Give Steve the gun

You groan as you remember you got a test to study for tomorrow, and contrary to popular belief, sucking off professors usually gets them fired or resigning quicker than you can say Marilyn Monroe. Assistants are much easier prey, but it's still a lot of work to make "sexual acts for educational favors" look like "authentic romantic first date sex," so you've given up on that after the first year. Besides, no one stays young forever, so you might as well spend that energy getting an education into your head so you're ready to become a serious woman when you grow old.

You look down at the biggest distraction that's keeping you from your studies, the stereotype gun. You feel pretty confident that this ray gun doesn't do anything, or, at best not anything you won't remember, so you decide that you might as well let Steve look at this thing and see what he thinks of it. It should at least get it out of sight until you've passed this test.

And who knows, he might figure something out. Steve, like most dudes, is quite into computers, so it wouldn't surprise you if he could figure out if it was worth anything. You decide you might need to freshen up your make-up and do so for a minute, pick up the ray gun and step out into the kitchen, where Steve has begun putting various food stuff items into shelves.

"Hey, Steve," you hum as you enter the kitchen, feeling a bit of an urge to pull him into your bedroom for some fun, but the thoughts of that damn test is not exactly mood setting. "I found this at a garage sale today. I thought it looked cool, but I'm beginning to wonder if it might actually do something. But I got this test tomorrow I need to focus on, so I was wondering if you could tinker with it a bit, maybe google and see if it's worth anything?"

Steve gives you a sideway glance before looking at the weird contraption, taking hold of it as you hand it over. "Erm, sure," he says as he inspects it one-handed, seeing the text written on it. "A Stereotype gun? What does that even mean?" he asks.

"Not quite sure. I kind of aimed it at myself a while back, and it made me feel... weird," you say in a pondering voice while biting your lower lip, before you lean in and hug your breasts against Steve's arm, tip-toing to whisper in his ear. "but if you figure out if it does anything or is worth anything, I'll make sure it'll be worth your time," you say and give him a peck on his cheeks. You disentangle yourself and move back towards your bedroom. "Maybe... just not tonight. That test tomorrow is killing me," you add as you look back at Steve, leaning on the door frame and showing off your curves to him.

Steve looks at you, nods and...