One Drunken Night

Same Old Routine

The girl on her knees in front of me had a name, I was pretty sure. Something with an A?... Ashley? Amber? Didn’t really matter. She was a junior, same university, one of those girls who knew exactly how this worked. No expectations, no awkward morning talks, just fun. Exactly how I liked it.

Her mouth was warm and eager, sliding up and down my c**k with that perfect rhythm that usually had me groaning in under a minute. I leaned back against the headboard in her dorm room, one hand tangled loosely in her hair, the other gripping the sheet. The afternoon light filtered through the blinds, casting stripes across her back as she bobbed her head.

“f**k, that’s good,” I muttered, letting my eyes half-close.

She hummed around me, the vibration shooting straight through my body. This was the life. No complications. No blood on the sheets. No quiet girl with nervous eyes asking me to go slow. Just a random Tuesday hookup with someone who knew the score.

I tried to lose myself in it, thrusting up gently into her mouth, letting the wet heat take over. For a few minutes it worked. My mind went blank, the hangover from the weekend finally fading into the background. She was good at this. Really good. I felt that familiar pressure building, my abs tightening.

But then, out of nowhere, a flash of dark hair on a white pillow. A small nervous laugh. The way Sienna had looked at me that morning, all messy and and so f*****g beautiful.

I pushed the thought away hard. Not now. Not f*****g now.

I tightened my grip in the girl’s hair, guiding her a little faster. “Yeah, just like that.”

She picked up the pace, sucking harder, her hand working the base. I focused on the feeling, on the slick sounds filling the small room, on how easy this was. This was me. This was what I did. Campus playboy, king of no commitment, the guy everyone knew would show up, f**k around, and leave before things got messy.

I came with a low groan, hips jerking as she took it all, swallowing like a pro. She pulled back with a satisfied little smile, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Good?” she asked, voice husky.

“Perfect,” I said, flashing her the usual grin. The one that always worked.

She crawled up beside me on the bed, clearly expecting a little more. I let her cuddle against my side for a minute, hand lazily stroking her back, but my mind was already drifting. Checking out.

After a bit I sat up, reaching for my jeans on the floor. “I gotta head out. Got practice later.”

She pouted but didn’t push it. “Text me?”

“Yeah, sure,” I lied smoothly. We both knew I wouldn’t.

I pulled on my clothes, dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, and slipped out of her dorm like it was nothing. The hallway smelled like cheap perfume and leftover pizza. Just another day on campus.

The rest of the week blurred by in the usual way. Classes I mostly showed up to, parties every other night, girls whose names I barely remembered. Thursday I hooked up with a blonde from the soccer team in the back of someone’s car after a game. Friday I had two different girls at the same house party — one in the bathroom, another later in an upstairs bedroom. Easy. Predictable. No morning guilt.

But every once in a while, when things got quiet, Sienna crept back in.

Like when I was walking across the quad on Wednesday and saw a girl with long dark hair from behind. My stomach did this stupid little flip before I realized it wasn’t her. Or when I was at the gym and some quiet song came on the speakers, reminding me of that slow dance where everything else at the party had faded away.

Annoying as hell.

I told myself it was just the guilt f*****g with my head. First time s**t always complicated things. Once I got laid enough times, it would fade. That’s how it worked. Always had.

Saturday night rolled around and I was back at it. Another party, different house this time, music thumping so hard the walls vibrated. I had a red cup in my hand, half-empty, already feeling that familiar buzz. A cute redhead was laughing at something I said, pressed up close, her hand sliding down my chest.

This was it. This was the reset button.

We ended up in one of the bedrooms upstairs not even an hour later. Clothes came off fast. She was loud, enthusiastic, riding me like she was trying to win a competition. I gripped her hips, thrusting up to meet her, losing myself in the heat and the moans and the way her t**s bounced. Perfect. No hesitation. No asking me to go slow. Just raw, simple f*****g.

When we finished I didn’t even stay to catch my breath. I pulled on my pants, gave her a wink, and headed back downstairs for another drink.

See? Easy. This was my life. This was what I was good at.

But later that night, back in my apartment, the buzz wearing off, I found myself staring at the ceiling again. The redhead had been hot. The blowjob girl earlier in the week had been skilled. None of it stuck the way that one quiet night had.

I grabbed my phone, thumb hovering over the search bar. I could look her up. Sienna. Probably not that many on campus. Ask around the guys who were at the party. It wouldn’t be hard.

Instead I tossed the phone across the room onto the couch.

“f**k this,” I muttered to the empty apartment.

Liam Hart didn’t chase. He didn’t get hung up on one random girl who gave him a guilty conscience. One drunken night. That was all it was supposed to be. A blip. A story I’d laugh about eventually.

I rolled over and closed my eyes, forcing the thoughts away.

Monday would bring another week. Another party. Another girl.

And eventually, Sienna would just be a memory. A weird, messy one. Nothing more.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself.