He's still soft.

Her tentacles tensed up, becoming thick and rigid. Thousands upon thousands of tiny bumps rising on their surface, bristling with aggravated energy.

Bending impossibly at the waist, she brought her face almost directly in front of his, her alien stare boring straight through him. "What is the matter, my love?" she asked, with a miniscule twitch at her lip and an edge in her voice that was colder than the coldest winter that Wiglaf had ever lived through. "Do you not desire me anymore?"

Her clawed grip was starting to tighten on his head, and all it would take was an errant twitch from him, for them to pierce his skin. But, with his movement restrained, Wiglaf could only answer with his eyes. He flicked them side-to-side, hoping to give her the answer she wanted.

The creature's mate tilted her head sideways, much like a hawk would when trying to determine if what was before it was worth keeping alive. "You do not what? Desire me?" she repeated, her voice becoming high, shrill, and accusatory. "Does that mean you hate me now?"

Were this any other time, Wiglaf would roll his eyes at yet another woman misinterpreting his answer for something completely different and getting angry over her own misunderstanding. But as the stinging at his head grew worse, and the tentacle constricting around his throat restricting his ability to breathe, he decided against his typical response.

With the small amount of movement he had with them, he swapped his hands from holding onto her thighs to her hips and pulled her forwards towards his mouth. His lips and tongue then lashed even more violently and wildly against her slit, in a desperate attempt to appease, or at least distract her, while willing himself to find a way to send blood south.

A shuddering gasp, trembling legs, claws freeing themselves from his head, and a face pulling away, told him that the first part of his idea was working. Tiny splinters and dust rained down on him as claws raked against a log and the wall next to them. "Oh yes..." she cooed, happily shivering on him. "I should not have been worried. I knew that you still wanted me..."

A cold, clammy, sticky thing wriggling on his stomach almost broke his concentration. It slithered it's way down, almost tickling his groin as it wormed towards it's target. A deep shiver, the one that all men shared when their manhood is under threat, ran right through him as it crawled closer and closer.

Reaching it's goal, the tentacle coiled itself around his still mostly limp cock. It slid up and down it's length, squeezing and releasing it, with varying levels of strength, gently coaxing it firm. A soft understanding smile appeared above him. "It is alright, my love, I understand," she said, moving some hair away from his face so that she could see him better. "Your love for me is too much for your body to keep up."

A second tendril snaked it's way up his leg. This one seemed happy enough to encircle both his cock and his balls around his root. Taking them all in it's grip, it planted itself upon his groin and just held them firmly, applying the right amount of pressure to make him even more aware of what was happening to him.

A third wrapped itself around his now half-hard cock. The pair both worked with each other, focusing on a half section each, wringing and twisting on his shaft, changing their speed and strength, their many little domes latching and releasing, like tiny kisses, constantly subjecting him to different sensations.

Despite himself, a low moan escaped from his throat, and the creature's mate's smile widened. "So that is what it was. All you were missing was my touch," she chuckled.