I love sex while I’m in a relationship. I also love casual sex. I also love one night stands. I don’t necessarily have a favorite, but for the time being I’m caught between casual sex and one night stands so let’s start with the latter. First off, it’s important to address the where. If you meet a guy, do you take him home, or do you go home with him? I know women who won’t go home with a guy because they feel out of control, and I also know women who won’t let men come home with them because they don’t want to up the intimacy level of “oh, when you peek in my bathroom drawers for mouthwash don’t mind the super plus sized tampons.” Point is, find out what makes you comfortable and then go from there.
My first one night stand here at ND was one of the most random encounters ever. I’d gone to Five Guys with a friend after a night of heavy drinking when I saw his guy, a little shorter than me, but covered in tattoos and wearing a muscle shirt. A better way to describe him would be a South Bend Snooki gorilla type (yes, I was going through a phase). I walk straight up to this guy and go “Hey, you’re really hot.” And walk away. If I was sober it wouldn’t have happened, I’m usually more subtly aggressive. He was shell shocked, and I left the restaurant and that was that. Flash forward to two weeks later. I’m at a bar and I see this guy again. Yes! It’s a sign! I ignore him all night even though I know he’s staring at me trying to remember where he knows me from. As soon as the bartender makes last call, I beeline towards this guy, lean in close, and whisper, “Wanna get out of here?” Yes, I’m the most creative human when it comes to pick up lines. He nods. That’s all. No verbal answer. We take a cab back to my place, and the music is blaring so we barely talk. Small talk about the weather, and we get inside and have the wildest, hottest, throw me against the wall, loudest, most passionate sex I have ever experienced. And then we fell asleep and he snored so loud my neighbour texted me to “keep my male guest under control” and then we woke up the next morning and he asked me to breakfast.
Without so much as lifting my head off the pillow I replied with “No thanks, Dave. I’m busy.” He gathered his things in a huff and before slamming the door passive aggressively reminded me that his name was Mike. Whatever.
I’m not trying to sound like I do this every weekend. I’ve had maybe three more experiences like this one during my college career. I wouldn’t suggest making a habit out of it, but it can be fun and oddly enough, very empowering. It’s not about teaching the male species a lesson or being an unconventional feminist. But there is something relaxing about have sex without putting any pressure on the situation whatsoever. And if you can get over the lack of emotional attachment, it’s always a fun time.
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