Spectrum editors share their most embarrassing sex stories
From KY to bathroom sex, here are some of our editors' worst sex stories
It was my third Valentine’s Day with my girlfriend of more than two years and I was looking to spice things up. So I decided to buy “sensual” massage oil from Bath and Body Works. My girlfriend always requested back rubs, so why not?
Everything went fine at first. She was happy with it, I was happy with it. Then came time for sex. I put on the condom and started. My girlfriend then began to complain about a burning feeling - we had to stop. You see, the “sensual” massage oil had specifically warned on the label that it was for “external use only,” and I hadn’t washed my hands after giving the back rub and prior to touching the outside of the condom to put it on.
Needless to say we didn’t have sex that night, and maybe even more needless to say that was my last Valentine's Day with that girlfriend.
A guy I had been seeing for a while and I decided it might be fun to try K-Y jelly to see what it was like. The commercials where the couple uses it and has such amazing sex that their heads exploded seemed appealing to me. I sent the guy on a mission to go and buy the K-Y jelly and that night we tried it out. Almost immediately I felt a horrible burning - it was so bad I honestly felt like someone was clawing away at my insides. Not fun.
We stopped so I could run into the shower. After I got out, I wanted to look at the box so I could see the list of ingredients. I never had severe allergies before so I was annoyed that an allergic reaction would suddenly appear at one of the worst possible moments I could think of. I didn’t even need to look at the box for more than 30 seconds before I realized what happened. Not only was the box labeled “strawberry flavored” - a clear giveaway I did not want that anywhere near such a vulnerable area - but it also warned “for external use only” right on the front. I was so annoyed.
Whenever I start to think about maybe trying the product again, all I have to do is remind myself the amount of pain I felt that night and I immediately run the other way. Never again.
Here’s my almost-threesome story.
It was freshman year and I was sitting in the backseat of a taxi cab with two girls. I had asked them to come back to my dorm with me after a party and they said yes. So, needless to say, I was feeling pretty good about myself.
We were getting frisky in the back of the cab and one of the girls was giving me a handjob. She had acrylic nails. The cab hit a bad bump and the girl’s nail cut me. She pulled her hand out of my pants, saw there was blood on it, got grossed out and just asked to get dropped off at her apartment. The other girl got out with her.
I did not have a threesome that night. I did not get laid that night.
This guy and I were having sex for the first time at his place. It was great until he started going extremely fast from the back. He started losing his breath from pounding me like a bunny rabbit.
Then he got a little too excited.
Mid-stroke, his penis came out of my vagina and slipped into another hole. I jumped up in shock and in pain and the back of my head hit his face. I was wearing a metal hair clip at the time and it scratched his nose. He tried to put his penis back in until he realized he was bleeding.
We both ended that night in pain, although mine lasted for a few days.
One would think having sex after winning big at a casino would be a euphoric idea.
After winning a decent sum of money at Turning Stone Resort Casino near Syracuse, I felt it would be a good idea to have sex with the girl I was with. What I forgot was that I went with close to 15 people to the casino and there were four or five people already in the room once i came back from the casino floor.
After realizing there were no beds - or privacy - in the main room itself, I thought it would be a good idea to find a different alternative: the bathroom. We tried setting up blankets, pillows and comforters in the bathtub, locking the door and attempting to block out any sound that would come to the bathroom.
About halfway through, I hear about 15 or 20 bangs on the door, paired with snickering from about three or four people on the other side of the door. In my friends’ drunken states, they managed to break into the bathroom and find us naked and afraid in the bathtub.
Safe to say I didn’t finish.
Safer to say I got charged $300 for a broken bathroom door the next day upon checkout.
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