Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Monogamish Burning Man Attendee Taking Ecstasy: Female, 37, writer, San Francisco, flirtatious, monogamish .
Noon We’re at Burning Man, and I’m excited to get frisky. Only problem is my boyfriend has no desire to go down on me because he says, “You’re too dusty.” He wants me to shower, but I want sex now. My boyfriend gives the best tongue, but it’s hot, and I’m too tired to get clean. As a consolidation, we spoon. I grab his penis and start rubbing it the way he likes. I’m getting hornier by the minute, and the tent is getting hotter. After getting him erect, I climb on top. He pulls my hair, partially does it as a matter of convenience because my hair makes his nose tickle, but he also does it with some force. He grabs hard, and comes in me. I don’t care if I get pregnant; in fact, I’d likely be okay with it. He lets out little moans as he comes, and his jolts and twitches only make me love him more. When he’s finished, I get up, get dressed in pink lingerie and a black G-string and head out into the desert that is Black Rock City.
5 p.m. I watch my boyfriend fix the shower. He’s got the hottest body around. He asks me to jump inside to make sure it’s working properly. There’s no shower curtain, but I happily oblige. As he tests water pressure and power, a few men in the camp come up to talk to me. We both know they’re really coming to check me out.
6:05 p.m. My boyfriend pretends he isn’t jealous, but he’s telling everyone at our camp that while he’s fixing the shower, guys are checking me out.
8:33 p.m. I’m walking with my sweetheart. We’re both in uniform because we volunteer at Burning Man, and our costume is a uniform. It’s nice to have the familiarity of community out here each year. We’re on duty, patrolling the city, and I ask him if we can make out. He says no, because we’re working. I point out that we’re not getting paid and can do what we want, but he takes his job way more seriously than I do. We ride around all professional-like instead. I try to hold his hand but he’s on alert, and I’m frustrated. Still, we enjoy each other’s company. We run into a lovely couple who’ve been married 32 years. I ask them the secret to their marriage, and they tell me that they actually like each other. That’s a good start.
9 a.m. I’m wide awake and my vagina is relatively clean. We’re in the tent. My boyfriend slips his hand down my pants. I can hear people waking up all around us. I try not to moan. I can be shy about noise. I want him to go down there with his tongue, but I don’t say anything. This is a problem for me, the not saying anything thing. I don’t tell him harder, slower, softer, faster because usually I enjoy everything he does. His finger is no exception, although I secretly wish it was his tongue. He uses his fingers for a while, and then we start having sex. I have a great orgasm. We keep going for what seems like 30 seconds before he’s done. He usually lasts longer, but perhaps his horniness has taken over. I don’t mind.
5 p.m. No luck at tag-team showering. He says us showering together takes up too much water. He wants to get in and get out. I’m still horny — I always am — and know the hope of him eating me is greatly diminishing with each dusty minute. It’s so dusty right now that even if I wanted to shower, the dust would just stick to my body. He’s tired, too. He’s been working really hard and not taking any time for himself. I feel it taking a toll on our relationship. I was hoping this trip would bring us together, but so far it’s only showed me that we’re still too far apart.
11:12 p.m. Boyfriend stumbles into the tent all drunk and horny. I’m just waking up from a nap so that I can go out to meet friends I haven’t seen in years. I want to stay in and take him up on his offer to go down on me, but I really want to meet up with these friends too. Any other time, I would be jumping on his face, but even though we start to kiss and I start to crumble in his arms, I tell him to get dressed. He does. We leave.
9:46 a.m. I should have stayed in the tent last night and slept with my boyfriend. That would have been as much fun ,and we would have been able to connect on a level that we need to connect on. I always say it takes three days to acclimate to the playa. Today is day three, and I’m still feeling shaky. My friends showed up as I was leaving, meaning we could have had sex. This morning, I wake up alone because my boyfriend had to work at six. I’m sad and cold, and all I can think is that it’s Wednesday — hump day. Let’s hope we get over the hump.
3:30 p.m. Yippee! YAY! Purr! Meow! My boyfriend came back from his shift tired, so he grabbed a quick nap. Then he eats me while I fantasize that he’s eating someone else while I kiss her or go down on him. That’s always a fun fantasy. Afterward, we have sex, me on top, the only way we’ve had sex since we got here. I’m looking forward to some good old-fashioned missionary-position sex next time. Is that wrong?
11 p.m. We’re tired and dusty, and we’ve had yet another argument. I know, and he knows, that Burning Man is truly trying on relationships. They say if you make it through the burn, then you can make it through anything. I’m not sure we can. I’m emotionally drained. We are now fighting over little things because we’re not listening to each other. I want to go down on him because I remember my friend’s advice that “a blow job makes everything better.” I put him in my mouth and pump a few times. We fall asleep.
9 a.m. I start the morning thinking this will be a really good day. I’m spooning boyfriend’s warm body. He’s the first guy that makes me want to sleep so close. If I smell him or think about his naked body, I get wet. Physically, we are super attracted to each other. We can’t get enough. I love how he smells, looks, talks. We had a rocky start, but I do believe we are falling into a stronger place. Before he chose me, he was dating around and not being completely honest, but I do believe people can change. He knows how to flirt, but he’s not trying to hide it in front of me. I know that flirting is enough for him right now. Later, I’m going to tell him that if he decides not to stay faithful, he needs to tell me so that I can deal with it. He seems to recognize the importance of being faithful to me. I’m what I call “monogamish” because, while I don’t want to be with other people, I also think we will one day hook up with someone else. Hopefully we’ll do it together.
2 p.m. I’m exhausted. It’s so sunny and hot out. I want to take a shower with my boy, but he isn’t ready to shower. Bummer. It would be so sexy if we could scrub each other’s backs. I shower alone and crash.
6:35 p.m. We’re getting ready to go to a party on the playa. I tell my boyfriend nobody arrives to parties on time, but he insists we get there for the call time of seven. When we get there, there is no party.
9 p.m. The party has started, and we dance (we left and went to explore the city until we thought it would be an appropriate time to come back). At one point, he walks away from me on the dance floor and another man calls me over. He tells me he’s looking to get de-virginized out here; it’s his first year at Burning Man, and he wants to have a good time. He asks if I have a boyfriend. I point to honey, who’s looking adorable in his furry hat. Before I head back to my man, I tell him he shouldn’t approach a woman and tell her that he wants to get laid. While it’s admirably forward, it’s also off-putting. He’s put off.
10 a.m. More morning sex in the tent, more me on top. I’m beginning to think we’re not going to do it any other way or in any other place. Still, the sex is good, and the first words out of my boyfriend’s mouth are I love you. Even though this desert is dry, when he looks into my eyes and says he loves me, the faucet between my legs turns on. This boyfriend is definitely on my list of top lovers. It’s only taken me 37 years to find this kind of sex. Wow. After he comes, we rest. I don’t generally come from intercourse, and I’m okay with that. I don’t feel the need for an orgasm. We talk about how wonderful it is to fit together, then sleep a little more.
6:13 p.m. We’re supposed to have a date night, but my friends offer me drugs, and I’m feeling in the mood to do them. Boyfriend’s not much into drugs but says he’ll take care of me all night, and I should do it. Five friends and I pop ecstasy and are about to head off when plans suddenly change. My boyfriend didn’t realize I had already taken the ecstasy; he thought I was waiting until later in the night. We decide to go back to camp before we go out separately (I’m pouty that there’s no date night). I become more irritated that we’re splitting up and freak out that I’m soon going to be high. The drug never kicks in, but we fight all night.
9 p.m. I’m grumpy, and he’s grumpy. We tell friends he’s got dust in his eye and head back to camp. Instead of feeling loved and protected, my boyfriend won’t look or talk to me. He tells me I’m high drama. I may be, but I also know he avoids drama like the plague. We are so different. While I lay on the bed, he goes out and sits with his friends.
12:30 a.m. I rally three friends to ride to the other side of the playa in a complete whiteout so I can see one particular D.J. set. We do it, despite the fact that I sometimes want to give up because I can’t see a foot in front of me. Still, I feel good, finally doing something for me. Mission accomplished. My boyfriend sleeps in the tent.
9:30 a.m. A little oral sex to start the day gets a girl’s panties in a bunch. After my climax, we shift to intercourse. More me on top.
2:15 p.m. Boyfriend cooks me ramen noodles for lunch, then offers to give me a back massage. I lay on the massage table in our camp, and he rubs me down. I want to have sex, but there are a lot of people just sitting around and it may make them, or us, uncomfortable. I’d probably really dig it, but not sure if he would. Regardless, I’m relaxed.
3 p.m. Still no dual shower.
4:20 p.m. I’m resting in the tent, and he’s sewing across from me. A friend shouts in the tent to let my boyfriend know another woman has left a note for him at the temple. He tells him where to find the note and says that she seemed rather upset with him for lying to her about their relationship. He claims not to know this woman, but now I can’t even rest. I’m shaking. He says he’ll take care of it and I should leave it alone.
10:45 p.m. I haven’t done anything about the letter, but I have mixed feelings. What am I doing with a man who creates so much drama himself? What could the letter possibly say that she’s so upset about? I’m having mixed emotions about the whole thing and can’t stop thinking about what he could have done or said to make her need to staple it on the wall of the temple at Burning Man. I understand it’s none of my business, but I feel like I have the right to know. I’ll wait a few days before bringing this up again.
10 a.m. We can’t sleep. It’s too sunny and hot. We’ve both worked until 6 a.m., and I can’t seem to let this ex-girlfriend go. He smiles at me and tells me he loves me, but he won’t say anymore. How much information do I need to know?
2 p.m. We ride our bikes over to a friend’s camp and crash on the couches. We’re both exhausted from over a week in the dessert. We wait until dinner and then head to the temple burn. I’ve been crying all day so far. I blame it on my period. It’s partially true.
9 p.m. We are sitting at the temple waiting for it to burn. There is music being sung, and at first, it sounds really beautiful. He is crying, and I feel blessed to hold the space for him. He still won’t talk about the letter, and this feels weird, so I sit there and think about the past, present, and future. I close my eyes and hope we make it through together.
TOTALS: two acts of cunnilingus; one act of fellatio; five acts of intercourse; five orgasms for him; two orgasms for her; one hand job for him; one hand job for her; one ecstasy pill popped; one sexual rejection for dustiness; zero dual showers.