KNOCK KNOCK
Today’s contributor learns the value of the old sock on the doorknob
My boyfriend and I were hanging out in his dorm room one night and an impromptu make-out session started to get pretty heated. We started having sex, but in typical dorm-room-sex form, it was hurried and muted — I still had my shirt on and we were trying to be quiet so as not to disturb out neighbors. Still, we were both really getting into it. As I straddled him facing the door, I realized the doorknob was starting to turn.
I started to freak out because I realized that my guy had not locked the door, as neither one of us planned on having sex at the time. (Let’s face it, the best times are always the spontaneous ones.) As the doorknob is turning, the door is opening and I’m yelling at the top of my lungs, “No! Don’t come in!”
Did I mention that my boyfriend’s roommate is one of those guys that doesn’t go anywhere on campus without his iPod. He must have been listening to something good because he strolled right on in and just stared at us. It was mortifying, as we were still doing the deed. My boyfriend didn’t even realize that the door had opened and his roommate was watching us getting primal, until I shrieked and officially freaked out.
After about ten excruciatingly long seconds, and my boyfriend yelling “GET OUT!” the roommate finally left. Needless to say, that awful ten seconds was just enough to kill it for us, and none of us discussed the incident ever again. Well, at least I had my shirt on, right?
