Welcome to the Frisky “Sex Diary,” in which an anonymous person shares the details of her sex life over the course of a few days. Sometimes these entries are filled with revealing romps, while other times there is nary a naked moment in sight. Some of these diarists are frequent contributors. Want to share a page from your sex diary? Email firstname.lastname@example.org. All entries will be anonymous.Diarist: Single mother, 26, living outside St. Louis
Afternoon: I work all day, then have class. I pick my daughter up from daycare, take her to my mother, run home, grab my “overnight” bag, then head to school. I normally see the same guy on Tuesdays nights — he’s convenient and the sex is great, but there’s no other attraction. Just looking at him gets on my nerves, but hey, he’s really good at that one thing!
Evening: After class, I go to the tanning salon — I’m working on my bronze goddess look for a trip I’m taking later this week — and then head to his place. He’s on his computer. Ugh, I think to myself. Again. I attempt to climb in the bed and relax for an hour before I can shower of the remaining tanning residue. Mind you, I’m almost covered from head to toe except my shins, and he has the nerve to tell me I can’t sit on his furniture because I’m “contaminated.” I opt to shower earlier than I should. When I get out of the shower and get ready to climb into bed, he’s on the side I ALWAYS sleep on.
“You’re on my side of the bed,” I said.
“No I’m not,” he replies. “I always sleep here.”
“I think you’re mistaking me for your Wednesday girl,” I comment. The pillow he’s given me smells funky. I climb into bed and he tries rubbing my breasts. Seriously? He has me sleeping on a funky pillow and wouldn’t let my “contaminated” skin touch anything in his apartment and now he wants some action? I give him a look. He falls asleep and starts snoring, loudly, the type of snore where the person sounds like they’re on the brink of death. I wake up him.. “I’m going home. I need to sleep and I can’t with your snoring.” I head home.
8 am: No good morning text from Mr. Lame. Imagine that! I go to work and then rush home to pack for my trip. We leave at 3:30 am.
Early Morning: My friend and I leave early for New Orleans and arrive around noon. We spend the afternoon bar-hopping and flirting with randoms. We’re having a great time in the wonderful weather and enjoy the men — gay and straight!
8 pm: Later that night we head back out (after a much needed nap) and we end up meeting some locals. I’m sitting by myself at the bar — my friend is off with one of the locals — and a tall handsome man walks up. He’s dressed very nicely and we spark up a conversation. I learn he’s from out of town also and is in New Orleans for a work conference — he’s what you might call “sugar daddy” material.
4:30 am: The bar closes and we head back to the hotel. Sugar Daddy Material and I are walking behind everyone, catching each other’s eye, stealing a few kisses when we can. SDM is married though — he denies it, but there’s a wedding ring. He claims it was a gift he received when he was 21. I have no idea how old he is and I don’t care. He walks me to my hotel and invites me to his — the Ritz-Carlton, FYI. (SDM, remember?) I pass and I’m not sure why. I normally leave my inhibitions at home and go for whatever. Still, we make out quite a bit outside the entrance to the hotel and he leaves, promising he’ll call. HA! Right?
9 pm: It’s raining, but warm. We go to a bar on Bourbon Street and I see a tall, dark, piece of chocolate that I want to just eat up. We start talking and we hit it off so well that we decide to go grab something to eat. For some reason I’m not afraid to be alone with this strange man in this strange city. We run to his car (it’s raining, remember?) and we get in, laughing and having a great time. We start to drive to the restaurant, but the street has tons of cops blocking it off, so we decide to drive around. I start rubbing his c**k through his pants and he unzips; he pulls it out and it’s huge. We’re making out while driving a bit and decide to head to my hotel room. We get in there and he takes his clothes off. It could not be more perfect. He’s a personal trainer and his body is amazing. He puts on a condom and slides his d**k in me and it’s amazing. We have great sex and he promises to see me the next day. He even sleeps in my room for a few hours. I could have done without that.
1:00 pm: I meet random from night before for lunch. He orders his food before I even arrive! (Can we say ass?) I order mine, along with a vodka and sprite. The waiter brings the check and random says, “Can you split this?” Seriously? He had his d**k in me the night before and can’t even buy me lunch. Then he says, “How about we go back to the hotel for round two?” to which I reply, “How about you pay for lunch?”
“Baby, I’m broke,” he says. “It’s hard out there nowadays.”
“I’m broke too then,” I say, playing my half. I walk out. No more randoms in that city!