22-year-old pediatric nurse Wakana, picked up at a club. She had come with a friend, and I seized the chance when her friend went to the bathroom, approaching her with the line, "Just one drink together?" She agreed, so I smoothly led her away from the bar counter—a successful move. In a crowded club, separating someone from their group makes reuniting difficult, which creates the perfect window to act.
Though we'd agreed on just one drink, we moved on to a second, then a third, and she gradually got more intoxicated. Meanwhile, her friend seemed to have been picked up by another guy and showed no sign of looking for Wakana. At that point, I suggested, "Wanna come back to my place and keep drinking?" She hesitated: "Well... I'm supposed to go to karaoke with my friend later..." I checked the time—she said around 1 a.m.—so I replied, "Then we just have to be back by then! Let's go!" And just like that, I succeeded in taking her home.
With barely an hour before 1 a.m., I had a tight schedule to work with. I took Wakana straight to my place and quickly moved things to the bedroom. Right before starting, I turned off the lights—an intentional move—and then turned them back on after a moment for dramatic effect. After thorough foreplay, she started squirting, and during a brief pause, I switched the lights back on.
Meanwhile, her phone kept buzzing with messages from her friend. Looking anxious, she kept saying, "What should I do...?" I casually suggested, "Maybe you should send her something?" While giving that vague advice, I plunged my bare cock inside her. Even drunk, her pussy was tight—really satisfying.
She locked me in with her legs wrapped around my back—the "daishuki hold"—in missionary, clearly enjoying herself. But in the middle of our rhythm, as I asked, "Can I cum inside?" and she replied, "No, not inside!", another message popped up from her friend. I suggested, "Just tell her you're in the middle of sex, at the best part?" Continuing my detached, flippant advice.
But as I kept thrusting and she kept checking messages, Wakana realized her friend was genuinely furious. "She's really mad—I have to go now!" she shouted, abruptly ending the sex. She scrambled to get dressed, and I was left on the verge of climax, devastated.
Then came an even more terrifying turn. When I drove her back to the club, her friend was waiting—and immediately slapped her hard. She grabbed Wakana by the hair, screaming, "Snap out of it! What the hell were you thinking!?" I tried to step in: "Sorry, it was my fault, I invited her—" but her friend snapped back, "Got it, thanks for the ride, now go home, goodbye!" in a rage, dragging Wakana by the hair into the karaoke booth. I could do nothing but leave.
I'd assumed Wakana had a scary but typical friend, and that disappearing with a guy at a club was normal between them—something they'd forgive each other for. But her friend's reaction was unexpectedly intense. "I'm sorry, Wakana..."
Video: 20 minutes 05 seconds
• We have confirmed all individuals appearing in this work are 18 years or older.
• All individuals are models who participated in filming with full consent.
• This work was filmed purely as a situational video intended for public release.
• This work explores personal fetishes within private life and is not an adult pornographic work.
• Redistribution of images or videos is strictly prohibited.
• Application for registration of video transmission-based special business operations has been filed.