She had an affinity for sweatshirts, though they could never conceal her attractive figure. Her black hair was usually up in a high ponytail, and you loved the wayward curl by her ear that would always escape. Her lightly freckled skin made your mouth water. 

You would exchange words when she did her laundry, cooked dinner, anything, any excuse to lean against the counter and appear aloof while basking in your fix of her.

She was just calm enough to be considered a strange addition in your world. Your roommate wasn’t fucking her, but that didn’t mean you were allowed to. When he asked you to grant her asylum, you weren’t enthused. But your skepticism didn’t last.

Your second-nature charisma charmed her, and you lived for her smile, but she didn’t automatically open up to you as other women did. You fucking loved that. Maybe even more than you hated it.

Her polite disposition made your cock hard. You had to stroke it constantly to find some relief, but no vice could satisfy your craving.

It had to be her.

And so, you ignored her. The task put your willpower to the test. Your interactions were fewer and she seemed unaffected: It drove you bug-fuck. When every other girl was unfairly compared to her, you realized the extent of your predicament.

You’d gotten home late, cursing your options as you opened the door. Wishing you could despise her much as you despised her power over you.

She startled when you found her on the couch that served as her bed, naked and touching herself.

You froze. Minding the way her legs didn't close as you stared at one another. Her hair was down, coppery skin flushed. She had been working on herself for a while. Your cock grew instantly. Her body as perfect as you'd imagined.

You stepped forward. She rubbed her clit a little more, looking up at you. You dropped to your knees and she removed her hand, offered herself with spread thighs and a warm center.

It would have taken an army to pull you from that spot.

Your gaze recorded her every nuance; the slightly wild look in her eye, her already heaving breasts, how her toes pointed and her hips arched right as you bent down and covered her mound with your mouth.

Her moan was delicate and muted, her taste perversely sublime, and in that small second, you knew you'd fallen for her.

Jumping from a plane would have had less impact.

Holding her thighs open, you ate her with tenderness as she played with your hair, whimpering beneath you. You spread her pussy lips and nursed her clit until she came, which only made you want more.

She was fisting the couch cushions, clenching her teeth when you made her come the second time, your fingers inside her.

Exhausted and limp, she caught her breath as you pulled your shirt over your head. Watched you stroke your hard cock: a question. She sat up in answer, pushed on your chest.

Lying on your back on the living room carpet, she mounted you, feet on the floor in a low squat as she guided you into her. Her wet pussy around you sealed your certainty. She was perfect, molded to you just so.

You began to understand intimacy in that moment. The privilege she was giving you by letting you deep inside her.

She was entirely new, riding you with vigor you hadn’t thought her capable of. She fucked you expertly, silently, played with your balls as you rubbed her clit until she came again. You let her hump you as she needed, enjoying the show, the feel of her milking you.

Her disassociated state pleased you.

You rolled above her, slid in and out of her sensitivity, kissed and massaged, treated her as you’d never treated a woman before. You gave her what she needed. Obliged her desires. Flipped her onto her hands and knees and filled her with one long pump of your hips. She moaned loud enough to render you nervous.

The last thing you wanted was your roommate finding you balls deep in the one girl he asked you not to fuck.

You wondered if your feelings for her would make his reaction worse.

But none of that stopped you.

Her nipple was in your mouth, ass in your hands as you fucked her on the couch, thrusting leisurely, bottoming out deep in her. Your admirable stamina was finally running out. You wanted to come with her. To mark yourself in her.

She chewed her lip when you went a little faster, dropped her jaw when you went a little harder.

When she whispered your name--the first word spoken all night--you came. Hard. Feeling your cock burst hot cum inside her made her climax too, coming undone as you claimed her. Watching her derive pleasure from your release gave you an enormous dose of pride.

The timing was perfect. As you’d given her your last drop, your last push, she shivered with finality.

The longer she laid intertwined with you, catching her breath, the more content you grew.

Her heartbeat was slow long before she finally pulled herself away. She stood up, stark naked, and blushed.

“Thank you,” she whispered. You smiled.

When she grew hesitant, you waited.

“… This was a one-time thing, right?” she asked.

You caught your face before it could fall as fast as your heart did. Cleared your throat and nodded.

Her beautiful smile cut you.

She snagged a blanket and wrapped her bare curves as she left for the bathroom.

You watched her walk away from you in every sense. The woman who just fucked you so good you fell in love with her.

The pain was astounding.

Four years later she would become your wife, but you didn’t know it at the time.