At the end of my junior year of high school, I developed an inexplicable crush on a nerd in my physics class. He was a year younger than me, with glasses and braces, but a nice face and strangely muscular arms. Even though he was a nerd, he was really funny, which made me feel incredibly nervous. It wasn't until over the summer at a house party in the middle of nowhere that I worked up the courage to make a move. After talking all night, I pulled him into my friend's empty car and straddled him. We starting kissing just as it started to pour. It's a huge cliche, but that's probably why I never forgot it. — Megan

He was sort of rugged, young Paul Newman-esque, drank Budweiser and smoked Marlboro Reds. We met at a friend’s party and, at 4 a.m., were the only two awake and went looking for a place to "sleep." Finally, we decided the small entryway by the back door was our best option, and my partner procured what appeared to be lawn furniture cushions from the back of his car, and some towels. This gallantry ended up backfiring when, mid-coitus, I realized we were doing it just like Sarah Silverman and Matt Damon — "on the floor, on a towel by the door" — thereby throwing both of us off with my subsequent uncontrollable giggling. Hot. — Rachel

Quiet weeknight chill sessions can really get out of hand given the right ingredients. (This is especially true when your friends are hot and you wouldn't mind touching their bodies.) For instance, given a healthy supply of Four Loko and a bottle of rum, four friends can turn into four naked friends in a bed pretty quickly. Now I strictly call four-ways "Four Lokos." — Baron

The Empire Hotel lobby bar was playing terrible music, so we left and went exploring. We weren’t guests, but managed to slip by the guard and out onto the roof. We tip-toed around but it was all quiet. I pulled her into the furthest cabana from the door and sat down on a lounge chair. I started kissing her through the material of her skirt, then lifted it and went down on her. She had a cocktail in one hand, my head in the other, and started moaning quietly. She's usually very loud, so the silence was a huge turn on for me. She came and a few minutes later, returned the favor. We smoked three or four cigarettes on the roof, in the peaceful darkness. — Greg

In general, you don't go to a gay bathhouse called the "Pleasuredrome" to have sex with someone who's already your boyfriend. But when you go at 4 a.m. on a weeknight, options are limited. The night, however, turned out well. The moment I remember is looking up to realize that, unknowingly, we’d amassed quite an audience. It's very liberating to have sex in a semi-public place without worrying about the cops. (Or cleaning up.) — James

Apparently, in New York Oktoberfest means “feel free to dress like a Centurion.” One night, my (absurdly gorgeous, former-model) personal trainer and I drank innumerable pints, a handful of shots, and in the wee morning hours as we wobbled toward his apartment he whispered into my ear what he wanted to do to me, but that we couldn’t go into his apartment. (In retrospect, it wasn’t clear why.) He guided me into the stairwell. It wasn’t your typical up-against-the-wall affair: I woke up with bruises on my spine and the backs of my legs from having sex completely naked on the stairs… and the bare floor. — Sarah

My roommate and I were super-depressed and were both having months-long dry spells. We felt like shit and we fought all the time. Then a friend invited our silly cover band to play a party at his house. So the two of us and our bassist drove over there and our friend introduced us to his five beautiful female roommates (!). We played an unusually great show, and then we both got laid in adjacent bedrooms, which was really incredible because independently we'd been batting zero for an outrageously long time. Rock music. — Paul