“You didn’t really think this was a real date, did you?” Jennette smir

“You didn’t really think this was a real date, did you?”

Jennette smirks across our dinner at me, her hand sliding up my thigh. Grinning, she starts to rub my cock through the thin fabric of my suit pants. She leans over to whisper in my ear; I can’t take my eyes off her stunning cleavage. “No,” she purrs, “this is a game Miranda and I like to play called Jizzerazzi.” She gently untucks my shirt and slips her hand down my pants, curling around my balls. “There’s cameras everywhere, and you’re about to give your finest show.” Her finger finds some precum and spreads it around. I gasp and inhale, realizing I’ve been forgetting to breathe. “Don’t bother resisting. You know you want to orgasm in my hands.” Nobody else can see what she’s doing under the tablecloth, but everyone can see my face. I’m straining against her hand, pressing my hands hard to the table, staring at my food, fighting to maintain some semblance of control.

“It’s time.” She quickly pumps fully down my cock, slowly slides up, quickly back down. My eyes glaze over as I feel the inevitable begin. I bite my lip and tilt my head back, forgetting all about the cameras.

Just as I start to spurt, Jennette straightens back up, pulling her hand quickly out of my pants. My eyes open in surprise, just as the first camera flashes. Disoriented, overwhelmed by my orgasm, I can only stare at Jennette, in equal parts satisfaction and betrayal. She laughs at my plight, soft breasts bouncing gently in her amusement. My lust for her fulfilled as I cum from her attentions, denied as I soak my pants and gasp for the cameras.