Our Crazy College Hookup Tales
While we may not miss early morning classes, soul-less buffet-filled dining halls and Cup ‘O Noodle dinners, crazy roommates, or being piss poor, there are plenty of things we Frisky chicks miss about college. Freedom from the “real world” might just top that list. But coming in at a close second? Just how sexually liberating it was. Ah yeah, all those raging hormones, that freedom from the ‘rents, parties and flexible schedules equals time to explore sexually. That’s not to say our college years were like a big, happy, free-wheeling orgy (we were serious students, thank you very much). But from gettin’ it on in the common area to gettin’ in on with a group of coeds, this back-to-school time of year has us reminiscing about our wild ‘n’ crazy college sexcapades. We divulge
all some of these tales, after the jump.
We were good friends, but there was one annoying thing about my freshman year roommate — how her very presence affected my blooming sex life … even though she had no problem having sex with someone in our room while she thought I was sleeping (that’s another story). I tried to be classier than that. But not classy enough to not hook up with my guy in various public spaces all around campus. What are room-less horny 19-year-olds to do? We tried out several spots in the park by the river, an empty classroom and the lobby in the performing arts building and finally found an unlocked door leading to the roof of the liberal arts building. Score! Under the stars, it was the perfect hookup spot. Students living in the high-rise dorm across the street could definitely see us, but we didn’t care.
During my junior year, one of my journalism classes asked us to shadow a journalist. My friend wrote for a NYC newsweekly at the time, so he asked the editor if I could follow along. The editor at the time was this really cool, un-P.C., take-no-crap-from-anyone guy (who has since become a dear friend). He graciously let me sit in his office for an afternoon and watch him edit, hold meetings handle artwork, etc. He wrote this column called “Losing It” where he interviewed someone about losing their virginity and he asked if I wanted to be the person for the next interview, since I was there. I said sure and told him the story, and of course things got kind of flirtacious from that point on. I asked if he needed any artwork to illustrate the piece and he said they could take a photo of me unless I wanted to offer up one I already had. So I went onto his computer, opened my email, and pulled up naked photos of myself that someone had taken. I asked if one of those would suffice. He said they couldn’t print that, but he really liked them, so I emailed them to him. Of course we hooked up after that — alas, only once before I left for study abroad and then he began traveling around the world for several years. Six years later I cannot believe I showed naked photos of myself to an editor. I was crazy when I was younger.
My freshman year I went to an all-girls college that rhymes with “Mount Holysmoke” before transferring out. My roommate was a little bit crazy and I had very little privacy. The school I went to was very “old-school” and each fancy dorm had a sitting room where they served a weekly afternoon tea (no, for real). I managed to convince this guy to visit me from a neighboring city and we totally wanted to make out, but had nowhere to go. Cue a trip to the well-lit sitting room at 2 in the morning, half naked and tangled in the long drapes. The perfect make-out spot. Not really.
I gave a BJ on my balcony while New York City watched and my roommate slept behind the sliding glass doors. Slut central.
We had these kind of sex party things twice a year at Sarah Lawrence called the Coming Out Dance and Sleaze Ball. At my first Coming Out Dance, my friends and I all put on our best lingerie and tottered over to the dining hall. We made out with our classmates, drank from flasks and danced until we were grossly sweaty. That year, some random dudes had showed up wearing nothing but socks. At an after-party, I ended up making out with one of these guys in a bathroom. Turns out, he was in an Irish band with his brother and while we were hooking up, there were suddenly another pair of hands on me. It was his brother. At first, I was like, ‘wow this is gonna make an awesome story!’ but then I thought about the grossness of it and got out of there. The first brother walked me home and we made out some more in my bed. He talked about how he wanted to take me away to Ireland and was going to call me tomorrow to hang out. The next morning, I googled his band and found out on their blog that the guy I’d been with all night was getting married … that day. I felt pretty gross about it at the time, but how many girls can say they’ve gotten it on with brothers?
I spent my senior year boning (off and on) a guy I was soooo in love with, but who didn’t love me back. I would basically seize any opportunity I could to hook up with him because I never knew when it would happen again. I know, this story is sounding pathetic. Anyway, one night an opportunity came in the form of giving him a blow job in the back seat of my car behind a bar we were hanging out at. But just as he was about to, uh, climax, I heard my friends outside calling my name. I scrambled to get up so they wouldn’t see what we were doing, but my feet got stuck underneath the seat and I couldn’t move. They peered in just as the dude came — in my hair. Ahh memories.
I was a film major in college and as my final project before graduation, I directed a short film. We had a “premiere” the night before graduation for the two films my class produced, followed by a party at my best guy friend’s house for everyone involved in the productions. We all had lots to drink, lots to smoke, etc. One thing led to another and I started making out with this guy in my class. It wasn’t long before we were joined by a girl in our class and for the next hour, the three of us writhed on the sofa, kissing, groping, sticking fingers in different places — all right there in front of everyone else. We didn’t bother to find a secluded spot or even turn the lights down! The big kicker is I had a boyfriend at the time who left the party early. When I saw him the next morning I told him all about it — like it was a fun, exciting tale, and not something I should be ashamed or apologetic about. Luckily, he was kind of a hippie and didn’t really see anything wrong with having a night of fun before a big day like graduation. Ah, college!
At some point my sophomore year, I started sleeping with my roommate. I don’t actually remember how it started, but it was a women’s school and these things just kind of happened. One night while out with another girl in our friend group, we all got very drunk. And for some reason, told her that we’d been having sex. And she was all, “I want in.” So we ended up having an all-girl threesome that night. In the middle, the third girl’s boyfriend actually came knocking on my door looking for her. I didn’t open the door obviously and was all like, “Haven’t seen her. Am kinda busy right now.” He went away but confronted her a few days later and said that he’d walked by my room and heard moaning—and that it sounded like her. This was a one-time thing and amazingly there was no fallout. We all remained good friends throughout college and beyond.
What’s one of your most embarrassing or scandalous hookup stories from college?