I licked my lips as a drop of sweet vodka dripped from my frosted martini glass. Gingerly, I set the glass down on the golden bar and looked at my friend, pursing my lips, anticipating her next comment. “Got one,” she whispered in delight, and her eyes casually surveyed the rest of the room. This is the sweet hunt you read about in the naughty sex section of Cosmopolitan articles: lusting for sugar daddies. We sipped our £40 martinis in London’s most notorious sugar daddy hunting ground waiting to fulfill our perverted, narcissistic fantasy.
In light of this week’s career fair, resumés have undoubtedly been on all our minds. And as we’ve all been updating our special skills sections, a lot of us are also probably wondering about the surefire ways to impress potential employers. I’m not sure I can help you much with that, but when it comes to impressing others, I have found that one of the best ways to do so is by getting down on your knees (and I don’t mean begging, because that’s just not sexy…in most cases). Seriously, knowing your way around a guy’s cock is a skill that’s in high demand and will never go out of style. Few things will make a guy go crazier than a pro taking care of his bad boy.
Cornellians like to have sex (I mean, have you read this column before?), and who can blame us? Between the never-ending stress of classwork, the brutally frigid winter, and the crushing fear that we’ll all end up dying alone, people here would likely explode (literally, in some cases) without the opportunity to fuck around a little bit. In a school of 14,000 undergrads — and 7,000 graduate students if you have a thing for that — Cornellians have their pick of a broad selection of sexual partners. During your four years in Ithaca, you’ll probably encounter a variety of snuggle buddies. Here are the 10 types of people you’ll have sex with at Cornell:
The First: It’s o-week, and you’ve ventured out into Collegetown with your 50 new best friends you met on your floor.
Yet, as our adventure progressed, I felt closer to my friend than ever before. We knew exactly what each other liked because we had spent years revealing our sexual experiences to one another, so it was easy for me to please her and to guide the guy to do the same.
It is a stereotype of male arousal that it tends to go one way or the other. That is to say, you’re either turned on or you’re not. While such platitudes are mostly true, they do overlook the realm of partial tumescence, the delightful stage in-between full erection and full flaccidity.
Do you know how difficult it is to be a sexually active virgin on this campus? Paradoxical, I know. But it’s true. I’m a girl who loves sexual acts, loves everything about sex, but simply refuses to have it. It was engineered into my brain that sex is reserved for your husband, and after years of religion thrusting itself into my head (pun intended), it’s become difficult to reverse the effects of this forceful belief, even if my own mind has changed.
By this time in my collegiate career, I thought I had pretty much tried it all. Every position had been knocked out, every unique location on campus had been conquered and after having both types of threesomes, I didn’t think there was much more sexual experimentation left for a straight guy. Boy, was I wrong. I just hadn’t met the right girl yet. It was a Friday when I bumped into her at Rulloff’s.