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sex diaries

The Lesbian Whose Dreams Are Much Dirtier Than Her Sex Life

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Lesbian Whose Dreams Are Much Dirtier Than Her Sex Life: Female, 29, Long Island City, PR professional, lesbian, in a relationship.

DAY ONE

8 a.m. In my dream, I commission my partner to make love to me in a park. She tells me it's too crowded; we try the subway, but the walls are dripping with goo. We walk around trying to find a place and never do. Wake up feeling frustrated. My partner is already out of bed; I can hear the coffee percolating. I rub my clit until I come.

9 a.m. Lazy morning. Overconsumption of caffeine and couch lounging. Lover looks sexy. I can see her pierced nipples through her little tank. She's 46, but has the physique and spirit of a much younger woman. Unfortunately, her hormones don't match up and menopause is rearing its ugly head, battling my own high sex drive. I throw some verbal flirtations her way and follow up with kisses on her neck and chest, hoping the morning might replace channel surfing with some body surfing. I'm met with a tender turndown sealed with complaints of bloating, cramps, and a hot flash to round it out. 

12:30 p.m. We meander through the Hell's Kitchen flea market, sifting through old trinkets from people who were once young and happy — photos, postcards, and scrapbooks that date back to the early 1800s. 

3 p.m. Leaf through a book on the history of lingerie together. Hoping it inspires evening activities.

8 p.m. Back home. Shower time. Who knew that touching other people's old junk all day could make you feel so dirty?

8:30 p.m. Commission my lover to pleasure my freshly cleansed body. Our lips meet and I feel that instant and familiar connection, though it's less intense than it used to be. She fondles my breasts and makes her way down to my pleasure spot. I come hard under the steady stride of her sexy fingers. She doesn't want the favor returned. I miss pleasuring her and her former openness to my touch, but am grateful for her willingness to give even though she's not in the mood.

10:30 p.m. Lights out. A sweet peck on the lips and exchanges of "I love you."


DAY TWO

7:30 a.m. My dream: I'm in an attic of a pre-war suburban house furnished with a twin bed and sports posters. Climb on top of a good-looking white male lying on the bed and slip him inside of me. I feel the pleasure of both giving and receiving. I am the man and the woman. Wake up feeling like I had a G-spot orgasm. Is that possible?

8 a.m. Tell my lover about my dream and discuss the possibility of REM orgasms. I recall a retired dyke cop who crashed on the couch next to me on Fire Island who admitted she had talked dirty to me while I was sleeping and that I responded with moaning.

10 a.m. Receive an e-mail from "the one that got away," an Ivy League Ph.D. with a heart of gold, a body of the goddesses and a smile that would melt even Kim Jong-il. It wasn't until she was leaving New York that we confessed our mutual attraction for one another. I'm mostly content exchanging the occasional cyber flirtation.  

5 p.m. Work is insanely busy. We're in crisis communications mode and phones are ringing off the hook from reporters. Is it five already?!

6 p.m. I manage to escape from work at a normal hour and home to my love. She's stirring something delicious-smelling on the stove and we greet each other warmly with a big hug and a kiss.

8 p.m. Volunteer night at the homeless shelter. We joke around while we're cooking dinner, pinching butts and stealing kisses in between chopping, stirring, and plating.

10:30 p.m. Home and tired. Peck on the lips and "I love you," and off to bed.

DAY THREE

7:30 a.m. Dream about a crazy ex-girlfriend who keeps trying to kiss me. I feel the heat of sexual attraction to her, but it's overridden by my disgust for how she screwed me over. Psychosis is so not sexy. Wake up feeling like I fought in World War III. Try to shake the feeling as I get ready for a busy day at work. It's been ten years since the ex and I were an item and yet the emotions that surface in my dreams are still very raw. 

9 a.m. I shake the negative nightmare vibes and jump into work. Feeling extra creative despite being tired.

1 p.m. Get a Facebook friend request from the psycho ex who appeared in my dream! Coincidence, or somehow one of life's intended synchronicities? Decide to let it simmer for a while before proceeding. My social media trigger finger wants to click "accept" but memories of how she dicked me over keep me at bay. I take comfort in knowing that she's still interested in me and that I have the control over the decision to let her into my life.

4 p.m. Still thinking about the ex. Unlike most of my former girlfriends who I remain in touch with at least peripherally, this one hung me out to dry and I cut her out completely. She was the only one aside from the current lover who I was fully committed to and, a year and a half later, as we were making plans to move in together, I got a phone call from her boyfriend of three years wanting to know why I was sleeping with his girl.

4:01 p.m. Friend request denied.

7:30 p.m. Dinner with a dear friend and former lover. Love how easily the conversation flows and how we can make fun of one another's embarrassing flaws with total abandon. Memories of how much fun we used to have getting smashed and smashing one another with fingers and tongues and dildos fill my mind. I contemplate what that would be like now and decide it probably wouldn't be hot without six martinis. I remind myself how awful cheating feels — I've been on both ends of that stick — and a flush of love for my partner fills me.

9 p.m. Get home and pleasure myself on the couch while thinking about a medley of my sexcapades.

10 p.m. My lover gets home and looks exhausted. I rub her feet and she moans with gratitude. Oh how I miss her frequent moans from my rubbing other parts of hers. A wave of sadness washes over me thinking about how she used to press her body against mine with hot sex in her eyes. I miss licking her pleasure spots and hearing her moan.

10:30 p.m. Lover is tired and is going to bed. I am ready for bed but not for sleep. I swallow my sex drive and climb into bed with no expectations. She's already half passed out.

DAY FOUR

7 a.m. I dream that my lover gets up from bed; I don't know where she's going or when she'll be back. My most recent ex-girlfriend comes in and lies down in bed next to me. I don't want her there but I don't know how to ask her to leave.

7:30 a.m. Helping to run an event today. Lots of important dignitaries. I'm rocking my power suit. Game on.

9 a.m. Nervous energy. Not sure if I'm more anxious about the media, the senator, or this woman who I am intensely drawn to who will be in attendance. I met her before I was with my current lover and felt instantly magnetized. She could easily command a room or woo a litter of kittens all in the same breath. We've never slept together, and I'm not completely positive that my attraction is purely sexual in nature, but my heart pounds when we're in the same room.

12:30 p.m. Event is over. Got a warm hug from my maybe-crush, but was too busy to spend more time with her.

3 p.m. I e-mail back and forth all afternoon with my maybe-crush. The conversation is mostly G-rated professional, and then we touch on the topic of sex. I draft a saucy response and then delete it and decide not to reply. My conscience prevents me from straying even in electronic form.

10:30 p.m. My love gets home from evening school. I automatically cross her long days off the list for potential lovemaking as I know she's tired. Sometimes I find it easy to get satisfaction from her pleasuring me, but other times I feel physically frustrated, a feeling that wells up inside of me like a basketball in my uterus, and travels up to my throat, threatening to produce tears.

11 p.m. Half-watching some bad melodrama while half-reading the top news articles of the day. My attention is caught on a steamy sex scene on TV just as my lover walks by. She stops to watch as well. Wonder what she's thinking. Does that turn her on anymore?

11:30 p.m. I should be going to bed, but I'm horny and I know my lover has had a long day, so I stay up and watch mediocre lesbian porn on Pornhub.com and get off in less than ten minutes. Slip into bed to find her mostly asleep. Plant a kiss on her forehead and roll over and into dreamland.

DAY FIVE

7:30 a.m. Dream I'm with my maybe-crush at a party. I slide my hand up her shirt and explore. Alarm clock cruelly tears me from my hot fantasy dream and throws me rudely back into reality. I begrudgingly get up and ready for work.

12:30 p.m. My maybe-crush is on the superficial abyss that is Facebook. We start chatting, talking about everything and nothing, but not about anything sexual. She's made vague reference to being a swinger, but never anything that direct or intimate. I contemplate whether an open relationship with my lover is possible or whether it might ruin the trust we have. I've tried alternative dynamics with previous lovers and it's never gone well. I don't want to do anything to risk what I have.

6:30 p.m. I meet a friend for dinner, another former lover, although we never did more than sleep together when the timing was ripe. We enjoy good wine and a meal and talk about "the good ole days," (which were not terribly long ago), when we partied and slept around. We act like everything was easy breezy then, but we fretted every bit as much as we do now, only the topics have shifted.

9:30 p.m. I come home and break out the dildo before my lover gets home. I don't use any other accouterments; I just replay the scene from my dream with maybe-crush and get hot with desire.

11 p.m. My love comes home and I rub her neck and back. We exchange some sweet kisses and head to bed together.

DAY SIX

7 a.m. Dream I am a sex slave for a group of Chinese men. They keep me chained in a small backyard and use me at their whim. I am frightened and finally find a way to escape.

1 p.m. Light day at work, thankfully. I actually take a lunch break for once and catch up on gossip with my co-worker/dear friend. We talk about our respective relationship woes and I realize that no one has it perfect. How can two people ever please one another fully?

7 p.m. I meet my lover for a night out on the town. We attend an academic event with two smart, snooty people in conversation about politics and social order.

10 p.m. We grab frozen yogurt for dinner after the event and walk around the city dialoging about topics raised at the event. It's a beautiful night out and we enjoy one another's company. I wouldn't want to share every day with anyone else.  

DAY SEVEN

9 a.m. It's the first time in a long time that I don't remember any dreams. I awake to a fresh cup of joe that my sweet love brings to me bedside. She crawls into bed and pets me and we cuddle.

12:30 p.m. My love and I wander around the Met, giggling at seventh-grade-looking art and sidling up close to smirk, marvel, and enjoy the nude photo exhibit. We walk through Central Park hand in hand, taking in the trees and warm spring breeze.

5:30 p.m. Back home, my sweet puts on her best authoritative voice and commands me to get naked and meet her in bed. She swaggers in a moment later, her hot body naked before me, less the strap-on that she's sporting. She kisses me deeply and her mouth makes its way down my body, stopping at my nipples, my thighs, and then encircling my clit, her expert rhythm lifting me to cloud nine and producing guttural moans. She enters me slowly at first and then deeply. I push my hips up to meet her thrusts. I come hard and roll over so that the length of my body is parallel to hers. I reach over and rub my hand over my clit to finish the job there. She joins me, her own beautiful slender fingers circling her clit. We come together.

9 p.m. We settle on the couch, entangled, for some mindless television. I bask in the afterglow, something I don't take for granted since it doesn't happen all that often. I thank her for her generosity and she tells me not to be silly, that she enjoyed it every bit as much as I did.

11 p.m. We hit the hay and I pass out quickly, the fading scent of my love still lingering on my senses.

TOTALS: Five kisses; two turndowns (one overt, one anticipated); three sexy dreams; six orgasms (four self-induced, one with help from partner, one from hot sex session).

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