I should talk to Amara.

You decide to go with Amara. Especially after your interaction with Flora, you didn’t want to further press your luck with her.

When you sit on the couch, Amara stirs and looks at you, somewhat confused-like. “Can I help you?”

“Just looking for ways to be useful.”

Amara smirks at you and then raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to fuck me now.” She closes her eyes and plops down

You scoff, unintentionally letting your eyes drift over her long legs and tight stomach, shaped by her black shirt. You never had a chance to really appreciate her physique until just now. She is actually quite fit. Your eyes wandered up beyond her stomach and then fixated on her tits - plump, round, a little larger than Flora’s bust, definitely perkier.

Amara adjusted herself and stretched her legs over your lap, surprising you enough that you had to fight the jolt that shot through your body.

She then arches her back and outstretches her arms, moaning as loudly as she can before smacking her lips together. Her eyes haven’t opened since she first regarded you, but you’re still somewhat nervous to be staring at her. She lifts one eye open and peers at you. “What do you think?”

“About that?” You sweat.

Amara can’t fight the toothy grins that form her mouth. “I feel you eye-fucking me right now. I just wanna hear from you…what do you think…of me…?”

She props herself up on her elbows. Then, before you can react, she notices you staring at her breasts. She scoffs in response to this and brushes back her dark hair. “Honestly, Amara. I didn’t intend to, but I’ve been eyeing you up and down ever since I sat down. You’re kind of gorgeous.”

Someplace in the background, you hear the shower starting. Amara hears this too and looks back where Flora had gone. “Well,” she mumbles before turning to face you. “I haven’t been laid in months, and you aren’t that ugly.”

“Ha,” you **** back some words. Amara lays back down and stretches again, putting herself out on display in her tapered jeans and black shirt. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Warren,” Amara says, not bothering to look at you. “Do you want to fuck?”