Last year I devoted an entire column to horrifying true stories of desperate and/or depressing holiday sex. This year I’m devoting an entire column to my readers’ favorite, fondest, and most cherished (sex-related) holiday experiences. Enjoy.
I entered college an 18-year-old virgin. Instead of screwing every frat boy on campus, I fell in love with the shy nerd down the hall. The first night I ended up in his bed he informed me that he would be more comfortable if we “kept our clothes on for now.” He had planned to become a monk until a year before we met, and he was easing himself into “sins of the flesh.”
Just before Christmas break, he decided he was ready for us to lose our virginity. I loved him so much and I was so glad that I would be sharing this magical moment with him. But the sex was awkward and painful.
At Christmas, he came to visit. Something about being in my parents’ home, all that pumpkin pie and wholesomeness, made us randy. When we got into bed that night sex finally felt like we had always imagined it! We stayed up all night and tried everything. That was the first time we really fucked.
Two years later, we’re living together, in love, and still fucking like porn stars. I even got a pumpkin-scented candle so we can re-create the atmosphere of that fateful night. —A Sex Life At Last
When I was 16 and a virgin, I asked a cute girl at our school dance if she would like to dance with me. We danced for a long time, and during a slow song she wiggled up against me. I got an erection, which mortified me, but she giggled and whispered, “that feels good.” A minute later she said, “I want to go somewhere private.” We found a small room used for storage. She put her finger to my lips, dropped to her knees, and blew me with more skill than anyone since. She finished with a swallow, tucked me back in, and we went back to the party. —Blown At School In Colorado
I was 22, and my boyfriend was smoking so much pot he hardly ever wanted to get it on. I was getting edgy because I couldn’t figure out how to get myself off, despite hours of trying.
On Christmas, tired of my family, I went to visit my best friend, a gay guy. Suddenly he announced, “I want some porn.” We drove to the 24-hour adult bookstore. My friend, having listened to my tale of woe, said, “You really need to have a vibrator.” So on Christmas night, $20 from my grandma in my pocket, I selected a little bullet-shaped vibrator. The clerk smirked. “No charge to the newbie,” she said. When I dropped my friend off he said, “Don’t forget the clitoris. Merry Christmas, you ho-ho-ho!”
At my parents’ house I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the shower to cover the noise. As the room filled with steam I began to explore. About 30 minutes later it became the merriest Christmas ever. I called my friend and thanked him.
I realized then I didn’t need to have a boyfriend. I had plenty of people to hang out with and now I could get myself off. It was a sexual revolution/revelation for me. I broke up with the stoner. Two months later I bought a heavy-duty personal massager. We had many happy nights together until last Christmas when my spouse bought me a Hitachi Magic Wand. —Worked Every Time
A few years back my brother’s girlfriend stopped by to give me some “Hanukkah weed,” saying that weed and sex go great together. Needless to say, we celebrated Hanukkah with eight crazy nights of extraordinary weed-fueled sex. Since then weed has been dubbed “Hanukkah presents” in my crowd. We spend a lot of time lighting up the menorah. —Celebrating The Festival Of Lights In NY
During our campus Christmas break, we had a Christmas-themed party at our house. My girlfriend of two years had just told me that she had cheated on me, and this was my first party since our breakup. Much to my chagrin, she showed up.
For some reason, after many drinks, she motioned for me to go back to the bathroom with her. Once inside, she proceeded to blow me. When the time came, I pulled out to surprise her with a Christmas facial (which she would never let me do when we were together). My wad hit her right underneath the left nostril. When she recoiled in surprise, she took a quick sniffle through her nose, causing her to accidentally snort up my eggnog. This shock of snorting spunk caused her to vomit in the shower. I was wearing a Santa suit at the time. —Sign Off Here, OK?
I was in Kentucky courtesy of the Army. After a crappy chow hall Christmas dinner about 10 of us gathered in one barracks room. In honor of the occasion, and as a “fuck you” to the military, we all pulled out our illicit liquor.
One guy was tall, tan, blond and charismatic. When the group of tipsy soldiers broke up around midnight, we went back to his room. He put on some music and sat down beside me on the bed. We talked about being alone on Christmas. We held hands. We kissed. That Christmas night we had tender sex for the first and last time. Neither of us wanted any attention paid to our “thing” because we had to work together and live together, so we let it drop.
We were deployed to Saudi Arabia for the Gulf War. The following fall I left the Army. We lost touch until this past fall, when a friend of mine who’s still in the Army ran into him in Iraq. Last Sunday, I received word that he was killed.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about him this week, about his athleticism, goofy sense of humor, about his honesty and sympathy and good heart. I wanted to share my memory of our Christmas together. —Rest In Peace
Thanks for sharing, ASLAL, WET, CTFOLINY, BASIC, SOHO, and RIP. And happy holidays, everybody.
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