Anus: The Muskening

The spelunk is ACTUALLY beginning this time

It was a humid summer evening when I finally made the life-altering decision to confront Elon about my growing desperation to spelunk deep within his internal caverns. He was lounging in his ergonomic multidimensional tesla brand swivel chair, glass of motor oil swirling in his hand, with his musky dusky purple eyes fixed fixatedly upon the glimmering scales of his Martian Birkenstocks. I held a weighted platinum spanner in my sweaty paw, obscured within my dressing gown sleeve. If the spelunking were put off any longer I knew that this intense carnal yearning within my ass cheeks would consume me entirely.
"Elon?" I called seductively from the space dungeon doorway.
Elon raised his gaze from his intergalactic White Dad Shopping In Wholefoods™ Sandals, a look of confusion and arousal mingled on his furrowed brow.
"Yes, my sexy little space kitten?"
"Elon, I must speak with you about an extremely pressing issue." My armpits were getting soggy from the tension. Elon's intense gaze, like that of a horny old woman reading a Jamie Oliver fanfiction by wattpad user @Willyworld, was causing my sphincter to fluctuate wildly. "I want to engage in the spelunk," I continued, "and I want to do it right now."
Elon rose to his gigantic feet. He towered 12 ft high above my puny head. My life flashed before my eyes, images of hentai and Teslas flickering ominously through my cerebellum. This is it, I thought. He's going to spank me to death.
But instead, the Musk Man engaged in a physical gesture which utterly bewildered me to my very core. He turned away from me, facing the gigantrous Velux window with a view of the rings of Saturn, and pulled down his sparkly leopard print cycling shorts. Beneath the shorts lay a vision of a world beyond my mortal comprehension. I still struggle to express in any human lexicon the crystalline delights which roamed untouched between the pearlescent planes of his bulbous ass cheeks. The weighted spanner in my sweaty palm slipped from my fingers in shock, but Elon heard nothing over the gentle roar of the waterfalls within his colon.
"Now, my little princess, normally I would enforce spelunkers to wear a full-body condom when they explore my caverns. But for you, I have something extra special in mind. Go over to the Multidimensional Octahedronal Clothing Storage Unit in the corner and place your foot on the toe recognition plate."
I did as I was told, like a good girl, slathering my slender toes against the fungal growth of the toe recognition plate until I heard the storage unit slide open. Inside, in a haze of neon light and dry ice, lay the one thing in this plane of existence which I truly dreaded.
It was Elon's fursuit.
I glanced back at Elon, who was still squatting on the custom made Mars-rock flooring with his cavernous asshole emitting a beam of soft green light. He eyed the fursuit with hungry desperation, and I knew what I had to do. In a matter of painful seconds, my jorts were on the floor and I was deep within the bowels of Elon Musk's fursuit. With my feet itchy, my jorts discarded and an ever-growing bulge in my leopard print mankini, I advanced forwards, taking my first shaky steps into Elon's asshole. It was time for the spelunking to finally begin.