It’s the Sex and Love issue of New York this week, and for it six New Yorkers kept Sex Diaries that chronicled their sexual lives (or lack thereof) over a period of seven days. Daily Intel has even more diaries, and today we end our week of sex diaries with a big one. Here’s the Bisexual Polyamorist: female, 28, lawyer, Boerum Hill, single.
10:00 a.m.: Arrive for the weekend at a nudist swinger sauna retreat in Maine.
5:00 p.m.: Give an impromptu sexuality workshop. Two grandmothers ask for a G-spot demo.
11:00 a.m.: Before leaving Maine, I agree to pose for sexy pictures with my beautiful new 53-year-old lover. Her husband is ecstatic.
2:00 p.m.: On the airplane ride home, I snuggle underneath my giant coat. My friend Dave asks if he can join me and we snuggle under the fort and talk until the stewardess comes over and reprimands us.
10:00 p.m.: Byte BDSM fetish party. I grind and make out with approximately ten women. I lick green Jell-O off of a gorgeous lady.
8:00 p.m.: Polyamory cocktail party in the Village. Several female and male lovers are there. I kiss each one and try to balance everyone’s needs. But then my sexy crush man, M, comes in and I need to gobble him up. I straddle him and make out. I drag M back to my lair. We’re unable to stop the frenzy till 6:00 a.m. I could keep going, but respect his need for sleep. I’m stunned — this is the most passionate, awesome sex I’ve had in a long time. And he has a girlfriend.
11:00 a.m.: M leaves my house. I try to avoid my Hitachi magic wand, because I’m trying to recover from my vibrator addiction.
1:00 p.m.: I look M up on MySpace and Friendster and send him friend requests on both. I wonder whether astronomically mind-blowing sex and intense chemistry are normal for him.
3:00 p.m.: Despite my promises to myself to not get attached to him, I’m totally crushed out for the day and can’t stop thinking of him, and am disgusted with myself for pathetically masturbating to his Friendster pictures.
8:00 p.m.: Date with B. Only a second date but we hooked up minus sex after the first date, and we’ve been talking on the phone every day since we met at a party three weeks ago. We already feel close. He is brilliant and gentle and open-minded and I like him a lot, but he is timid around me. I take the initiative and kiss him.
8:00 p.m.: First date with C, whom I’ve known for a while. We talk about our recent long-term relationship breakups. We’re about to go to his apartment when his ex texts him, despondent, asking him to come over. She lives near me so I share the subway ride with him and walk him to her house. I don’t mind; I’ve got a big day and I’d like to sleep.
9:00 p.m.: B gets the prime position in my social calendar. Dinner with me and friends in Williamsburg, and he’s so brilliant and sweet answering their questions about his Ph.D. I can’t wait to take him home and ravish him.
11:00 p.m.: We look into each other’s eyes and hold each other, and it feels really emotionally powerful. He seems to possess what I want in a relationship partner. We decide together that we’re ready to have sex for the first time. He’s giving and sensitive, and I feel like I’m falling in love. I’m not sure why, but when we’re having sex, I start crying. I think I’m moved by the vulnerability of actually caring about someone emotionally in a sexual situation. He holds me all night, and I’m sad when he has to leave in the morning.
8:00 p.m.: I see M and his girlfriend at a party. If I hadn’t written down the intense connection on Monday, I wouldn’t believe it now. Now he’s just a guy at a party. I now credit the amazing sex partially to the weed we smoked and decide to smoke it when B comes over. I resolve to cut out the other guys. Or at least narrow it down so I have time to do laundry.
TOTAL: Sex with guys twice; sex with women twice; ten-plus kisses; some fondling.