Every Sunday night, the Cut posts a new sex diary — anonymous accounts from city dwellers about a week in their sex lives. The results are funny and sad, with honesty and details that make readers cringe and celebrate in turn. Below, nine of this year’s wildest, from a dad attending a swingers’ party with his wife, to a marriage counselor at a Tantric retreat, to an L.A. woman looking forward to an upcoming threesome.
11 p.m. Back in our suite with about ten other couples. One lady is getting fingered by some guy as she dances with her husband. A new couple shows up and we start chatting. It is dark and boozy and we’re really getting along. She has soft skin; I feel her back under her shirt. The room clears out until it’s just the four of us. We will call these two Niki and Carlos. They seem more passionate and a bit slower, as opposed to being into heavy banging. Niki is feeling Jax’s large tits; we are all getting naked. Soon enough, we are banging our own spouses side by side.
7:30 p.m. Driving over to Zach’s. I’m nervous. I ask myself if I’m truly this sexually brazen. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of two-girl-one-guy threesomes, but at the end of the day I ain’t no lesbian. Low-key, this is my dream: two bi guys and me. Pressure isn’t on me, everyone gets fucked. I find gay porn so hot, so what could go wrong?
5:55 a.m. When I was in college, I was a foot model for some big designers. A photographer friend clued me into the foot-fetish industry and let me know how much my feet are worth. Once my money problems got big enough, I remembered this … and started dabbling. From time to time I will get mildly aroused — honestly, usually not. It’s a job. At the moment, I’m not in any real sexual relationship …
11:20 a.m. It’s Friday, so I’m planning ahead to secure some dick this weekend. I swipe right on Tinder until I run out of swipes (a daily habit). I’ve never actually been in a serious relationship — the closest I got was right before this current Tinder rampage. I dated a guy for about five months, but we never became “official” (whatever that means). It wasn’t until it ended that I knew how unhappy I was — it made me realize I need to have fun and figure out what I want before sticking with one person.
7:01 p.m. Everyone’s here and I’m fascinated. As a marriage therapist, I’m used to meeting couples for the first time and I frequently find myself wondering what on earth they’re doing together. But here, all the partners match. In fact, if everyone had been standing by themselves, I bet I could have accurately paired each person with their mate. And, with one exception of a couple in their 70s, they’re all around our age.
2 p.m. My ex lives two blocks from me. I worry about running into him just about every time I leave the apartment. I thought he was the love of my life. Moving in together, marriage — all things I thought were in our future. Until one night he didn’t come over as planned and I walked into his apartment to see him fucking another girl. It was a pretty ugly conscious-uncoupling, and now I’ve got some issues letting a guy get close to me. Seems easier not to at this point.
8:35 a.m. I met my husband, M, when I was 15. We dated on and off throughout high school and college. We took lots of breaks, but eventually ended up together for the long haul. I loved his “bad boy” personality and, of course, his good looks. But as a grown-up, he’s a bit boring — in life and in bed. He has no idea that I have affairs … he travels a lot for work. He doesn’t know about my affairs, and as far I know, he’s not having any. I wouldn’t care if he did.
6 p.m. Dinner is ready and the gluten-free girls are bitching that there’s nothing for them to eat — I remind them that dick is gluten-free and get a few laughs. Overall, this group is pretty easygoing; it feels like a sorority, not pussy prison. But no matter what, being away from home for two weeks and coming home with an extra five figures in my pocket makes it all worth it. I think most people would be surprised to know that most of the ladies with longevity and an established clientele in this industry own businesses in their private lives. It is very lucrative if you have a plan and save and invest wisely.
10:30 a.m. I sit at Balthazar for breakfast. I do my emails here, breathe, etc. I also come to look for men. I want to have an affair. I feel like it’s my own chance to have some fun romantically. I can’t divorce my husband for financial reasons. I like the life he’s provided for me, but I hate him. He hates me too. Somehow our hatred for each other has reached a place where it works.