Where there are hormones, there's a way

Just to prove that even old people got laid in college...

I was a theater major at the University of Nebraska - Lincoln. In the summer of 1988, I had a summer stock theater job as an actor. It was a really hot summer, in fact it was actually declared a disaster area because of drought and heat.

Toward the end of the summer, I hooked up with one of the girls in the company. It's been a pretty long time, so I don't remember much about her except that she was reasonably attractive and that she was very enthusiastic in bed.

Unfortunately, the company was being housed in two or three apartments in what amounted to a housing project owned by the city in this small town. Nobody had any privacy, and most of us shared a room with someone else in these two- and three-bedroom apartments.

So one night, while trying to figure out where we could do the deed, we decided that there was a sufficiently private spot outside one of these apartment buildings.

The only problem with our plan was that it being hotter than hell that summer, neither of us had packed anything like a blanket to lay on the ground. Fortunately (for reasons I don't recall), I had a blanket that had been loaned to me by the director of the company. This really turned on the girl, and when I remembered that I had it, she said, "Ooooh, yeah, I want to fuck all over it!"

So we take the blanket, head for our secluded spot, and proceed to have mad animal sex.

However, what I hadn't counted on was this:

The blanket was basically army wool. While it would be warm to have on top of you, it wasn't exactly comfortable the way we used it.

After several hours of missionary and doggy-style, I vaguely realized in the dark that something painful had happened to my legs from the knees down. Not that I was in a mind to care at the time, but I could notice it.

Ultimately, we went our separate ways for the night. I headed back to my apartment for a shower and to climb into bed.

When I got there, I discovered that I had serious friction burns on my legs. I had literally rubbed off a couple of layers of skin on my knees and shins. My legs looked like I'd been in some kind of accident. It wasn't painful, but it was extremely visible -- and given the drought, everyone had been going to work in shorts, and I wasn't about to wear jeans and kill myself in the heat until my legs healed.

I showed up for work the next morning with everyone wondering what the hell I'd done to myself. I mumbled something lame about falling down the stairs, which seemed to satisfy people.

Moral of the story: if you're going to have sex outside, don't use a wool blanket.