This is the road that leads to Kelly, WY (pop. like 30), near Jackson Hole. Me and my old lady in those days were on a road trip out west and had just survived the SUV-driving obese tourist shithole that is Yellowstone. Even Old Faithful was kind of lame; that fucker was like 20 minutes late. But we found ourselves staying in a two room, century-old cabin out in Kelly, surrounded by bison and in full view of the Tetons. Real romantic. We fried up some eggplants and ate outdoors as the sun set, moved inside and hung out a bit more. She was getting over a UTI so things were slow getting started and we just stayed up real late talking over deep shit. But we ended up fucking in this giant bed in the complete silence of a cabin that barely even had electricity, literally at the edge of civilization. It was good, we were feeling all tight from the night and she came a couple times. Here’s the thing, the two rooms in the cabin were the bedroom and the kitchen; there was no bathroom. So afterwards we ended up slipping out into the cold darkness, still naked, and peeing together by the side of the road, under these endless stars and the silhouette of the mountains. That might be the closest I’ve ever felt to anyone. I just wish it hadn’t still been so close to fucking Yellowstone.
My girlfriend of the time and I did it in my car a lot because we were young and didn’t want to at either of our parents houses. This lead to boning in more public spots, mostly wooded areas. One day I picked her up after school and we were driving around trying to find a place to have sex when we passed this little patch of trees surrounded by water. The next day we went back with a blanket and did the deed. It was the worst sex. That girl sucked.
The parking lot of the shitty D.C. apartment I lived in during my sophomore year of college. My boyfriend at the time and I lived at opposite ends of the building. One night we were both crazy horny, but we each lived with roommates and were both too passive to tell them to get lost for an hour. It was either fall or spring and the weather was nice, so we decided to go fuck in his car parked in the outdoor lot. I was stoked because I had always been into the idea of semi-public sex. He ate me out in the back seat and put almost his entire hand in me. We fucked for a little, but the logistics of car sex are tough. I think I ended up finishing him by hand. The apartment complex was inhabited by almost exclusively college students who were coming and going at weird hours, so we had to pause and duck a bunch. The next year we ended up living together and didn’t need to fuck in a car, which was a shame; that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.
I was 19, had just transferred schools. Never had a girlfriend up until this point. Met a friend of a friend, hit it off, and shortly after lost my v card in this house where I lived with 12 or 13 (I still can’t remember) housemates. The landlords and dog (lady and that great dane) lived above all of us. I made things really corny by playing cheesy music and having a candle, got really uncomfortable with her moans during the morning after sex, since all of my housemates were awake and I barely knew them. She was 4’11”.
SUBMIT your fucking stories.
This is the Clarion Inn in Gillette, WY
My then girlfriend and I were doing a “couples road trip” from San Diego to Baltimore, where I was about to start graduate school. As part of the road trip we planned to visit some friends in Minneapolis. Having taken the northern route across the country before, I knew of a shortcut to get from I-80 to I-90 in Wyoming, using Highway 59. Highway 59 goes from Douglas, WY to Gillette, WY through Thunder Basin National Grassland. The one issue with Highway 59 is that it is approximately 110 miles of complete and total nothingness. No houses, no exits, and no civilization whatsoever.
We got to Douglas, WY a little later than planned, maybe around 8:30pm, and had to decide if we wanted to power through to Gillette or wait until the next day. After a short debate we decided to press onward. On this particular night there were no stars and the moon was nonexistence, meaning it was REALLY DARK. I mean completely pitch black all around us except for our headlines. I’m hauling ass trying to get through the drive as quick as possible, when all of a sudden there is a loud “THUD” under the car. My girlfriend and I turn to each other with looks of terror in our eyes. Luckily, whatever we hit didn’t appear to affect the car so we continued on. About 10 minutes later there was another loud “thud”. Again, looks of fear and dread creep over our faces. Then, out of nowhere DOZENS of giant jack rabbits start darting across the road. My girlfriend starts screaming as I start annihilating the poor bastards. She goes to grab the wheel to try and avoid them, but there is no way to get around them as they are everywhere (and jerking the wheel at that speed would guarantee the car rolling over). I distinctly remember looking into the eyes of these rabbits as they turned to see my bumper milliseconds before they were decapitated. My girlfriend is freaking out and sobbing, but I assure her there is nothing we can do but keep going. During the 110 miles on Highway 59 I estimate I killed at least two dozen rabbits, and was promptly dubbed “rabbit Hitler” by my girlfriend.
When we finally arrive in Gillette, WY we are greeted by the fact that all the rooms in town are booked because of Redneck Woodstock (aka the Sturgis motorcycle rally). We try five hotels before the front desk clerk at the Clarion Inn takes pity on us and agrees to rent us a room for a cool $250. With few other options we begrudgingly plunk down the money and drag our traumatized and exhausted bodies to the room. We are so stressed from the whole ordeal that without saying a word, we both strip off all our clothes, walk into the bathroom and fuck standing up in the crappy little shower.
This is a photo of the Bennington Battle Monument in Bennington, VT. It was constructed as a memorial to a battle during the Revolutionary War (the Battle Of Bennington) during which General John Stark and 1400 New Hampshire men defeated two detachments of General Burgoyne’s British Army. It is also a place I have fucked.
In the summer of 2008, my girlfriend-at-the-time and I took a road trip down to New York so she could visit some friends and I could get a glimpse at what upstate New York was like. On the way back up to New Hampshire, driving through VT, we took a pit stop here. It’s an obelisk about 30 stories tall, with an elevator that goes to an observatory at the top. We took the elevator ride, and upon realizing we were the only two people up there, decided to get frisky. I lifted her dress up and we had standing sex next to the tall stone window, looking 200+ feet down at all of the tourists below.
This is the Highland Park Reservoir in Rochester. I had finally decided to visit a dude I’d been buddies with for more than a few years, so I took a Megabus from the city, detoured through Syracuse, and we spent our first two hours together walking through the suburbs of Henrietta with his bike making awkward conversation about Unwound and how much we hate malls. I kept looking at my shoes. Homeboy was cute.
We caught a bus in Henrietta to head back to his house where we ate garbage plates, hung out with his roommate and got super drunk.
A couple days later we saw Fire When Ready and League, ate a bunch of burritos, and tripped on acid. He took me to Highland Park once the sun went down and we fucked at the foot of the reservoir behind a bench in the dark. I remember being on top of him and feeling the drug-equivalent of invincible, wondering if anyone could see what I imagined to be my spectacular looking ass riding some dude I’d just met while six hours into a 20-hour trip. We both came, got dressed and walked home. I think I told him I was falling in love with him, and apologized a lot for how weird it must have sounded. He said he was cold and I gave him my sweater.
Seven months later, I moved to Rochester. August 2012.
This is Evergreen State College, Olympia, Washington. In lieu of going straight to college when I graduated high school, I decided to hit the open road. Good idea, right? As detailed in Overnight Drive , the Pacific Northwest was my wheelhouse for bad ideas involving ladyfriends.
This is the dorm where I slept with three girls.
All had awesome body hair and politics. I learned so much in my time squatting there. We listened to a lot of Fugazi and Bratmobile and had deep talks into the morning hours. I was so young and I realized quickly that my affinity for Biohazard and Metallica weren’t gonna cut it here. I faked it ‘til I made it. “Calvin Johnson? Sure, I’ve heard of him…”
I learned how to give oral sex here, definitively. I felt the shudder of the hips and the breathy noises for the first time. I was doing it right.
I also still have a soft spot for girls with green hair and attitudes.
Eventually I was busted sneaking food from the dining “Cafe’” and that led to a chain of events that ultimately spelled my demise. I guess colleges frown on people squatting their dorms. Blah. 1996
This is Brookville, Pennsylvania. A long-forgotten, lost-touch girlfriend and I decided to drive to her parent’s house outside of Pittsburgh to hang out for a while. They’d gone to Guatemala on a mission, so it was up to us to “take care of the house”, which meant eat a lot of Pete’s pizza and fuck in every room.
We started out well. Around two hours into the trip, we ran over a dead deer and its antlers pierced two of the four tires, leaving us assed out on a rainy, tired stretch of the Pennsylvania turnpike. We stress-argued as rain pummeled the car and big trucks passing rocked us from side to side. Windows foggy, we decided to wait out the rain and nap before planning next moves; her head in my lap and my hands in her hair.
Around 7pm the rain had subsided and we woke to the *rap *rap *rap of a Pennsylvania State Trooper knocking his Mag-Lite against the driver’s side window. I remember his name was “Officer Terry Lewis” because I’m a big fan of Rn’B producers Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis.
He was nice, but he also said in no uncertain terms could we just chill on the roadside and wait. I mentioned we were going to wait until the driving, heavy rain stopped before calling a cop for help, so this was perfect. He was still being a rigid dickhead, but he offered us a tow to a truck stop and a ride to the next town.
Riding in the back of a patrol car was a trip. He had a bunch of shit in the backseat and the heat was on 120 degrees. My girlfriend was like, SPENT FOR THE DAY ‘TUDEY and I wasn’t much better. Our lusty weekend wasn’t looking great.
The tow guy left our car at a full-service gas station near a McDonalds (Pictured Above) and Terry Lewis suggested we stay at the Super 8. We admitted defeat and walked, wet-footed to the crummy motel, got our cards and went to the room.
We immediately activated the TV and stripped, showered together and lay naked in the air-conditioned, dumpy room. She got close and wrapped her legs around mine, faces close. Lust knows no bounds and we let the stress of the day unfold between us.
In moments I was deep inside her, unprotected. It felt good to move in and out, slowly and deliberately. I remember she gasped and held the back of my neck, wide-eyed as we understood this to be our most intense sex yet - all in a shitty, forgettable motel. You never know when or where it’s going to happen, I guess. We both came and fell asleep, repeating the same scenario hours later.
Oh, the car? Window smashed, things stolen. Fuck Pennsylvania. 2003