Bedroom Briefs

By Virginia Johnson

I spotted my Proctor crush across the dance floor. We had met early in the year, but had rarely spoken since. I had stared at him while he picked choice tomatoes from the salad bar and as he drank tea from a glass. Never a mug. Upon catching my eye, he walked over and slid behind me. We began swaying erotically to the music.

While the room literally fogged with the condensation of horny college student sweat, our activities also grew steamy, as I pushed him against the wall and we danced face to face. He grazed my neck with his tongue and lips, occasionally nibbling on my ear. We gyrated in unison.

I felt pleased that I had finally taken this “relationship” to the next level, transforming an acquaintance into a potential lover.

As I enjoyed the adrenaline and arousal coursing through my veins I wondered what the rest of the evening would hold, contemplating taking him back to my room. As I considered the possibility, he leaned down and whispered in my ear.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

At first, I chided him for having forgotten. I reminded him of past conversations we had enjoyed and where we had met. He looked at me blankly. Slowly, I came to the realization that he had not misplaced my name. He truly thought that we had never met.

As this epiphany dawned, I pushed him away. I felt repulsed that he had danced so erotically with someone who he perceived to be a total stranger.

My disgust grimaced my face as I left the party, and it didn’t wear off for weeks. In retrospect, however, my actions mirrored his. I remembered his name, but I hardly knew him. We had established no level of intimacy or even comfort between ourselves. In any other context, our dancing habits would have suggested sensuality, intimacy, perhaps even love. But on a college campus, we were merely dancing.

When I discovered that my Proctor-crush-turned-dance-date viewed me merely as a nameless partner in lust, I felt dismayed. That night, we both chose the security of a dark room, loud music and a crowd of strangers over the development of intimacy.

Perhaps some people view sex with strangers as evidence of liberation. I view it as a lost opportunity. Sex is fun almost any way you do it, but so much of the power and pleasure of sex comes from connection with a partner. I only truly feel comfortable asking for what I want with someone I know.

It’s hard to suggest to a stranger that he change his angle or perhaps consider using his tongue less like a battering ram. To get what you want in bed, you need to get to know your lover. When I know the guy with whom I am naked, my exposure is fun, exhilarating, not violating. Sex is the ultimate form of communication and honesty. We cannot expect to fulfill its potential with strangers.

Our campus overflows with sexual tension and one-night stands. Under the influence of crowd mentality, cheap liquor and high hormonal levels, sex often enters the public sphere and seems to exist solely as a casual pastime. Our communal decision to bring sex into public and our reluctance to pursue anything more than a single night of lust evidences our discomfort with true intimacy.

Ultimately, I hope the ideas in my column get you laid and help you have fun while you do it. By speaking openly about sex, this column can also motivate our quest for communication, honesty and intimacy.