On that bench in the park that first afternoon, we talk for longer than I expect. I don't wear a watch, so I'm a bit surprised at just how long. She shivers and I notice that the sun has dipped lower in the sky. 'God, what time is it?'

She moves to look at her watch, a delicate little silver thing on her wrist – which is still lying against my leg, warm through my jeans. She takes her hand out of mine and twists her wrist to glance at the watch face. Her wrist is thin, smooth; pale on the inside where it was warm against mine as we held hands; dark on the outside, like the rest of her arm, her legs, her neck and face. The rest of her body too, I imagine for a second – and I flush at the desire that prickles my insides.

'Oh, look...it's about 7 o'clock.' She smiles, and I am captivated again by her lips. Her eyes are lovely, her cheeks are so soft-looking, and her teeth are perfect. Even her tongue, which darts out to lick her lips quickly, is pretty tempting. But at that moment, it is her lips I really want to kiss. And at that moment, I can't think about doing anything else. Wouldn't want to, anyway.

I've kissed a few girls before, and slept with one. But I struggle to think of a time when I've been so helplessly captivated by someone. Everything about her is so lovely: her profile; the deep, mellow brown of her skin; the gentle intensity of her voice; the stray strand of black hair curling on her neck; her tenderness as she holds my hand. And behind it all, the first thing about her that caught and held me: the play of her dress over the line of her body, and the contrast of the purple against her beautiful, seductive darkness.

She shivers slightly again and I feel her hand warm on my thigh where she's let it rest after checking the time. We don't hold hands again, though, and she has turned slightly towards me, her knee firm against mine. Slowly, I register that she must be feeling the evening breeze though her thin dress. Her lovely arms are beginning to pucker with tiny goosebumps. 'Oh my god, I'm sorry.' I struggle out of my denim jacket. 'Here, please. I'm not cold.' And in that moment, I'm really not.

Her grateful smile hits me in the tummy like a bolt, and it's possible that I actually gasp out loud with desire for her. Her smile widens as if I have, and then I do actually gasp. And whisper her name. She pulls my jacket on and I admire the curve of her perfectly round, full breasts in her dress as she twists her body. I don't even try to stop myself as I imagine sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting the soft material flow over my fingers as I guide it down her body, feeling the smoothness of her under my lips as I lean in. I wonder how she will taste.

Her gentle, sexy voice interrupts my fantasy. 'Actually...shall we go on somewhere?'

'Um, yeah. Can do.' I run a hand through my hair to dispel the vivid mental image of her naked body under me. 'Um, did you have any plans for tonight?'

She answers carefully. 'I didn't, no.' She grins at me as if to say that she does now, though, and I play the main role in them.

I clear my throat, where it's rapidly going dry. My arousal is beginning to pulse inside me. 'Ok, um. What about...um...are you hungry?'

She runs her hand up my thigh a little, from my knee, and just for a second slides it onto the inside of my leg. Oh god. Then her fingers find mine again and take them incredibly gently, and she smiles into my eyes. Oh god.

She shrugs with one shoulder. 'Depends what's on the menu.' Her eyes slide very deliberately down from my face, over the collar of my shirt and the shape of my breasts and body, over the tightness of my jeans. Her eyes linger on the fly, as if they could will the zip down, then move back and linger on my throat as if they could will the buttons of my shirt open too.

Oh god oh god oh god.

I swallow and clear my dry throat, but she beats me to it. 'Why don't I come along with you, and you can lend me that book?' Her voice is so so soft. I want to hear it whisper my name in my hair as we make love. 

She looks at me sideways, and her free hand pushes the strand of loose hair from her bun back behind her ear before she lets her wrist rest on her shoulder. She puts her head slightly to one side, to feel the hand on her neck, and I wonder if she knows how much the thought of kissing her there turns me on. Her mouth looks dry, and the flames of desire lick higher up my insides as her tongue slides carefully around her slightly parted lips. Her smile is still as soft as ever.

I nod and stand up clumsily, keeping hold of her hand as she also stands up. For a second, we are so close, I can feel us both instinctively move to hug. I know with a throbbing clarity that our bodies would mould together so beautifully...but we don't hug. Not there, not yet.

We drop hands reluctantly, and move off in the direction of my halls of residence.

***

In my room, I am suddenly and stupidly shy, fussing about clearing some clothes off my chair, tutting over a pile of books and lecture notes on the single bed. I start to tidy up clumsily, until I feel her behind me. Her presence is gentle, calming, comfortable.

She turns me round and takes my cheek in her hand. She rests the other on my hip and encourages my body to press onto hers. Her head is very close, I can feel her warm, sweet breath in my hair. 'Shhh, sexy girl. Relax.'

Her lips are dry, like mine, but so soft. They are full and pink and gentle. They send a wash of pleasure though me, and I know everything – at that moment, it feels like absolutely everything – is going to be OK. In that kiss, I know I need her to stay with me.

She licks her lips and kisses me again. Her wet lips moisten mine too, then her tongue slides gently along them to make sure. I open my mouth to her invitation and tremble in her arms at the waves of pleasure.

She draws back, then pecks my lips quickly. She looks at me carefully. 'Done this before?' Her eyes flick to my bed, then down my body, then back to the bed again. I feel her hand more firmly on my hip, and her body feels so comfortable, so perfect on mine. I can hardly believe I'm not dreaming.

I nod. 'Once.'

She grins. 'Ready to do it again?'

I nod. The delighted look of frank lust in her eyes makes me smile. 'They say practise makes perfect.'

She kisses me, and I can feel her smile against my mouth. 'I need lots of practice, I'm afraid.'

I like the way we can banter a little, even as the desire throbs between us. 'So do I.'

She takes the book I'm holding from my hands and guides my fingers to touch her neck under the collar of my denim jacket. 'Why don't you take your jacket back?'

She stands still as I slowly fulfil my earlier fantasy, sliding my fingers over her smooth, bare shoulders as the jacket slides down her arms. Her skin is so beautiful, so soft and dark under my pale hands. I lean in and breathe in her scent before planting shy little kisses on her neck, under her ear. The jacket falls on the floor.

She murmurs in pleasure, and I wonder if I am already in love. The desire, the excitement, the joy, thumps through my body, and I know everything will be beautiful and right.

***

There are lots of kisses, standing there in my room. Long, deep kisses. She undoes a button on my shirt. I pull at the hairpins in her bun, and groan in pleasure into her mouth as her long locks tumble over my hands and her shoulders. I lose a hand in their sexy darkness, feeling the shape of her neck under my fingers and liking the way it makes her shiver. She undoes a second button on my shirt, and her hand is gentle but firm on the curve of my breast.

We kiss more, and her tongue probes and strokes, bringing me to the pitch of desire she is seeking from me. She trails a hand slowly down my body and untucks my shirt. The touch of her fingers on my navel makes me gasp and hold my breath in. She pops the button on my jeans and pushes the zip open halfway. With my free hand, I brush one of the straps of her dress slowly off her shoulder.

We break off and kick our shoes off, and she moves herself backwards towards the bed. Our hands meet and she pulls me with her, our arms extended between us. She pushes herself back onto the pillows and I have to pause and gaze at her in wonder. 

Her hair is a cascade of beautiful darkness around her face and shoulders, vivid against the paleness of my pillows. Her weight is propped on one elbow, and her shallow breathing makes the curve of her chest rise and fall quickly. Her hips are slightly twisted to one side. One of her legs is raised at the knee and angled slightly in front of her. Her dress – that gorgeous, thin, soft swathe of purple – is crumpled slightly across her midriff, but sits tight across her full, round breasts. The material follows the slight movements of her body exactly. The hem lies disarrayed across the tops of her thighs, as if drawing my dry-throated attention to the promise of the beautiful sweetness deep between them.

Her eyes follow mine, see how I am looking at her, and she smiles kindly. She reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me a little closer. I kneel on the mattress, as she moves her legs a little and turns her fingers in my hand. She guides my hand onto her knee, gently using her fingers on the back of it. I notice the contrast of my pale hand on her dark leg, her dark fingers on my hand and the deep purple of her nails echoing her dress. She moves my hand onto her thigh, onto the inside of her raised thigh, and slides it over her silky skin towards the hem of her dress. I bite my lip and hold my breath, and watch the pleasure dance in her eyes.

Her fingers guide mine deeper between her thighs. She is hot, soft, ready for me. I gasp, and she murmurs in pleasure. She guides my fingers into the waistband of her knickers and raises an eyebrow. I understand what she wants me to do.

When I turn back to her, she lets my hand find its own way back up between her legs. She turns fully onto her back and uses her hands on my hips to move me where she wants me, on top of her, between her legs. We kiss, deeply. She moans softly in joy and raises her hips to meet my probing fingers.