Category: Sleeping Around

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

Some people like it rough. I think the appeal comes from the thought of either being in charge or being totally dominated. So popular, the term “BDSM” has been coined to mean bondage, domination, sadism and masochism.

Rough play has even made its way into pop culture. In the first season of “Desperate Housewives,” Bree’s husband habitually visited a dominatrix prostitutional housewife. Rihanna released “S&M” in January 2011, debuting it at No. 53 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and moving all the way up to No. 1. The song has even been certified double platinum.

With all of this hype, it seems like some whips and chains might not just excite Rihanna, but could excite the rest of us, too. At first I was pretty skeptical to get involved in BDSM myself, but Rihanna’s urging has given me the encouragement to find out more. I feel as though the heat created by a dominating situation might put a little hot sauce on my otherwise red-pepper-flaked sex life.

Whenever people start thinking about BDSM activities, we can’t help but think of the props that might complete the experience. I’m particularly interested in handcuffs, whips, gags and a little blindfolding.

I’m not so sure I’d experiment with bondage quite yet, but the blindfolding could be fun and wouldn’t necessarily be as “rough” as other props. I realize this sounds like something straight out of “Cosmopolitan,” but I think the anticipation of not necessarily knowing what thrilling sexual act will be performed next can be a great turn on.

The BDSM attire also shouldn’t go unnoticed. Personally, I love the way black thigh high leather boots look. I have a pair that makes me my legs look rocking. I’ve also always been a big fan of sexy lingerie. A lacy black get-up can create a nice juxtaposition with the leather boots or a black leather jewelry piece with metal spikes. (I personally think the dog collar is a little much, but I can see the appeal for some.)

Every time I get down and dirty doesn’t need to be the greatest thrill I’ve ever experienced, but I think throwing in a little variety can kick up the satisfaction a notch or two. Sometimes, a little BDSM can get the job done.

Disclaimer: In no way are BDSM activity and non-consensual sex the same. Prior to engaging in any type of BDSM behavior, consent of all parties involved should be clearly stated.

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

During the fall semester of my first year at the University, students and faculty were plagued by the swine flu. With half of my English 101 class quarantined, and my own symptoms from a stomach bug, I turned into a hypochondriac and made my first visit to Health Services.

Luckily, I managed to avoid swine, but I didn’t manage to avoid the poster in the examination room providing me with the six degrees of sexual separation. I recently started thinking about how my “number” and “exposure” stack up.

I decided to look up a similar chart online entitled, “Sexual Exposure Chart.” The chart is based on the idea that every partner you’ve engaged in sexual activity with has had the same number of previous partners you have. In my case, I’ve had two partners, so under the chart’s assumption, Partner #1 had no previous partners and Partner #2 had one other partner. This brought my total exposure to three people.

A sexual exposure of three didn’t seem so bad, but with one more partner added, my exposure jumped up to seven. While my traditional “number” may only go up by one for every new partner, my exposure to others goes up by many more.

I started asking around to figure out what a typical 20-year-old female student’s number would be and got a variety of answers. Yes, I actually walked up to women to ask for their number. My extremely small and impromptu survey yielded results anywhere from zero to eight, with most answers being one or two.

Surprisingly, every girl I asked outright gave me her number without hesitation. No one seemed concerned it was too low or too high. In one case, the girl had to think about and count up her number of partners, indicating a lack of concern regarding it.

Based on a survey by the federal government, men had a median of seven and women had a median of four heterosexual partners. According to “The Myth, the Math, the Sex,” an article from the New York Times in 2007, it’s expected that men overestimate and women underestimate their partner number.

With those numbers being said, I think it’s important to realize a few things.

First, half of all people are above the median and half are below. To be honest, this median isn’t really about the “typical” number of partners; it’s about the number of partners at the middle of the spectrum. It doesn’t indicate how heavily populated different parts of the number line are.

Regarding my own life, I think two is fine. Realistically, my number is going to increase, and that’s fine with me. What’s important isn’t the number, but the decisions we make that got us to it.

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

With Valentine’s Day just passing, let’s talk about another big V in our lives.  I’m talking about the biggest V you can think of that pertains to your late night indiscretions.  I’m talking about virginity, and, yes, this is about to get a little personal.

You can probably all guess that I’m not a virgin.  I’m pretty sure The Bucknellian wouldn’t let me write this column if I was, but that’s not to say I was sexualized too young or anything like that.

I lost the v-card after coming to college.  I was in a steady relationship with a guy who was not as chaste as myself.  I don’t regret the guy or the circumstances, but at age 18, I thought we needed to have “the talk.”

I don’t mean the “where do babies come from” talk, I mean the “I need to know this is the right decision and that I’m not going to regret having made it with you” talk.

Honestly, I’ve never stopped having that talk.  Prior to every new sexual encounter, I’ve had “the talk.”  I just think it’s important to know where both partners are physically, mentally and emotionally when it comes to having sex.

With STIs, STDs and STFs (sexually transmitted feelings) going around campus, understanding your partner’s sexual history or lack thereof is just as important to your emotional stability as it is to your fear of herpes.

One day last week while I was at lunch with my girlfriends, my peppy cheerleader friend Reilly* was filling the group in on James*, the guy she’s been seeing.

Her hookup concern of the week?  Reilly was beginning to think about taking the next step and actually sleeping together.  However, Reilly’s feelings weren’t the problem.  Before any canoodling, Reilly wanted to know if James was a virgin, but she didn’t know how to bring it up.

This prompted all eight of the girls to start talking about how you ask your partner if he or she is a virgin. We all agreed it’s awkward to just flat out ask, yet it seemed like having that talk was so important.

I know that talking about the v-card can be almost as awkward as asking your mom to refill your condom stash next time she’s at the pharmacy, but it seems to be something we’ll all have to overcome at least once.

I wish I had advice for you, but all I can really say is that the brief moment of humiliation that comes from asking the question is almost always cancelled by the resulting conversation and activity.

If you still think it’s too awkward, take my roommate’s advice: “If you can’t have the talk, just don’t have sex.”

*Names have been changed.

Stacey Lace

Columnist

For Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend from high school used to send me a dozen flowers for each year we’d been dating. By our last V-Day together, I managed to get 36 gorgeous red roses out of him.

I’m not trying to sound spoiled (although I clearly am), but even I think that might be going a little overboard. I’m just not sure that Feb. 14, and Feb. 14 alone, is the only day in a year that chicks should whip out the see-through red lace lingerie or guys should plan romantic dates with chocolate and flowers.

I know that the whole origin of V-Day was for St. Valentine, the martyr. That’s great and everything, but now it feels like an excuse to find somebody to fool around with for a couple weeks in the middle of the winter.

For someone lucky enough to have a date to a party tonight, I realize I sound pretty cynical of a holiday all about love. I just don’t know why we have to save up all our romanticism and passion for one night.

It’s not as if V-Day is even the sexiest day of the year. Seriously, think about it. There’s New Year’s, when you can ring in a new sex partner. July has Independence Day, where fireworks can get anyone hot. St. Patty’s day is a great time to “Kiss me, I’m Irish.” My personal favorite sexy holiday is Columbus Day, you know, so you can discover a “new world.” To each his own, I guess.

Regardless of being a poorly-placed holiday seemingly meant for bundling up and not stripping down, V-Day is just so purposeless.

I’d like to think that we could all just tone down V-Day so it can be v-day instead, but I realize that a lot of people won’t stand for that. Cutting back doesn’t have to be a big deal. A couple could easily skip the big night out for a cozy night in together and save the fine wining and dining for a night in April when we don’t have to wear parkas.

Also, I live in a dorm room; where am I supposed to put three dozen roses? I’m also a plant killer. Honestly, I look at plants and they die. The cost-to-benefit analysis of V-Day roses just doesn’t prove to be worth it.

Give me a simple box of chocolates and I promise I won’t be just a V-Day fling. I’ll stick around until Columbus Day for a little late-night lovin’.

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

Last semester, I explained exactly what is a half-night stand. I know some of you found it funny that I actually had a term for such a phenomenon and others found it appalling that this kind of behavior even exists. Regardless, no one can deny the fact that the half-night stand eliminates worrying about “breakfast etiquette.”

I like to think of good breakfast etiquette as the Emily Post way to gracefully handle the morning after situation. I’ll be honest, after hearing stories from my friends of both genders and different sexual orientations, it seems the awkwardness of the morning after is inevitable.

I started thinking about breakfast etiquette when I heard from a friend that she doesn’t come home the morning after until three requirements have been met:

She has been fed breakfast.

She has had a massage.

She is given a ride.

While I am a diva, I’m not sure that these stipulations should be the standard in every situation. If you’re not in a relationship, I understand that it may not make sense to have an over-the-top morning routine for a one-nighter with no future; however, maybe a little something could be expected.

For example, if you end up spending your late evening and early morning in a mod, at least a bowl of cereal can be managed. (For future reference, I prefer Strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats; they’re just so pink!) If you’ve got a fully functioning kitchen and can’t even get cereal together, why do you bother living so far away from the rest of campus?

Once sleepovers grow to be habitual enough that bacon, eggs and toast are expected, I think roommates could even coordinate their efforts. I’m just saying one person cooks on Saturdays and the other on Sundays. It just seems more efficient that way (same cost, greater benefit).

As for those lacking a kitchen, maybe a quick breakfast date in the Bison would suffice? If you have the time and want to get a little classier you could take your honey down to Zelda’s, Kiely’s or Cherry Alley.  There’s just something so nice about doing the Sunday crossword together.

As for my friend’s feelings about massages and rides home, maybe you should only bother with a massage when you’re in a relationship or a licensed masseuse, and a ride home is always key.

And a few last words: No relationship, no kitchen–-no breakfast. Let’s not make our expectations completely unrealistic.

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

I recently received a letter pleading with me to write about interracial relationships on campus. It seems that our romantic lives are lacking diversity. For example, the most diverse person I’ve ever dated here was from Canada. I know, you think it’s funny, eh?

Based on my sudden realization that I lack what others have, I had to employ the help of my friend, Whitney*. Whitney is commonly referred to as what some would call a strawberry blonde, or, what I call, Ginger Lite (GL for short).

During our first year, Whitney met and started dating Kushal*, an Indian electrical engineer. Kushal has since graduated, but he and Whitney are still together and have a simultaneously normal and dysfunctional relationship.

Some things I’d like to let you know about Whitney, so you can truly understand the context of this relationship:

Whitney has informed me that blonde guys turn her on (Kushal is pretty much the anti-blonde).

AND

She has a difficult time imagining her hair on her future half-Indian children’s heads (in reality, if she and Kushal were to have children, they probably wouldn’t look even slightly like her).

While these facts are seemingly pointless, they show how important Kushal’s personality is rather than Whitney’s prior ideas. Other than the ginger Indian children thing, Whitney has never once raised a concern to me about Kushal’s heritage. Her concerns are more along the lines of “he never visits me” or “Kushal is drunk dialing me from the street and a homeless man is walking him home.”

Whitney and Kushal have the same concerns in their long-distance relationship as the rest of us. When he doesn’t call, Whitney wonders what he’s up to and if he’s letting his partying ways get the best of him. When Whitney and I go out, she has to fight the same temptations I’m free to indulge in.

According to the College Board, 77 percent of University students are white. This doesn’t necessarily allow for a whole lot of on-campus interracial action. However, if Whitney and Kushal can find love of the same sweet, yet strange, kind as same-race couples, then there’s hope for all of us to find someone.

Over the last couple of years, I’ve learned a lot about relationships from Whitney and Kushal. While they have problems in their relationship, not one of those problems is related to their difference in race. Their problems are centered on their bad habits, bouts with trust, and the constant feeling of missing each other.

Maybe we should all take a hint from the two of them, put our racial blinders on and find love wherever we can.

*Names have been changed.

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

With dreary weather and finals weighing us down, we shouldn’t completely ignore the upcoming farewell sex season. It’s a great opportunity to blow off a little pre-winter break steam.

As we enter the Yule season with the hopes of snow and presents, let’s hope for a bit of action in the bedroom to keep us from getting bored.

What better way to prepare ourselves for break than with a little bit of steamy finals sex?  Take a short break from studying notes for your Human Sexuality final and do a little practical studying. Even if you’re not taking anything related to anatomy, a spicy hiatus from the library can do us all some good.

Let’s be clear; I’m not saying that you should all run out and have sex with anyone willing just because you’re stressed out by finals week, but tapping it a little more frequently leading up to break may help to relieve your tension.

For those of us in committed relationships, a month can seem like a long time to be away from our sig. figs. (significant figures/others). My thought is that you might as well do it while the opportunity exists so you don’t regret it when you’re stuck at home with only your hand to console you.

If you’re not dating somebody, finding a finals friend might not be a bad idea. What do I think is the ideal quality in a finals buddy? Isn’t it obvious? A similar exam schedule!

Don’t worry, my sexually active friends! If you already have a steady hookup, I haven’t forgotten about you. While you’ve kept it pretty casual for a while now, you too should make sure you’re getting some quality sheet time in since you’ll be stuck miles and miles apart. Even the late night “Hey, what’s up?” text won’t be able to bring you together over break.

In all seriousness though, sex is truly a great form of stress relief and endorphin release.  You and I both know of one professor we have that could use a good fuel injection. With that in mind, getting a little frisky in between finals isn’t such a bad idea.

Here’s an added bonus for the ladies: lowered stress causes fewer wrinkles! Men, less stress for you means you can hold off balding just a little bit longer. If these aren’t good reasons to take a roll in the hay, then I don’t know what is.

And a little sexual health tip just for the holidays — in December, don’t forget to gift wrap your member!

Stacey Lace

Columnist

I’ll be honest—I like getting laid as much as you do, but every time I get down and dirty with an ex, it ends in a really sticky situation. You know, the kind of situations where you inevitably have to return some article of clothing that you stole so you didn’t have to walk home cold in the middle of the night (or, from the other side, where you have to continuously chase down said article of clothing).

We all get those “I haven’t done it in a while and I think it’s time. Maybe I should shoot my ex a booty call text” feelings once in a while. What we should realize is that while the idea always starts off well, it can often lead us into dangerous territory.

Prior to the ex sex-text, I know that I only think about one consequence—the actual sex. I don’t really like to dwell on the ex. To be frank, ex sex is about 99 percent about the sex and one percent about the ex. The ex is really just a convenient animalistic outlet for those times when your hormones are feeling a little lonely.

This indifference to the ex is what I think leads us to the awkward part of awkward ex sex. Usually, I like to put a little inebriation into the equation to soften the blow, but somehow it never fails to prevent the half-night stand.

Half-night stand: (n.) a shortened version of the one-night stand; leaving a sexual partner’s bedside before morning, typically before the partner wakes (Dlugatch & Eitches, “Daily Californian,“ Sept. 7, 2004)

Half-night stands are the perfect way to minimize the awkwardness. It doesn’t eliminate it completely, but I think it’s lessened.

I just hate the GIG (Good morning, Immediate Goodbye) aspect of the wake up. I find the GIG to be the epitome of the awkward part of awkward ex sex. Once I’ve sobered up, I just can’t imagine wanting to spend any time with the ex talking about our feelings or what last night meant. I was just horny and the skills I know he possesses drew me in.

I also find it’s a lot easier to get a ride home at 2 or 3 a.m. than in the wee hours of the morning. Most people don’t like being woken up at dawn because their friends can’t keep it in their pants.

I look forward to the coming weekends for the sole reason of not having any ex sex. Just seeing them around campus is awkward enough; why would I want to add sex to that mix when I can avoid the repeat experience with someone new?

By Stacey Lace

Columnist

“In every breakup, there are winners and losers.” –Marshall Eriksen, “How I Met Your Mother”

While this seems awful, we should all realize that Marshall isn’t so far off.  On television and in real life, winning the breakup is never something to joke about.  It’s a serious competition, and only the strong survive.

According to UrbanDictionary.com, winning the breakup means “meeting your ex after some time has passed and comparing details about your current lives–-there is always a winner and a loser in a breakup.  If your life is going significantly better than your ex’s, then you win the breakup.”

From this definition, you can realize how paramount it is to be the winner rather than the loser.  While you know you’re the hotter commodity, you need to prove it.

Let’s examine some battle tactics used in these breakup wars:

– Facebook relationship statuses:  It’s great being able to creep all over your ex’s page, but maybe obsessing about the fact that he or she still hasn’t removed the “in a relationship” isn’t worth your time.

– Facebook photos:  You and I both know that constantly going through old photos of the two of you isn’t healthy.  It’s also probably not healthy to see a picture of your ex with someone new (untagged), and then spend hours with your friends trying to identify said untagged person.

– Costumes:  Whether it be Halloween or a themed register, it’s very important in the breakup battle that anytime you dress up, you take a high number of photos of you looking great and having a great time.

– Campus sightings:  To win a breakup, you have to be on your A-game all the time, including when you eat or even check your mail.  You have to make sure that if spotted, you’re the one who couldn’t possibly tear yourself away from your friends because you’re all laughing too hard from your witty comments.  This is the only face time you have to unequivocally prove that you are better off.

My question is whether this competition is even worth it.  Once you’ve won a few battles and maybe even the war, do you feel better?  I don’t think it helps us to move on, but rather creates an unhealthy obsession with the past.  It seems that the effort we put into the contest is really just a distraction from moving on with the rest of our lives.

Have ideas for Sleeping Around topics?  We invite you to send in things you want to read about as well as personal anecdotes.  Email BucknellianSleepingAround@gmail.com. All submissions are for the columnist’s eyes only.

Introducing Sleeping Around: a commentary on sex, love and relationships in college.  That’s right, The Bucknellian is getting ballsy and printing the things you want to read.  Each week, we will print a provocative column commenting on, making fun of and sometimes even embarrassing students and their sex lives.  Can you handle it?

Students on this campus are some of the horniest people around.  Lilly Pulitzer day planners should just be manufactured with stickers labeled “Become intoxicated and copulate with a stranger” so we can schedule our drunken sexual encounters around midterm week.

This hookup culture promotes a lack of definition for what happens when your one-night stands dwindle down to a single repeat offender.

Now that we’re supposed to be independent, strong-willed women, why are we still allowing men to dictate when we’re going to date and when we’re going to fornicate?

It seems we female college students allow the males to force us into a culture that promotes the following relationship buildup:

1.  Meet at party.

2.  Dance.  Make out.  Exchange phone numbers (sometimes only BBMs, since numbers could allow more than text communication and we’re uncomfortable with any serious sober contact).

3.  One week or so later, drunk text and meet up at some party with a theme titled “Refugees and Rescuees.”  (Total bullshit. In reality, the theme is slutty nurses with bros ogling their goodies.)

4.  Play a few rounds of beer pong, chandelier or flip cup and abruptly leave for what is known as the “house,” aka all things “frat”.

5.  Repeat for two to four months.

6.  Have “the talk” and change your Facebook relationship status so your mother can think you’re not just an easy whore, but trying to form a “real connection” with the guy you feel pressured into taking to your formals at the end of the semester.  (Let’s be honest though—you need to be plastered to make it through that shit.)

Once we’ve hit this point (where we’re taking a hookup to formals but still refusing to acknowledge his existence outside the hours of 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights), I propose we as women take control of our lives and begin using the term “pre-dating.”

Pre-dating (n.): the relationship state prior to that of being in a relationship but after that of casually hooking up. 

“So what’s going on with you and Mike? I know you two have been sleeping together for a while.”

“Oh, we’re pre-dating, you know, more than hooking up, but it’s not like he’ll be meeting the parents anytime soon.”

Now that we are independent, strong-willed women, it’s our turn to dictate the dating vs. having sex relationship.  It’s time for us to define where our relationships are headed and let our partners know we won’t take their bullshit lying down.

Have ideas for Sleeping Around topics?  Email BucknellianSleepingAround@gmail.com. All submissions are for the columnist’s eyes only.