By AMY O.
While hunting for grad schools this past weekend, I happened to attend a Ukrainian-themed dinner — don’t ask. In the midst of consuming too many pierogies and way too much vodka, I noticed a cute guy sitting across from me at the table. He wasn’t the one who immediately caught my eye, but he laughed at my jokes, genuinely seemed to find me amusing and kind of looked like Joseph Gordon Levitt (swoon).
To be totally honest, I can’t really tell you how we started making out. Last thing I remember I was serving cake to 12 people, and when I came to at three in the morning and I was watching New Girl on my friend’s couch while waiting for this JGL look-alike to come pick me up. The rest of the night was a pretty unfamiliar blur but I do remember him fucking me really hard before whiskey dick kicked in and we had to call it a night.
Though this column could be yet another ode to the wonderful one-night stands I’ve been recklessly engaging in recently, I would instead like to highlight what made this one-night stand particularly great: The different positions we tried and how we transitioned from one to another.
The morning after, we woke up early and talked in bed for a while. I re-asked all the questions I forgot that I had asked the night before, and at some point talking got more physical and he was on top of me whispering in my ear that he wanted to have sex. Obviously, I nodded in enthusiasm.
I couldn’t remember if I had been on top the night before (I doubt I had, drunk me is incapable of doing much) so I climbed on top and began to ride him. I couldn’t tell if it was the ratio of our limbs or what, but it just didn’t seem to be working for me. “Favorite position?” I asked him with a smirk on my face. Doggie style was his response. Bingo.
I hopped off, established tabletop position and arched my back into cat pose (see how useful yoga terminology is in real life?) letting him fuck me hard and fast before I asked him to pull my hair. A couple minutes of that and he asked me to get on the floor. I was kind of taken aback, but went with it, only to find out he meant he wanted to do standing doggie style not some kind of like rolling-on-the-floor, back-hurting sex. Phew.
I don’t 100 percent remember how, but he flipped me over and told me to scoot my butt to the edge of the bed so he was standing and I was laying on my back with my legs on his shoulders. I was a little confused as to what was going on so obviously I found myself saying, “What? What?” repeatedly as he tried to initiate this maneuver. It ended up working out but not without a little clarification.
Ultimately, he told me to move back at which point I used the edge of his mattress as leverage to hoist myself backwards on the bed (my lack of grace indicates I’m pretty much the real Hannah Horvath) and he finished on top of me before we collapsed into a sweaty heap. I didn’t really do that much work so is was unclear why I was sweating, but just bear with me.
Just like the first night of Passover, I needed to ask “what makes this night different from other nights?” But really — all Jewish references aside, what made sex with this guy better than the mediocre sex I’ve been having the past few weeks?
After some thinking, I would argue that it was in large part because we successfully tried five positions. It was nice to (for a change) have sex with someone who was comfortable taking some risks and knew what he liked. Some positions were familiar, some were confusing, but at the end of the day, all were fun.
Maybe more important than trying new positions, he and I communicated what we needed from each other in order for them to work. Though attempting to slither across his bed on my back was probably the least sexy thing I’ve done (ever), telling me how to position myself made my slithering justifiable and okay. Communicating created an equal push and pull in the dynamic that let both of us feel empowered, comfortable and respected.
Though I will probably never see this guy again, it was exciting to know that there are people with whom we will go out of our comfort zone to try new things. Sure, I didn’t look sexy for the majority of the time (at least one of those positions was not intended for women who are well endowed in the boob region, i.e. myself), but at least I walked away with a great story and a couple new moves in my back pocket.