Geovan's Proposition: Chapter 3

Geovan’s Proposition: Chapter 3 by Pragmaton

Cyrus suddenly slapped his hand against Geovan's massive underbelly, barely causing a jiggle, but the sharp crack of sensation caused Geovan to gasp nonetheless.

"Quiet," Cyrus called up, a note of sternness in his voice. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He then began softly kissing the spot he slapped, sending shivers throughout the giant's body. He then ducked slightly, moving lower toward the shrine of power buried deep underneath, harshly squeezing and nibbling upon the flabby surface along the way.

Geovan breathed heavily, staring down between his massive, heaving breasts and over his mountainous girth toward the small mortal he could no longer see. The mortal he could still feel, who was slowly moving those harsh hands and forceful lips from his sensitive underbelly ever closer to his groin.

As a god, he was so used to taking charge when it came to mortals, though it had been a few hundred years before he had taken a concubine. He was not sure how he should feel about the concubine taking charge of HIM.

Geovan pondered this as he played along with this plot. Strangely enough, he decided that he did not consider these actions insolent or presumptive of Cyrus; he picked Cyrus for his natural affinity for both large bodies of water and even larger bodies of man. He knew this would be a far cry from the typical fling with any beautiful woman or man he had done in the past.

They would yearn for his warrior’s physique and naturally allowed him to lead the sexual repast, worshipping his body as he had his way with them.

This was different, however. Cyrus boldly led the charge, still worshipping Geovan's body, but in a commanding way that also ensured Geovan didn't have to lift a finger. Geovan mused this was probably the norm for mortal relationships where one person was quite larger than the other. With massive mortals, lethargy and low energy levels were to be expected and perhaps even celebrated in such relationships. He did not deny it felt nice to be treated like a gluttonous king, too big to pleasure himself, at the mercy of his concubine's will.

Geovan huffed, beads of sweat collecting on his brow, as Cyrus' masterful ministrations went lower and lower. Obviously, more research would have to be done about this mortal style of foreplay...he was letting this mortal take charge for research, of course... obviously! Obviously…

Cyrus could hear the panting of the giant above, could feel the quivers of excitement vibrating his flabby mass with every nibble and lick.

Using the muscular power of his not-unsubstantial legs, built from years of hard work from both boatmanship and swimming in unruly waters, Cyrus squatted slightly to heave his shoulders against part of the lowest hanging swell of belly fat covering the groin. What he saw was well worth the trek.

A swollen fatpad, bigger and more engorged than his friend Aegeus' hedonistic wallop of a gut, seemed to throb before him. The throbbing illusion was caused by an indent the size of a small chariot wheel, about three feet in diameter within the fatty mound. Surrounding it was a small forest of curly, reddish brown pubic hair, slick with musky sweat. Just within

the surface of the round indent was the pinkish, globular head of a cut, colossal cock, viscous clear pre freely bubbling from a foot-long slit. It throbbed, aching to be freed from its fleshy imprisonment, causing reverberations to the fat mound surrounding it with each meaty wobble.

Cyrus would help it along the way. Still bracing his back, neck and arm against the cascading underbelly, Cyrus used his other hand to gently touch the burbling cock head. He brushed barely a finger before he heard Geovan let out a shocked "Oohh!" as the titanic body jolted, causing the soft fat around him to jostle wildly. The cockhead, already massive, fattened suddenly, engorging with blood like a billowing sail, pushing forcefully into his hand. It poked out of the patpad by a foot, then further stimulated by Cyrus' full-handed touch, promptly inflated even more, shoving against Cyrus' chest, inadvertently slicking his hairless and toned body with pre.

Cyrus hugged the inhumanely huge member, as if bracing himself against the bulkhead of a ship, giving it a full-body massage. This elicited groans of pleasure from high above, as the cock throbbed against him, slicking him up even more. The giant shaft that exposed itself from Geovan's fatpad was a work of art. Cyrus could see why Geovan had some vanity hidden beneath all these layers of flab. Symmetrical patterns of webbed veins, hard as stone, ran up both sides of the shaft toward the hot-and-bothered mushroom tip. It was unnaturally perfect, as if the bodies of gods themselves were carved by an otherworldly sculptor, hesitant to mark the piece with idiosyncracies.

The heat of the sweaty pit increased as Cyrus picked up speed. The smell was heavy and deep, making him feel as dizzy as a humid summer's day out on the ocean, warm salty air invading every orifice of his body. The odor itself seemed to be filled with magic, as Cyrus could feel his mind being clouded with more and more lust, diamond-hard cock trying to stab that swollen balloon with every animalistic thrust. 

Cyrus let his legs go out as he draped his upper torso atop of the now-purplish glans, allowing the full weight of the underbelly to keep him pinned there. Keeping a small pocket of air in front of him, Cyrus stretched his hands out in the darkness and traced the edges of the cock's corona, while simultaneously keeping his own cock aligned with the giant slit, as he fucked it with abandon. The sensation of his cock penetrating an ungodly one, while being surrounded with so much beef, slowly being crushed by all that weight, built his impending orgasm to a fever pitch.

He screamed, feeling his pent-up, but diminutive seed, shoot several ropes into that abyssal cock. Geovan must have felt this, because he groaned happily above in unison with Cyrus' yells. Those happy groans slowly morphed into lustful grunts however, as Cyrus felt the cockhead began to throb even faster beneath him, just as his orgasm began petering out.

Then suddenly, without warning, Geovan's entire body began shaking. Geovan bellowed, as Cyrus felt his lower torso blasted away from the cockhead slit, a torrent of cum jettisoning into the pocket cave of lard. His body was still held in place atop of the glans, but his lower body rode the frequent blasts of ropey ejaculate, keeping him afloat. With no escape, the pocket of cum continued to build in that dank cave, as Geovan shot into his own soft, yet oppressively huge underbelly. As Geovan continued shooting this seemingly endless river of cum, the ejaculate pooled around his face. He could taste the salty brew, tingling on his tongue like a memory of swimming in the vast sea for the first time, allowing it to surround him.

Though it was pitch black, Cyrus began to see colors and spots dance before his eyes. For the second time that day, he felt like he was about to black out...