Archive for the 'College' Category
Submitted by Ed, Age 28, NYC
When I was in college I had this big crush on this girl in my psychology class. One day I’m walking to the door and she comes out of it, and she’s kind of standing in the middle of the door, but still holding it open for me, so I have to squeeze by her. And I get nervous and confused whether to say “Excuse me” or “Thank you” and you know what I say?
“Skank.”
That’s what came out. No joke. And she looks at me like I…uh…well…just called her a skank. Which I did. So…I just busted into the room and pretty much had to let that one go. I don’t think there was any recovery from that.
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Submitted by Brian, Age 24, Boston, MA
I’m in college. Diane is the hottest girl I’ve ever dated, and things couldn’t be going better. Tonight is gonna be the night we finally have sex, I just know it! We meet for dinner and drinks. She’s looking fine and so am I. My best friend Becca helped me pick out these uber cool linen pants and I’m wearing my silk boxers for the occasion. Pretty soon, though, I realize the problem with this outfit. I’ve got a hard on that just won’t quit, and there is absolutely NO WAY to hide it. The more I try to talk myself down, the harder I get. We leave dinner and walk across campus. I’m dancing like Michael Jackson to try not to let Diane or anyone else notice the all too obvious bulge in my loose thin slacks.
We hit up a party. There will be many people I know there. This is going to be a disaster. As soon as we enter the door, I manage to slip into a bathroom and take a moment to myself. I’ve tried talking my little friend down, I’ve tried a few drinks. Utterly out of options, I decide to take matters into my own hands and I discreetly whack off into the toilet. There. Problem solved. I wait till my friend is grounded and I reemerge into the party.
But suddenly Diane doesn’t want to stay at the party anymore. She wants to head back to her room. I oblige. Can you see where this is going yet? That’s right. We get undressed, ready to have sex, and I . . . can’t. My drinking has turned me into a one shot wonder, and that one shot was fired back in the bathroom by myself. The ensuing battle with the gods of refractory vengeance was ugly at best. What could I say to Diane? Every excuse sounded lame and was. To make matters worse, this ended up being our last date. I never got a chance to prove to Diane that I actually wasn’t the world’s worst lover. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.
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Submitted by Drew, Age 21, Toronto
My first week on the campus residence at college was typical: meet a ton of new people, make a ton of new friends, get hammered, and preform various acts of debauchery.
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Submitted by Certified Douchebag, Age 19, Pennsylvania
How about this one: You’re dating this girl, and things have been going well. You’ve fooled around naked before, but haven’t had sex yet. You’re thinking it could be any day now.
Then her grandfather dies. She leaves school for a week. She comes back and keeps having other plans, so it takes you forever to see her again. After a long while, she invites you to her dorm, you have a couple beers, and FINALLY you’re making out on her bed. But she’s still kind of sad about the whole grandfather being dead thing. You kiss her and touch her as she talks. Your patience is getting short, your balls blue. She says, “I think my grandfather would have really wanted to see me graduate.”
You say, “I think your grandfather would have really wanted you to take off your shirt.” She says nothing, and because you’re fondling her breasts, you don’t see her eyes, which probably look shocked, not believing you said what you just said. So you go even further, guiding her hand to your crotch, saying “I think your grandfather would have really wanted you to touch my penis too.”
That’s when she tells you to get the fuck out, and you realize how stupid, insensitive, and not at all funny you’ve been. You want to kick yourself in the head. But you don’t, because your legs don’t work that way. So you go back to your room, look at internet porn, and then tell the world about your stupidity on some site about not getting laid.
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Submitted by Julie, Age 29, Boston, MA
I met Richard in college. We hit it off right away and were good friends from the start, but never more (one of us always seemed to be in a relationship, and frankly, dating him never really crossed my mind). In fact, as he was a pretty shy guy, I occasionally set up dates for him with other girls!
After we graduated, we both moved to New York, where we ended up seeing each other nearly every weekend. One Friday night, I was out with him and a bunch of his friends, and we ended up back at his apartment. We often stayed at each other’s places - we were friends, after all, it was “no big deal,” as I often told my skeptical girlfriends - and, as usual, I ended up crashing on his futon around 2am. Sometime around 3 or 4, I decided, screw being friends, I really liked him, and more importantly, I wanted to get laid. So I crawled into his bed, told him I was “cold” and got under the covers. (Most of us girls have used this line at some point - guys, if a girl gets in your bed and tells you she’s cold, chances are she wants to hook up. If she was actually cold, she would just ask if you could lend her a blanket.)
I don’t remember his exact response, though it had something to do with me being pretty and him being glad I was there. I should point out here that I am a pretty big moron when it comes to guys - I never read the signals right - so, seeing as we were “just friends,” I decided he couldn’t possibly mean anything by it. Despite his shyness, if he was really interested, I thought, he would actually make a move.
Needless to say, he didn’t, and we spent the next 5 hours lying next to each other, wide awake and not touching. We’re still friends, but I’ve never had the opportunity to throw myself at him again, and considering how miserably I failed the first time, I probably never will.
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Submitted by Casey, Age 24, Boulder, CO
I’m in college. One date away from finally boning Wanda Lewis, and that date is tonight. I think about her perfect pair bouncing around in those tight tank tops she always wears as we IM to confirm our plans. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.
A new window pops up. It’s my boy Evan who wants me to come out to a rager tonight at SAE.
“2nite? u fuckin crazy bro? i’m boning wanda lewis 2nite.”
That ought to make him jealous.
“excuse me?”
Oh yeah, he’s pretending like he doesn’t know her. That asshole. He knows EXACTLY who I’m talking about.
“u know, tank top girl with the tits from murray’s econ class.”
No reply. Then I read:
“casey, are you IM-ing with someone else?”
Holy hell. I’ve been typing in the wrong box.
I am the biggest idiot in the world.
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(Wasn’t sure whether to post this one as it’s about me, but my girlfriend told me I had no choice. Though it is difficult, I’ll resist the urge to add any commentary, and I won’t even object to being described as “goofy.” Just don’t get too many ideas. — SF)
Submitted by “How Ironic!”
I actually knew the founder of this site in college, and every girl I knew at the time, including several who were absolutely clear that they were lesbians, had a HUGE crush on him! I guess if one of us had made a move, this great and funny site wouldn’t exist, though. I did kiss him in a play, and EVERYONE was jealous : ) I guess he was completely clueless… which, ironically, was probably part of his appeal! Luckily, this story has a happy ending, since he has a girlfriend now. : )
So, for all you cute, goofy guys out there, sometimes you just have to go for it!
Good luck!
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Submitted by Rich, Age 26, Oakland, CA
I was in college and really hot for this girl. We’d hooked up and teetered on the brink of full-blown sex, but the timing of her monthly cycle had prevented us from going all the way. Then I skipped town — more bad timing — for an extended Spring Break in Russia. For the two weeks I was gone, I fantasized about her constantly. We exchanged a couple flirty e-mails. I was crazy with anticipation, and I arranged to see her on the very night I got back. I couldn’t WAIT to get it on with this girl.
Only one thing I hadn’t counted on: jetlag. My last night in St. Petersburg, I partied straight through till morning. My logic was that this would make it easier to sleep on the plane. No such luck. Door to door it was a twenty hour day of travel, and I hardly slept a wink on any of my three flights. I got home barely an hour before I was set to have my date, and I was running on pure adrenaline.
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Submitted by LilB, Age 29, Philly
The Setting: A small New England campus named after a Supreme Court justice. Let’s just call it Scalia College. Good ol’ Scalia had an active and influential population of religious fundamentalists of a certain persuasion (won’t name names but when you think of Hollywood and international banking, they’re high on the list). Scalia was also not known for its attractive students. Women who in the rest of the world would rate at best a 5 (in low light and when you’re intoxicated) would suddenly be bumped up to a 7 or 8 at Scalia. This is what we called the “Scalia hot” phenomenon.
Anyway, there was one woman who was of this fundamentalist persuasion, who was “Scalia hot.” She had a huge rack and was well known on campus for being one of these religious types. I had been trying to get into her pants for months, but her fundamentalist beliefs and mode of clothing wouldn’t allow for it. Not that I didn’t try and she didn’t lead me on. She was very flirtatious and suggestive, but the line was drawn at some mild cuddling on the couch watching TV, or at best, in her room in a suite with the door wide open.
Until one night. Many students at Scalia in one particular set of dorms - the same quad where the lady of this story lived - had figured out how to pirate cable. In the mid to late 90s, pirated college cable equaled pirated college cable porn. Jackpot!
One night, I’m in her room. She shuts the door. We flip on the TV, start surfing through the channels … and she stops. On the porn channel. I think this is my chance. Can you tell how this story ends?) She leans over and kisses me. What do I do?
I keep watching the porn.
That’s why I’m posting this story to a site called How Not to Get Laid, and not Penthouse Forum.
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It was a small New England college - one devoid of the traditional raucous party scene that peppers the imagination when one thinks of college…or Girls Gone Wild. On this dreamy little campus, a wild night out consisted of hanging at the campus coffeehouse to hear the “hot” a capella group of the moment. On this particular evening, however, I was hoping for something more …
I was chilling out with a group of outcasts and miscreants - the typical sort that declares “Theatre Arts” as a major. And yes, I was one of them. We inhaled a little inhalant and imbibed an intoxicant or two to mellow out the mood. Then we settled into the dorm room of the femme fatale in question, which we filled with music both acoustic and deep.
As the conversation flowed, I found myself becoming more intrigued with “Emily” with each passing minute. We were both seated on her bed, but were separated by two others. As the evening wore on, one-by-one the group began to dissipate. Finally, I found myself alone with Emily sitting on her bed, just talking the night away. Despite our proximity, despite our privacy, I was not quite sure if we were just talking as friends, or if she was sending me signals. So we just talked some more. 2am, 3am and on….by 6am we had talked ourselves out, and decided it was time to call it a night….or morning. A quick hug at the door was all that I managed, and I left tired and disappointed. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t picking up any signals from Emily, but determined the next time we were alone, I was definitely going to make a move. Sadly, there was no next time.
Years later, I found out that Emily was perplexed I never made a move on her that night. Clearly, she thought being alone with her in her room on her bed throughout the wee hours of the night and morning was a fairly strong signal. In hindsight, that sounds like a pretty strong signal to me too.
Submitted by Jackson Caribou, Age 29, Boston, MA
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Unlike most college buddies who play the role of “wingman,” my group of friends thought it was hilarious to cockblock each other by any means necessary.
I was bringing a girl back to my dorm room (freshman in college) and things were going great (By great, I mean we were both really drunk). However, when we entered my room, the mood was ruined by a TITANIC movie poster pinned up on the wall over my bed. I tried to explain that my friends must have gotten back from the bar before us and planted it there as a joke. She wasn’t buying it, and clearly thought I had a thing for the movie.
“Why would your friends do that?” she asked dubiously. “You don’t know my friends,” I replied, but it was too late. I had lost her like Rose lost Jack to the Atlantic Ocean.
I DID find out which friend pulled the prank and got him back later that week while he was talking to a girl at the bar. “Hey Steve! How’s that herpes coming along?” I said with a pat on his back and then walked away. Steve didn’t get laid either.
Submitted by Chad, Age 27, Los Angeles
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(I love this story because it represents exactly what this website should be about: learning and personal growth. Heed the warning, children! — SF)
Practically everyone experiments with some type of drugs when they are college. For me, I was pretty much the “pot guy” who occasionally dabbled in other drugs when offered but never actively sought out or bought any for myself. So, it was on the last night of my college career that I found myself on the losing end of a multi-drug “cocktail”, causing me to lose my big chance (or so I thought) with the one girl I had really wanted to bang throughout my five years at school.
Every year, on the last day of classes in spring, the “hot girl” sorority threw its annual graduation party at the beach. It is THE party of the year with the hottest girls. Even the hot girls who weren’t in the sorority did everything to get in. So, I found myself pre-partying at my buddy’s apartment beforehand, and, naturally, we were all psyched to be ending our days in college on a “high” note.
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(78 votes, average: 4.54 out of 5)
(24 votes, average: 4 out of 5)