You somehow manage to fall directly into the open space beetween this dino's scales and his waist band only to be brought to an abrupt halt as you're forced to a stop between his scaley cheeks. In other circumstances the shift in atmosphere might have been enough to occupy your attention. Having to breathe in the hot, musk ridden, sweat scented air of this guy's shorts was far from easy or pleasant. But you had much bigger things to worry about. What happens next stretches out in slow motion for you ad yet there's nothing you can do to stop it. The rex dips down for his next squat, cheeks parting enough to release you. Just as gravity is beginning to reclaim its hold on you the big guy thrusts back upwards and the force of it throws you hard, directly up and into his tailhole. He doesn't even notice, save for a minor itch that's banished by a single, instinctive clench.
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