, his body trembling with unfulfilled need. He’d been so close—on the verge of the deepest, most earth-shattering blowjob of his life—and now he was left hanging, his cock throbbing painfully, his balls tight and aching. “What the fuck…” he growled, his voice rough with irritation, his chiseled jaw tightening as he glared down at the tentacle. His pecs flexed, his abs clenching as he tugged against the vines binding his wrists, the muscles in his arms bulging with the effort.
The large tulip-head tentacle hovered for a moment, its glistening petals shimmering in the dim light, as if mocking him. Then, with a deliberate, teasing slowness, it dipped lower, its petal-lips brushing against his heavy balls. Ethan’s breath caught, a mix of relief and renewed arousal flooding his senses. The tentacle kissed his balls, its warm, wet surface caressing them with a gentleness that sent a shiver up his spine. Then, in a single, breathtaking moment, it engulfed them entirely, sucking them into its juicy, pulsing interior. The sensation was electric—hot, tight, and so fucking intense it made his head spin. The tulip-head rolled his balls gently, its petals massaging them with a rhythmic, sucking pressure that felt like a lover’s mouth, warm and eager, drawing out pleasure so deep it made his toes curl. Ethan’s moans returned, louder now, his voice a raw, primal growl as his body arched against the tree. “Fuck, yes… oh, shit… that’s it…” he panted, his hips bucking, his cock twitching against his abs, leaking a steady stream of precum that coated his chiseled stomach in a musky, sweet sheen.
The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave that crashed through every nerve in his body. His balls throbbed in the tentacle’s tight, wet embrace, each suck sending a jolt of ecstasy straight to his core. His pecs flexed, the smaller tulip-tentacles still sucking his nipples with relentless precision, their warm, pulsing mouths keeping his chest alight with sensation. His abs clenched, the ridges rippling as the pleasure built, his entire body a taut bow of muscle and desire. For a fleeting moment, he was back in ecstasy, his mind consumed by the thought that this—this—was what he’d been craving, even if he’d never admitted it.
But then, just as he felt himself hurtling toward the edge again, the tentacle released his balls with another wet pop. Ethan’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and frustration flashing across his rugged face. “No, fuck, come on!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the jungle, his tone a mix of desperation and command. His cock throbbed, his balls aching, his body screaming for release. “Get back here, damn it! Finish me off!” he growled, his deep voice carrying a cocky edge, as if the tentacle could understand him—or maybe it could, who the fuck knew in this crazy-ass dream? His biceps flexed, his wrists straining against the vines, his abs tightening as he glared at the tentacle, his green eyes blazing with need.
The tulip-head seemed to pause, its petals quivering as if considering his words. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, it moved again, its petal-lips brushing just below his balls, kissing the sensitive skin of his taint. Ethan’s breath hitched, a mix of surprise and unexpected pleasure flooding his senses. The sensation was new, strange, and undeniably hot—a warm, wet caress that sent a shiver through his massive thighs. “Oh… shit…” he muttered, his voice softer now, a mix of curiosity and arousal. It felt good, different but good, the tentacle’s soft, juicy lips teasing a spot he’d never even thought about. His cock twitched, still aching for attention, but the new sensation was intriguing, a spark of pleasure that made him wonder just how far this could go.
The tentacle didn’t stop. It slid lower, its petal-lips tracing a slow, deliberate path, licking every inch with a tenderness that made Ethan’s body tremble. His heart pounded, his pecs heaving, his abs flexing as the tentacle ventured into forbidden territory. It reached the tight, untouched ring of his hole, its warm, slick surface brushing against it with a gentle, teasing caress. Ethan’s eyes widened, a jolt of shock cutting through the haze of pleasure. “Hey, what the fuck!” he shouted, his voice a mix of alarm and indignation, his straight-jock instincts kicking in. His thighs tensed, his massive quads bulging as he tried to shift away, but the tentacles binding his wrists and ankles held him firm, his body pinned against the tree. His cock, still rock-hard and leaking, slapped against his abs, betraying the arousal he couldn’t deny.
The tulip-head didn’t care. It licked again, its petals gliding over his hole with agonizing slowness, the sensation warm, wet, and so fucking intense it made his head spin. Each lick was deliberate, the tentacle’s juicy interior exploring every sensitive nerve, sending sparks of pleasure through his body that he didn’t know were possible. Ethan’s moans returned, softer now, tinged with confusion and reluctant delight. His balls ached, his cock throbbed, and his mind reeled as the tentacle continued its tender assault, pushing him into a realm of sensation he’d never imagined. His body was a live wire, every muscle taut, every nerve alight with a mix of shock, arousal, and a burning curiosity that made his heart race.
The large tulip-head tentacle was teasing his tight, untouched hole, its petal-lips gliding over the sensitive ring with warm, slick licks that sent shivers of reluctant pleasure through him. Each caress was deliberate, the juicy interior igniting nerves he’d never explored, making his cock throb and his heart pound. But as the tentacle paused, its glistening petals quivering, it pressed closer, the thick, bulbous tip nudging right against his tightly clenched hole. Ethan’s eyes widened, a surge of panic crashing through him. “No fuckin’ way…” he growled, his deep voice raw with alarm, his straight-jock instincts kicking into overdrive. This was too far, too much—his body was his temple, and this was a line he’d never crossed. His mind screamed to fight, to get free, to stop this before it went any further.
He yanked against the tentacles binding his wrists, his biceps flexing hard, the muscles swelling as he poured every ounce of his rugby-honed strength into breaking free. His shoulders rolled, his pecs tightening, the veins in his forearms bulging like steel cables as he twisted and pulled. “Get off me, damn it!” he roared, his voice echoing through the jungle, a mix of fury and desperation. But the vines held him in a dead grip, their smooth, cool surfaces tightening around his wrists like living iron, unyielding and merciless. His struggles only made his body shift, his hips bucking, his abs clenching, exposing his hole further to the massive tulip-head waiting below. Each movement made him more vulnerable, his resistance turning him into an easier target for the tentacle’s inevitable invasion.
“Fuck… no…” he panted, his voice cracking, his green eyes flashing with a mix of fear and defiance. He kicked against the vines at his ankles, his massive thighs flexing, the muscles rippling under his bronzed skin, but the tentacles held firm, pinning him against the rough bark of the tree. His heart pounded like a drum, his chest heaving, his nipples throbbing harder under the smaller tentacles’ relentless sucking. The tulip-tentacles on his nipples pulsed faster, their warm, juicy mouths drawing out sharp, electric pleasure that clashed with his panic, making his cock twitch and leak, the musky precum coating his chiseled abs in a glistening sheen. The sensation was maddening, a cruel mix of pleasure and restraint that left him torn between fighting and surrendering.
Then, a new massive tulip-head tentacle emerged, its petals shimmering as it slithered toward his heavy, aching balls. Ethan’s breath hitched, his eyes flicking down as its petal-lips brushed against his balls, kissing them with a soft, wet caress that sent a shiver through his core. “Oh, shit…” he muttered, his voice softer now, tinged with reluctant arousal. The tentacle engulfed his balls entirely, sucking them into its hot, juicy interior with a tight, pulsing pressure that felt like a lover’s mouth worshipping him. The sensation was pure fire—warm, wet, and so intense it made his hips buck, his cock slapping against his abs. The tentacle rolled his balls gently, each suck sending a wave of ecstasy crashing through him, amplifying the chaos in his mind.
The large tulip-head at his hole quivered, its petals parting to release a thick, warm stream of slick, syrupy lube that coated his tight ring, soothing and teasing all at once. The lube was hot, almost too hot, its viscous texture clinging to his skin, making every nerve tingle with heightened sensitivity. Ethan’s body tensed, his abs clenching, his thighs trembling as the tentacle pressed forward, its thick, bulbous tip pushing against his lubed hole with slow, deliberate insistence. “No… fuck, no…” he growled, his voice a mix of defiance and desperation, but his struggles only made his hole relax slightly, betraying him as the tentacle seized the moment.
With agonizing slowness, the tulip-head slipped past his tight ring, the thick, slick tip stretching him open with a deep, burning fullness that stole his breath. Ethan’s eyes rolled back, a raw, guttural moan tearing from his throat as the sensation hit—a molten, overwhelming mix of pressure and pleasure that rocked his entire body. The tentacle’s interior was soft, juicy, and impossibly warm, like a velvet glove, but its size—thick and commanding—filled him in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. The stretch was intense, a fiery burn that made his abs clench, his pecs flex, his biceps strain against the vines as he fought to process the feeling. “Fuck… it’s too much…” he gasped, his voice raw, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.
But the pleasure was undeniable, a deep, primal ecstasy that radiated from his core, igniting nerves he didn’t know existed. The tentacle pushed deeper, its petals pulsing gently, massaging his inner walls with a rhythmic, almost loving caress that sent sparks of pleasure through his entire being. Each inch it claimed felt like fire, like lightning, a hot, throbbing presence that stretched him wider, deeper, hitting a spot inside him that made his cock jump and his balls ache in the new tentacle’s sucking embrace. His moans grew louder, a mix of shock, resistance, and reluctant surrender, his voice echoing through the jungle. “Goddamn… what the fuck… it’s so… fucking… good…” he panted, his chiseled jaw slack, his green eyes half-lidded with a lust he couldn’t fight.
The smaller tulip-tentacles on his nipples sucked harder, their warm, wet mouths pulsing in perfect sync with the tentacle in his hole, creating a symphony of sensation that consumed him. His pecs throbbed, the swollen peaks so sensitive they felt like live wires, each suck sending a jolt straight to his cock, making it leak a steady stream of precum that coated his abs in a musky, sweet sheen. The tentacle on his balls was relentless, its juicy interior rolling and squeezing, the hot, tight suction driving him wild. His thighs trembled, his quads bulging, his body a taut bow of muscle and desire as the pleasure built, a tidal wave that threatened to drown him.
The tentacle in his hole began to move, a slow, rhythmic thrust that stretched him further, each motion a perfect blend of pressure and pleasure. The thick lube eased its path, but the fullness was overwhelming, a deep, molten ecstasy that made his entire body shake. It hit that spot inside him again and again, sending explosions of pleasure through his core, making his cock twitch, his balls throb, his abs clench with every wave. Ethan’s struggles faded, his resistance crumbling under the weight of this primal, otherworldly pleasure. His body was a furnace, every nerve alight with sensation, his mind a haze of shock, fear, and undeniable ecstasy. “Fuck… I can’t… it’s too good…” he groaned, his voice a raw, desperate plea, his body surrendering to the tentacles as they pushed him deeper into a pleasure so intense it felt like it might break him.
Ethan’s mind was a haze of raw, primal need, his straight-jock bravado shattered by the overwhelming pleasure consuming him. The tentacle in his hole moved faster now, its juicy, velvet interior pulsing harder, each thrust hitting that electric spot deep inside him with unrelenting precision, sending sparks of white-hot pleasure through every nerve. The thick, warm lube coated his inner walls, amplifying every sensation, making the stretch feel like a fiery, sensual embrace that pushed him closer to the edge. His cock throbbed painfully, untouched but swollen, the head flushed a deep red, leaking precum in a steady stream that dripped down his chiseled abs, filling the air with his musky scent. The smaller tentacles on his nipples sucked with ferocious intensity, their warm, plush mouths pulsing in perfect sync with the thrusts in his hole, each pull a sharp, electric jolt that made his pecs flex and his moans grow louder, his deep voice a raw, desperate growl echoing through the jungle. The tentacle on his balls squeezed tighter, its juicy petals rolling and sucking with a hot, wet pressure that felt like a lover’s mouth worshipping him, drawing out pleasure so intense his vision blurred. “Fuck… oh, God… I can’t… it’s too fuckin’ good…” he panted, his chiseled jaw slack, his green eyes rolling back as his open mouth let out a stream of guttural moans, his body surrendering completely to the ecstasy.
The pleasure built to a fever pitch, a tidal wave of sensation that crashed through him, his body a live wire of muscle and desire. The tentacle in his hole thrust deeper, faster, its petals pulsing with a rhythmic force that massaged his inner walls, hitting that spot with every stroke, sending explosions of pleasure through his core. His balls tightened in the sucking embrace of the second tentacle, the hot, juicy suction pushing him to the brink. His abs clenched, the ridges rippling as his cock twitched violently, the head throbbing with need. “Fuck… I’m gonna… oh, shit…” he groaned, his voice breaking, his mouth open wide in a primal roar as the pleasure overwhelmed him. With a final, earth-shattering thrust from the tentacle in his hole, Ethan’s body convulsed, his muscles flexing, his thighs trembling, his pecs heaving as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted from his cock, shooting upward with such force that they splattered across his chiseled chest, coating his throbbing pecs and dripping down the deep grooves of his five-pack abs. One powerful jet hit his open, moaning mouth, the warm, salty taste flooding his senses, mingling with his gasps as he licked his lips instinctively, his body still shaking with the intensity of his climax. The musky scent of his release filled the air, mixing with the earthy jungle aroma, as his cum glistened on his bronzed skin, a testament to the raw, primal ecstasy that had consumed him. His moans softened to breathless whimpers, his body trembling, his cock still twitching as the tentacles held him tight, milking every last drop of pleasure from his sculpted, sweat-soaked frame.
Ethan Kane’s 6’2” rugby-god body jolted awake, his green eyes snapping open as he gasped for air, his chiseled chest heaving under the faint moonlight streaming through his bedroom window. The humid jungle, the sinuous tentacles, the overwhelming ecstasy—it all dissolved like mist, leaving him sprawled across his tangled sheets, his heart pounding like a drum in his massive pecs. His bronzed skin glistened with sweat, every inch of his sculpted frame tingling with the aftershocks of the most vivid, primal dream he’d ever had. His broad shoulders, thick with muscle, pressed into the mattress, his biceps still flexed as if straining against those emerald-green vines. His five-pack abs, carved like marble, rippled with each ragged breath, slick with a warm, sticky sheen that made his skin prickle. His thighs, massive pillars of power, twitched restlessly, his quads bulging under the sheets as he tried to ground himself in reality.
But something was off. Ethan’s breath caught as he realized his black boxer briefs were gone, the cool air kissing his bare skin where the tight fabric should’ve been. His eight-inch cock, still rock-hard and throbbing, stood proud against his abs, the swollen head glistening with a bead of precum that dripped onto the chiseled ridges of his stomach. His heavy balls ached, full and sensitive, as if the dream’s relentless teasing had followed him into the waking world. He glanced down, his green eyes widening as he saw his chest and abs coated in thick, warm ropes of his own cum, the musky scent filling his nostrils, potent and intoxicating. The sticky release clung to his pecs, dripping down the deep grooves between his abs, pooling in the sharp V of his Adonis belt, a testament to the explosive climax that had felt so real. His nipples, still swollen and sensitive, tingled as if those tulip-tentacles were still sucking them, sending a faint jolt of pleasure through his core.
“Fuck… what the hell…” Ethan muttered, his deep voice rough with disbelief, his chiseled jaw clenching as he tried to make sense of it. His tongue darted out instinctively to wet his lips, and he froze, his heart skipping a beat as a thick, potent drop of his own cum touched his tongue. The taste was powerful, salty, and unmistakably his, a heady reminder of the dream’s raw intensity. His eyes fluttered, a shiver running through his massive frame as he realized the drop had landed on his face, smearing across his full lips during the throes of his dream-induced ecstasy. His cock twitched again, still hard, still aching, as if the jungle’s tentacles had left a permanent mark on his body and mind. Ethan lay there, his sweat-soaked body trembling, his mind reeling with the realization that the dream had been more than just a fantasy—it had awakened something deep, wild, and undeniable within him.
