We’ve got a secret surprise hiding under our covers this year. The Hatchet will bring you an anonymous columnist, Delilah, to report on sex at GW.
Editor’s note: Names have been changed to protect the naughty.
Thursday is usually my favorite night because it is when I get to let my hair down with some of the most amazing ladies I know. No matter what comes up in our schedules or how many papers we have due that week we always make sure to have just one designated night to laugh, cook a big dinner and drink plenty of mimosas. Last week, as my friends and I sat around our kitchen table with our mimosas in hand, my friend “Short & Blonde” curiously, asked “What was the best sex you have ever had?” And for the first time in a while I was speechless about my sex life. How was I supposed to answer this? When you have had boyfriends, flings, one-night stands and everything in between how do you just pick out one time, one guy or one orgasm and declare it, him or that night the blue-ribbon bang?
As my friends moved on to another topic of discussion, I still anxiously scrolled through my sexual experiences like songs on an iPod. One after the other, the emotional guy, the chain-smoking hippie, the “really liked my boobs guy-” flashed before me like a bunch of weird erotic indie song titles. Eventually I did stop scrolling through my sexual encounters iPod and knew which one by far had to be the one. You have heard of him before and you will probably hear about him again, my unforgettable hero Hercules.
Hercules. The name says it all. From the moment he came into my life he was larger than life, exquisitely handsome and yet somehow always an arms length away. I compare every guy I have met since to him. Hercules was elusive, did not like to give details and sometimes was stiff with affection. There were things that Hercules did that infuriated me like how he never understood why I was sad to only find an e-mail or two in my inbox when he spent a month or two away on a submarine cruise with the Navy. Yet the way he held me with so much might and his knack for surprising me made me fall for him over and over. Hercules and I had absolutely nothing in common, but the unpredictability, the chemistry and the way that every moment with him felt like a chapter out of an epic love story kept me coming back for more.
I certainly did not give Hercules his nickname for his rock-hard body and amazing skills. Although Hercules was my extraordinary hero, even heroes are not always perfect. Hercules was not the kinkiest sex or the wildest sex I have ever had, but he was by far the best because, well, I loved him. No matter which way I think about it, I know what made him my best, my biggest, my most memorable and my blue ribbon had little do with sex. What it did have a lot to do with was the understanding, longing and adoration we both felt. In life there are no perfect lays, A+++s or perfect people. There are plenty imperfect people, imperfect situations and imperfect sex. From these imperfections, I’ve learned that love just might be finding that sort of imperfect person and seeing them perfectly.