Date Night Nerves

Codey Steele's pacing his bedroom like a caged tiger, all jitters for this big date. His best buddy Demi Sutra's there, playing wingwoman, straightening his collar with those sneaky, hungry glances he totally misses. He blurts out, 'How do I nail this date?' Demi's gut twists—part of her wants to spill how she really feels, hog him for herself—but she bites her tongue and drops some solid tips anyway. Kid's too wound up, though. Words bounce right off. Screw it, she thinks. 'Massage time. Loosen you up.' Codey nods like it's salvation, flops back, eyes shut. Demi's hands glide in, smooth as silk, pro-level but packing heat. She's no saint—oh no, she's gunning to rev his engine, watching that bulge stir. 'You know what they say,' she purrs, 'Don't hit the town with one loaded in the chamber.' Blank stare from Codey. She smirks, spells it out: 'Bust a nut before you go, stud. Clears the head.' He's freaking—clock's ticking, no solo session in sight. 'Boom, I'm your girl,' Demi fires back. 'Friends got perks!' Clothes hit the floor fast. She slathers on that Nuru gel, her killer naked curves sliding wild over him, teasing every inch. Hands, tits, ass—she's a one-woman seduction machine, grinding to hook her hot friend for good. Finally, she sinks down, takes his cock deep in her tight pussy, riding hard to drain him dry. Game over, right? She's betting this seals the deal—Demi's the prize he's been chasing all along.