You’re at a house party or a bar… or in line to get into a house party or bar. It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are, you’ve just spotted a very handsome boy and you want to talk to him. You turn to your friends and point him out.

“OMG, girl, he IS hot. Go to him,” they say. Then you spend the next 5 minutes debating the best conversation starter/reapplying lip gloss/yanking your shirt down a wee bit lower to show off the girls. When everything is in order (“Do I have anything in my teeth??” you ask your friends as you flash a big, toothy smile), you move in.

Due to some extreme Power Houring before leaving the house, your friends are feeling rather rambunctious. As you make your way to get a drink, they shove you into the boy. Not part of the carefully laid out plan, but that move has been known to work wonders in the past.

You grab the boy’s arm (which feels nice and muscley through that button-down shirt of his) and apologize for your friends. He smiles at you. [Swoon.] You offer to buy him a drink to replace the one that spilled when you fell into him. He offers to buy you one instead.

It’s already working.

While waiting at the bar for a bartender (any bartender) to look your way, you start chatting with the boy. You get his name (which you may or may not forget .25 seconds later), his major, his hometown….the usual. Then you start chatting about more important things, like why Vodka and Soda is better than Jack and Coke any day.

As time passes, you start getting a bit closer. First, he rests his arm next to yours on the bar as you sip your drink. Then he puts it around you as someone passes by. When you walk away from the bar, he puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you. When you bump into his friends and start talkin’, he puts his arm around your shoulder (and you put your hand on the small of his back). Then he starts rubbing your back….

Then his tongue is down your throat and he’s nibbling on your ear in the back corner by the bathroom. And you are getting goose bumps/weak in the knees.

You silently celebrate your success as you debate what to do with the full drink in your hand. You pull away for a second, put that sucker down and start running your hands through the boy’s hair.

While making out in public is completely socially acceptable in college watering holes, knowing your friends (and the rest of the bar) are watching from the corner skeeves you out. You ask the boy if he wants to go. You both pound your drinks, you not-so-seductively wipe the inevitable drips off your face with the back of your hand, then he grabs your hand and you head back to his place… where you wake up 6 hours later under a dirty sheet listening to him snore.

—

Yeah, we’ve all been there. If we were smart, we stuck around for a morning romp. If we were lucky, we got a ride home. If not, we stuck our bra in our purse, wiped the mascara from our cheek and did the run/walk home as we attempted to avoid snickers from strangers on their way to class.

Before my boyfriend and I were “officially” dating, he rarely stayed overnight. He had some weird moral stance on that topic, but it was totally okay to get it on and then peace out. Whatevs. Anyway, the few times he did stay over just happened to be when he mysteriously (and belligerently) found his way by foot, by DD, or by other interesting means of transportation to my dorm.

On this particular night, Alex (names have been changed) called me to come let him into my dorm. I didn’t realize how truly schmammered he was until I found him hiding behind the vending machine waiting to jump out and scare me. He picked me up and proceeded to carry me into the elevator. Thank God he didn’t try to carry me up the three flights of stairs to my room.

As Alex drunkenly tried to make out with me in the elevator, I already knew this would be a long night. I was particularly upset because I had an 8am class the next morning and it was already 1:30. We finished the journey to my room and I begged him to be quiet as to not wake my roommates. After yelling “OKAY!” I shoved him into my room.

Now normally, I wouldn’t usually pass up a sexy time opportunity, but I was tired. And the smell of whiskey and sweat doesn’t quite turn me on. Not to mention the blubbering jibberish coming out of Alex’s mouth was the complete antithesis of sexy. I managed to convince him that morning sex would be more fun, and he sprawled out on my twin XL and passed out. Once he was snoring, I wedged myself onto a tiny sliver of bed still available, half my body dangling over the edge.

All of a sudden I am woken up by a stupified Alex climbing over me and stumbling around my room. He collected himself, looked at me, grunted, and walked toward my closet. He then continued to whip it out and relieve himself on my closet doors. You heard me right – Alex peed on my closet.

I was near tears at this point (3am, mind you), and I stormed out into the kitchen to grab paper towels. One of my roommates, Michelle, was awake and came out to see what was going on. I told her what happened, and she tried not to laugh. I glared and went back into my new bathroom to try and clean up the mess. Alex had sprawled himself out on my bed again. After laying some paper towels over my carpet, I climbed back into bed. No more than 30 minutes later, he was stumbling over me again. Alex tried to pee on my closet a second time, yelling, “Trust me it’s fine” over and over. Hell to the no.

I pushed him out into the hallway and tried to move him into an actual bathroom. He was not happy about this, and in his anger, opened my other roommate Sarah’s room and tried to pee on her closet! Using all of my strength, I pulled him into the real bathroom, trying my best not to yell. I closed the door and held onto it so he couldn’t get out until he cooperated. I eventually let him out, and he slowly made his way back onto my bed, passing out for the final time.

The two hours of sleep I got that night were great, until I woke up to see find the stains on my floor weren’t just a bad dream. I finally woke up Alex, handed him some cleaning supplies, quickly explained how much of a hot mess he was and said, “Start cleaning. I want my room spotless when I get back from class.” I grabbed my books and left.

Luckily, when I returned a few hours later for a much needed nap, my room was spotless.

[Everyone's got a morning-after story and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we'll post it - anonymously, of course - right here!]

Got a health question? Don’t trust those “Doctors” at the University Health Center? Are you scared of Web M.D. because it always tells you you’re gonna die? Ask a real doctor, like our friend Dr. Lissa Rankin. She’s here every Thursday to answer whatever you throw at her – like why you can’t get any sleep – so ask away. Leave your question in the comments or send it over to us. Don’t be shy; she’s waiting for ya!

Q: I’m not really sure if you’re the right person to ask but I’m really not sure who else to go to with this. Basically, I’ve been with my boyfriend for 4 months now. We just started to have sex but he can never seem to…keep it up. I don’t know if it’s something I’m doing (or not doing…), and I don’t know if this is something we can fix? Is there something I should do? And how do I even talk to him about this? He gets really upset after it happens (or doesn’t happen) and I just don’t know what to do here. This has never happened to me before…

A: Thank you for trusting us with what is, undeniably, a delicate issue. It’s funny.  If women have issues with decreased libido or sexual performance, we tend to discuss these things with our girlfriends, ask questions openly, and put our cards on the table. But men- forget it! You don’t hear men sitting around the coffee shop discussing their erectile dysfunction. But I wish they would. Making it a taboo subject shrouded with embarrassment serves no one.

I don’t know how old your boyfriend is, but the incidence of erectile dysfunction increases with age. If your boyfriend is young, chances are good that his issue may be caused by a medication side effect (anti-depressants are classic erection killers) or alcohol or drug use (alcohol increases the desire but decreases the performance). If he’s older, health conditions like high blood pressure or diabetes could play a role.  Often, the problem is psychological. Perhaps he’s worried that he’s not pleasuring you, and the more he worries, the more he droops.

Try talking to your boyfriend, but make sure not to do it in bed. He’s already feeling fragile and vulnerable when he loses his woodie, so there’s no point adding salt to his wound. Bring up the conversation when you’re both fully dressed. Let him know you care about him and genuinely wish to find solutions so you can both enjoy each other’s bodies. Ask him how he feels and share how you feel in a gentle, nonjudgmental way. Suggest that he see his doctor, who might be able to help him investigate the issue. If drugs or alcohol regularly play a role in your sex life, try skipping it or play around with morning sex, when men tend to be a bit more randy.

Do what you can to make him feel safe. The more he feels pressured to perform, the more likely he is to lose his erection. You may find that it helps to break the cycle by avoiding intercourse for a while. Snuggle.  Kiss.  Fool around. Try oral sex or manual sex if you wish.  But stay around from sexual acts that have an expected outcome.

Keep in mind that your relationship is relatively new, and some things work themselves out in time. Perhaps, he’s just so into you that he gets freaked out. If none of this helps and you’re committed to making this relationship work, consider seeing a sex therapist.  His doctor may even recommend Viagra, if he’s a good candidate for it.  If you really care for each other, you’ll find a way…

Wishing you bliss,
Dr. Lissa

- Dr. Lissa Rankin’s book, What’s Up Down There? Questions You’d Only Ask Your Gynecologist If She Was Your Best Friend, will be published by St. Martin’s Press in Fall 2010. She invites you to join her Pink online community (www.owningpink.com/forum) or read more of her writing at Owning Pink (www.owningpink.com).

You’re at a house party or a bar… or in line to get into a house party or bar. It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are, you’ve just spotted a very handsome boy and you want to talk to him. You turn to your friends and point him out.

“OMG, girl, he IS hot. Go to him,” they say. Then you spend the next 5 minutes debating the best conversation starter/reapplying lip gloss/yanking your shirt down a wee bit lower to show off the girls. When everything is in order (“Do I have anything in my teeth??” you ask your friends as you flash a big, toothy smile), you move in.

Due to some extreme Power Houring before leaving the house, your friends are feeling rather rambunctious. As you make your way to get a drink, they shove you into the boy. Not part of the carefully laid out plan, but that move has been known to work wonders in the past.

You grab the boy’s arm (which feels nice and muscley through that button-down shirt of his) and apologize for your friends. He smiles at you. [Swoon.] You offer to buy him a drink to replace the one that spilled when you fell into him. He offers to buy you one instead.

It’s already working.

While waiting at the bar for a bartender (any bartender) to look your way, you start chatting with the boy. You get his name (which you may or may not forget .25 seconds later), his major, his hometown….the usual. Then you start chatting about more important things, like why Vodka and Soda is better than Jack and Coke any day.

As time passes, you start getting a bit closer. First, he rests his arm next to yours on the bar as you sip your drink. Then he puts it around you as someone passes by. When you walk away from the bar, he puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you. When you bump into his friends and start talkin’, he puts his arm around your shoulder (and you put your hand on the small of his back).  Then he starts rubbing your back….

Then his tongue is down your throat and he’s nibbling on your ear in the back corner by the bathroom. And you are getting goose bumps/weak in the knees.

You silently celebrate your success as you debate what to do with the full drink in your hand. You pull away for a second, put that sucker down and start running your hands through the boy’s hair.

While making out in public is completely socially acceptable in college watering holes, knowing your friends (and the rest of the bar) are watching from the corner skeeves you out. You ask the boy if he wants to go. You both pound your drinks, he grabs your hand and you head back to his place… where you wake up 6 hours later under a dirty sheet listening to him snore.

Yeah, we’ve all been there. And if we were smart, we stuck around for a morning romp.

Q: My sex drive is through the roof, and I can easily have sex twice a day, every day…but my boyfriend is a different story. He’s fine only having sex once or twice a week. We’ve been together for almost a year, but we’ve been fighting about this more and more lately, usually after he brushes me off if I’m trying to “seduce” him, at which point I usually make passive aggressive statements about how I should find someone who DOES want to have sex with me. I feel bad for saying it, but I’m also starting to believe it! Aren’t guys supposed to dream of having a girlfriend that wants to have sex all the time? What should I do?

A: I can sympathize–I’m also the sex fiend in my relationship, and it can be really frustrating. Here’s the thing, though — I don’t think twice weekly sex is really a problem, at least not in the way that once-every-3-months sex would be a problem. Seems to me that’s it’s just a preference and not indicative of how attractive and sexy he finds you. Only you know for yourself if it’s a dealbreaker or not.

I think a lot of the frustration might actually be coming from how the situation is handled, and less so the frequency of sex. Start by changing how you fight. I completely understand your passive-aggressive reaction (and I’ve so been there), but it’s only making him more defensive and not open to talking about it. Try bringing it up during a neutral time–not before, during, or after sex (or the rejection of sex)–and explain it to him in “I” statements: “I don’t feel good about myself when you brush off my advances.”

Get his walls down and appeal to his sensitive side before you continue with questioning–ask him if his sex drive has always been like this with past girlfriends. Ask him why he turns down sex when he does–is he tired? Stressed? Does he prefer morning sex instead of nighttime nooky?” You might just need to shake up your routine a bit, like having sex in the morning before the stress of the day gets to him, or picking a weekend every month to stay in bed and mess around. The goal is to have a 100% honest conversation with both of you letting your guards down, so bite your tongue when you feel yourself getting frustrated and tempted to hit him where it hurts with a passive-aggressive comment.

If his sex drive has always been like this, if there are no medical issues, and if the sex is satisfying and lengthy enough when it does happen, you may just have to decide if you can live with it. Before you give up on this battle, though, think about whether there’s something bothering you besides just the frequency itself. Is it that you feel like you’re always doing the initiating? Tell him that you want him to be more aggressive with you. Is it that you want a little more excitement? See if he’s up for a trip to a sex toy store to pick up something you can use together.

And if none of that helps, or if he’s not willing to try to try anything you suggest, then you’ll need to make a decision. I can’t make it for you–only you know whether or not you can stand it forever. Sex isn’t the most important thing in a relationship, but it is important, and if what’s happening (or not happening) between the sheets is making you feel bad about yourself and making you resent your boyfriend, you might have to have the “it’s not you, it’s me” conversation.

Got a question for Pillow Talk ? Email it to pillow.talk.cc@gmail.com, and we’ll tackle it next time!

[Image via Daily Mail]

In fact, they made me sort of angry.

The writer’s tips can be summed up simply as, “Get up, get out, and make sure you look pretty when ya do it.” What? Is it 1950? Is there a reason the woman should have to tip toe (literally) around the sleeping prince? Should she have to exit quietly so as not to disturb his life?

You spent the night with a guy – which is your right – so why should you feel like a trampy nobody in the morning? Own it. Be there. Enjoy it.

In response to their post, we are going to give you our tips. And not make you feel bad for gettin’ frisky with a strapping young lad:

They Said: Get up and get out.

We Say: Unless you don’t like the idea of morning sex, we recommend sticking around for a bit. You are already there, why not enjoy a morning activity that both of you are clearly going to want? And if morning sex isn’t your thing, don’t sneak out. That just looks shady. Wake the boy up, tell him you had a great time but have to get back home, and kiss him goodbye.

They Said: Kiss Him Goodbye

We Say: We do agree with this one; no matter how bad the hookup (and you know some of those college boys have no clue what they are doing) give him a kiss goodbye. If you liked it, leave your number. It is a tad strange to spend an entire evening naked with someone and doing many a-naughty thing only to get all shy and run out in the morning. Plus, why should you run? You didn’t force this guy to take you home – he invited you. Don’t feel weird about it in the morning.

They Said: Keep things quiet

We Say: Sneaking out of some guy’s house in the early morning is going to make you feel cheap and whorish. And, despite what many people think, spending the night with a man is neither of those things. Why should you have to tip toe out of his house? He knows you are there. He doesn’t have to get up and walk you out, but he should acknowledge that you are leaving and make an effort to say goodbye. Yes, it is a bad idea to run through his house, cook some breakfast and watch TV with the roommates, but there is no reason for you to have to take off your shoes and tip toe out the front door.

They Said: Pick up your trash

We Say: Let that guy clean up his own place! You weren’t the only one using that water bottle and you sure as hell weren’t alone in the use of the condom. Cleaning up after yourself makes it seem like you did something wrong and that you are trying to hide it. Why should you have to clean up after some man? This is his apartment/dorm room – he can clean it up when he finally rolls out of bed.

They Said: Don’t Make Apologies

We Say: Amen, sisters. If you went home with someone and didn’t want to have sex, that is your prerogative. No matter what he says, “But it feels so good,” “You won’t regret it,” “Just for a second?” you do NOT have to give in.

They Said: Make sure you don’t look like a busted up ho when you leave.

We Say: Sure, straightening out the hair and splashing a little water on your face is a good idea, but no matter how much lip gloss you reapply, sporting a backless shirt and a pair of stilettos at 10AM on a Saturday is going to tip everyone off.

[Image courtesy of timgrey on Flickr.]

You pass out as the sun begins to peek its way out from behind the tapestry haphazardly hung over the window, the gent’s arm wrapped around your waist.

Then you wake up. You turn over the boy has his back to you. He’s snoring. You run to the bathroom to pee, trying not to wake him up, but hoping at the same time that you do. After all, it’s sorta awkward; you can’t just leave without him getting up. That would be weird.

You come back into the bed (after searching frantically in the bathroom for some mouthwash/gum and fixing your hair/makeup so you still look fresh) and he stirs. You make a joke about how tired you are and throw yourself into the bed. Random conversation ensues and most likely includes discussion of hangovers, how much you drank last night and how that water you chugged before bed was just divine.

And then….what? You know what you want to do. You want to have morning sex. Who doesn’t? Morning sex is the best way to start the day. (Some people think Wheaties is the breakfast of champions, but you and this boy both know the truth.) It is pretty much a given at this point, but neither of you really know how to broach the subject, mostly because you are both sober now and things are slightly awkward.

Do you ask for it? Do you pull the blanket down and go to town? Do you start nibbling on his ear? Does he even want to sleep with you?

You kinda fall back to sleep. You wake up. You talk more. This goes on for another 30 minutes.

Finally, you both sorta pass out facing each other. Then he puts his arm around you and starts rubbing your back. You put your arm around him and start scratching his back.

And that’s the signal.

Suddenly, you’re off. Just like that. Grabbing at each other. Gripping, huffing, getting it on like to dogs in heat. The shorts and t-shirt he gave you to sleep in? Gone. The blankets from the bed? Gone.

And that’s that. It’s over. You lay around for a few more minutes, realize that it is now late due to the time wasted trying to figure out a way to get busy and pack up (read: search for) your things to head home. You kiss him goodbye, thank him for a great time, tell him you’ll Facebook him later, and run home to chug a Powerade and scarf down a stack of chocolate chip pancakes.

Or is that just me?

[Photo courtesy of dearsugar.com]

Unlike freshman year in the dorms, the real world doesn’t provide you with a place filled with hundreds of people just like you looking for new people to drink (and hook up) with. Well, I guess that might happen if you move to Murray Hill in New York City, but for the rest of us that just isn’t a reality.

It seems that most of us make our new real-life friends at work. Which makes sense; we spend so much time at the office (and, oftentimes, need a few drinks afterwards) that it is only natural to get close with the people alongside us. For the most part this is a good thing; there are many times when the only thing motivating you to get to the office is the opportunity to see your buds.

But what happens when things go a bit too far?

Last week I mentioned a friend of mine who explained to me his love for morning sex. Well, that friend also happens to work with me. Actually, I work for him; he’s my boss. Now, this isn’t as creepy as it sounds; he is only 29 and we do hang out socially. But, as I work here longer we get closer and closer the line between personal and professional continues to blur.

At first I didn’t mind that much, but now as we share more and more “after 5” stories, I am beginning to worry about our working relationship. I mean, how can he take me seriously in a business meeting when he saw me puke at the bar? And how can I heed his constructive criticism when all I can think about is the crazy sex he had the night before? Or when I wake up and find him on my couch with my friend visiting from out of town?

I don’t want to stop hanging out with him – mostly because he’s one of the closest friends I have right now! – but I worry that we may make our way down a very awkward road. One that may make working together slightly weird. Or totally impossible.

I want to be taken professionally at my job, but how can I do that when I am partying with the very person who reviews my performance?

And, working 60 hours a week, where else am I going to find friends?!

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After talking to my friend about his latest foray into the dating world – and his love for early morning sex – I started thinking.

Not that it takes much to get me thinking about sex. Since I am not having any. And everywhere I look it seems that people are having it. All. The. Time.

I remember the first time I ever had an early morning romp. I climbed into bed with my then boyfriend, set the alarm for class the following morning, and fell asleep. I was awoken the following morning not by my alarm clock, but by a very delicious nibbling on my ear. Followed by an even more delicious round of sex that may have acted as the alarm clock for the rest of my (8) roommates.

Then I ate 2 bowls of cereal, a few waffles and grabbed a bag of pretzels on my way to class. And it all tasted so good. In fact, everything was so much better that morning: the birds were singing, the sun was shining, and I was in a great mood. Even with 3 straight hours of lecture and a night of paper writing at the library ahead of me.

Other people noticed the difference, too:

“How many cups of coffee have you had this morning?”

“Are you high? How did you just put away that entire bag of pretzels in 10 minutes!?”

And then I realized just how amazing early morning sex really was (minus the insane increase of caloric intake due to the early morning boost to my metabolism).

Unlike late night sex – which is not only expected but rather ordinary – getting it on in the morning is exciting and exhilarating. Besides feeling (SO) good, sex releases oodles of endorphins that make feel great from the inside out, naturally. And releasing those bad boys in the morning makes for one full day of greatness.

Morning sex also gives you something to day dream about in class, something to boost your sex-tabulism for much more/better sex later in the day, a reason to wake up in the morning, and a much better alarm clock than those annoying radio talk show hosts.

And even though I may have complained about all the time being in a relationship takes up, early morning sex is definitely a valid reason to miss that coveted early morning trip to the gym. If you do it right, it actually makes that trip unnecessary.