No, but don't worry about it.

“Actually, no. But don’t worry about—what is it?”

The girl has a staggered, dumbfounded expression on her face and isn't making eye contact, but she's definitely looking at something near your—oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Without following her gaze, without moving your eyes from hers, you become immediately aware that you're still fully erect: nine and a half thick inches straining hard against your typically comfortable jeans.

Fuck. How couldn't you notice that? What kind of zombified moron doesn't notice that? Moreover, how the hell do you get out of having invited a stranger into your home in view of your raging hardon? What's the escape plan for this?

She looks up, seeing you frozen, and smiles. It's a different smile than before, and the light of the sunrise on her face suddenly seems to engender a less-than-sunny feeling, its deep orange hue igniting her smile with an eerie intent. Everything begins to dim. You feel dizzy. Nauseated.

“Now,” she says, her voice like electric silk, “We will do this the hard way.”

Darkness.