Probably

I push Tonya’s door open with a raised tray. She doesn’t look up at me from her bed. She sits against the headboard, watching a video on her phone with earbuds. She is wearing a white T-shirt, pink running shorts and cotton knee socks. I’m irritated at how cute she looks, cute enough that it makes me want to help her. And that just makes me mad at myself.

I walk it to her and set it over her lap. She looks up in surprise at the sudden appearance of a looming male figure. She jumps in place, staring up at me, wide-eyed. She thrusts her arms back the corners of the bed with locked elbows, her feet squirm in tiny useless circles, until she finally recognizes me. So damn helpless. I want to both help her and slap her. She regains control of herself and smiles in relief. “Jesus, Warren.” Then as her heart rate declines, she looks down at the gift I had presented to her.

The waffle before her is topped with whip cream in the crude shape of cock and balls with a red strawberry as the head. I told her mother that I’d be happy to serve Tonya as long as I could top it as I saw fit. So maybe I’m the one that made it weird.

“Breakfast is served, madam.”

She laughs out loud at the prank. I continued to stand next to the bed, attentively, like a butler. Tonya doesn’t really like to be the butt of jokes. And, sure enough, she turns it back on me. She purses her lips and holds the plate up to my groin, orienting it appropriately. She tilts her head in thoughtful appraisal. “Jeeves, I expected a little more from you.” She wrinkles her nose disapprovingly.

“Apologies, madam. We didn’t have a large enough waffle to make it to scale.”

“Do better next time.” She impaled the strawberry with her fork. I wince and my jaw hangs open in mock pain. She stares at me, squinting, and slowly puts the whole strawberry in her mouth, chewing with as much intimidation as her cute features can muster.

All jokes aside, what the fuck is happening? My cock is raging. Between her long, sexy, squirming, knee-socked legs... her hand under the plate holding up my simulated cock while she appraises it... constant eye contact while savoring the tip...

{if Edge > 90}I feel a spasm and know precum is dripping in my underwear.{endif}

She smiles at her perceived victory. She lowers the plate back to the tray and starts munching happily, blithely unaware of the throbbing cock a foot away from her that wants to smack the smile off her face.

I turn away from her and look around the room. I don’t think it’s changed much since high school. She still has white twinkle lights strung along her headboard and window. She has a couple unframed posters taped to the walls. She has a simple white desk for school work and her pc tower. It’s looking a few years out of date. Her open closet still looks pretty full despite expanding into the second bedroom. There are so many colors and shapes of fabric that I can’t make sense of it all. Below them are dozens of pairs of shoes. Near the front of them are some nice running shoes. I remember the porn video from last night, then I try not to.

Still not facing her, I drop character. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask for me to come over just to give you a waffle. What do you want?”

Her reply is muffled by a mouth full of food. ”Hh mhhhn mhhh hmmmngmmhhh hmmnghhhm.”

I turn my head to her and stare at her impatiently. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”{if Edge > 70} I can’t help but imagine that her mouth stuffed with cock would sound the same. This boner is never going away at this point.{endif}

She rolls her eyes and chews for a full minute under my gaze. She swallows it, then opens her mouth to show me her throat is clear, her flat, tapered tongue wagging. “There, happy?” {if Edge>70}I’m going to die from priapism.{endif}

She tries again. “I need you to install a webcam.” She points at her desk. Next to a pencil holder is a new webcam, still in shrink wrap. Clearly she hasn’t even tried to do it herself. This sounds like trouble.

“And what do you need a webcam for?” I pick up the box and look at the specs, not actually knowledgeable on webcams, but at least figuring out if it will work with her older computer.

“To make money!”

I lift my head and stare at the blank wall, dumbfounded. I’d turn to confront her, if only my dick would quit for a minute. “Tonya! You don’t want to do that.”

“It sure beats working another mall job. And if I work from home, I wouldn’t have to drive mom’s minivan anymore. It’s so embarrassing.”

I suddenly feel like the detective at the end of The Usual Suspects. Everything moves in slow motion. I realize that Tonya becoming a cam girl just makes sense. Too much sense. The Tease can tease hundreds of men at once and get paid for it... I slowly turn to the closet. She has an extensive wardrobe of very flattering clothing that guys have been buying for her... I keep turning, seeing the cute twinkle lights over the bed and imagining the webcam backdrop as she lays back and pleasures herself... I... need to say... something to stop her before... I die of priapism and exploding blue balls.

“A bad semester of college is no reason to become a... cam girl... Stripping for tips is no way to live. Your mom...”

“OH MY GOD.” She stops me mid-sentence. Her face is lit up, eyebrows raised in a look of amused astonishment. “I want to be a Twitch streamer, not a cam girl!" I’m still in a slow-mo daze, not quite hearing what she just said. “OH MY GAWD!” She says again. This time she is looking at my shorts.