Tuesday, 17 August 2010

• Bathroom Sex: Risky and Passionate, or Just Plain Gross?

  
  Last weekend, I went to my best friend's sister's wedding in New England. It was fantastic-- I had my faith in marriage restored, I got to pick wildflowers and bake pies (thus fulfilling my girlie quota for the month), and, most importantly, I got to spend the weekend with my best friend. I'm quite close to her whole family: her cousin was my best friend in high school, and his brother was my high school boyfriend. Needless to say, I spent the weekend doing little else than basking in friendship and shooting glances at my ex.
  
  Our relationship wasn't fantastic-- we're clearly not meant to be together. Still, that doesn't mean that I'm not still attracted to him. I mean, damn. He's extremely good-looking and charming. I really can't help myself. Naturally, there was no way I was going to let my ex know that he still made me weak at the knees: he's so cocky that I wasn't going to dare give him that satisfaction.
  
  Of course, I still managed to imply that my feelings for him remained by practically forcing him to dance with me. You see, he's the sort of boy that generally eschews all sorts of lively activity. So, being my obnoxious and pushy, yet quite fun self, I pulled him out onto the dance floor and placed his hands around my waist. We swayed, hips apart, like middle school sweethearts. I grinned at him. "See, this isn't so bad, now is it?" He smirked. "How is this fun, anyway? We're just... swaying!" I lifted his hand up above his head and spun him. "Now we're twirling." He chuckled in spite of himself, and held me closer. I felt his mom, who spends all of her free time attempting to force us into marriage, swell with delight.
  
  I knew that we weren't going to rekindle our relationship, since we now live on opposite sides of the country, but I was having fun with him, and more importantly, I hadn't had a good romp in the hay in quite a while, and mama needed it bad...
  
  Despite our relationship having its short-comings, it was certainly fabulous for my physical cravings-- he never lacked the energy to have a tumble, and I was so attracted to him (sigh... still am so attracted to him) that I never tired of his endless desire to go at it. So, reeling in the memory of our former togetherness, I whispered, far from his mother's hearing range, "We need to find some place to be alone." And he replied simply, "True." I grinned.
  
  Later that night, I wandered around our hotel to find some place that was devoid of any of his family members. There were shockingly few Aunt-free areas. Then, I stumbled upon the hotel lobby bathroom. Man. Was I really that desperate? I thought for approximately six milliseconds and texted him: Hotel lobby bathroom? He arrived as fast as his legs would allow, and sidled into the bathroom. I gave the area a quick, obvious sweep, and ducked into the bathroom, resisting my temptation to do a James Bond-esque somersault.
  
  He lifted me up onto the counter (thank God there was a counter) and pressed his lips to mine. I shivered with happiness and nostalgia: it had been so long since I had felt his particular sort of kiss, soft, yet a little dry. Our passion was brief and quiet, but man, was it great. We silently put our clothes back on and waited for the noise outside to die down so that we could make our respective escapes. Time lagged on. I whispered, "Well... I guess we could cuddle..." We laughed. It was then that I realized that there's something really special about our ability to have that sort of tryst: no complications, no hurt feelings, just happiness and quick release.
  
  Of course, every great story of mine inevitably has an awkward ending. After the hubbub died down, he kissed me on the cheek, smiled, and left. I walked out shortly after, only to find one of his Aunts staring at us. She had clearly seen us both exit the bathroom. There was just nothing appropriate to say. She continued to stare at me as I walked quickly past, as if I could outrun her judgment, and as I passed, she winked at me. Dear lord.
  
  Other than that brief hiccup, my experience with public bathroom sex was a fantastic one. However, I know that many of my ex boyfriends have completely dismissed the idea, claiming that sex anywhere but the bedroom is gross.
  
   Have you guys had any similar experiences? Or are you like me, and delight in having sex just about anywhere?

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