I believe in failure. I believe that success depends upon putting yourself out there and losing occasionally, particularly when it comes to sex. Fate sometimes conspires to keep a fantasy a fantasy, and more often than not you may find yourself at the end of the night alone, but if you’re putting yourself out there, the hundred small disappointments will eventually add up to a success, and you’ll walk through an unexpected door into a room filled with erotic possibilities beyond anything you had previously imagined. Sex will extend your limits if you push its limits. You just have to keep putting yourself out there.

Take our reader Alice, for example, a college student at a place I imagine is called Sex U. Last week she wrote in asking for a sex dare. She was meeting a boy with a mohawk whom she’s been eyeing lustfully, and she wanted to turn him on while turning herself on in the process. I was intrigued by Alice’s “predicament”, and you wrote in with your suggestions for her experiment. She was to choose her favorite suggestion – much like choosing a course at Sex U – and do her best to complete her assignment. A few days later I got this e-mail from Alice:

I know there are no excuses (I’m writing this in my college’s library, wondering if some nosy patron will come over)…but I failed…. I went out to a club last night with a group of friends. We showed up a little smashed and got more so. It was an interesting club. I was wearing some black shorts that I had made (I cut my skinny jeans off in the middle of the afternoon in a public park – it gets hot here), with a low-cut shirt and heels. I ended up in the bathroom with another girl. She had long brown hair, a purple skin tight dress…I don’t remember the specifics of her face.

I’m too worried that someone might come up behind me now to type down in explicit detail what we did, but we both left the bathroom smiling. I went to my friend’s house (we agreed to not let each other go home with strangers), curled up in his bed, and slept until 3pm. I just finished an art project, am wearing those same black shorts, with a crumpled grey t-shirt, and have black paint all over myself.

 

Man, I love Sex U. I wanted to enroll immediately, but instead I just wrote back:

Honestly, Alice, I think the challenge was difficult, and I was going to be amazed if you pulled it off. It’s often harder to seduce someone with whom you’ve established patterns than a stranger who’s a blank slate – for example a girl in a bathroom in a skin-tight purple dress! I’d be very curious to have more details of that scene sketched in…. And then the mind races towards images of a woman taking a knife to her clothes to free some fabulous paint-raked warrior legs….

 

And she responded (from the hallowed halls of Sex U):

I agree. With a stranger you know they’re already playing the game, or are up to play it. The scene: a remixed, dub step version of ‘Hey Soul Sister’ was playing. I asked her to dance, and mid-song she turned around and kissed me. She bit my lower lip, and I squeezed her waist. I slid a hand up her stomach lightly, then she pulled me to the bathroom. I’m not used to having anyone push me around, and when she pushed me into a stall I kind of growled (I already have a low voice), pulled her on top of me and her dress started sliding up. She hit my hand, laughed at me, unbuttoned my shorts, and through tipsy-horny drunk acrobatics she put her head between my legs. I don’t remember much…but as soon as she sucked my clit, she clawed at my legs and I came instantly. She lifted her head, and kissed me. I bit her neck and breasts, and she led me out of the bathroom. I stumbled, legs trembling. She told me something I couldn’t hear, and I wandered over to my friends. It was my first quick fuck with a stranger, and my only fuck in which a girl has dominated me.

And my legs are pretty fabulous!

 

So a failure? Hardly. Our Alice is putting herself out there, and sexual anticipation (for an experiment with a boy in a mohawk, for example) can sometimes create such a sexual energy around a dancer in cutoff jeans that the women of the world in purple skin-tight dresses just can’t help themselves!

Array

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