This week, a woman playing with her polyamorous quad: 45, queer, single, Seattle
7:30 a.m. The alarm goes off but I’m still in a food coma. I went to an amazing Thai restaurant last night. Roll out of bed and hop in the shower. Days like this I’m so glad I work at home and just have to “commute” up the stairs.
10:00 a.m. Time to log on for my first call of the day. I work on a team that’s spread across the country, so I spend much of each day on video calls and Slack. I’m a scientist, but these days I do more science communication, grant writing, and management than actual science. This was my dream job and I love what I do most days though, so I feel lucky!
2:00 p.m. Take a break to text with my four-person polycule: L, a straight man; D, a queer woman; and D’s girlfriend, G, a masochist (a bottom who enjoys receiving pain). L, D, and I are all switches, meaning we change between top and bottom roles. It makes for a lot of fun play options! I just met them a few months ago, and it’s been incredible. I met L first, and he spent the whole first date talking about D. Then the three of us played, and they kept talking about G. Soon we had our first four-way and we all just clicked. Non-monogamy is the default state of relationships in the kink scene I’m a part of, but to have four people all get along so well is rare!
6:30 p.m. D and I grab dinner. As usual, we talk about the goings-on with our play partners, and gossip about the latest dramas in the scene. Though I’ve been kinky for more than 15 years, I usually played privately and I’m still new to the “official” kink scene. D and L have been my guides and mentors, helping me learn who and what to watch out for and how to avoid the drama llamas. I’m so happy to have them in my life.
8:00 p.m. D follows me home for a one-on-one play session. Thankfully my condo has thick walls! I also crank up the fan and music, then we each take turns topping the other until we’re both bruised and soaking up the post-orgasmic bliss. She’s one of the few women I ever have sex with. I define myself as queer, and play with women, but sexually I fall somewhere on the hetero side of bi. That’s been evolving lately though, and I’m still trying to figure out just how queer I am.
7:30 a.m. Wake up to see some gorgeous bruises on my breasts. Bruises are like badges of pride for both the person wearing them and the top who caused them. I send a photo to D, who admires them.
12:00 a.m. Break from work for lunch and text M to confirm our coffee date tonight. M is a new male sub that I met through D. She met M a year ago and just started playing with him again. I saw his profile and noticed he was cute, smart, and geeky — just my type! Even better, he loves cock-and-ball torture (CBT) — my favorite thing as a Domme. D connects us, because sharing partners is the norm in our scene.
6:45 p.m. I meet M at this punk coffee shop. I’m there early, but he’s already grabbed us a table. It’s adorable how nervous he is — it makes me feel more powerful while at the same time I want to comfort him. I keep the chatter light at first to put him at ease, then we start talking about kink, our histories, interests, and experiences. I love the thrill of talking about floggers and restraints in a public space where we can be easily overheard. We’re the two most mainstream-looking people in there, yet here we are discussing CBT! We use our indoor voices, but a young guy behind M keeps turning to look at us. By the end of the date we’re really clicking, and enthusiastically agree to meet up at a local kink club.
9:00 p.m. Home. I text J, whom I met on Tinder, to confirm our date tomorrow. L teases me about using Tinder all the time, and believe me I’ve met some characters. But as happy as I am with my current arrangement of regular and occasional play partners, I really want to find a romantic primary partner. I haven’t had a long-term partner since S and I went our separate ways nearly seven years ago. It broke my heart when I found out he had been cheating on me, so I took a long break from dating to recover and focus on my career. I have a happy life with great friends and play partners, and enjoy my solo time and independence, but I can’t help feeling alone sometimes when I come home to just my cats.
6:50 p.m. Get to the brewpub early, and once again my date has beat me there. J seems reasonably smart and handsome, and he’s more interesting than his profile suggested. He’s even been on Jeopardy! But oh my God, the staring. He locks eyes and won’t let go for a second, and has this smirk that I’m sure he thinks is sexy but just makes my skin crawl. He also lets it slip that he’s not quite as single as his profile claimed, and I don’t date married people who aren’t in explicitly open relationships. I leave shortly after.
8:30 p.m. Get home and immediately text D and L to dish about Creepy Staring Jeopardy! Guy, and we all have a good laugh. We now have a new character to add to our pantheon of inside jokes.
10:30 a.m. P texts. He moved away shortly after we met, but comes back to my city regularly. He’s got a date with a new girl tonight, and they’re having dinner at a restaurant near my house. Do I want him to come over to play before? As if I’d say no!
4:00 p.m. P arrives. We have incredible chemistry. He’s had a lot of stress lately and needs to unwind, and I’m feeling Domme-y, so I top him. At one point he’s going down on me while wearing electrodes I put on his balls. He always gives good oral, but I’m flying with an incredible top high, which sends my heart racing and makes me feel energized and invincible. As the electric patterns cycle, his moans vibrate through me and take me to a whole new level of orgasm.
6:00 p.m. P washes up and heads off to his next date, a big grin on his face. He jokingly says that if the date goes really well he’ll text D and I to meet up. Neither of us believes it will actually happen. Besides, after a very awkward date with a female partner of D’s last week, I’m questioning how queer I really am. He leaves, I change the sheets, make dinner for myself and wrap up some work.
10:30 p.m. Text from P: We’re getting kicked out of the restaurant, are there any good bars near your place for me and D too? I text everyone the address of a brewpub. Is this really happening?
10:50 p.m. I snag a table, still top high, and P shows up with the hot new girl, N, and D shows up not long after. P is in his Wizened Kinkster role, educating us about something or other, and N calls him a mansplainer. I give her a high five. Oh, It. Is. On. So much for my not being that queer!
12:00 a.m. The bar is closing. While N ducks into the restroom, we huddle and come up with a plan. P will invite her back to my place.
12:05 a.m. N returns. P hems and haws, and I get tired of waiting so I butt in and tell her I live nearby, would she like to come over?
12:30 a.m. We’re back at my place, negotiating a scene. Glad I remembered to change the sheets earlier! After going through all the details and getting mutual consent, we’ve all stripped down and P is standing beside N with his hands cupping her breasts with the biggest, dopiest grin on his face while D and I crop her butt and thighs. Later D fingers her, then we tie her to the bed (with the restraints I conveniently left out before) and I can’t resist — I jump in and go down on her, much to D’s and P’s surprise. The three of us are reading each other and feeding off each other’s energy and sharing excited and dumbfounded looks — one of the biggest thrills of the scene for me was seeing my play partners so excited and co-topping on the fly so smoothly with them. The energy was absolutely out of control!
2 a.m. We finally wrap up. The three of them hit the road.
8:55 a.m. Groggily make my only work call of the day.
12:00 a.m. I swap excited and dumbfounded texts with D and L. Did that really happen?
8:00 p.m. Collapse into bed, exhausted.
9:00 a.m. Text L and G to see if I need to pick up any last-minute items for D’s birthday party tonight. D is the planner of our group, so we’re struggling to pull it together. We quickly confirm that everything’s in order.
6:30 p.m. We’ve rented a club for the night and invited a half-dozen more kinky friends to share in the celebration. We all take turns giving the birthday girl her spankings and later I co-top a male sub who’s really into CBT. We end the night playing ping-pong with his cock until the club management kicks us out.
12:00 p.m. I sleep in late, then go to the car dealer to finish a negotiation I had started a few weeks ago. The salesmen make me wait and I started dropping (which commonly happens the day after a scene, when the endorphins wear off and the exhaustion hits) and get talked into extras I don’t need. We have an inside joke that you should never buy Jet Skis, get a divorce, or quit your job when dropping. We need to add “buy a car” to that list!
5:00 p.m. Meet my sister at a dinner party at a vanilla friend’s house. When they ask how I spent the weekend I just shrug and say, “Oh, I just went to a friend’s birthday party.” If only they knew!
Want to submit a sex diary? Email firstname.lastname@example.org and tell us a little about yourself.