I don't remember too much about how I ended up in Katie's room. If my memory serves me correctly, it had been a pretty normal hall of residence party. The night had begun with my roommates and I shooting cans of bud before, and for this bit I can only assume, cheesily chatting up any girls that would listen to us. Like most 18-year-old students, we thought we were cool. And we thought we were hot. Our track record of "scoring with the ladies" told a different story but we were always game for a laugh. Or as the case seemed to be, game to be laughed at. I vaguely remember Jamie getting a vodka and coke thrown over him by Valerie, a posh overseas student who we had all tried to crack onto. And I vaguely remember doing tequilas with Katie and two of her mates.

The history of tequila and I is not a good one. On this occasion, however, it must have been on my side, because there I was, hammered beyond belief, sitting on the same bed as Katie.

Let me tell you a bit about Katie. She's gorgeous. I share a couple of classes with her and the lack of notes from each is evidence as to just how sexy she is. My mates all go for blondes (and there are plenty of them on campus) but Katie is a brunette. Long, dark brown hair that flows over her shoulders and midway down her back. She often ties it back, leaving a clear view of her large dark brown eyes and sexy little smile. To notice eyes and a smile is a big achievement for me - I usually find it hard to get beyond the bum and tits bit, but with Katie I even admire her dainty thin eyebrows and long eyelashes. Trust me, this is love by my standards.

Sat on the end of her bed, my heart was beating like a train. I knew I was drunk and I was conscious that I didn't want to make a complete tit of myself. That was enough to make me gabble like a fool, so I concentrated on not gabbling, which led to lots of awkward silences. I wondered if I was being a fool because I noticed Katie giggling a lot. Then I realised that she was as drunk as I was. We must have been chatting for nearly an hour, but God only knows what we talked about. I do, however, remember her asking me why I always stared at her in our finance class.

And I remember telling her "because I think you're gorgeous."

Is that pitiful or what? A pathetic, slurry attempt at a chat up line, which deserved to be met with an equally pathetic look and a beckon towards the door.

It was, however, a masterstroke (OK, she was drunk but let me enjoy my conquest).

You see, Katie is a little bit, shall we say, vain. And all her friends are blondes. And all my mates prefer blondes. So Katie seemingly didn't get the attention she felt she deserved. But now she had a slobbering fool in front of her who thought she was gorgeous.

"You do?" she giggled, flicking her eyelids in an extremely teasing manner. "That's so sweet."

I'm not embarrassed to admit that the little fellow down below took a bit of leap in my boxers shorts as I realised I had got away with being an idiot.

My mind was instructing me to play it real cool. "I've fancied you since the first day of term," I blurted out in a fashion reminiscent of my pre-high school dating days.

Again she giggled. "Aw, you're real sweet. Why didn't you say anything?"

In a truly stud like manner I shrugged my shoulders, at a complete loss for words. An awkward moment of silence followed as Katie jumped off the bed and walked towards the door. The little fellow was once again little as I prepared to make a humble exit before her giggles turned into mocking laughs.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said as she opened her door and walked out of the room.

I remember each and every one of the 45 seconds she was gone. I remember wondering where she was going. I remember expecting her to return with all her friends to laugh at me. I remember wishing I hadn't quit smoking two weeks earlier.

The door opened and Katie bounced in, clutching a bottle of wine. She jumped on the bed in front of me and grinned at me. I could tell you all of Katie's expressions from memory, but this grin was a new one. It was devilish, seductive, cheeky and to be honest, downright horny.

She dropped the bottle between us on the bed and I realised it was empty.

"What are you doing?" I quizzed.

"Duh," she answered. "Spin the bottle!"

Had I had a mouthful of beer I would've spat it out in shock. "What?" I asked in disbelief.

"You know, spin the bottle. If it lands on you, you have to take off a piece of clothing."

I knew the rules, very clearly. I had often imagined this very game with Katie. I was now starting to think I had passed out and this was just a very pleasant alcohol induced dream.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

She gave me a mock scolding look. "Do you want me to be?"

Words had once again escaped me, although thankfully I was able to nod enthusiastically.

Katie beamed a smile and spun the wine bottle.

It landed at, from my perspective, the four o' clock position.

"Its nearer you!" scoffed Katie.

I'm not at all embarrassed about my body. I'm slim, but reasonably muscular, so I was happy to unbutton my shirt and playfully lob it across the room. I was pleased to note Katie smile as she looked at my chest.

I took the next spin and again it finished nearer me. I made a couple of digs at the bottle being fixed before, in a mock reluctant fashion, removing my jeans.

It was as I pulled my jeans down that I realised I was hard. Katie giggled as she looked at my crotch and I felt myself blush.

I quickly spun the bottle again and was relieved when it finished pointing straight at her.

My heart was thumping as she sat up in front of me. I had often imagined what her body would be like and now I was going to see it for real. She was wearing a strapped silk top, which cut into a v over her breasts and finished level with her belly button, showing off her smooth, flat midriff. The top was tight enough that she didn't need to wear a bra, and my mind was filled with eager anticipation.

Slowly, she lifted the top up. She stopped with it just below her breasts, clearly in an effort to tease me. It worked. I was fully aware that my eyes were fixed on her breasts, like a dog waiting for a biscuit from his master. She giggled again then pulled the top up and over her head.

I felt my mouth go dry as I took in my first look of her naked breasts. They were quite small - a perfect handful - but they were smooth and firm. Her nipples were large and, I was pleased to see, as hard as my cock was. What seemed like an age passed as I eyed her gorgeous tits. She seemed content to let me look, so we were both happy. My analysis was broken as she spun the bottle again.

"Oh fuck," she exclaimed as the neck of the bottle finished on her side.

Again, my heart thumped.

She was kneeling in front of me, and her hipster jeans were lying perfectly on, well, her hips. She slowly undid the leather strap that acted as a tie and then undid the top button.

My eyes were once more fixed on their target, although I glanced up to see what she was looking at. She was smiling at me and I realised she was getting a thrill from the effect she was having on me.

She undid all the buttons and I felt myself draw breath as she slipped her jeans down over her hips. As they brushed down her thigh I looked at her skimpy blue string panties, open either side of the material that covered her crotch. I immediately noticed the lack of any pubic hair, so she was either completely, or at least neatly, shaven.

She stopped with the jeans at her knees and I took in her slender thighs. I love a girl whose thighs don't meet at the top, leaving a gap beneath the pussy. Her soft mound was clearly evident. She lay back on the bed and thrust her jeans off her legs, then quickly resumed her kneeling position in front of me.

"All square," she laughed in reference to us each being down to our final piece of clothing.

Enthusiastically I grabbed the bottle. My heart sank as it finished pointing straight at me.

"Bugger," I announced emphatically. Katie whooped gleefully.

"Come on then, off with 'em!"

"Aw come on, not fair," I argued feebly, concerned that I would take off my boxer shorts and that would be that. She would get dressed again and I would be left with my now more detailed imagination. "What about double or quits?" I offered.

"How can you play double or quits?" she quizzed. "You can't take your boxers off twice."

"OK, ok," I answered, my mind racing. "Well, what about a forfeit instead?"

"What like," she asked, clearly amused at my reluctance to strip off.

"Anything," I responded, genuinely hoping she could think of a forfeit that didn't involve me running around the halls naked.

"Anything?" she asked, her eyebrows raised and that devilish grin returned. I nodded, curious at what she was thinking of.

She lowered her head, almost shyly, then whispered:

"If you win, I'll take off my panties. But if I win..." she hesitated.

"What," I asked impatiently.

"Well, if I win, you have to lose the boxers..."

I nodded as she paused again.

"... And lick my pussy."

For the second time that night, I was visibly shocked. She was gently nodding at me, as if to convince me she was serious. I couldn't believe that the Katie I had lusted after since the start of term, all sweet and innocent in appearance, was horny little babe.

Without waiting for my response she took the bottle. "Best of three?"

The first spin finished on Katie; the second on me. Tension? An understatement.