He was a virgin freshman, cock throbbing at the mere sight of a skirt. She was his stunning Social Etiquette instructor—late-20s goddess with lush, teardrop tits straining a tight white tee, a heart-shaped ass begging to be gripped, and raspberry-gloss lips made for sin. One clumsy ballroom dance crash-landed her body atop his raging hard-on, her soaked heat grinding against him through thin fabric. What started as stolen dorm jerks to her memory exploded into a private "furniture moving" session... then a tear-soaked night of raw, healing fucking.
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