Nina was twenty-one, an Auburn cheerleader, blonde ponytail, the kind of ass that made the Saturday crowd go quiet when she turned around on the sideline. Thornton was twenty-two, a senior who sat too far up in Jordan-Hare and still managed to find her in every formation. They had never spoken. That was the point of the night they finally did.
It started off-campus, a rented house past Magnolia, the kind of party Auburn pretended didn’t exist. Someone had cut a hole in a closet door and called it a joke. Red lipstick ring. A sign that said DON’T ASK. Nina went in on a dare, still in the tiny practice skirt, white panties already damp from dancing. She didn’t plan on staying. Then a cock slid through the hole, thick, polite in the worst way, waiting.
She sucked it because the room on the other side was quiet and the dare was still hanging in the air. She pulled her panties to the side and backed up and sat on it, just the head, just to feel it, ass pressed to wood. The man behind the door groaned like he’d been kicked. Nina smiled at the paint and rode the hole until her thighs shook. When she pulled off, she left a smear of herself on the frame and walked out without looking at anyone.
Thornton came out of the other closet two minutes later, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist even though she hadn’t kissed him. He knew the ponytail. He knew the ankle tape. He found her by the keg.
“You’re the hole,” he said.
Nina looked him up and down. “You’re the cock.”
They didn’t exchange majors. They exchanged an Uber to his apartment near campus because her roommate had a boyfriend on the futon. One night stand. That was the agreement in the hallway. Then they were in his bed and the agreement got stupid.
Nina didn’t want missionary. She wanted his face. She peeled the white panties off, put them in his mouth first, then climbed up and sat. Full weight. Warm ass on his mouth, cheerleader thighs bracketing his ears. Thornton’s hands came up like he was going to lift her and then he didn’t. He worshipped. Tongue flat on her hole, nose crushed to her cunt, breathing her. Nina held the headboard and ground down until his jaw ached.
“That’s it. Don’t talk. Eat.”
He ate. She came on his face with her fists in his hair and her ass still covering him. When she lifted up, a string of spit connected his mouth to her. She turned around and sat again, this time facing his cock, ass in his face, and told him to kiss it like he meant it. Thornton spread her cheeks and did. Slow. Filthy. The kind of ass worship that isn’t a joke. He licked her open and she sucked him sloppy and when she was ready she sank down on his cock facing away so he could keep his mouth on her ass while she rode.
They fucked like that until the bedframe knocked the wall. Nina’s cheer skirt was still around her waist. Thornton held her hips and let her use him. When he got close she squeezed and said, “In. Don’t you dare pull out.”
Breeding wasn’t a conversation. It was a sentence. He came deep, pulsing, and she sat there full, ass still in his hands, and laughed once, breathless.
“One night stand,” she said. “You’re leaking out of me.”
They slept in the same bed because it was three in the morning and Auburn taxis were a myth. Nina stole his shirt. Her panties stayed on the nightstand, inside-out, wrecked. In the dark she threw a leg over him and his cock woke up against her ass and she reached back and put him in again, half-asleep, slow, like the hole in the door had followed them home. He finished in her a second time before dawn.
Morning should have been goodbye. Instead Nina said Chewacla. Lake. Canoe. She still smelled like him.
They rented a two-seater because the park didn’t ask questions. Nina wore the same white panties under cutoff shorts and a cropped Auburn tee. Midday sun. Cypress and red dirt. Thornton paddled. Nina sat in front, then got bored, then turned around and told him to hold the paddle still.
On the water, she stripped the shorts. Panties stayed. She climbed into his end of the canoe like it was his lap in the apartment. The boat rocked. Nina faced him, knees wide, and pulled the panties aside. His cock was already out. She sat on it in the middle of the lake, slow, biting his shoulder so she wouldn’t yell. Facesitting wasn’t possible without flipping them both into the water, so she gave him the next best thing: she stood up carefully, held his hair, and sat on his face over the bench seat, ass and cunt sealing his mouth while the canoe drifted.
“Worship it. If we flip, you still don’t stop.”
They didn’t flip. Thornton’s tongue worked her asshole and her clit in turns until her thighs shook and she dripped down his chin into the hull. Then she sat back on his cock and told him again. In. Breed. The word sounded insane on a public lake and she said it anyway. He came with his face still shiny and her panties shoved in his fist.
They paddled back sloppy. Nina put the shorts on over the mess. In the parking lot she kissed him for the first time, tasting herself.
That night they shared the bed again. The one night stand had a hangover. Nina put the panties over his eyes and sat on his face until he was hard enough to ruin, then turned and fed him her ass while she whispered Auburn fight-song nonsense that wasn’t a fight song anymore. When he was close she reached between her legs and held him in.
“Glory hole got you this,” she said. “My ass is keeping you.”
He stayed the weekend. Saturday she had a game. Thornton sat where he always sat and watched her ass in the official uniform and thought about the canoe and the closet door and the way she’d said in. After the game she came to his apartment still in the skirt, no speech, just climbed onto the mattress, pulled the panties off, put them in his mouth, and sat.
Full weight. Cheerleader ass. His whole world reduced to wet skin and the seam of her.
She fucked his tongue until she came, then slid back onto his cock and made him finish inside her with her ass in his hands and her ponytail in his fist.
“Still a one night stand,” Nina said, already half-asleep on his chest, his cum leaking onto the sheet. “We’ll fix the definition tomorrow. Bring the canoe.”
They did.
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