Rob groaned. Climbing from hair to hair was exhausting. Each hair was like a slick nylon rope, his fingers barely touched his thumb. He was sweating profusely, and the damp flesh of his host, and cramped warm conditions of his or her crotch made it like working out in a sauna. He figured if he just kept traveling "west" as he thought of it, he'd hit either a cock and balls or a labia and vagina. Either way it would be a sensitive part of the body, and his host would eventually take a look. Rob figured he had a fifty-fifty chance, which was better than the odds he had when he played basketball with the size stealing Ty.