He glanced up, seeing where Isaac’s eyes were, and he could /feel/ the bloodflow, could /feel/ himself hardening again. He bit his lip. “God, you weren’t kidding,” he said. After a moment of curiosity, he jerked his mind away from that thought and struggled to remember. “I wished I was a guy,” he said slowly, “and now I am.” After another moment in silent contemplation of that sentence, he sat up properly, and tried to cup his hands over his groin.
As a method of modesty, it was a complete failure. The flesh was /so/ sensitive, any little brush made it twitch in interest. “How do you even deal with this?”