"...and hug me, you silly treehugger," said Ian affectionately.
Dan, still in awe, stepped forward and placed a hand on one of Ian's massive legs. The 'skin' on his thigh was smooth like polished wood, but farther down on his shins it became more bark-like as it merged with his root-like feet. But even though Ian's body was wooden, it didn't feel cold or inanimate; it was warm and pulsing with life. Ian's statuesque torso, towering above, appeared carved of solid wood, but the bulges of wooden muscle moved like those of flesh and blood. The enormous wooden pole that jutted out below his carved 10-pack---just over Dan's head---was similarly alive, a pearl of amber sap growing at the end.
Dan reached up and grabbed it, his fingers unable to completely encircle it. He tried to pull himself up to get a better look, but his feet slipped on the smooth wooden skin of Ian's upper leg.
Ian smiled and brought down one of his arm-branches, wooden biceps flexing, and cradled Dan in the soft green shoots of his hand, lifting Dan effortless to be level with Ian's torso. Dan reached out again and rubbed his hand across the smooth expanse of Ian's wooden pecs, while staring into Ian's deep, mysteriously glowing eyes with wonder.