She abandoned that idea. As a simple trophy she could smoke dry it or mummify it, but it would be unimpressive. Or she could find a large enough carbo... or flask to contain it and pickle it in alcohol. It would still be limp of course, and it would waste an awful lot of vodka. A thought popped into her head. Would there be a market for Death-claw penis infused vodka? Maybe she could sell that as an aphrodisiac or cure for impotence. She had seen several strange market stalls that sold peculiar. .. Oh. Whew," and so help me, I believed it, the way she shuddered that last part out, rocking her hips again a little bit as she said it. I started strangling on my lust again. "But I haven't really been uh.. honest with you about Sabrina and all of this, and I guess you should know some stuff before you go and get us that room," her eyes cast down again, her mouth back into that adorable pout, and then more quietly, looking back away, "I really don't want to fuck this up. Um-- first of. More

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