Condition!

She busied herself with plates, her back to me, shoulders tense. Her sweatpants sagged a bit, revealing the curve of her ass, and I caught a whiff of her unwashed skin mixed with that pervasive cum aroma.

It stirred something in me—concern laced with desire, my cock twitching at the thought of her touching herself alone, lost in pain. But I focused on her, stepping closer without crowding. 'Come on, sit with me. Eat something real. You've got to start caring again—for you.'

Tommie turned, plate in hand, but her gaze dropped to the floor, cheeks flushing. 'I'm fine,' she muttered, voice small and defensive. 'Just... busy. Work's been shit, and I don't see the problem. It's my place, my life.' She avoided eye contact, fiddling with the food, but I saw the lie in her fidgeting hands, the way her body curled inward, submissive even in denial.

Deeper struggle simmered there—the breakup's echo, her futanari secret making her feel broken, unworthy. The cum smell told me she'd been jerking off relentlessly, chasing relief that never came, her hygiene forgotten in the spiral.

I sat on the couch, patting the spot beside me. 'It's not just your place, Tommie. It's you. And I care—more than you know.' She hesitated, then joined me, the cushions dipping under her weight. Up close, her scent was intoxicating, a mix of sweat, cum, and her natural musk that made my pulse quicken.