I've been a tad worried about this sex entry ever since I read about it on Coleen's site. Turns out she took a pass, but I'm stubborn in weird wild ways, so on I trudge.

What I'm not going to do is give you some XXX-rated view into my love life; I have something a little less salacious in mind. I'm going to literally review the places I've gotten a little sumpin' sumpin' as a sort of guide for you all to be tucked away for the next time you get to feeling a mite randy.

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The front seat of a 1982 Escort hatchback.
I don't recommend it unless you want to spend the better part of the next morning with the W!ndex, cleaning off elbow, head and footprints. Also, a human body isn't meant to bend certain ways no matter how he/she tries to position you around the gearshift.
Two stars.

The front seat of a 1964 Volkswagen Beetle.
See above.

The Oakwood Inn.
Very enjoyable, especially the room service. Being jumped on the soft, soft bed and having to submit to my 'date' with the theme from Hockey Night in Canada wafting around my head....not so enjoyable. So to sum up: go, enjoy the inn with someone who is NOT a self-involved, egocentric bag of muscles; hell, go alone, you might be more considerate to yourself and your needs.
With Mr. O'Shea: Two stars. Alone: Five stars!

Second-floor staircase, wool carpeting.
Ow. Seriously, ow. I don't care how wound up you are or how nekkid you already are or how he/she is pawing at you, do not hesitate on the stairs or all will be lost. You will undoubtedly wind up on the bottom and the rug burns you acquire will be difficult to explain to others later. Also, they itch as they're healing, causing you to ask yourself why you didn't just go that extra few feet to the bedroom/washroom/laundry room instead.
One star, only because hey, you're still getting some...

Washroom vanity, Grandview Inn and Conference Center.
Good and sturdy, excellent traction against the whirlpool tub, beautiful view out the window to my right: Four stars. I would have given it five, except for the monstrous mirror against my back mounted with terribly cheesy materials, causing it to lurch to and fro and ruining the mood a wee bit.
(Let me qualify that: Four stars, unless the old lady in the neighbouring condo spots you mid-orgasm).

College darkroom, during the lunch hour.
Turn the radio up and put out the DND sign and no one will be the wiser. It's cheaper than a hotel room and people think you're working your ass off. Just keep your parts out of the various chemical trays and enjoy your Afternoon Delight!
Three and a half stars: You have to keep your personal volume down and usually get some form of leg cramp afterward.

Any elevator.
Two words: security cameras. I'm most definitely not an exhibitionist and can keep it in my pants until we get to the room. Mostly.
Zero stars.

Riding lawnmower. (John Deere)
Don't. It's cold and dirty in the shed where it sits and that moulded seat has absolutely no give and who could feel sexy in that situation? So okay, he made me feel a little sexy, but still, there are better places.
Half a star, but only because of the way he....so, half a star.

One inch inside the front door.
Knowing that someone can't wait for you to do anything other than drop your keys before they have to have you? Sex-ay.
Five and a half stars. Even though the tile floor was rough and unyielding, it was still hot.

Sam Reid of Glass Tiger. July, 1989
Just kidding. I only met the guy but he SO wanted me, I could tell.

Posted at 2:45 p.m.