Mika's panic spiked the longer Anya stayed silent, her eyes fixed on his cock with an expression of horror and disgust that made his stomach twist.
"H-Hey, what's with that look?!" He blurted out, flustered, waving his hands nervously. "It—It can't be that bad, right? I mean, I shower twice a day! I scrub it with soap until it squeaks!"
"Sure, it gets sweaty sometimes, but that's just how balls work...Still, there's no reason to look at me like I'm some rotting corpse!"
But Anya slowly shook her head, her voice low and trembling.
"No...it's not that." Her gaze didn't waver from his shaft. "It's not that you smell bad."
Mika exhaled in relief, only to jolt when she added softly, "But you do smell. Just...not in the way you think."
His eyes went wide. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Anya's expression tightened, and she tilted her head, sniffing faintly before whispering.
