Intimate, tantalizing, never-before-seen true stories from the edge of modern sex and dating, compiled by Alyssa Shelasky, in the style of her wildly popular ‘Sex Diaries’ column with Polyamory is hardly a new cultural touchstone, yet as it continues to enter the mainstream dating world, the realities of this lifestyle often remain opaque.;What does the everyday life of someone with multiple partners actually look like?;Alyssa Shelasky pulls back the curtain in this candid, groundbreaking compilation of anonymous accounts, told by real people navigating sex and dating outside the bounds of traditional monogamy. A 67-year-old woman keeps a collection of well-endowed lovers in various corners of the world; a restaurant owner is jolted back to life when she gets illicit messages from a married man; a Brooklynite plans a porn brunch for her birthday, reveling in the fact that she finally feels at ease in her body. Some diarists are just beginning to question their relationship with monogamy, others have been polyamorous for long-time. Some accounts are graphic and dishy, while others focus on the search for lasting connections that feel genuinely liberatory. Every single one is strikingly honest and authentic, revealing varied, far-reaching tales of love, lust, longing and desire.

Autorentext

Alyssa Shelasky, New York

Klappentext

**These captivating, all-new anonymous accounts, compiled by Alyssa Shelasky, in the style of her New York magazine column, pull back the curtain on non-monogamy, answering questions like: How does it really work? Who’s taking care of the kids? And who’s making breakfast?

Featuring an introduction by Esther Perel, renowned psychotherapist and New York Times bestselling author of *Mating in Captivity

*A HARPER’S BAZAAR MOST ANTICIPATED SUMMER READ

“This glorious, never-before-published collection of diaries will delight, tantalize, console, amuse, and inspire. May they enlarge our understanding of sexual freedom and enhance our relationships, regardless of how we define them.”—Christie Tate, New York Times bestselling author of *Group

***A sixty-seven-year-old woman keeps a collection of well-endowed lovers in various corners of the world; a restaurant owner is jolted back to life when she gets illicit messages from a married man; an artist attends an overwhelming sex party, only to find themselves feeling reinvigorated after they get to role play as a rock. Some diarists are just beginning to question their relationship with monogamy; others have been polyamorous for a long-time. Some accounts are graphic and dishy, while others focus on the search for lasting connections that feel genuinely liberatory. Every single one is strikingly honest and authentic, inviting us to relish the types of stories we hear in secret—the desires and fantasies that get whispered about to trusted confidantes, or relegated to the pages of a diary.

Sex Diaries lets us peek inside those pages, offering a singular, panoramic view into the world of polyamory, and an unforgettable ode to love, lust, longing, and desire.

Leseprobe
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The Monogam-­ish Artist Who Role-­Plays as a Rock

28, in a relationship, Canada

DAY ONE

7:45 a.m. I wake up and think to myself, This is going to be a crazy f**ing week.*

My partner, B, and I have been together for two and a half years. We’ve had a whirlwind of a romance. Basically, they walked into my birthday party off the street, and we fell in love instantly. We’re both queer, nonbinary, sex-­positive, slut-­positive, and kink-­positive. We started out as polyamorous, but after B experienced a deep personal loss, our priorities and capacities shifted. Being monogam-­ish feels healthier and more grounding right now. This shift has been challenging for my identity, but I’ve started to expand my idea of what polyamory is and so I’ve been feeling more settled. I also have a submissive, who is one of my favorite people, but more on that later.

We’re flying east with two friends, Cleo and Seb, to surprise our friend Ali at a show they are performing in. Then we’re going to a two-­day sex party at a mansion, on the ocean, thrown by an acquaintance, in the middle of nowhere.

11 a.m. After landing, we grab our bags and realize that Cleo’s bag, which is full of rope and needles, per their current kink fascinations, was searched. We know this because inside the bag is a little note that reads, This bag was searched for safety reasons. Nothing was removed. I guess Security realized that we’re kinky, not dangerous.

1 p.m. As we drive to the apartment where we’re all staying, we discuss our boundaries and desires for the week. I really want to kiss a stranger. It sounds exciting and within my limits. Plus, I want to have a few scenes at the party—­ones that feel good, powerful, cathartic, and maybe dark. For me and B, there’s a difference between kink play with others (on the table) and romantic sexual activity (off the table).

5 p.m. The group goes out for oysters before surprising Ali at their show. It’s fabulous and I cry watching them perform.

10 p.m. We go to a rave at a . . . lobster house? Yeah. The combo of the music and the smell of seafood was less than ideal for me. But it’s by the ocean, people are dancing, and it’s fun enough. I smoke cigarettes and eat my first real-­meat hot dog in ten years.

11 p.m. Someone comes up to me and says they’ve followed me for years. I like being noticed, but sometimes feel a little insecure. Am I as cool as they think I am? Am I shorter than they imagined? Parasocial relationships are weird and I’m so certain that being online in the way that I am isn’t healthy for me.

1 a.m. A girl comes up to our group. She’s staring intensely at B. I mean, I’m the first to admit that B is absolutely f***ing gorgeous—­they’re tall, blue-­eyed, and built like a model—­and also happens to be completely charming, but it feels like I’m invisible. I’m striking too, in my own ways. But I’m not a white person. I’m not as conventionally attractive, and sometimes I struggle with that. As this stranger’s gaze goes on, I feel my rage building. B discloses right after that they matched years ago with this person online. I am very jealous about all of this. On the car ride home, I talk about how I hated every second of that interaction to B and our friends. They love me and let me vent. I’m a person who experiences jealousy like most other people, but I don’t attach to being a “jealous person.” Jealousy is an emotion that is usually hiding useful information underneath, so I think it’s important to discuss it.

3 a.m. We get home late, take our makeup off, take our clothes off, kiss, spoon, and talk about how excited and scared we are for the next few days.

DAY TWO

11 a.m. We sleep in later than we thought we would. Someone else makes coffee for the group, thank god.

1 p.m. B, Cleo, Seb, and I go to a fancy seafood place for lunch and we get rained on. I push my fork into a cherry tomato that explodes all over B’s white button-­down. I am responsible for most of the staining in our relationship and B is in charge of getting stains out. We talk about the upcoming party. Someone says they want to be a rope top. Another wants needle play. B also wants to kiss a stranger. The four of us will likely build a kinky scene together, as we have before. We’re just friends, but we are “sexy friends.” It’s a funny title, but I don’t know what else to call us. We’ve had explicit conversations …