I'm trying to write something for everybody (just in case you have a kink for a character), but some of them are hard to not make gross.
Swinheart had always known Baba Yaga had a thing for animal people. He'd never really thought about it too hard because it was a little bit disturbing, but there'd been that thing with Canis right after he turned back into a person, and her three guardians who might spend most of their time as animals but definitely moonlighted as hunky dudes.
Still, he'd never really thought about it all that much. He'd tried really hard not to, actually, because she was old and gross. It was just one of those things that everyone in Ferryport Landing who was in on things knew about.
But when he had to visit her for a renewal of his glamour (he'd been slipping back into pig form more often than he ought to have been, and he was worried that eventually it might stick, and he'd end up in a meat packing plant heading for disaster) and found, not Baba Yaga, but a beautiful woman wearing a dress that shone like stars, one who spoke with a voice he knew well, yelling at him for interrupting her soap operas, he found himself very interested in the fact that this woman liked people like him.
He slid into the house despite her protests, and she grumbled under her breath but didn't stop him. All she did was ask, "What do you want?"
His glamour chose that convenient minute to slip, and once he'd finished struggling to get himself back into a reasonably human form, he said, "That. I want it fixed."
The woman who was supposed to be old laughed at him and said, "Let me have a look, pig."
He did.
It wasn't very fun. She kept poking him in uncomfortable places, prodding him and muttering under her breath. He got a number of views down her low-cut dress, and he found himself getting more and more uncomfortable. He wasn't used to Baba Yaga being attractive. He wasn't supposed to want the most dangerous woman in town.
But then again, he wasn't supposed to be a six hundred year-old pig/man, either, so who was to say what was right?
Her chest was in his face again. He couldn't resist. His lips were pressed against her skin before he could stop himself.
She didn't push him away or get angry or anything like that. She just laughed and said, in her incongruously scratchy voice, "Took you long enough."
So Boarman kept kissing her. He pressed his lips further down her chest, against that soft, smooth skin, and then once he reached her hemline, he worked his way back up, and he went to work leaving his mark on her neck, then on her ear, before she turned her head and pressed her lips to his, forcing her tongue into his mouth.
Oh God she was so hot.
And he'd never thought he'd think that about her. Ever.
But that didn't stop him.
They continued to make out like teenagers (hot, messy, and desperate) for minutes, and then Boarman reached for the back of her dress, trying to get her out of it. He wanted to see how that enchantment made her look elsewhere.
She stopped him, though. "It's the dress," she said, and she sounded a bit embarrassed (could she get embarrassed?). "It's what makes me look like this."
He shrugged. "I'll work around it, then," he said, and he worked his hands underneath her enormous skirt. At least she wasn't wearing pants.
She laughed again and said, "There's no reason you can't be naked, though."
Today was turning out much better than he'd expected.