It can't be that much further... there has to be an end to this place...

You have no idea if you're even heading the right way anymore - no matter which way you go, you seem to only wander deeper into the haze of drifting pollen. You wheeze weakly, feeling your head grow as heavy as clouded as the thick, hazy air... you almost trip over a root at your feet, making your cock bounce wildly against the fabric of your clothes. The pleasure throbbing through you makes you wince, breathing in even more spicy air.