Last week, I asked you all to think long and hard about your craziest sexual experience. And you guys responded in full. Along with Peter in Hillel, you Brown students seem to have taken this campus by storm, from the Quiet Green to the roof of Metcalf to the foursome just last month! WOW!
But Harvard may have beaten us in the kinky department. Last week, The Crimson posted that an organization on its campus, the Harvard College Munch, a group of students that meets (usually over lunch or dinner) to discuss issues relating to kinky sex, has been officially approved by the Committee on Student Life. The club began as an informal meeting of students interested in all aspects of the BDSM acronym (which stands for Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, and Sadism and Masochism) and has since grown into a 30-member operation.
Mae, a member of the club, is quoted in the article as saying, “I didn’t think that anyone was even remotely interested [in kink] on campus. It’s a community where you can feel safe, and you can feel comfortable talking about [kink].” Michael, the founder of Munch, too said, “Pretty much everyone who joins this club always thought they were alone.”
There is nothing like sitting in your favorite booth at the Diner talking about sex. And this Thanksgiving break, I talked a lot of sex. The conversation was not censored in any way. My friends and I spoke as loudly and openly as we wanted, without reservation or concern that families sitting just a short distance away. It was as nonchalant as discussing the weather, except this conversation happened to be a deeply revealing and detailed account of my friend Jack’s first ever threesome, less than three months into his freshman year of college.
What can I say? Jack moves fast. And as Jack’s story was winding down and he was regaling me with the tale of walking his debauched and drunk self across campus and to bed on legs that could not stop shaking, I began thinking about the rest of my friends from home and their seemingly wild sex lives. My friend Hope is perhaps the most perfect example. After I picked her up from the airport on Saturday morning, her neck covered in hickeys (she should’ve checked out my techniques from last week for help with those!), she showed me the massage candle she and her girlfriend just bought and planned to use next time they’re together. These candles melt at lower temperatures than normal candles, so when you pour the wax on the skin, it doesn’t burn you, but creates a warming sensation and makes you feel kind of dangerous.
She and her girlfriend are very much into experimentation: not too long ago she sent me a picture of these pearl handcuffs that she had bought and also enlisted my help in finding a good chocolate body paint (I recommended the Kama Sutra brand Lover’s Body Paint. They come in milk chocolate, dark chocolate raspberry, and rich caramel). But I used the reviews online rather than my own personal experience to help her out with her decision because I had never used the paints myself. Most of my own recent sexual experiences have been vanilla in comparison to Hope’s and Jack’s. I, unlike Hope, have never had sex in the slaves’ quarters at a Colonial Williamsburg-type living history museum. I don’t think I know anyone else who has. I don’t think I know anyone at Brown who has even come close.