The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/category/opinion/sex-on-thursday/)
A slight buzz lingered in my room as the morning sunshine poured into my window and a lustful moan escaped from my lips. My tan leg muscles clenched and uneven movements broke the peace under my white sheets. Seconds later, bright colors burst in my veins and shivers sparked electrically from my core to the tips of my fingers. What better way to start a Sunday morning? Much to my comfort, there was no one on the other side of the bed that Sunday.
Daddy. Long gone are the days when I can call home on a Sunday evening and say, “Hi Daddy!” to my father without feeling like I yakked and must swallow it again. The word “daddy’” has become a word that I moan into the ear of some twenty-something boy as he utterly rails me. I use the word ~daddy~ sexually, but ironically. I’ll shoot off a flirty text message at 2 a.m., “Hey daddy, you up?” Or when a spicey man brushes by me on the street, I’ll think to myself, “Hello DA-DDY!” The word daddy often makes my sexual partners squirm, but in 100 percent of the cases, deep down, I think men get off to it.
Fun fact: I did not orgasm during sex with a guy until a few months ago. Sure, any time I had sex with a women I would, but with a guy? Definitely not. Why did I have sex with all the people I did if it wasn’t working for me? I had sex with regularity from the moment I got to Cornell, most of those experiences coming (or not) from three guys pre-orgasm.
With the consistent barrage of garbage coming out of the Trump administration (Did he collude with Russia? Use campaign funds to pay off Stormy Daniels? Pass one of the worst tax bills in American history? Consistently endanger the lives of thousands upon thousands of undocumented people living in the United States? Bring us to the brink of war again and again?
I was in CTB last week finishing up an essay when the song “Slow Motion” by Trey Songz came up. Normally, a throwback track like this wouldn’t incite so much nostalgia and excitement in me, but this song took me back to one of my favorite hook up memories. The summer before I began Cornell, I went from having my first kiss to showing up to my summer fling’s house wearing nothing but lingerie and high heels. Walking from his driveway to the front door, I remember that song bursting from inside of the house and my heart racing in anticipation of his surprise when he opened the door. He went absolutely crazy.