The air in the dorm room was thick with unspoken tension. Months of late-night study sessions, shared meals, and stolen glances had finally reached a boiling point. I could practically feel her eyes on me as I pretended to focus on my textbook. "Kantot mag damag," she'd whispered once, half-joking, during a particularly stressful exam week. The memory sent a shiver down my spine.
She shifted in her chair, her bubble butt subtly flexing against the worn fabric. I risked a glance. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that was both innocent and undeniably alluring. She caught my eye and a shy smile played on her lips. That was all it took.
I stood, my heart pounding. "I can't do this anymore," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "I want you." She didn't say a word, but her eyes, wide and expectant, told me everything. She stood too, meeting me halfway, her perky tits pressing softly against my chest. She smelled of mangoes and something uniquely her.
We kissed, a desperate, hungry kiss that quickly escalated. Clothes were shed in a frenzy of pent-up desire. She had a natural tits that were just asking to be worshipped. I pulled her back to the bed, gently pushing her down. The missionary position felt primal, intimate. I wanted to see her face, to connect with her as I lost myself in her. Her pussy, while shaven (bald pussy) was so tight and wet.
The room was filled with moans as I thrust deeper, my big cock buried inside her. I grabbed her hips, pulling her closer. I could feel her nails digging into my back. "Faster," she gasped, her breath hot against my ear. I obliged, my movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. I knew I was close. I couldn't hold back any longer. I covered her face covering with my hand, not to hide her, but to hide the cum from splattering everywhere. I unleashed everything inside her (cum in pussy). We lay there for a long time afterward, breathless and intertwined, the silence broken only by the sound of our ragged breathing.
Later, as we lay tangled in the sheets, I noticed the piercings on her ears, catching the soft light of the setting sun. It was a small detail, but it felt significant, a reminder of the complex, beautiful woman who had just given me the most incredible experience of my life. It was clear this was homemade.
