People Be Fuckin’ In Museums

Museums are not just houses of learned doctors, they're also great places to get busy apparently. As a matter of fact, if this article from Vulture (link below) is any indication, museums used to be regular old fuck houses. To keep that spirit alive, they queried their readers about their sexual encounters in museums and selected 12 of their stories. Here are a few of the best.

My husband and I had sex in the family bathroom at the Brooklyn Museum while our 2-year-old daughter slept in her stroller. She was in the stall, door closed. We were on the other side, facing the mirror/sink, trying to get a quickie in and hoping she wouldn't wake up before we finished. It wasn't quite the public-sex fantasy — I felt way more anxious and weird in the real experience. I think I even told my husband not to get precocious and focus on the hole. I think we were there seeing the Ai Weiwei exhibit. Either that or it was Judith Scott. 

I'm sure that's exactly why Ai Weiwei went to prison, for these horny parents' right to fuck at his exhibit.

I had sex in different museums with my girlfriend, during regular hours, and made handheld videos with an iPhone. These museums were mostly in Paris, and one in L.A.

Before the videos, we did the same thing throughout art museums in Europe following the trail of Casanova (the historical figure), including his jail cell located in Venice.

European museums used to be houses and were not made for art, necessarily, so you have all sorts of odd nooks and crannies that don't make sense anymore and are left basically empty and nearly invisible. I believe every single museum has sex potential. It's an architectural fact. Although the U.S. is harder, the passionate exploration of architecture is still possible.

The girl and I have broken up, but the videos remain ... (and we're still good friends).

"I believe every single museum has sex potential" sounds like the opening line to the worst erotica ever written.

Kevin and I had been dating on and off for a year and had a very healthy sex life. We were always a bit kinky. I finally took him to the VMFA the fall of 2014. We walked around and talked about the art and had a generally good time. For me, no trip to the VMFA is complete without a sit in the chair room that overlooks a small section of Boulevard, one of the major arteries of Richmond. There's always a good amount of vehicle and foot traffic traveling at any given time, in addition to the several apartment buildings right across the street. 

Kevin was siting in one of the chairs, and I got up to walk toward the window. As I'm standing there, looking down at the street, I begin writhing my hips just enough to gain his attention. I look back and tell him how much I would love for him to fuck me right where I'm standing, in full view of the street. Next thing I know, he's behind me, grabbing my ass, eventually working his way into my leggings. All of a sudden I'm bent over the railing. Things got wet. Fueled by our spontaneous passion, we rush to the nearest bathroom, a men's, and start hooking up. Unfortunately, the museum was about to close and a docent walked in while I was blowing him to inform us of this.

God damned docents, always trying to make sure museums are for learning and not fucking. 

You can read all of the rest of these stories at Vulture, or share your own in the comments section below.