- Joined
- Oct 9, 2022
- Messages
- 5
One night, I was having dinner with a female friend when she invited me to her dorm, fair enough, since she’d crashed at mine earlier that month.
As we walked there, I teased her about her thick Carioca accent and did a goofy impression. She burst out laughing.
We ended up at a communal campfire, sitting on wooden benches, talking about life, college, and research. She was calm, smiling softly, soaking it all in. Later, under the stars, we headed to her dorm, which she shared with a few other girls I’d already met.
Half-joking, I said I’d just crash on the couch that night. Truth is, she was dating another guy, and I didn’t want to be that guy, or so I told myself. I took a shower, changed into some clothes I had in my backpack, and she fixed up the couch for me.
She went to shower too, walking back and forth in a towel… and I was too tired to get what was going on.
I was half-asleep when she came out wearing a silky black nightdress and slipped into the couch with me. She cuddled up close, then whispered in my ear:
“We should fuck.”
I just smiled. Slowly. Knowingly.
We started with soft kisses, spooning, tugging her hair. Then I told her to ride me — and yeah, I grabbed that thick ass like I meant it.
Switched to a kind of sideways missionary, she lost it. Pretty sure all her roommates heard. Screw it.
Funny thing is, I’d once tried to flirt with one of her roommates and It didn’t work. Didn’t matter anymore.
Later that night, we made out in the kitchen. I lifted her onto the counter, kissed her hard. She made banana pancakes. We ate. Watched the sunrise.
Then I walked her to the dentistry faculty, where she studied. She snuck me into areas only students are allowed.
She said, “People will think you’re my boyfriend.”
I shrugged.
She smiled, soft again. “Doesn’t matter.”
She transferred to a uni closer to her parents later - for her own reasons, nothing to do with me. But I’m grateful I had that night. That one was worth It.
We didn’t really talk much after that night. A few memes here and there, the occasional comment on Instagram stories, you know the drill. But the vibe had shifted. No drama, no guilt. Just that quiet, unspoken “we did what we did.”
Sometimes I wonder if her boyfriend ever suspected. Probably not. Or maybe he did and chose silence. Either way, not my circus.
What stuck with me, though, wasn’t just the sex, it was how effortless it all felt. Like the universe said, “Here. Take this moment. Don’t overthink it.” And for once, I didn’t.
I still remember the smell of banana pancakes mixed with her perfume. The way she whispered dirty things with a half-laugh, like she couldn’t believe she was saying them. The quiet pride in her voice when she snuck me past security into the dental labs. It was all so weirdly intimate for a one-off.
I’ve had wilder nights. Hotter women. More intense connections.
But that one?
That one was pure serendipity, equal parts desire, timing, and the sweet chaos of college life.
Would I do it again? Hell yeah.
Would I fall for her? Not a chance.
Would I remember it years from now, during some boring work meeting or in a marriage that’s gone a little too cold?
Absolutely.
As we walked there, I teased her about her thick Carioca accent and did a goofy impression. She burst out laughing.
We ended up at a communal campfire, sitting on wooden benches, talking about life, college, and research. She was calm, smiling softly, soaking it all in. Later, under the stars, we headed to her dorm, which she shared with a few other girls I’d already met.
Half-joking, I said I’d just crash on the couch that night. Truth is, she was dating another guy, and I didn’t want to be that guy, or so I told myself. I took a shower, changed into some clothes I had in my backpack, and she fixed up the couch for me.
She went to shower too, walking back and forth in a towel… and I was too tired to get what was going on.
I was half-asleep when she came out wearing a silky black nightdress and slipped into the couch with me. She cuddled up close, then whispered in my ear:
“We should fuck.”
I just smiled. Slowly. Knowingly.
We started with soft kisses, spooning, tugging her hair. Then I told her to ride me — and yeah, I grabbed that thick ass like I meant it.
Switched to a kind of sideways missionary, she lost it. Pretty sure all her roommates heard. Screw it.
Funny thing is, I’d once tried to flirt with one of her roommates and It didn’t work. Didn’t matter anymore.
Later that night, we made out in the kitchen. I lifted her onto the counter, kissed her hard. She made banana pancakes. We ate. Watched the sunrise.
Then I walked her to the dentistry faculty, where she studied. She snuck me into areas only students are allowed.
She said, “People will think you’re my boyfriend.”
I shrugged.
She smiled, soft again. “Doesn’t matter.”
She transferred to a uni closer to her parents later - for her own reasons, nothing to do with me. But I’m grateful I had that night. That one was worth It.
We didn’t really talk much after that night. A few memes here and there, the occasional comment on Instagram stories, you know the drill. But the vibe had shifted. No drama, no guilt. Just that quiet, unspoken “we did what we did.”
Sometimes I wonder if her boyfriend ever suspected. Probably not. Or maybe he did and chose silence. Either way, not my circus.
What stuck with me, though, wasn’t just the sex, it was how effortless it all felt. Like the universe said, “Here. Take this moment. Don’t overthink it.” And for once, I didn’t.
I still remember the smell of banana pancakes mixed with her perfume. The way she whispered dirty things with a half-laugh, like she couldn’t believe she was saying them. The quiet pride in her voice when she snuck me past security into the dental labs. It was all so weirdly intimate for a one-off.
I’ve had wilder nights. Hotter women. More intense connections.
But that one?
That one was pure serendipity, equal parts desire, timing, and the sweet chaos of college life.
Would I do it again? Hell yeah.
Would I fall for her? Not a chance.
Would I remember it years from now, during some boring work meeting or in a marriage that’s gone a little too cold?
Absolutely.
