And Dido, fated queen, drew out the night

BwogSex is back and steamier than ever with a dispatch from the front lines of roommate run-ins and coed cunnilingus—McBain. Below, a mischievous Moaning Myrtle takes us on a tour of the sordid late night happenings in the already sordid shower stalls. We also want to hear about your Columbia mishaps and multiple orgasms, so send your dirtiest and most disastrous stories anonymously to our sexitor at sex@bwog.com (nude pics optional).

You really start to reconsider your life choices when you find yourself on your knees in the McBain girls’ showers. Especially when it’s with a guy you’ve known for approximately thirty minutes. What was his last (no, first) name, again? I think he’s foreign. Canadian? Am I supposed to remember?

Goddamnit, John Jay. This is one of those “college” things I never became prepared for after spending all of my freshman year in a single—when I invite a guy back to my room and find my roommate already passed out, I’m at a loss. Then this senior I’m with casually suggests he could use a shower. I know what he’s thinking. I’m drunk enough to think that this is a wonderful idea, but not drunk enough to forget towels. Thank God my mom bought me two.

We stumble into the showers and start throwing our clothes around the bathroom in a frenzy of drunken passion. Somehow his jeans end up on the radiator near the window and somehow I lose my underwear. But now that we’re naked, it’s, as they say, business time, and I suavely turn off those fluorescent McBain lights. Suddenly plunged into darkness, we blindly hop in the shower. He turns the knob and we’re instantly assaulted with a freezing cold—no, now burning hot, no, now back to freezing cold—stream of water. Columbia facilities are keeping us on our toes. As the temperature becomes livable and, um, sexy, we start making out again. Okay honestly, he’s a fabulous kisser. But so am I.

Let the oral adventures commence! Oh, he’s not circumcised; I love when that happens. Wait, is he circumcised? I am much too drunk to tell. He starts giving me some rather lackluster oral sex but whatever—I am Dido and he is Aeneas and together we are invoking the Muses and singing the song and—

—Shit.

Someone walks in.

Who the fuck goes to the bathroom at 4 am? Seriously? You couldn’t just wait?

Has she no idea of the sweet, sweet passion that’s about to occur?

She turns on the light. He’s definitely not circumcised. Still attractive though. I make a mental note to give myself a pat on the back.

But this doesn’t stop him. He slowly pushes me down to my knees, in the full light, while some girl is peeing. So kinky. Now normally I would never kneel or even go barefoot in a McBain shower, but whatever, I’m in the moment. As I start giving him some awesome and drunk head, I look over at that hair-filled drain next to me. So romantic.

Another person walks in. Then another. We’re trying to be quiet but even the extraordinary amount of passion in this shower stall isn’t quite enough to prevent giggling. They have to know. How jealous are they? Right?

At the end of the night we exchange numbers. I wake up the next morning with a headache and a vague sense of impending notoriety. Everyone on my floor now knows how I do. This is not the first shower I’ve had sex in, but it might have been the grossest. Thanks, floormates. Honestly? I don’t regret anything. I did it for the YOLO.

And seriously? IDGAF.

Furtive lovers via Wikimedia Commons