So I know I can’t be alone when it comes to waking up one morning, looking over and seeing another person lying beside you, and then looking around and realizing you just hooked up with someone with more than six American/Texas-themed flags in their bedroom.
This post is an honest confessional about the horrible sexperiences from the ladies of LD. From their horrible taste in decor, subtle hints towards their sexist ways, or just reasons we wished we could have just kept it in our pants, we think you’ll enjoy this, and hopefully be encouraged that bad hookups happen to the best of us.
The Ronald Reagan Aficionado:
One night, after feeling particularly low that I was still unemployed and graduating in two months, I decided to hook up with the semi-attractive tall guy that used to work with my cousin. All was fine, admittedly more than fine in the pleasure department if I’m being honest, until the next morning when I woke up and saw that his entire bedroom wall was covered in flags. There was an American flag, a Texas flag, a “Come and Take It” flag, a “Join or Die” flag, a flag for his college, a flag for every branch of our armed services, and the real winner: An American Flag with our 40th President smiling down on me, silently judging me (he was, I could tell). And then it all came rushing back to me–he was going to vote for Trump if he got the Republican nomination. Suppressing the urge to vomit, I called a ride and ran out as fast as I could.
Sex Playlist and a Lava Lamp
One night I was hanging out with some frat boys I had gotten pretty friendly with. I’d never hooked up with someone I wasn’t dating before, but I was ready to embrace the college experience and give it a try…or so I thought. It got to be too late to walk home alone at night so I took an offer to “stay on his futon.” Once he invited me onto his loft bed, I started to get the hint. He not-so-subtly turned on what was clearly a sex playlist, then made his move. I was semi-into it but also felt very awkward. For some reason, I decided it’d be more awkward to not sleep with him…but several semi-uncomfortable positions and about 10 minutes later, it was over. Afterwards, I noticed a lava lamp across the room…should’ve been my sign.
Tits out for the boys?
One New Year’s Eve, I was invited to a house party across the street from my apartment by a boy I had been casually talking to. We played beer pong and talked all night and eventually went to his room to make out on his couch. We quickly moved to his loft and clothes started to be shed. I was sitting in his lap, straddling him and making out with him in just my bra when four of his friends waltzed in and started talking to him…it took them way longer than it should have to realize that he was a little occupied. They just stared at us until one of them said “Oh, my bad,” then they left. Needless to say, the mood was killed. Embarrassing at the time, but this is hilarious to me now.
That Went Downhill Quickly
I went on a Tinder date that started off really well. We got along and he was super hot, so I did something I never do on dates: got drunk and went home with him that night. We got to his apartment, and the first hitch was his…equipment. I shouldn’t have been disappointed but I was. Things kind of fizzled out from there so I said I wanted to go home. This caused the large manly guy to start whining like a child ( “Noooooooo, I don’t want you to gooooooo”) and then he HID MY CLOTHES so I couldn’t leave. I was out of there as soon as the sun came up.
I had been hooking up with this guy for a little bit and he kept having trouble with condoms. One night he came over and the condom fell off which obviously sucked. The next morning when I was throwing out my trash, I noticed a Magnum wrapper. This dude did not need Magnums. Not even a little bit and this lack of self-awareness actually made me pretty pissed – I had to go spend $50 on Plan B because he had never seen p*rn? I never saw him again – because how do you tell someone that?
Me, to guy I’m making out with: “…did you just lick my face?”
Him: “Yeah, I like doing that sometimes.”
The Unswiped V-Card
So I’d been having this long, weird flirtatious thing with a co-worker/good friend of one of my best friends. SUPER attractive, smart, good at his job. He was always kind of hot/cold, though, and one time showed up 30 minutes late to a coffee date we’d set up. So one weekend I was out with friends and he asked me to come over to see his new house when I was done, so I did. He showed me around, and pulled the whole “the only TV in the house with Netflix is in my room” (which yes, I know, but also, I knew what I was there for). Things started going pretty hot and heavy but then… it turns out he was waiting to have sex until marriage! Which is fine, and I support that if it’s what you want to do, but what am I doing here? And he was very inexperienced in other areas, so that ended up being unfortunate, and then it turned out he had gotten a bit tipsy before I came over because he was nervous, so after I put in a significant amount of work, nothing happened and we just went to sleep. I snuck out the next morning and met my best friend for breakfast–WITH A GODDAMN HICKEY ON MY NECK LIKE A 14-YEAR-OLD. It was the worst. PS: At least twice he started laughing at “New Girl,” which we had playing in the background. Twice. In the middle of a hookup.
So, this past New Year’s Eve I had gone out with two of my cousins. When the fateful last call came and I hadn’t had any luck finding an attractive guy, I went up to the first one I saw out on the street. He was tall, relatively attractive, and had a friend for my cousin. We went back to their hotel and pretty much immediately everyone else went to the “store” to get “stuff” so my guy and I could have some alone time. All was well, for the most part, except when he couldn’t keep it up because, in his own words, he had a combo of “whisky and addy-dick,” whatever that means. So nothing too good actually happened, and yet, an hour later I heard him walk outside. After he’d been out for ten minutes I decided to go check on him. I immediately started regretting it as soon as I walked out the door and heard him literally sobbing. I’m talking that kind of ugly cry you used to do as a kid after getting in trouble and being sent to your room. I’m talking “Titanic”-level tears, y’all. At this point I’d sobered up a bit, and didn’t know what else to do so I just patted his shoulder and actually said “There, there.” After he caught his breath (yeah, I told you it was an intense cry), he looked up at me with puppy-dog eyes, swallowed, and said “I miss my girlfriend.” Apparently they were on a break. If anything, I felt sorry for the girl. Mainly because her boyfriend was a mess, and possibly pulling a Ross.
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