In response to a frustrated reader in search of the roof access to the Arts Building, I bear great news. Walk up the stairs to the second story walkway of the Arts Building. Proceed to the west end of the building for the most secluded roof area. Simply climb over the edge of the railing and there you have your point of inspiration – the roof of the first floor of the Arts Building. Warning: Unless you enjoy dangerous sex, do not attempt the roof of the top story because it is slanted and tiled and may cause injury.
I woke up the other day feeling a little dirty and a little great. After 16 months of love and happiness my boyfriend and I had reached a stalemate. I had never considered cheating on him until September 29th – the night I embraced my newfound freedom.
The night began with my very first keg party in my first apartment. The possibilities were endless. My roommate’s friends were visiting from out of town and there was one with biceps. Let’s call him George (because that’s his name). His biceps were jagged rocks smoothed by the currents of the ocean. After our keg was dry at 11 p.m., George and his friends headed out to Del Playa to hit up some parties. Acting on my lust-filled emotions I went with them, just me and the boys.
I strutted my stuff along DP in my see-through pajama bottoms and bra-less top. I had never felt so sexy in my life. I guess after seeing countless girls all glittery and glamorous, guys on DP were excited to see my new style. As we walked DP, I received numerous ass-taps and boob-grabs. George and I exchanged sexual passes and I began to crave his body next to mine.
We finally returned home and I collapsed on the couch. I said suggestively, “Someone can sleep on the couch with me.” George rested his head on my ass and that was when my relationship died and the fun began.
Grappling with the fine line between cheating and innocent flirting, I set my limitations for the night. I would refrain from kissing him and touching him with my hands. In my drunken logic these rules seemed legit; however, these rules only added to our freakiness. I let him suck my ass (just the cheeks), and I remained “faithful” by using only my feet to touch him. We rustled around on the couch while his seven friends lay on the floor of our living room aroused by our heavy breathing.
Looking at my hickey-covered backside in the mirror the next day, I realized the last night had been more than just innocent flirting. It has signified my longing to feel desired and appreciated again. Two days after my one-night affair, my boyfriend called and we ended our relationship. I feel no remorse or guilt, only invigoration. To all the suppressed long-distance lovers, set your partners free and start living.
To my readers, please tell me your secrets, tell me your scandals, tell me your sufferings.
Daily Nexus sex columnist Molly Blank tells you her secrets, now you tell her yours. Send sex ideas, tales and questions to