Welcome to A+ Sex Diaries, an A+ feature in which we publish seven days in our sex lives. This week: a newly single lesbian who’s decided she’s okay with sleeping with her friends.

Day One

I wake up to B spooning me. I’m sort of hungover but also happy and relaxed. It’s been a long time since anyone has slept in my bed – my ex and I broke up months ago, and even though I’ve been casually dating and sleeping with people since then, I’ve made it a point not to do sleepovers too often, and when I do I sleep at their place. It’s been nice to reclaim my bed as my own, my space as my own, my sex drive as my own.

But B is my friend, and having her in my bed this morning doesn’t feel stressful at all. I wasn’t sure if we’d hook up or not when we hung out last night – we’ve flirted and made out in the past but I’d never assume that means it’s going to happen again – but we did! It was really good. I want to do it again.

I’m moving my ass against her crotch and soon she rolls me over onto my back and then her fingers are inside me, she bites down near my jaw and when I’m close she quietly but firmly tells me to be a good girl and cum, just what I told her I like to hear. I am a good girl and I do cum, and then I’m kneeling between her thighs, sucking and licking and enjoying myself immensely and then she’s cumming, loud and hard and fast. She fucks me again after that and I use my favorite vibrator on my clit – when I’m ready to orgasm I grab her wrist and push her deeper inside me and then try my best to hold still as my body clenches and releases, over and over and over.

B is communicative and toppy and a great big spoon – and best of all, my friend. “You’re fun,” she tells me, and it’s exactly what I need to hear. “You’re fun too,” I say, and then she heads to the bathroom to shower before we meet up with some other friends. I’m not up for much more than fun right now – after my break up I realized I don’t want to be partnered again for a long time, I don’t want a girlfriend, I just want to focus on myself and my work and my own needs.

But I do love sex, and I love having fun with my friends.

Day Two

I have to be up an hour earlier than usual because I’m getting blood drawn before work today. It’s a rude shift from yesterday’s very fun morning.

Work is regular, and when I get off I go meet up with my friend C who I made out with a couple of months ago. In the past I’ve had trouble with blurring the lines between friends and dates and sex partners – I used to like to keep things very separate – but since this break up I’ve just sort of been exploring many options and realizing that it’s totally possible to fuck my friends and have it not be weird. It’s a nice realization! My friends are all so hot – why wouldn’t we all want to make out?! And maybe have sex?! And then keep being friends!

C is also a writer and today she shares a huge book project she’s working on with me. One of the sentences jumps out at me: “I KNOW THAT I’M NOT INTERESTED IN LOVE, BUT DO YOU WANNA FLIRT FOREVER?” Yes, please.

I’m supposed to get a lot of work done in the afternoon and evening, but it’s so hot outside and my house doesn’t have AC and it’s honestly hard to breathe, let alone think. My friend K convinces me to join her and some other friends for a night swim at a nearby lake instead. I flirt with everyone, and my friend T teases me about it. “It’s so fun to watch you in this slutty single phase,” she says. “You’ve always been the biggest flirt but you were monogamous… now you’re free and you can actually follow through!” I laugh. This is fun for me, too.

I text with B for a little before bed – it’s not really sexting, more like friendly texting with a few cleavage shots here and there – and eventually say goodnight so I can go masturbate. “You’re hot,” she types. “I know, xoxo,” I write back.

Day Three

I’m beyond exhausted when I wake up. This summer heatwave is kicking my ass. I’m also nervous, because I have a Tinder date tonight unlike any I have made in the past. This babe has agreed to come over and spank me! They’re not a total stranger – once we matched on Tinder I saw we have many mutual friends and actually already followed each other on Instagram – but the fact remains that a human I have never met in person is coming over tonight specifically to put their hands on my ass. I’m thrilled, and also so anxious.

Work drags on all day until finally it’s time to go home and make myself look cute. I put on what I hope is a sexy outfit and tidy my room a bit. Soon N arrives, sweaty and handsome, bringing gifts of pink champagne and sparkling water, just like I requested. We chat in my backyard for a little, and my nerves disappear. They’re sweet and funny, poly and partnered, confident and sexy. After a while we go inside and I invite them into my bedroom where we sit on my bed and negotiate what we both want.

“I don’t think I’m down for sex,” they say, “but I’d love to spank you and make out, if that sounds good to you.” A jolt runs down my spine as my body reacts to those words. “That sounds ideal,” I agree. “You can also, um, pull my hair? If you want to?” And with that their hand is in my hair and their mouth is on mine and our bodies are pressed up against each other and the black lace panties I’m wearing just for this occasion are wet and I think this is gonna be good.

It is very, very good. I love the feeling of a hand against my ass, love the moment before contact, love being on all fours and having someone else take charge. I feel like I could let N spank me all night, but they’ve got to head home after a couple of hours and it’s probably for the best. They sweetly ask if I need anything else – they’re still fully clothed and I’m naked on my bed. I ask if they mind seeing themself out so I can get myself off immediately and they don’t mind at all; I use my favorite vibrator and a set of nipple clamps to facilitate the fastest orgasm I think I’ve ever achieved. I squirt everywhere. My ass is sore from N’s palms. I check the time and realize I can still make the birthday party I was afraid I’d miss because of this date – I throw on a cute outfit and race out the door, promising myself I’ll clean up the mess when I get home. Could this night be any more perfect?

N texts me a little while later: “Thank you for a delightful and fucking hot evening. I listened to God is a Woman on the way home. You’re a goddess.” So, okay, I guess it got even more perfect.

Day Four

Today’s boring, but I welcome it. I’ve got another date tomorrow, and life has felt extremely hectic as of late. I go to work and then do some mundane adult tasks, including changing my sheets and dealing with the mess from yesterday. I’m not convinced my date tomorrow will even end up in my bedroom – it’s with a babe I’ve been seeing for a couple of months but things have felt a little weird and confusing lately and I’ve had a hard time communicating about it with them – but better safe than unable to fuck if we decide we want to! That’s how the saying goes, yeah?

Day Five

I’m nervous this morning about today’s date with R, and irritated with myself for being nervous about it. I’m not supposed to have any intense feelings for anyone ever again! I say this with an eye roll at myself, because of course it’s not real or true, but I really am trying to be more mindful about my attachments to the people I date and fuck and I feel like I messed this one up, got too invested or something, or maybe it’s like, I allowed the external validation of this person thinking I’m hot and valuable to become too important to me? Or maybe we delved too deep into emotional things and I came to rely on them for some of the support my ex used to give me when we were good and it felt nice and I was able to ignore the fact that doing that sort of defeats the purpose of wanting to be single and independent and also creates an unsustainable long term expectation? Or maybe they’re just really good at topping me and kinkier than anyone I’ve ever connected with before and I want more of that than they’re able to give.

When I meet up with R they seem distracted, which is fair because they have a lot of big serious life things going on and I respect that, but I’m, if I’m being extremely honest and vulnerable, hurt and disappointed. I’ve wanted them to help me categorize what we’re doing together – are we dates, are we fucking, are we just friends? – but they couldn’t give me any answers so I decided to create my own.

R and I are friends. Just friends. I’ve tried to create that expectation in my brain so I’m not disappointed when we hang out and don’t have sexual chemistry the way we used to, but that is hard on a good day, especially when I’ve decided it’s totally fine to fuck my friends.

We spend the afternoon doing errands together and R is sweet and it’s fine but that initial spark I felt seems to have gone out and it just… sucks. Connections change and evolve and shift all the time, I know that. But I’m still allowed to feel sad about it, which I guess is the part I’ve been having a hard time with. I don’t want to feel sad. I don’t ever want to let another human have the power to make me feel sad ever again. A totally normal and reasonable request of myself and the universe, I know.

R and I don’t fuck today.

Day Six

This morning is hectic because I’m heading out of the city right after work to visit my friends who live on a farm a few hours away. Their land is one of my favorite places in the world and I’ve been looking forward to this visit for weeks. I make sure my car is packed with the essentials before I leave for work: tent, sleeping bag, pink champagne, slutty dresses. You never know who you might encounter when you go visit your dyke family in the woods!

Work goes by fast, thank the goddess, and soon I’m on the road, blasting Tegan and Sara and thinking about everything I want to do this weekend: garden, gossip, go swimming… I stop to get gas and check my texts and whoa, I swear I am not making this up for the sake of this Sex Diary though I’d understand if you thought I was because this is truly a bizarre serendipitous moment for which I would like to enthusiastically thank Lesbian Jesus: I have a text from my friend P, who I had a massive crush on at A-Camp 2013, saying she’ll actually be very close to my friends farm tomorrow and would it be okay if she came by and visited? She’d love to see me and the land I always speak about so lovingly. I quickly text her back yes, that would be more than okay, I can’t wait to see her!

I’m so glad I packed some slutty outfits.

When I get to the farm I tell my friends I invited P – they have a 24/7 open door policy when it comes to guests. They do tease me a lot – “we thought you wanted a quiet weekend in the country to escape your busy single life!” – but I don’t mind. They love me and the teasing feels nice. S reminds me about bringing babes here the last time I was single, years ago, and how I love an excuse to share a tent with a date. She’s not wrong. “I think this land is good luck for my vagina,” I say, and M laughs. “This land is good luck for a lot of people’s vaginas!”

Day Seven

I wake up in my tent and I’m so fucking happy, not just because I’m unexpectedly seeing P today. This is one of my favorite places on the planet, and any time I get to spend here feels like a gift.

I make breakfast and wait for P to arrive; as soon as she gets here we’re meeting my friend F at the local swimming hole. P is such a babe – we haven’t seen each other in years but when she gets out her car my guts flip, like they need to remind me I’ve had a crush on this person for five years. We hug and she hops in my car and it’s like no time has passed, we’re chatting about her job and my writing and our current life plans and hmm, seems like we’re both single right now. Cool, cool cool cool.

The swimming hole is as gorgeous as it always is and through some queer magic we have it entirely to ourselves. F and P get along right away, and the whole afternoon is fun and perfect. After a few hours F has to take a phone call so it’s just me and P on the warm rocks by the water, teasing each other about astrology and… who we voted for in the 2016 Democratic Primary. Y’all I am not kidding. This goes on for a while, truly, and then finally I say, “P, I don’t wanna fight with you I just wanna make out with you!” She looks at me, bemused. “I mean, if you want to. Later. If you want.” She nods, and we table Hillary vs. Bernie. F comes back from her call and we pack up and head back to the farm for dinner.

I show P the bathroom set up so she can take a shower and then we both head outside to grab things from our cars. “I need my shower stuff, why are you out here?” she asks me, teasing again. I open my mouth to answer and she grabs my hand and pulls my body close to hers, and then I’m looking up at her and she’s kissing me. Her mouth feels so good, I’m dizzy. We kiss and kiss and kiss and then she steps back, cocky and grinning. “I… was coming out here to get a cute outfit,” I say. “So that you would want to kiss me.” She grins harder. “You don’t need a cute outfit for me to want to kiss you,” she says. I blush and wonder what’s going to happen next.

Dinner is delicious and raucous and hilarious. P and I continue flirting and S pulls me aside at one point to tease me and honestly this is one of my favorite parts? Like, connecting with babes and flirting and making out and playing and fucking is so fun, but it’s also so fun to do those things in the context of queer community. Texting a friend a screenshot of a particularly flirty Tinder interaction, watching your friends watch you hit on a babe at the gay bar, holding a cutie’s hand under the table at a big group dinner and thinking maybe no one has noticed and then having your older wiser dyke friend pull you aside later to make fun of you for thinking you were being subtle… these rituals are just as fun to me as the actual sex.

Everyone eventually goes to bed and it’s just me and P, lying on our backs, stargazing and talking on the deck. She’s so smart. I want her to kiss me again.

When the mosquitos become too much we go inside the main house to brush our teeth and put on warmer clothes. Earlier in the day we’d talked about her pitching her own tent for the night, but we both agree that now seems… unnecessary. She brings her sleeping bag over to my tent and we clamber in, and as soon as we zip the door her mouth is on mine again and she’s on top of me and fuck, this all feels so good.

We make out for a long time, bodies pressed against each other, hands roaming everywhere. I’m wearing a romper and she has no idea how to take it off me and it’s adorable; I help her and then I’m naked, lying on my back in my bra and underwear, which is now soaked. She asks if she can take off my underwear and I bite my lip and nod. “Please.”

“Do you want my fingers inside or outside,” she asks, and it’s such a simple and sweet way to check in I make a note to remember it for the future. “Please put your fingers inside me, please,” I beg, and she obliges immediately and fuck, fuck, fuck. She has three fingers in my cunt and her thumb pressing down on my clit and I just, my brain stops working, I can’t make words. I’m on my back and keep looking up at her fucking me and getting shy and looking away and giggling and ugh, sex is so fun. I feel myself getting close to an orgasm and I pull myself into a more upright position, she keeps her fingers inside me and uses her other hand to tug on my hair, and as my head jerks back my hips roll forward and I’m cumming, fuck, “please don’t stop,” I whisper, urgent, fuck, she grins that cocky grin and just keeps fucking me, never taking her thumb off my clit, fuck.

When I can speak again we shift positions so that she’s on her back and I’m on top. I take my time taking off her clothes, kissing every inch of skin as she becomes less and less covered, checking in as I go and enjoying her moans. I repeat her question back to her, fingers inside or out, and she says outside so I do just that. I curl myself around her body while I fuck her, kissing her neck and her chest, letting myself get turned on again by the sounds and movements she makes. “I’m sorry this is taking so long,” she tries to say at one point but I interrupt – “I could literally do this forever, don’t you dare apologize.” She’s so fucking hot when she does cum, I can’t stop looking at her mouth, opening and closing, clenching, tensing, fuck.

I fucking love queer sex and queer bods and queer babes.

We can’t stop touching each other, finger tips tracing hips lips finding ears her arm pulling me closer my head resting on her chest. I don’t have the rainfly on my tent and the top is all mesh, so when we look up at the sky we can see the almost full moon hanging directly above us. “This is so gay,” I giggle, and we laugh because it’s true and also we’re high on sex. “My 2013 self is so happy,” I say, and P feigns indignation. “What about your 2018 self,” she asks. I snuggle closer to her. “She’s really happy, too,” I say. “She’ll make you coffee and breakfast tomorrow morning.” She gives me a squeeze, and soon she’s asleep.

I stay awake for a long time, staring at the moon above us, and then eventually I’m asleep, too.

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