See who's trying to get in.

The curiosity is strong, but not strong enough to just yank the door open and glare at your neighbor. No, you're going to play this calm. You strip off your outfit quickly, leaving you naked for about a tenth of a second before you pull on the short, skimpy, super-comfortable robe from the bathroom - and then, no less than ten seconds after you heard the first jiggle of the doorknob, you open the door wide, a vision in white terrycloth, staring at your neighbor for this -

-this week-

"Oh. I didn't expect to see you anytime soon." Poison purrs at you, giving you a broad smile. She looks more or less like you remembered her - tiny Daisy Duke cutoff shorts, cropped tank top that shows off her rack shamelessly, a bushel of pink hair that reaches past her waist... she gives you a downright predatory smile.

"You didn't?" You play it coy. "Then why were you trying to get into my room?"

"I didn't know who was next to me. Honestly, I thought if it was unused, I could use the extra space for a room party later." She sidles closer, and you feel your arousal spike. Shit. Now you're thinking about the last time you fought her. She doesn't fight like anyone you've ever met - hers is a method of street fighting that uses moves from the BDSM club more than the dojo - and you're trying not to imagine her riding crop against your flesh. By the same token, you're trying not to stare at her shorts - her shorts that are tenting conspicuously. You know that Poison is trans, and (according to her) she'll never get 'snipped' because of fears over the quality of care after such a surgery. You also know _now _that she's definitely well hung.

Very well hung.

"Then again..." She continues. "Maybe I can still use your room to have a little... party." She licks her lips, and you can't tell if she's taunting you or if she's serious.

The ball's in your court.