Deal with blueballs

Alright, you can make it through the door okay, but you're not outrunning anyone with Riley flopping around. You set her down in the hall and prepare to defend using the entrance as a choke point. You don't like the thought of throwing down with your erection shoved down your pants, so the brides can just deal with it standing proud.
The commotion has alerted the other brides. Frankenstein climbs of her slab and starts stretching. Her body rotates languidly as she awakens. You note how her breasts hardly move as she changes position and wonder if they're fake or if it's from being a corpse.

A mocha-skinned girl lazes in the sarcophagus. She holds her head in hand and props her elbow on the lip. Her sleepy face is painted with gold. Her straight black hair is slightly bedraggled before she tosses the muss from her hair.

No one makes a move. Bitches just stare at you; nosebleed looks more at your cock. It feels like they're tempting you back in, but that's stupid because it wont work. Still, your dick is hard, and you can't fuck Riley while she's unconscious.

The vampires had their chance, but you still have options in this room. There's some fusion of She-Hulk and Marge Simpson and a girl looking like a sitcom four year old after playing doctor. But if you take this all on face value, all these bitches are undead, and fucking corpses makes your dick fall off.

Then again, you haven't masturbated since Riley wanted to try bukkake four years ago, and that's a streak you wont break lightly.

You can't just leave Riley or drag her around the house, so that leaves the demon girls next door.

"Hey," you pop your head in the door, "If I let you suck my dick, will you promise not to do anything weird?"

"No," the succubi say in unison.

"I appreciate your honesty." You give a nod before backing away.