I have figured out another layer to this, the author is a bit of a philosopher-sociologist trying to figure out why the sex rates are dropping. We know why the birth rates are dropping, its because everyone is both too busy and too poor to have kids. But the sex rates are also dropping too, and we see that its this collective pool of doubt over a screen acting as a tar pit stopping people from just like following their biological impulses. The thing that makes people do the sex? Oxytocin. If your brain doesn't produce enough of it due to trauma, depression, or anxiety; you likely ain't getting laid anytime soon. Basically how its supposed to go is your brain just gets like fucking flooded with it and you both lose your inhibitions. It tends to activate hard when you're on the couch alone, you know, like here. Unless your like being bombarded with several tiny anonymous voices in your head telling you simultaneously to go for it, not to go for it, its a crime and this situation never happens to people while its happening to you.
I'm calling it now, shes gonna like cicada kabedon him at this rate. This guy ended up being her sexual awakening in the weirdest fucking way and I don't think shes gonna let him out that easy. We gonna see some freaky scene soon through that door, which would probably manage to be somewhere between unreasonably erotic and a slasher scene. She hasn't ult'd yet but I suspect the ending could be either him chickening out (and at this point I would request the author to have a car hit him as it'd be more merciful) or her just like turning into a full dommy mommy. Like she is the aggressive one here if we're being real, pushing like goddamn miles to get this guy to move a centimeter. He's sealed off in a corner in the bathroom on the top floor of a building, she knows he wants her, he will try to throw the date but its already checkmate.