Wien, House of Sex

It’s a rather glum day outside, but nothing will cure a case of the Mondays like tales of sex. In this case, we mean tales of loud, sweaty (and possibly angry) sex! The following is the year’s first installment in what we simply call BwogSex; a collection of questions, answers, anecdotes, advice and erotic miscellany. Share your loud-sex stories (and any other sex tales, queries, etc. you wish to pen!) here in our anonymous submission box.

“But what about my neighbors?!” I hissed, suddenly tense. “Fuck your neighbors,” he growled. Euphemism or not, right now he was busy with me. He tossed me into my bed, and I said one final prayer that my studious neighbors were fast asleep before getting out of my bra as quickly as possible.

It didn’t take long after moving into my Wien single to realize the place was far from sound proof. Wien is the sad version of John Jay. Instead of the occasional weekend party from a corner double, on Thursday nights you’ll overhear Journey, arguments about problem sets, and late night crying. But I quickly learned that not everyone was having such a bad time—a resident by a main lounge several floors down was getting laid, frequently and vigorously. It was as much to her pleasure as others’ discomfort, and while quickly passing by her door one evening I made a mental note never to be that girl. I’m nowhere near virginal, but my idealistic romantic streak, coupled with a propensity to chicken out, guarantees my bed stays pretty much empty.

So imagine my surprise when half a box of wine turned into the side of my bed hitting the wall.

The next morning, I was left with plenty of questions, and foremost among them was “Was that a good idea?” I’m not saying it was bad (it wasn’t), or it wasn’t safe (it was), or if I’m not sure I needed it (I go to Columbia. Who doesn’t?). I was concerned about my Weenie neighbors, and if I had inadvertently made my sex life their business. This story notwithstanding, I do try to always bow to good taste. What if I had awakened someone? What if I had offended someone?

The next few times I’ve seen my neighbors, everyone has looked at the floor. I don’t know how to breach the subject of my casual encounter even to try to apologize.

Frankly, I would find it unnecessary, though I do feel bad. So I leave this issue up to you, dear readers. I know this question isn’t new to Bwog. Are these situations just an embarrassing product of dorm life, or a legitimate topic of conversation for the hearer and the heard? Whatever my rights to dorm room nookie, I know next time I’ll ask to move to his place. Who wants to worry about having to turn sex into the quiet game?