I have sex every three weeks. Roughly. My boyfriend comes up to visit me roughly once every three weeks, so...

I live in Halls, but I have my own room with a lockable door, so there's no problems. I've heard my flatmates having sex before too, so nobody around here really cares about how much noise you make (so long as it doesn't keep people awake, haha). All it means is jokes in the morning from whoever you bump into in the kitchen.

I first had sex when I was 16, with Evan, the guy I'm still with. I'd always wanted to wait for the right person. Kissing wasn't such a big deal, but I figured that since I felt I was going to remember my first kiss, I'd remember my first time even more, and I wanted it to be a really good memory. The memory remains wonderful, but more on the symbolic side, if you know what I mean; the first sex sucked since we were both virgins, but I kind of liked that, since it left lots of room for mutual exploration and improvement.

You really don't know what you've got till it's gone. There's a few other long distancers and single people up here; we lament our lack of sex with menthol cigarettes (apparently they contain twice the antiaphrodisiac powers of normal smokes).

It's the best kind of sex, I think, with someone you know inside out and love. No apprehension, no embarrasment at all, no fear, just absolute, complete, unending trust. Good sex really makes a relationship. I know some people might disagree, but I really think that good sex is an integral part of a good relationship. If one of you is ill or something, just hugs and kisses can still constitute that same thing; that show of complete trust. Hugs after sex, with some quality cigarettes. Seriously, I don't know what it is about smoking after sex, but it just relaxes you to death. Some juice nearby. It's the best.

****ING HELL I miss it. Sex on tap for two years...and now it's on a timetable. PFFFFFT.