BY BRITTANY DEVRIES
It’s an interesting notion, that, when at the blooming of our sexual curiosity, we find ourselves in a gated brick community where the fountains plead for midnight skinny dipping, the downtown liquor stores don’t question that your name is Booge McFee from Kansas, the amphitheater has inhaled the smoke from many bongs, and the residence halls, after the desk aid signs off and goes home, find an equal number of girls and guys in every room.
Perhaps our peers’ relaxed nature in the day, sipping on a soda, studying a book, smiling at the administration, does not reveal to visiting high schoolers and nervous parents that we act like gorillas on the prowl come the setting of the sun.
Sexual drive is budding in all of us. Even in the daytime, we expose our sexual desires in small, hinting ways. Those skinny dips and number exchanges for a study date at Hyperion are simply a ticket through the entrance of this hormonal theme park.
Professional studies stereotype the way young men and young women differentiate in their sexual desires. WebMD states that men “think more about sex,” “seek sex more avidly,” while women’s “sexual inclinations are more complicated than men’s,” are more influenced by “social and cultural factors,” and seek a “less direct route to sexual satisfaction.”
Guys on campus walk stroll with a particular swagger and smile, leaving behind their air of contentment with a scent of Old Spice and Axe. If they weren’t trying to smell good, they’d smell like bar soap or no soap.
By the way, when male eyes wander around the room on the first day of class, and the scanning pauses on the well-endowed girl in the second row, those wandering eyes are wandering her blouse right off her chest.
When we are sitting down to our usual spots in class, girls wear summer skirts and heels, with lip gloss laid out just so, right beside their pen, for periodic application and pouty lip maintenance.
See that slight pink blush in the girl’s cheeks sitting in the front row. It’s the girl whose name you can never catch. That blush and nervous pen tapping isn’t because she’s worried about a test, it’s that she had a half hour to spare before class so she put her fingers up that chiffon skirt and bit her lips to the youporn.com video of British lesbians.
Her heart rate is still high, and she wonders if anyone can read right through her lip gloss and hair tie.
WebMD obviously hasn’t done its research well enough, because the sexual intensity firing up in a young woman’s eyes is as horny as the man she is scoping out, and that lesbian pornography is just as satisfying for the girls.
UMW students have a demeanor about them, a demeanor that blushes when the word is mentioned in class, smile innocently at the Monroe fountain and feel that sunbathing girls on Ball Circle should only show so much skin.
Perhaps, though, the blushes and conservative attitude are because it would be awfully perverse to admit that we are entirely on the same page.