Scene Description:
From their wild childhood days, Bobbi and James sealed a filthy little pact: if either ever hit rock bottom, the other would lend a hand—no questions, no limits. Years later James shows up at her door, freshly dumped, dragging his shit in garbage bags, broke, jobless, and desperate. He begs, throwing their old deal in her face, pleading for a spot on her couch. They sit down to hash it out and she smirks yeah, the pact was real, but ancient history. Mid-conversation the memory hits: he was her first kiss, that hungry, clumsy tongue-twist that left her aching. That old spark ignites straight between her legs. She still has a soft spot for him, but it's throbbing and soaked now. Fuck letting him just sleep on the couch—she wants him there right now, her straddling him and slamming her dripping cunt down on his cock, riding him hard and filthy until the cushions are wrecked and they're both gasping.
