Her eyes widen slightly in surprise at your bold response, a hint of red creeping onto her cheeks. She quickly regains her composure and scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Please, as if I'd ever think about you like that. You're just a pathetic excuse for a-" She cuts herself off, her gaze flickering downwards briefly before meeting your eyes again. "Just... put it away. And close your door next time, gross." With that, she turns on her heel and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Later that evening, Amy storms into your room again without knocking, her face flushed with anger. She points an accusing finger at you. "I knew it! I heard noises coming from in here, and sure enough, you're at it again! What is wrong with you?!" She glances down at your lap, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly looks away, her cheeks turning even redder.

Her face darkens with anger at your accusation. "I am NOT jealous, you pervert! I was just... making sure you weren't doing something stupid again!" She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "And Jack is more than enough for me. He's perfect, unlike some people I know." Despite her words, there's a hint of uncertainty in her voice, and she can't quite meet your gaze. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

Her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red at your teasing, and she quickly averts her gaze. "Shut up! I'm not looking at anything! You're disgusting!" Despite her words, her eyes keep darting back to your lap, curiosity getting the better of her. She bites her lip, clearly conflicted. "F-fine, if you insist on doing this, at least put on a show. I want to see what all the fuss is about." She says it with a mix of defiance and nervousness, as if daring you but also scared of what she might see.

Her eyes widen as you shift yourself, and she swallows hard, clearly nervous but also intrigued. She takes a step closer, as if unable to resist the temptation. "W-well, don't expect me to be impressed or anything. I've seen Jack's... equipment, and yours can't possibly compare." She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, but her eyes are glued to your lap, anticipation written all over her face.

Her breath hitches as you start to move, and she unconsciously leans forward, her eyes never leaving your lap. Her cheeks are flushed, and she licks her lips nervously. "N-not insecure! I'm just... curious. It's not like I've never seen a man's... parts before." She trails off, her voice getting softer as she watches you intently. Despite her words, it's clear that she's captivated by the sight, and she seems to have forgotten her initial disgust.

Amy's cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red at your words, but she doesn't look away. She uncrosses her arms and takes another step closer, her eyes widening as she watches you move. "I-I'm not enjoying anything! I'm just... making sure you're behaving yourself!" Her voice is breathless, and she's clearly trying to convince herself more than you. She takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself, then blurts out: "You know what? Fine! If you're going to put on a show, at least make it a good one. Show me what you've got!" She looks at you defiantly, but there's a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, as if she's afraid of how much she might like what she sees.

Her chin lifts in defiance at your challenge, her eyes narrowing. "Oh please, I've seen Jack perform plenty of times. I doubt you could ever match him." But even as she says it, her gaze darts down to your lap again, watching your movements with rapt attention. She swallows hard, her cheeks flushed and her breathing growing more rapid. "Besides, I'm not some fragile little thing. You couldn't make me faint if you tried." She crosses her arms, trying to look confident, but there's a slight tremble in her voice that betrays her nerves.

Amy's eyes widen as you pick up the pace, her mouth falling open slightly in shock. She watches, transfixed, as your movements become more intense, her own breath hitching in sync with yours. "I-I... you... I never..." She stutters, unable to form a coherent sentence as she stares at you, her eyes dark with desire despite her attempts to hide it. She takes a step closer, then another, until she's right at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a mix of fear and fascination.

Her face flushes even redder at your wink, and she quickly looks away, trying to regain some semblance of control. "I-I'm not enjoying anything! I'm just... amazed at how pathetic you look." But her gaze is already drifting back to your lap, unable to resist the temptation. She takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself, then looks back at you with a determined expression. "Fine, I'll take a closer look. But only because I want to make sure you're not doing anything... inappropriate." She sits down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving your lap as she leans in slightly, as if to get a better view. Her breathing is growing more rapid, and she licks her lips nervously.

As you pick up the pace again, Amy's eyes widen, and she leans back slightly, her breath catching in her throat. She watches, captivated, as your movements become more intense, her own body responding to the sight. "I-I'm not going to forget this, that's for sure," she mutters, more to herself than to you. "But it's not like I have a choice, is it? You're forcing me to watch." She says it with a hint of accusation, but there's no real anger behind her words. If anything, she seems more fascinated than offended, her eyes glued to your lap as you continue to perform for her.

Amy blinks, taken aback by the sudden change in pace. She opens her mouth as if to protest, then hesitates, glancing away nervously. "N-no, that's not necessary. I'm fine." But her voice trembles slightly, betraying her lie. She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself, then looks back at you with a determined expression. "I can handle whatever you throw at me. Don't underestimate me." Despite her words, she can't seem to stop staring at your lap, her eyes tracking every movement with rapt attention. She licks her lips nervously, her breathing growing more rapid with each passing second.

As you pick up the pace again, Amy's eyes widen, and she leans forward, her breath catching in her throat. She watches, captivated, as your movements become more intense, her own body responding to the sight. "I-I'm not going to enjoy this!" she protests weakly, even as her gaze remains glued to your lap. "I just want to make sure you're not doing anything... inappropriate." But her voice is breathy, and she can't seem to look away, her eyes tracking every movement with rapt attention. Her cheeks are flushed, and she's biting her lip, trying to hold back a moan.

Amy's eyes flash with indignation at your words, but there's also a hint of fear in them, as if she's afraid of the answer to your question. She opens her mouth to retort, then closes it again, looking away from you. "It's... it's not like I have anything to compare it to," she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not going to pretend like I'm some kind of expert on... on this stuff." She shifts uncomfortably on the bed, her body betraying her arousal. She crosses her legs tightly, as if trying to hide her reaction, and takes a deep breath before looking back at you. "Just... just get it over with already. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to."