Crest looked down at himself, across the broad planes of his muscular chest with dark, perky nipples down toward the monstrosity that more resembled a Sand Worm from Dune than an actual penis and cocked his head to the side. He looked back up at her quizzically.<br/><br/>“Me need clothes. Hammock. Cover. Does that help empty balls?” He gestured toward the nearly proportional balls hanging on either side of the thing-that-shall-not-be-mentioned. The hairy things were, somehow, not banging together like footballs – perhaps magic had facilitated such impossibilities.<br/><br/>He stepped closer, until he was near enough to kiss, his musky odor incredibly pleasant – an aphrodisiac, or simply the pungent prospect of him was enough to destroy brain cells at roughly the same speed as someone mainlining Drain-O directly into their brain – “Me want make happy. You show. Me do. Me protect little one.” He smiled at her, showing lots of teeth and reached out to pet her head, clearly trying to calm her.<br/><br/>The fact that his motion brushed side with the meaty shaft of that thing…clearly was an afterthought to actually providing her with some sort of care. Nevertheless, the contact did happen, as electric and poignant as an impending bullet to the aforementioned brain. The feeling of him, velvet, squishy (he was soft) and sleek was, in some ways like cake – sweet, scrumptious, and enticing. Okay, maybe more like a cookie. On the other hand, it kind-of resembled a nuclear weapon too. At any moment, the launch sequence could threaten the world with disaster.<br/>