Date Night Nerves

Codey’s pacing his bedroom, tie crooked, palms sweating. His best friend Demi sits on the bed, watching his ass in those slacks, biting her bottom lip. He keeps asking for dating advice like she’s his coach, but all she wants is to rip the shirt right off him. She gives him some tips anyway—compliments, eye contact, all that—yet he’s wound so tight nothing lands. She offers a massage instead. He nods fast, flops on the bed, eyes shut, trusting her hands. She starts out proper, but soon her fingers are sliding lower, testing. His cock tents the towel. Demi grins. "They say a guy shouldn’t go on a date with one still in the chamber," she teases. Codey blinks, lost. She spells it out: cum first or regret it. He panics—zero time to jerk off—so she volunteers, "Friends help each other, right?" Clothes hit the floor. She pours oil, climbs on, tits and belly gliding over him, nipples dragging across his chest. Every slide of her smooth skin has him groaning, forgetting the date entirely. When she finally sinks down onto his cock, riding him slow and deep, she knows she’s got him. Her pussy squeezes, milking him, daring him to admit he’d rather stay right here. The question is—does he?