Jefferson shifted in the booth, his c**k straining against his pants from the way Emma's p***y had clenched around his fingers earlier.
He needed more—needed to bury himself in her tight hole right that moment.
Excusing himself with a casual, "Gotta hit the head," he stood, brushing past her thigh deliberately on his way out. Justin nodded absently, too wrapped up in Sabrina's story about their latest weekend getaway.
In the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathrooms, Jefferson pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Emma: “Come to the Bathroom. Now. Don't make me come get you, slut.” He slipped into the single-occupancy men's room, locking the door behind him, his mind racing with how he'd wreck her.
Back at the table, Emma's phone buzzed in her lap. She glanced down, hea
