A dazzling smile, a sweaty forehead, and a healthy, well-kept body. I fell for her the moment I first saw her. She was standing in front of my apartment, chatting cheerfully with an old neighborhood woman. I happened to run out of toilet paper, so I placed an order—and she was the one who delivered it. At the time, I wanted to talk to her, but I was too shy and pretended nobody was home. For several days, I kept ordering unnecessary things, just to catch a glimpse of her through the intercom camera. I knew this couldn't go on. Gathering my courage, I finally opened the door—and she was kind, adorable, and smelled amazing. She greeted me with a polite "Nice to meet you," but in reality, it wasn't our first meeting. I'd been thinking of her every day. I loved her. The growing pile of cardboard boxes in my room was proof of my obsession. I planned to confess to her next time she came. But before I knew it, I had grabbed her, dragged her inside, and raped her. Instead of confessing, I lost control. Her body smelled of sweat and shampoo, soft and unexpectedly pale. Since it was my home, I decided to do whatever I wanted. I ripped off her familiar blue uniform shirt, revealing her pure white skin and pink nipples. I forced my cock deep into the mouth that had just been smiling so sweetly. I felt it hit the back of her throat as she gagged, clearly suffering. Poor girl... but it felt too good to stop. I slammed her down in the entryway and thrust inside her roughly. I could feel every step she'd taken up and down the stairs—her tightness was unbelievable, sucking me in completely. But her face showed only disgust and fear. I don't remember everything clearly, overwhelmed and unsure what to do—I ended up cumming inside her. I meant to confess, but instead I raped her. Poor girl. Poor me.