In my first year at university, I lived in a dorm room on campus. At the time of these events, I had broken up with my first girlfriend and was beginning to wonder (as the band sang) what the hell I was doing here.

There were a couple of friends from my high school at this uni including B, a girl who I had always gotten on well with and who was also a friend of the afore-mentioned ex. B was from a strict and slightly secretive religious family of an unknown denomination, and the word was that she was ‘betrothed’ to someone from this religious group. B didn’t drink or show any interest in going out with boys and always dressed conservatively, but she was funny and fiery, and beneath her buttoned-up blouses and long skirts it was clear she had a fabulous figure.

She turned up in my room once after her Math class to express her frustration with her professor, and this became a weekly thing. Her verbal outbursts quickly became physical as she took out her annoyance on whatever was at hand - throwing her bag at me, biting her math book, and sweeping papers from my desk while I laughed and tried to calm her down. She would toss her hair and bounce out of my room after these impromptu therapy sessions, leaving me bemusedly sitting in a mess like a Hurricane had been through.

One afternoon B showed up after an unfortunate test result and was more worked up than usual. She sat on my desk and pushed a pile of books, papers and pens onto the floor, and then at my protestations pushed me in my chest in an attempt to tumble me backwards off my chair. I grabbed her wrists as I overbalanced causing us both to topple onto the floor in slow motion. Her body felt wonderful on mine. She was lithe and soft and undeniably curvy. I’m not sure I had ever touched her before let alone had her body pressed against me, but I felt myself quickly getting hard in response.

At some point our fingers entwined as I rolled her squealing onto her back, my legs between hers as we writhed against each other, wrestling and scrapping for the upper hand. She bucked under me, pushing her groin up into mine and we rolled again so she was on top of me, her hair falling over my face, her bosom heaving as she sat up with her legs parted astride mine.

It was a pretense of a fight, but neither of us wanted to admit that we wanted this, wanted each other, loved the feeling of our bodies against each other and the sudden, surprising eroticism of the moment. Her blouse had come partly unbuttoned and I could see the curves of her flushed breasts squashed against me, feel her heart pounding with mine as we struggled and pushed into each other. Her skirt had ridden up and fanned over us, and I raised my leg between hers and felt the warmth of her sex on my thigh, separated only by the thin layer of her underwear. She must have felt my cock hard against her hip as she rocked forwards and backwards in our struggle while her extended arms pinned my hands to the floor.

Suddenly she fell forward onto me and bit me on my collarbone through my t-shirt. I pushed my leg hard up between hers and thrust into her pelvis as she went silent, and then her whole body twitched and jerked and shuddered against me. Her breathing went ragged as her breasts rose and fell on my chest and then she collapsed, spent and silent, with our hearts pounding in our ears.

I could feel the heat from her face buried against my neck, and I longed to kiss her, to tell her it was alright, that it was wonderful, that we should do this and more again and again. But we lay there together in silence for ages, our fingers and bodies still entwined as if we didn’t want to let go but knew this was it: this was as close as we would ever be, and nothing like it would ever happen again. And then she pulled free and sat up, refusing to look at me as she brushed down her skirt, picked up her bag, and hurried out of the room.

I wanted to talk about it later, to tell her she was wonderful and there was nothing wrong with our desire for each other, but she blushed when she saw me and I knew this was not a moment she wanted to acknowledge.

This was many years ago, and we have lost touch with each other. I believe she married as arranged and stayed with the church, but I wonder if she ever thinks of that afternoon, how we lost all restraint, and fought and loved each other for a moment.