She has a proposal

Sam’s stomach dropped.

Candy leaned against the doorway, twirling his cock ring around her finger like a prize. The house key dangled in her other hand, held just out of reach.

She was enjoying this.

"That was one hell of a streak, Sammy." Her voice was too sweet. Too amused.

Sam’s breath caught. She knows.

Candy tilted her head, eyes flicking down—right to the very obvious bulge in his underwear. A slow, teasing smile spread across her lips.

"I hope you realize," she continued, "that the cheerleaders? Oh, we’re never shutting up about your cock."

Sam flinched. God, no.

"It was all we talked about on the walk home." She sighed dramatically. "Who was the mystery streaker? Whose cock was swinging between those strong, sexy thighs? Who's the naughty little exhibitionist running through the halls, rock-hard, just for us?"

Sam swallowed hard. His legs felt weak.

Candy smirked. "And guess what? A few of them are coming over right now."

Sam’s blood ran cold.

"We’re gonna sit on my couch, drink some lemonade, and talk about your cock, Sammy."

Sam visibly twitched.

"And I could tell them the truth. Tell them exactly who the big, bad cock belongs to." She dangled the house key, giving him a moment to think about what that would mean.

Then she pulled it away.

"But I won’t."

Sam let out a shaky breath—then froze as she gave him a new condition.

"I’ll give you the key… if you give me your underwear."

Silence.

Sam’s face burned.

"Strip, Sammy."

She smiled. And waited.