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5 Ways to Make Masturbation Even Better

September 29, 2011

12 Comments

photo via flickr

EMandLO.com contributor Jewely Hoxie, who is studying Human Sexuality at the University of California Santa Cruz — you can read her blog here — has a confession to make:

I think we can all agree now that plenty of women enjoy masturbation at least as much as men. But the way women enjoy masturbation can vary widely — and many need a bit of extra help getting themselves in the mood. I like to think that my masturbation dates deserve just as much seduction as my partner explorations. So here are my 5 suggestions for fashioning an unforgettable night in with yourself:

  1. Mood Music. I have an iTunes playlist covertly entitled ‘rr’ for rabbit rock (named after my rabbit vibrator, naturally). Every time I find a song that would be a good romp session anthem, I add it to my self-loving rr soundtrack. This is also fun because later when you hear one of the songs — at a party, say, or in the supermarket — you are reminded of those same tingles you felt before and it becomes a private inside joke with yourself.
  2. A good sex toy. I have become a kind of connoisseur of sex toys over the years and have found that a quality vibrator will always do the trick. I am a firm believer that one size (and shape) does not fit all when it comes to sex toys, so it’s up to you to find what you like. Experiment and explore. You and your sex toy will make for the ultimate tryst.
  3. Fantasy fucking. Sometimes I will turn to porn, sometimes music, but when all else fails, a wild fantasy can never do me wrong. Our brains are one of the most powerful sex organs and masturbation is the best way to exercise our creativity. Try to stay conscious of the things that turn you on throughout the day in order to better discover your own sexual appetite and use it as material for a future self love session.
  4. The freedom to be loud. My usual go-to noise canceling option is to have my vibrator under the sheets and to breathe my heavy breaths into a pillow. However, once I get to know my roommate’s class or work schedules, I find myself enjoying more home-alone time. When you don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing (or walking in on) your bliss and buzz noises, you can let yourself go and ultimately feel your orgasm much bigger and better.
  5. Tuning in to yourself. This is a little more abstract compared to the rest and probably much more vital. I close my eyes and take full breaths. I make sure to be very conscious of every part of my body. It’s important to be completely engaged by all your senses. What do your sheets feel like? What does your skin feel like? (Moisturize with sensual lotions if your answer is “scaly.”) What can you smell? (Light some candles if your answer to that question isn’t pleasant.) What does your breathing sound like? And so on. Remember that loving your body, physically and emotionally, is key to getting pleasure from it.

– Jewely Hoxie



Confession: 10 Reasons Why I Like Shower Sex

September 15, 2011

1 Comment

photo via flickr

EMandLO.com contributor Jewely Hoxie, who is studying Human Sexuality at the University of California Santa Cruz — you can read her blog here — has a confession to make:

I am a total believer in water as a form of therapy. It relaxes me like nothing else, which is why I decided to make the shower the first place I ever masturbated, way back when. So I think, why not bring my partner into that space every now and then too? Being in my partner’s arms under the hot shower head is one of the warmest and most intimate moments I know. And so, for all the shower sex haters out there (ahem, including right on this site), here are my top 10 reasons why shower sex is affectionate, practical, and hot. No, really.

  1. The shower is the only place where you can use the shower head as a sex toy.
  2. It’s good to mix things up — the shower is a new place to do it, and, unlike a hotel room, it’s free.
  3. Got roommates? The running water of the shower disguises your glory moans.
  4. Even when things are getting dirty, the shower keeps everything clean. It’s much easier to wash off that pearl necklace when the water is already running.
  5. Speaking of being clean, can you say butt play? (Just remember to bring along silicone lube for anything more hardcore than a pinkie or tongue poke.)
  6. Also: period sex!
  7. You’re already naked, why not get down to business?
  8. Washing your partner’s body makes for awesome foreplay.
  9. Being completely naked with your partner lets you really see each other. You get the chance to appreciate each other’s bodies without mood lighting or lingerie. Sounds scary, but once you’ve done it you’ll be glad you did.
  10. All that literal steam can make things feel extra steamy.

– Jewely Hoxie



Confession: A Taste of One’s Own

September 1, 2011

31 Comments

Max, one of our Wise Guys, has a confession to make:

Ladies, face it: After a blow job, your average man would like you to swallow his seed, plain and simple. Whether that’s because of pride, practicality or a penchant for raunchiness may vary from guy to guy, but a lover’s choice of spitting over swallowing is something that almost all men take quite personally. Do we taste that bad? Do we disgust you? Aren’t you into us?

I was not surprised then when I recently heard a chef at my restaurant bemoaning the fact that his lady, despite her willingness to perform certain acts, would not ingest the spoils of her apparent victory. The cook simply could not understand why she wouldn’t swallow it after it had already been in her mouth.

Now, most men who work in a kitchen have a high tolerance for all that is salacious, perverted, even gross — much higher than your average citizen. So it was natural then for me to wonder whether my disgruntled chef had himself tasted his own “love juice.” After all, if he objected to a woman not devouring something that he produced (a touchy subject for any chef), he himself must have been brave enough to taste test all that came out of his kitchen.

“Have you ever tasted your own?” I asked.

For the first time in any kitchen that I’ve ever worked, everyone went silent. They stared at me, their faces contorted in disgust. I saw then that, even if any of them had, their homophobic instincts would not allow them to admit that they had tasted any man’s semen, even if it was just their own.

I, on the other hand, had to come clean. I told them that not only had I tasted my own, but that it was not, in fact, all that bad. I suggested that maybe they should do the same before they started preaching the virtues of swallowing over the sins of spitting. (I also briefly considered highlighting the fact that the taste of one’s semen is dictated by one’s diet and that, in light of the sheer amount of junk food and booze the majority of them consumed daily, their sexual partners might have had good reason to spit; but I decided this blow was literally below the belt). They, in turn, have decided that I am far stranger than they had originally thought and, since I beat them at their own game of sexual one-upmanship, treat me with a bit more respect than before.

Still, the fact that most men are uncomfortable even discussing the idea of tasting their own ejaculate amuses and confuses me. I’ve heard those same cooks obsess over the joys of anal sex, “doing” women on their periods, and having their girlfriends slip a finger in their bums during a blow job, and yet something so standard as their own come is too much for them? Isn’t the idea of feces and menstrual blood a bit more concerning?

Gentlemen, face it: we are being ignorant. We can’t handle the heat and yet we practically live in the kitchen. It’s time to try new things. I know this might be hard to swallow, but every woman who has gone down on you has gotten a taste, and I think that it is now up to us to share the load.



Confession: Losing Your Virginity Ain’t No Big Thang

August 18, 2011

1 Comment

photo by mccun934

A college friend of ours who wishes to remain nameless has a confession to make:

As a 21-year-old virgin I thought sex was going to be the most overwhelming, painful, awkward, terrible, awful experience ever.  Why did I think this?  Because friends, magazines, and blogs all over the place said so. Not so! Yes, cashing in your V-card is a big deal: your first experience can set the tone for how you approach and engage in sex for years to come. Which is exactly why you shouldn’t stress and fret about the impending deed for weeks or months (or even years!) beforehand like my boyfriend and I did. If you follow these 10 prep rules, then when you’re ready, you can relax and just do it:

  1. Make sure you’re with a partner that you trust completely. If you’re in love, great! But even more important than true wuv is trust. This comes from knowing your partner well and having a history of caring for and about one another.
  2. Admit it’s your first time. Because if you don’t, then you’ll be distracted with acting experienced, you’ll feel like you’re going through your first time alone (ironically), and you won’t give your partner the chance to make it special, memorable or comfortable (see #10).
  3. Share your expectations with each other. I sat down and told my boyfriend exactly what I wanted from the first night: Passion, Trust, Ability to Laugh at Ourselves/Not Take Ourselves too Seriously, Most of the Day Together Afterwards. Your list, your partner’s list  – they might be totally different. The point is just to make a list and then share it.
  4. Get your protection lined up beforehand. You don’t want to find yourself in the moment without a safety net. There are TONS of options out there, but your go-to will probably be condoms since they provide some decent STD-protection and quite good pregnancy prevention. Even better if you double-up with a back-up form of birth-control (like the Pill). I highly recommend using a lubricated condom for your first time — since it makes everything much smoother and lovely-feeling! One thing that no-one warned me about: the rubbery smell of the condom will be noticeable. It bothered me a lot the first couple of times, and I still notice it, but now I just think of it as ‘The Smell of PROTECTION!’
  5. Speak up in the moment. When it comes to sex for the first time, there’s no such thing as oversharing. The night we did it, my boyfriend knew what was going on in my mind the entire time because I told him how I was feeling and asked him for exactly what I needed. This communicating made us feel connected and confident about the new things we were trying together.
  6. On that note: Even if you think it’s a stupid question – ask! I was wondering a bazillion things before I first had sex. For some reason I wanted to know how many girls my boyfriend had been with before me and if any of them had been virgins too; during sex I wanted to ask about what he was thinking, if I was angling my hips right, if he could feel the kegels I had been practicing, if he thought my waxing job was nice – all these crazy, random thoughts! Well, just ask. Wondering will only distract you.
  7. Be sensitive to your partner’s concerns. Whether they’re a virgin or not, they’ve got plenty too. I had thought only I, the naive virgin, would be nervous about sex – but it turns out that my boyfriend was even more nervous than I was! He was worried about everything from making the evening really nice for me, to his own (very unnecessary) worries about performance, to where to best place the condom for easy and fast access.
  8. It’s okay if you laugh! No one warns you about the fact that sweaty bodies in the act of sex can make a myriad of hilarious noises. My boobs, when pressed up against my boyfriend’s chest, can create a rather epic fart noise! The first time it happened I just stared up at my boyfriend in horror, but he started laughing so hard and was so totally un-phased that I realized that weird stuff can happen and it doesn’t have to lessen the awesomeness that is sex!
  9. Lower your expectations. It’s kinda like your 16th birthday, when you thought everything was going to drastically change and magically improve when you got your license and officially became a young adult. Didn’t happen, right? At least not overnight. Same thing here: I honestly thought that as soon as we had sex my relationship with my boyfriend would change in some drastic way, I would become more mature, the sky would be bluer and the flowers would smell sweeter. Nope! My boyfriend and I are much closer now because of how intimate we’ve become, but this change wasn’t drastic and it didn’t happen overnight.
  10. Help the sex feel great. I know, I know, every other personal essay you’ve encountered has been a horror story of pain and dissatisfaction. But I’m living proof it doesn’t have to be that way! In addition to adhering to all the above rules, Em & Lo recommend the following: make sure you are turned on and well lubed (purpose-made lubricant can help), engage in lots of foreplay, and go slowly (not like gangbusters!). Special considerations for the ladies: make sure you’ve had experience with penetration before (be it with fingers or toys), get some manual or oral sex immediately before the big event, even have an orgasm right before to help make sure you’re physically ready.


Confession: Top 10 Ways I Disguise Love Noises

August 4, 2011

2 Comments

photo via Flickr

A college-student contributor friend of ours, who wishes to remain anonymous, confesses her favorite ways to keep things under wraps, aurally speaking:

One of my favorite quotes of all time is an uncharacteristically understated gem of advice from Kurt Vonnegut: “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.’” I try to live in keeping with this counsel and to overtly express my gratitude and joy when I’m experiencing it. At every possible opportunity. Full disclosure: I’m kind of a loud lover, of myself and of others. Being discreet in between the sheets just doesn’t come naturally to me; it feels somehow unappreciative of partner, of joy, and of sensation. That said, my audibility is often somewhat, well, unappreciative of my neighbors or circumstances. Parents’ houses, thin-walled apartments, and shoddilly constructed dorm rooms are no place for particularly audible ecstasy, stubbornly squeaky bedsprings, or especially sonic vibrations. Consequently, I have had ample opportunity to work out what works best to mask the noises, exclamations, and murmurs of my love life. I offer you the ten best:

  1. A fan. While this won’t mask high-decibel screams, exclamations, or demands, it does a damn good job of creating enough white noise to obscure the buzz of sex toys, low-key passionate moans/groans, and exclamations at a conversational volume. Bonus: this doubles as an anti-sweat measure for sweltering summer sex.
  2. Music. Cranking some tunes lends itself to a bit more wiggle room, especially if it’s uptempo and a little too loud to be considered neighbor-considerate. I maintain that this approach is more considerate, though, than involving an unintentional third (or second) party in your love life. However, music choice becomes especially important in this circumstance. I was once stopped in my mid-coitus tracks by the unfortunate appearance of the Mexican Hat Dance on my iTunes shuffle. Never have I encountered a more effective cock-block. We actually had to stop and resume action a few hours later.
  3. Strategic Timing. I have been guilty of timing my me-time and my us-time in accordance with the schedule of particularly loud construction crews, a neighbor’s drum circle practice, and especially loud weed-whacking (which, incidentally, lent itself nicely to masturbatory euphemism).
  4. Shower. Water on tile makes a great deal of noise. About the same noise-coverage capabilities as a fan, but with the added benefit of shower sex!
  5. Loud Television. Similar in use to loud music, with the same caveats. Choice is crucial. Sesame Street and South Park have yielded similar fates as the Mexican Hat Dance. And nothing gets you to a blue-balled state faster than singing puppets or jaded animations.
  6. Create a Plausible Alternate Explanation. I once wrote a note to my housemates letting them know that I was watching porn for a sociology paper about visual representations of sexuality. I then closed my door, popped in my favorite sex tape, and let the scripted screams of partnered rapture mask my own. This also allowed me to watch porn without headphones on for the first time in months. Thank you, academia.
  7. A Gag. One of my faves. This sex accessory lets me indulge my kinkier proclivities while I try to be as loud as I want. The struggle is a turn on, there’s something else acting as a muffler, and no one’s any the wiser. Epic win.
  8. Silent Sex. On occasion, challenging my boyfriend to see who can be most silent during sex has worked out quite well. I can find the requisite motivation only in situations where it’s IMPERATIVE to be quiet (i.e. in the room next door to my parents over Christmas break). But the competitive edge and power play are both quite fun. Having sex in a situation that requires that level of silence implies a level of risk that’s pretty thrilling, too.
  9. Comforters. Swathing love sounds in cushy bedclothes works quite well. Pitching a tent in bed has meant more to me than waking up to morning wood. Indeed, throwing a pillow over my lap while employing my trusty vibrating friend or ducking under a comforter cocoon to stage-whisper sweet (and not-so-sweet) nothings to my bed buddy have proven helpful in a pinch.
  10. Just Do It. You know what? Sometimes, you just need to express yourself. Sometimes, quiet sex just doesn’t cut it. Sometimes, you just have to say fuck it and get lost in the moment instead of over-cautious concern. This approach requires some strategic timing and moderation — after all, screaming “Give me more!” while Grandma’s just a thin wall away is ill-advised, and loudly indulging your Rabbit Habit and awakening your slumbering hallmates is just plain douchey. But sometimes, a mid-afternoon romp in a sparsely populated dorm is worthy of Vonnegut-esque acknowledgement.


Confession: Top 10 Reasons I Don’t Own a Razor

July 21, 2011

25 Comments

photo by Flickr

Our contributor Abby Spector, who is majoring in Feminine/Gender/Sexuality Studies at Wesleyan University, confesses her love for body hair:

I am not going to judge silky-smooth-shaved ladies. But here are ten reasons I do NOT own a razor And yes, this means legs, vag, and — gasp — armpit hair.

  1. Why should I? I don’t like razor burn or the spiky feeling of leg hairs emerging from dry skin.
  2. In many ways, I look like the “typical” American girl. I am an average size, have blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile when I’m nervous. There are few ways I can subtly show my rebellious side. I have discovered that a flash of armpit hair does the trick.
  3. I’ll pass on disrupting the natural course of my body, thank you very much.
  4. My sister and mom, two of the most beautiful people I know, do not shave. Actually, I didn’t know it was a custom until I got to middle school and my friend insisted that we (she) shave my peach fuzz legs.
  5. I’m LAZY!
  6. The first guy I slept with told me I had to shave or else he wouldn’t go down on me. I hate him. My bushy bush is my way of laughing in his face.
  7. My current boyfriend doesn’t mind. Why should he? He isn’t exactly bare down there, either.
  8. Sharp objects always seem to cut me. Thus, placing one near my vag could lead to a very unfortunate injury. I want to keep my clit intact.
  9. I am bisexual. The armpit hair works like a calling card to the lesbian community.
  10. Everyone loves Northern Europeans. Historically, this hot community doesn’t shave. I want to be as Swedish as possible.

Abby Spector



Confession: Top 10 Things I Learned from an Anti-Condom Boyfriend

July 8, 2011

5 Comments

photo by Jenny Lee Silver

A college-student contributor friend of ours, who wishes to remain anonymous, has a confession to make:

I came into college and out of my first relationship ready to be single and to enjoy my new-found singledom with as many new people as possible. Generally, things went pretty well for me. I really enjoyed the free time afforded me by not being in a relationship, and I had some extremely enjoyable casual encounters. A few months in, I found myself involved with a guy who I was interested in both as a fling and as a person. Thus, I entered my first non-relationship, more than a one-night stand.

I felt pretty ready to navigate the friends-with-benefits waters: I didn’t want to date him, but I enjoyed his company, had practice negotiating sex with non-boyfriends, and was really enticed by the possibility of getting some with some degree of regularity. As time went by, it became increasingly clear that he was pretty startlingly anti-birth control, or at least anti-birth control that he needed to have anything to do with.

I managed to hang in there and put off P.I.V. for weeks — meanwhile, his excuse of “I’m allergic to latex” morphed into “non-latex condoms don’t fit me” to “I won’t come inside you” to “female condoms are gross” before he started pressuring me to go on the pill. Which I can’t. Because I’m allergic to manufactured estrogen. Despite this guy’s douchebaggery — yes, reader, I did dump him eventually — I managed to walk away from this non-relationship with a few crucial lessons under my belt.

1. Sex ed is powerful. My past experience of real, comprehensive, and sensitive sex ed armed me with an arsenal of options to throw at him. I knew the stats behind pulling out — especially as they relate to inebriated, douchebaggy college students. I was well acquainted with every barrier method and each of their pros and cons. And, most importantly, I knew not to just “pull and pray.”

2. Any man who’s willing to say “female condoms are gross” without trying them might very well be sitting on some serious feelings about female anatomy itself being pretty gross. At least this one seemed to be.

3. Google is powerful. Okay, Mr. “I’m too big for a PVC condom.” No, you aren’t.

4. Patterns of excuses given without any attempt to find a solution = one giant suspicious red flag. I was putting more effort into this issue with a simple Google search than he ever seemed to. And that, for sure, is something I should have paid attention to.

5. Just because a guy is progressive and talks a big talk about sexuality doesn’t mean he’s gonna be all that sensitive. Prior to this, I had thought that screening for verbal sexuality-sensitivity was the perfect way to screen adventurous and understanding partners. Goodbye notions of litmus test infallibility.

6. “Don’t you trust me to not come inside of you?” = NOT trustworthy.

7. Hormones are persuasive buggers. Had he made even half of his oh-so-helpful suggestions over dinner or an innocent game of badminton, I would likely have rolled my eyes and left him on the spot. However, in the sweaty and dimly lit context of my bed at 3 a.m., my amped up libido and incredible desire for a predictable lay made his arguments seem significantly less annoying.

8. Tenacity is satisfying. Alright, so I could (should) have dumped his sorry ass earlier. Womp. To repeatedly field his pressuring and negate his increasingly weak excuses, though, actually felt awesome. I was in control, even if I was miffed with his juvenile refusal to take responsibility.

9. I deserve way better than this. I had really good boundaries in my romantic relationships (I am communicative to a fault about my expectations). I had really great boundaries with entirely casual acquaintances (“You’ll either be putting on that condom or waving goodbye to the promise of the awesome blowjob heading your way”). I think I needed to be really, awfully embroiled in the F.W.B. gray area in order to wake up and realize that I had both the right and the need to assert my boundaries and expectations, and to walk away when they were pushed or not met.

10. It can — and should — go way better than this. This guy’s incredible stupidity made the next, respectful, fun, and easygoing guy seem that much better. Moreover, it made me that much more sensitive to early signs of sexual doucheyness, birth-control related and otherwise. Ultimately, now that I know I possess the artillery to deal with this situation, it’s great to know that with the right guy, I don’t have to.



Confession: Top 10 Worst Things About Studying Sexuality in College

June 23, 2011

7 Comments

photo by krossbow

Our contributor Abby Spector, who is majoring in Feminist/Gender/Sexuality Studies at Wesleyan University, confesses the downside of her chosen field:

  1. Picture this: it’s a Sunday night. You’re lonely. However, instead of watching romantic comedies and listening to Joni Mitchell, you have to read about the beauty of the female orgasm. Reading about great sex is not comforting when you are sad and horny.
  2. If you’re a writer, you are bound to write about your sexual experiences. Most of the time these experiences include a second (or third or fourth) party. Pseudonyms can only go so far. They might read it. For better or worse, the honest truth gets out.
  3. Sex loses its sexiness. It’s like Christmas every day. The secret, rebellious allure of sex can disappear when it’s all you read about.
  4. “Hi, Grammy! I’m studying sex. Aren’t you proud?” Awkward.
  5. Just because I study sex does not mean I have it or want it all the time. My work does not mean I am promiscuous or excellent in bed. So stop thinking this!
  6. “So what are you going to do with a degree in sexuality?” I hear this question at least twice a week. I usually respond with a joke, but in all honesty, I have no idea.
  7. You are not always in the mood for controversial subject matter. Sometimes you want simple answers. For better or worse, this is not offered in sex studies.
  8. Flirtation, dating, and sex have the potential to be viewed as an anthropological study rather than day-to-day life.
  9. Carrie Bradshaw made money, but she was a fictional TV character. A degree in sex studies does not guarantee you a fab NY studio apartment, Mr. Big, or a lifetime supply of Manolo Blahniks.
  10. Keep writing away from parents! I repeat: Keep writing away from parents! Fathers do not like hearing explicit details of their daughter’s first blowjob.

Abby Spector



Confession: Top 10 Date Activities I Enjoy Solo

June 9, 2011

3 Comments

photo by paulisnat (nudity not required for most solo date activities)

Our contributor Abby Spector, who is majoring in Feminine/Gender/Sexuality Studies at Wesleyan University, confesses her love for the table for one:

People are impressed if you travel to Africa on your own, but if your solo adventuring is a tad less exotic, they tend to look down on it. It is considered “bizarre” to enjoy typical “date activities” on your own. I am here to teach disbelievers otherwise. I actually like flying solo — so keep your pity and learn some independence. Here are ten of my favorite “date” adventures to enjoy on my own. (Note to readers: all of these adventures are fun with a partner, too. I am just pointing out the benefits of doing them by yourself.)

  1. Orgasms. Sex is great. The sweaty, body-on-body companionship is irreplaceable. However, when it comes to the actual, vaginal orgasm, my vibrator cannot be beat.
  2. Movies. Your choice of flick. Your choice of time. Your choice of seat (no need to crane your neck in the front row because your date forgot his glasses). And best of all, you can pick the quantity of butter on the popcorn.
  3. Sleeping. Sleeping in the same bed as someone is nice. Sweaty, sticky, single-beds are not. Every once in a while it is refreshing to sprawl across the mattress like a cat on Valium.
  4. Restaurants. Feel free to sop up entire bowls of pasta with a piece of bread. Challenge yourself by not bringing a book, computer or newspaper. Enjoy staring at strangers. Watch the child at the next table rub mashed potatos on the walls and be happy you are not responsible of clean up.
  5. TV watching. You can Keep Up with the Kardashians and the rest in the world of shitty television without being berated about how you should be watching something important or educational or artsy instead.
  6. Road Trips. Find your own path WHILE singing Now 6 at the top of your lungs. Best of all, you can take pee breaks every twenty minutes without worrying that you are derailing someone else’s adventure.
  7. Drinking wine. It might sound sad (or alcoholic) but a glass (or bottle) on your own is good for the soul…. every now and then.
  8. Weddings. As much as I enjoy having a plus 1, being on your own at a wedding gives you time to catch up with crazy drunken family members on a personal level.
  9. Biking. It is not a competition if you’re by yourself. (And you don’t have to worry about how your ass looks in your mom’s old neon-pink gym shorts.)
  10. Showering. Okay. I understand that this is not (necessarily) a first date activity. But it happens. Let me tell you — showering by yourself is a luxury. You control temperature, water pressure, and which crevices the bar of soap is allowed to explore. In addition, showers can be small. Slips happen. The idea of sex is appealing, but it doesn’t logistically work unless you enjoy the pain of a sprained ankle.

Abby Spector



Confession: I Attended My Very First Orgy

May 26, 2011

2 Comments

photo by Vacasion

Our contributor Alice Hua, a freshman at the University of Pennsylvania, has a confession to make:

I spontaneously took a bus from Philadelphia to NYC one Friday for a single reason: My friend Lexi was attending an orgy and I wanted to check it out. It was just a college themed party, so at first I blew it off. As a second semester freshman I’d already been to my fair share of frats and house parties and I didn’t think this so called orgy party would be fruitful, or even fun. But Lexi assured me that kids at her school “committed” to these sorts of things, so I admit, my curiosity was piqued.

Casual (but responsible!) sex with strangers has never been taboo to me. While I know there’s a time and place for romantic sex, at this point in my life, I much prefer the no-strings-attached kind. It beats the awkward meeting in class the next day or the weird limbo of expectations that can occur with a friend-with-benefits for whom you suddenly develop feelings. Sure, critics say casual sex is just as awkward when you unexpectedly bump into your one-night stand walking down the street to class, but, hey, that’s what iPods and cell phones were half invented for right? And given the large number of students on my campus, one-night stands with neither expectations nor awkward repercussions are not uncommon. All the same, I’d never actually experienced anything like a party with pure unadulterated sex before.

More than anything, I wanted to see the inner workings of an orgy — I wanted to know what orgy sex looks like. Because while I’m a fan of casual sex, it has to be for the right reason — meaning, for the sake of the sex itself. It can’t be because I’m lonely or hurting or need my self-worth validated by outside sources. I see this kind of casual sex all over my campus — would an orgy be a way to enjoy a purer form of casual sex? Sure, plenty of college parties end in casual sex, but I had never attended a party where the explicit goal was sexual pleasure. Would the party be filled with desperate girls with daddy issues? Annoying frat boys? Or legitimately interesting people who were comfortable with their sexuality?

Getting dressed for the party was the first step. It seemed so simple — you showed up with no clothing, but both Lexi and I agreed that although the rather large bottle of Skyy Vodka we’d been sharing was almost empty, we hadn’t lost enough inhibitions yet to step through the door in the nude.

The invitation stated that a shot would be required for every article of clothing one decided to wear to the party. Clearly if we still had our inhibitions now, they wouldn’t be an issue inside the party. We briefly flirted with the cliché idea of wearing trench coats over lingerie, but finally settled on wearing street clothes over our lingerie and making the final decision on whether or not to get naked at the door of the party.

The amount of alcohol present and the pressure to drink was a bit disconcerting. I’m sure at a more legitimate orgy party, the free flow of booze would have been frowned upon. Consent is absolutely key in any sort of sexual behavior and an orgy party is no different. But no one was so incapacitated to my knowledge that they no longer knew what they were doing.

Once inside the party house, I had to laugh. It looked like a teenager’s interpretation of a cheesy strip club: the lights were dimmed and covered with red Saran wrap, so a red glow covered the room. We took our prerequisite shots at the door and then entered. The walls were covered with printed-out tips on how to perform the most outrageous sex positions, probably only realistic for yoga teachers or Olympic gymnasts. Read the rest of this entry »