"..."

"Well?" Amy demands, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I..." You start, searching your brain for something, anything.

"I can't.."

"You can't? You can't what? You can't explain? Is that what you're saying? That you can't explain?"

"Yes. I can't. It's complicated."

Amy gives you the sharpest scowl before she throws the dress at you, and turns to leave.

"Amy, please." You plead.

"Don't follow me."

She slams the door and walks away.

You stand there, naked, covered in cum, holding your ruined dress.

"Fuck." You think to yourself.

You fucked it.

You really fucked it this time.