(Involves horsecocks, futa, the Party Girl, the Steampunker and literal cocksocks from the player's perspective)

Trixy, the Party Girl, has arrived!

	The Party Girl had heard of this village. "1.3.2.1." A peculiar name, sure, but she's seen weirder in Terraria. Nonetheless, it was said it had enough of a population and even housed a courageous adventurer girl, going off every day to fight baddies and monsters and all kind of creepy crawly things. She arrived at dawn, looking over the settlement from atop a tall hill with child-like glee. Yet, as she merrily bounced down the hillside, something extra bounced along between her thighs...


	7 Angler quests later...
	You passed by the Tax Collector's for your daily dosage of shekels when you realized you were all out of teleporters for your fancy new restaurant, complete with a basement and everything. But, when you arrive at the Steampunker's library you see an empty chair and a table devoid of any cogs or other machinery. On the way out, you spot the newly arrived Party Girl from across the hall, in her provisional room with nothing but a few balloons strewn about. She didn't settle in too much, did she? She waves at you, then sits down to some kind of rubbery thing with the texture of a balloon. But something seems odd.
	The Party Girl wears thigh-high stockings the color of lemon and mint icecream, short little boots, a light, long-sleeved sweater that keeps her breasts and wide hips snug and a very short pink skirt that now has its front flipped over and back, revealing something quite unexpected about the Party Girl. She's got a cock. A horse cock.

	You see her entire flaccid horsecock on full display, half-sheathed, complete with a pair of pale yellow horseballs with pinks spots. They hang lazily down past the lip of a cheap wooden chair chair. Her partially visible flare twitches idly every few moments as she works on whatever balloon animal it might be. And then, completely oblivious to you, the Steampunker enters, chatting about the fucking weather of all things, leaning over the cheapass wooden table for support.
	The Steampunker's always been a bit more decent, never one for revealing clothing or kinky business, and her current posture didn't give hints of any. She comments something about the 'harvest' and the Dryad, shifts to the side and straightens up as she searches in her deep pockets for something. You see the Party Girl's knees touch in an arch, obscuring your view except for a bit underneath, and an... expectant look on her face? And then the Steampunker changes topic to - would you have guessed it - inflating balloons.
	You spot the flare twitch up once in response, pressing against the underside of her knees and seemingly winking right at you. But it grows, extending forward as the Party Girl chats on happily. It's almost as if she had some kind of weird kink for balloons. It'd make sense. It would explain the strange stains on the inside of some. She's been hanging them up everywhere, damnit. This warrants a thorough investigation.
	The cock extended a few inches beyond the Party Girl's knees before she started grinding them together back and forth, rubbing a good length of her shaft and causing the flare to nod at you from side to side. The Steampunker seems like she's found what she's looking for, and you see her pull out a balloon animal- no, it's not an animal at all. It's a condom; a huge one. You remember that the Steampunker was experimenting with vulcanization recently. She may or may not have an entire petrochemical industry under her storage room. A huge, pink balloon-like condom that could easily fit over most of your entire arm flaps onto the table. It has a strange tip, wavy and bulbous, just like the Party Girl's flare. There's a protrusion at its tip which seems a little too thick.

	The Steampunker crouches down, her frock touching the ground as she reaches under the table with condom in hand. Her breasts press against the table as one of her hands seems to find its mark. Well, you assume it does - you can't see a damn - from how the Party Girl gently bites at her lower lip and clenches her fists as the Steampunker does... something. Finally, after a long while of trying and grunting, the Steampunker stands up and steps away, giving you the full glory view of her rubberized artistry.
	You can see that the condom matches the Party Girl *exactly*, except maybe in length. The arm-length, red condom is not quite enough, but only by an inch. Otherwise, the Steampunker has accounted for everything - the flare's every nub and protrusion, the medial ring, even the much wider prepuce. It just doesn't reach all the way to the base.
	The Party Girl uses both her hands - one would definitely not be enough, heck, two push it - to pull up the lip the rest of the way, and you see her flare stretching and bending against the thick rubber in failure. She brings up the issue with the Steampunker, blushing, as she sits up a little, her cute little butt shifting on the narrow chair as she pulls something out from a back pocket - a sock, sharing a color scheme with her thigh-highs. Two feet of sock, woolen and thick with holes at both ends. Wait, how would that be useful at all? The Party Girl rubs her hands together at the Steampunker, and the Victorian gal shakes her head as she giggles at the Party Girl's request. She takes the sock from the Party Girl and crouches for the second time, her hands once again aiming under the table. She has to lean in under the table this time, top hat barely staying on her head as she bumps against the edge. Moments later, she crawls back out but stays crouched, admiring the entire length as it twitches a little from all the recent care. The sock is smaller than the condom, leaving the wide head out in the open and mostly just covering the middle length.
	The Party Girl reminds the Steampunker of something related to melons as she stands back up, nodding. You see the Party Girl passing a little bag along the table, one which the Steampunker pockets before the Party Girl waves the Steampunker off with a big, big smile.

	You have an idea who's gonna get that new house.