You stumble along on the white marble.

You stumble along, barefoot on the cold white marble. Despite this cold floor and the fact you are completely alone, you have a warmness surrounding you, like you’re enveloped by good feelings. Like you’re meant to be here. Like everything is alright in the world. Like you haven’t spent the last couple hours being dead on an imaginary adventure involving **** blowjobs and spit wads getting regurgitated on your cock.

The warm feeling could be a byproduct of the fact that your ballsack is producing sperm at an unnatural rate that would surely cause some type of testicular cancer in the real world. In this world, it only infuses your mind with a ridiculous amount of testosterone and confidence.

Luckily you can’t get testicular cancer here.

At least, it seems like Kristi would have mentioned that. Maybe she was not done talking when you… skull-fucked her face? Is there an expiration date on Blowjob Universe? Perhaps a countdown clock tattooed on your forearm or something? Eh…. This isn’t Jumanji.

You walk a little bit faster. Having both your balls and bladder full makes for a bad combination.

The fast pace puts you past the gates completely. You have exited what is surely one of the most unbelievable wonders of the infinite universe, and the only thing you can think about is expelling the jizz and piss in your body. God, you are disgusting. What the fuck is wrong with you. You veer off on your right, going towards one side of the giant wall.

You can’t take it anymore. Nothing matters but the insatiable urge below your gut. Everything becomes hazy. Does this place have a visitor center?

Looking to your right, there appears to be a patio connecting to a doorway in the wall. Above the doorway is a sign that reads “STABLES.” You hear movement and laughter on the other side.