"Oh, junior, it's your turn!" my senior said with a playful smile.

She stepped out from the steaming mist of the bathroom, carrying a washbasin filled with toiletries and discarded clothes. She looked like a goddess descending from the heavens!

She wore only a red striped camisole on her upper body, and she wasn't wearing a bra—her nipples protruded provocatively through the thin fabric. On her lower half, she wore denim shorts so short they were almost scandalous, revealing her lush, tender thighs and the swell of her buttocks.

I’d bet anything she wasn't wearing panties either! She had likely forgotten to grab a change of underwear when she headed in for her bath. Especially at a moment like this, seeing her damp, clean, glowing body accompanied by that drifting, sweet fragrance...

Damn... it was getting hard to pretend to be composed!

I was a freshman, having just moved into this apartment near the university two weeks ago. It was a place specifically for students, with four rooms on the same floor sharing a single bathroom. Because of that, showering was a hassle involving a queue. But with such a magnificent view to enjoy, I found myself never complaining again!

Even though she was a year ahead of me and I called her "Senior," in my heart, I never truly treated her like an older sister. She was petite with a lovely face and a certain innocent, silly charm—except for the fact that her breasts and hips were sized more like a mature woman's. Heh... otherwise, it would be hard for anyone to see her as just a sister!

As she brushed past me, her scent hit me so hard that my manhood surged to a rigid stand. Reluctantly, I turned my head to watch the sway of her round, firm buttocks tucked into those tiny denim shorts as she walked away...

I rushed into the bathroom and shut the door, reluctant to let that fragrant mist dissipate. I spent a few moments in there, fantasizing about making passionate love to her—a quick solo session before actually washing up.

The washing machine was in the bathroom. Once, halfway through my shower, she had knocked on the door. She explained that she had intended to throw her freshly changed clothes into the machine before heading back to her room for more laundry, but she realized I had beaten her to the shower.

When she said that, I opened the washing machine lid and saw it—the very outfit she had just been wearing! Immediately, I took every piece—her T-shirt, her skirt, her panties—to her scent, rubbing my member against the fabric. After the pleasure peaked and I'd finished, I ejaculated all over them before putting them back in the machine. Heh... it was pure bliss!

I lived in a constant cycle of fantasizing about her, jerking off, and climaxing... sometimes even stealing her clothes from the drying rack to satisfy my urges.

Immersed in this long-term lust and fantasy, my life as a student became a haze of desire. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, a wicked thought took root: no matter the method, I was going to have her in reality!

...

Some time passed. One evening, as I returned to the dorm after class, the bathroom was already occupied. To confirm if it was her, I prepared an excuse and knocked on the other two doors, but no one answered.

Then, I noticed her door wasn't locked! Heh... just as suspected, she was in the shower.

Seizing the opportunity, I found a ring of keys in her room—likely including her room key and her scooter keys. I secretly hid them in my room and then locked her door from the outside.

When she emerged from the shower, smelling fresh and clean, she was startled to find her door locked! I heard her stomping around outside, so I stepped out, feigning concern.

"What's wrong?" I asked sweetly.

"I accidentally locked myself out!" she said, looking frustrated and annoyed. The way she furrowed her brows was incredibly cute.

"What should we do? Does the landlord have a spare key?"

"He should... but even if we find him, he won't come over right now, will he? He doesn't live nearby... and my money is in the room, even my scooter keys... what am I going to do?"

After soothing her for a while, I suggested, "Don't worry, Senior. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don't mind. Tomorrow, I'll drive you to the landlord to get the spare."

She thanked me profusely, as if she had encountered a saint. Heh, she was so naive... a total fool.

...

That night, I took her out for late-night snacks and brought them back to my room to eat. Since she always dressed very lightly after a bath, she was wearing a camisole and micro-shorts again. This time, she remembered her bra, but even so, the way the lace highlighted her peaks was enough to drive me wild!

I lent her a light jacket to cover up, but once she arrived at my room, she complained of the heat and insisted on taking it off. This was exactly what I wanted... you'll feel even hotter in a moment!

After the snacks, I brought out my "secret weapon" from the fridge: chilled millet wine. I highly recommended it, and her sweet tooth made it hard for her to resist. To tease her, I added, "You don't drink much, do you? You probably can't handle more than a few cups."

She immediately protested, claiming she could outdrink most of the boys at her class reunions.

"Is that so?" I replied, pouring her a full glass. "Then let's see—bottoms up!"

And so, one glass after another, we finished the bottle. I was fine; I was used to this kind of drink. Growing up in Taitung, my family sold local specialties, and I always brought bottles back to drink. But she was a different story. After boasting about her tolerance, she was already flushed and breathless.

She leaned limply against the table, her chest partially exposed beneath the thin straps of her top.

"Is there... any more?" she asked slowly.

"It's all gone! Was it really that good?"

"So good... I want more..."

When I suggested going to the convenience store for red wine and ice, she agreed without a second thought. As we walked, she swayed unsteadily, nearly stumbling several times. As I supported her, I made sure to brush against her breasts. She didn't even react, merely smiling and stubbornly insisting she could walk.

Back at the dorm, the drinking became even more spirited. As we sat together, the more she drank, the more uninhibited she became. She was a completely different person.

Using the slight intoxication as an excuse, I leaned closer and wrapped my arm around her. She didn't resist, so I took the chance and kissed her deeply. She was semi-conscious, but she actually responded with fervor, pressing herself against me for a passionate kiss.

*Does she think we're dating?* It didn't matter. The point was, the opportunity was here.

I slid the straps of her top off her shoulders, letting the garment fall to her waist, leaving her in just her bra. I noticed her bra was incredibly thin—the lace was almost sheer, allowing me to see the faint outlines of her nipples through the fabric.

I began to softly suck and nibble at her breasts through the lace while caressing her soft, elastic thighs. She let out tiny moans, melting into my arms, allowing me to do as I pleased.

Because this was my first time, and because she was such a prize, the excitement made my veins feel like they were about to burst. I stripped completely naked. Looking down at my manhood, it felt twice its usual size, throbbing with intense vitality.

She was already draped over me. As I shifted back slightly, she slid down naturally. I guided my head to her mouth and gently slid inside.

"Oh!" She instinctively closed her lips around me, sucking just like a baby. The sensation was indescribable—nothing like the friction of my own hand.

I had an idea. I pulled out, coated the tip with some chilled red wine, and slid back into her mouth. She began to suck even more intensely, as if trying to drain every last drop of the liquid. It was incredibly pleasurable.

After repeating this three times, I finally reached my limit. Groaning, I held her head firmly and ejaculated deep into her mouth. In her dazed state, she seemed to think it was just more wine, swallowing it all down.

The thrill of that first experience left me wanting more. Not feeling tired at all, I laid her down on the soft floor mats and continued to worship every inch of her body. She couldn't handle my licking and sucking; she writhed and squirmed, letting out continuous, wanton cries.

By now, her clothes were gone, and I had found her entrance, ready to begin the real assault. I wondered if she would remember any of this when she woke up... but it was mutual, wasn't it? I didn't force the drink on her; she wanted it.

If she remembered, maybe we could become "friends with benefits." The thought made me even more excited!

Seeing that she was sufficiently wet, I began to rub against her before slowly sliding into her vagina. She let out a few sharp cries, her body tensing as she instinctively tried to push me away, but it was too late. I was fully inside her, pinning her down to begin the rhythm.

It felt amazing—as if I were being enveloped by something warm and incredibly soft, like sliding into thick jelly, but much tighter. Her moans rose and fell with my thrusts. Though my movements were unrefined, they were enough to make her scream with pleasure. It was clear she wasn't used to this; she must rarely have sex.

She clung to me, her brows furrowing and then lifting in intense sensation. The expression on her face was heartbreakingly beautiful.

I tried almost every position I had seen in adult films—on the bed, on the floor, lying, standing, sitting... I explored her body until we were both completely spent. It truly felt like a life well-lived.

Because she had just performed oral on me, my stamina was high. As we moved, a thought crossed my mind: *Where should I finish this time?*

Maybe... inside her bottle of body wash? That way, she would wash her entire body with my essence every single day!

But before the thought could even settle, the climax hit me unexpectedly. Before I could pull out, I emptied myself deep inside her.

We lay there panting, our sweat soaking the sheets. At that moment, the only word in my mind was *bliss*.

We played until four in the morning. I finished inside her six times. For the seventh time, after she had performed oral, I actually managed to aim for the body wash bottle, though she was still blissfully unconscious.

The next day at noon, she woke up amidst the tangled limbs and nakedness, looking absolutely terrified.

Then, the drama I had rehearsed played out. She covered her naked body with the quilt and began to cry, while I did my best to comfort and apologize, pretending it was all just a "drunken mistake" and that I had no idea what had happened.

The naive girl believed me almost instantly! She even ended up apologizing for her own "loss of composure"!

It was so easy—no responsibility required! Hahaha!

However, she borrowed some money for transport to head back to her home in the south. A few days later, she returned, but only to pack her belongings and move out.

Ah... what a pity.

But in the end, the venture was a success. I had left my seed in her body wash; who knows? Perhaps the next time she washes her intimate areas, she might just conceive my child.