Must... not succumb... must get money from my former self's room

The temptation to either light up or dildo yourself silly is nearly overwhelming, but with a supreme effort of will you turn yourself away.

"Later," you promise yourself, certain a silly grin must be spread across your face.

You're about to resume the search when you remember a sure source of money. Your room. Or rather, your former room. Unless of course this is permanent, in which case... you shake your head, feeling like you're getting confused by the issue.

Pushing into your nerdy room you look around, surprised that it doesn't seem all that different from normal. Other than that funky smell. How come you never noticed it before, and what is it? Socks? Sweat? Something else?

Wrinkling your apparently sensitive nose you creep cautiously forward as if someone will jump out at you to demand what you're doing. It's ridiculous, you know. After all, it's your room.

Still, you feel compelled to move around slowly and cautiously, feeling inordinately aroused by the thought that you're creeping around naked in here. That thought stops you, making you wonder why you forgot to put anything on.