Amy is somewhat fixated

Amy's gaze lingers down at the hem of your kilt. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" Amy asks cryptically.

You're a little worried: you don't know exactly how Amy is meant to act in this world, but she wasn't exactly interested in you sexually before, and her question sounds heavy with subtext. Is she annoyed?

"Um, I was just admiring your erotic art," you say, this seeming safe enough given that it was on display.

Amy's face warms slightly. "Stirring up the sacred flame? I'm grateful. Chloe will be over in just a minute, and Elizabeth will be here in about an hour. I'm so lucky to have you living next door, John: your generosity and ardor always keep me inspired." She smiles girlishly at you. "I look forward to showing you how inspired in a moment or two."

Er, okay. "Do you mind if I sit down?" you ask.

"Sure!" says Amy. "Just sit here," she gestures you towards a chair.

You sit down, and then you realise a practical problem with this situation: you kilt is short enough that it doesn't want to cover your crotch much when you're horny and when you sit down. You're fairly sure that your balls and some of your shaft are on display. "Oops, sorry!"

Amy's eyes are squarely on your crotch. "Sorry for what?" she says. You are about to reply when you notice the fixed way in which she's staring, enrapt. It occurs to you that maybe Amy is genuinely fine with your junk being on display. You imagine how you might feel if she had casually sat down before in a way which left her pussy on display, and wonder if she feels the same.

There is a knock at the door, and Amy snaps to. "Chloe!" she says, quickly hopping to the door.