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Creaming Spires: Michaelmas 0th Week

Last year Ms Tration titillated Oxford with her and her boyfriend’s take on various sexy shenanigans. I am a single girl without a loving lab rat to call my own, but endowed with a sex drive so cunt-achingly ludicrous that only Russell Brand could hope to satiate me. Los Angeles, however, is hard to get to from Cowley, so the sometimes sordid offerings of an eclectic student body will have to do instead.

I would have liked to start this term’s column with an anecdote about a steamy night with an alluring young fresher.  Sadly the only thing which has been persuaded to get intimate with my nether regions this week is a family of very excitable bedbugs, so I offer you instead a sexperiment from my summer.

What is it about sex in public? The novelty? The thrilling possibility that Mrs Gupta at number 29 might be assaulted with the sight of your triumphant willy as she takes the bins out? A simple desire for a soothing breeze? Someone tell me, because after letting my own beef curtains out for an airing I am none the wiser.

‘Ever done it outside?’ my Holiday Romance proposed in his knee-weakening Irish lilt. Putting my misgivings aside in the name of Funny Stories, I allowed him to lead me through night-time Prague on a quest for a suitably charming car park. We didn’t find one. We did, however, find Charles’ Bridge, a majestic piece of fourteenth-century architecture covered in saintly statues, crowning jewel of the city. We decided to shag on it.

Stripping should’ve been the easy part; my long-suffering friends will tell you that I need very little persuasion to get my flesh out of its wrappings. But everything felt a tad too exposed- perhaps it was the moonlight, or the fact that my pubes were stirring slightly in the wind. Or perhaps it was that swiftly-approaching group of tourists over there. Holiday Romance determinedly swung his now oddly luminescent buttocks to and fro. St John of Nepomuk regarded us coldly as I clung onto his stone robe for support.

‘HAHA those two are FUCKING!’ Oh gawd… Realising that I had spent more time in the last five minutes rehearsing apologies to phantom policemen than enjoying myself, I decided enough was enough.

There wasn’t nothing to be said about my sojourn into the world of exhibitionism. The view was great.

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