In this week’s story, a woman meets a new partner and learns she likes to be dominated: 46, single, Portland, Oregon.
DAY ONE
8:30 p.m. My thumb is sore from swiping left. It has become an obsession. A part time job.
I’m six months out of a 14-year marriage with two young children, with an unfinalized divorce that might as well be final. As soon as we officially broke up, my ex hopped right on the apps and found a new relationship, so maybe I can too. I have my kids half the time, and my ex lives nine blocks away, so we see each other and talk at least daily.
12 p.m. Today I’m trying to get through what feels like endless emails — I’m a realtor — but I keep taking breaks to swipe. While I try to be open minded with the guys I swipe right on, it’s hard. Every 100th left swipe someone looks mildly interesting and I swipe right.
7 p.m. Don’t have my kids tonight, so I make a simple dinner for myself, then lie on the couch and scroll the socials. It’s hard not to go back to the dating apps though. I try to watch some funny reels instead of swiping, but it doesn’t last long.
10 p.m. The impossible has happened. The app reads: “You ran out of people. Expand your distance settings to see more people in your area.” I ran out of people! But my distance was already a two-hour radius!
11 p.m. I lie in bed and decide the problem might be me. I decide to revisit some of the people I’ve already passed on, to look at these guys with fresh eyes. Maybe ethical nonmonogamy — which continues to come up — isn’t a deal-breaker. I don’t think the lifestyle is for me, but if all I want is to feel sexy and have no-strings-attached fun, it seems like a viable option. One guy in particular comes to mind. His name is Oliver … I go back and swipe right on him.
DAY TWO
9:59 a.m. Oliver and I matched and he is now in my DMs making arrogant comments about backgammon, an interest of mine noted on my dating profile. Evidently, “No one under 85 plays this game.”
11:35 a.m. I have a couple showings this afternoon, all over the area, which requires a few hours of being in my car and driving around and also seeing clients who I really like, and visiting new homes on the market. I am listening to The Ethical Slut on Audible while driving to the first showing. I figured I better do my homework so I can better understand the terminology and “lifestyle.”
3 p.m. I pick my kids up from school and start to think about what everyone wants for dinner. I get them settled at home and they start playing in the yard, which gives me time to text Oliver a bit more.
4 p.m. By this point in the day, Oliver and I are in a deep text exchange. He is being less cocky but still presents as knowing more than me about most things. He is calling me “kid” even though he is one year my junior. He asks me how online dating is going, and I tell him about the cast of characters I have met so far and that I am particularly put off by the way men react when you tell them there isn’t a connection. The simple act of telling someone there wasn’t a spark had recently devolved into a pretty nasty text barrage where someone I went on two dates with, who has a master’s in social work, called me an “emotional moron” in his hissy fit. Oliver says that dating married men is better because men who get sex regularly are less likely to act with such fragility.
7 p.m. Give the kids their baths and make them brush teeth. They’re all dressed in their jammies, so we start to read stories together in my older child’s bed.
9 p.m. With the kids all tucked in, Oliver and I reconvene the texting. Seems like we have a lot to talk about so I suggest we meet up to continue our conversation. He sends me a picture of his totally ripped torso and I immediately feel the need to disclose that I have a “squishy mom bod” just so everyone’s expectations are in the right place. Plans are made to meet for a drink tomorrow.
DAY THREE
9 a.m. I’m currently talking through negotiations on an offer, a result of my showings yesterday, over the phone.
11 a.m. I have to meet with some sellers and consult on what they need to do to have their house ready to list. It is a high-paced, high-stress job with no defined days or hours. One day I might find myself scooping cat shit out of a litter box before an open house, and the next day I’m babysitting someone’s toddler so they can hear the results of their home inspection uninterrupted.
3:30 p.m. My car is in the shop so I suggest Oliver and I meet at a bar near my house so I can walk. My kids are with their father tonight so I can do what I want this afternoon. Once there he notices me and stands up to give me a hug. He is very tall, thin, and sharply dressed. We nervously order drinks and start talking. Something about his energy feels very gay to me. Maybe it is the cadence of his speech or his very Euro aesthetic.
4:15 p.m. I feel like I have known this person way longer than 45 minutes. The conversation is seamless and we are both laughing and enjoying ourselves.
5 p.m. We finish our drinks. He offers me a ride home. We walk to his car and he opens the car door for me, drives me home, and hugs me good-bye. That was fun, I think. On the date I learn that he’s not just ENM but married. His wife is ENM, too, and it works for them.
5:15 p.m. I pour myself a glass of wine and take a few hits of weed. Then I fill my bathtub. It’s my first bath here since buying this house, as a single woman, a few months ago. As I undress and get into the water I see a notification from Oliver thanking me for a nice time and asking me what I have planned for the rest of the evening. I tell him I am in the bath and set the phone down …
5:51 p.m. Out of the tub I dry off and get dressed. I am now on a call with my East Coast bestie telling her about my date as another notification comes in. He asks, “Well, how was it?” I message back, “It was amazing. What are you up to?” He says, “Honestly I have been sitting here waiting for you to invite me over for a bath together.” I message, “You are welcome anytime.” He messages, “Very well then. I will be there in ten minutes.” Feeling completely out of character, but also very certain, I change into something a little sexier and start filling the tub again.
6:24 p.m. I get another message from him that simply says, “Aqui.” I run to the door and let him in. He follows me up to the bathroom and turns off the lights. We start kissing. He starts to undress me while continuing to kiss and caress my body. Once we are both naked we get into opposite ends of the tub. Legs intertwined, we talk and listen to music from my phone.
6:54 p.m. After a short pause in the conversation, Oliver says to me in a firm voice, “Get your towel and go to the bed.” I willingly comply. He follows behind me, flings me to the bed and climbs on top of me. Kissing me slowly he finds his way down to my breasts, my stomach, then my thigh at which point he pins my legs to the side and starts slowly and gently going down on me. He takes me right to the edge of an orgasm and stops. Then he puts a condom on and with all the same confidence and force, rearranges my body to the exact position he wants me in.
7:14 p.m. We start having sex, slowly at first and then with a force I am unfamiliar with. Thrusting himself into me, flipping me this way and that, pulling my hair, bending me over and slapping my ass while sometimes pausing to hold my face and stare gently into my eyes. He eventually fucks me hard while whispering in my ear, “I am going to make your next boyfriend sit in the corner while I show him how you like to be fucked.” Holy shit. My toes curl.
8 p.m. We lay naked listening to music, telling stories and laughing for over an hour. Then he gives me a kiss and says good-bye.
DAY FOUR
7:23 a.m. I text him, “That was really fun.” He responds: “It really was. Thank you.”
8 a.m. It’s Saturday morning so I load up to meet my ex and the kids at our favorite spot for a “family breakfast.” We are trying to keep things as normal as possible for them as we work through the divorce and ideally build a friendship and family that just looks a little different now.
9:32 a.m. We have our breakfast and get settled at our table.
1 p.m. I keep thinking back to last night and can’t wipe the smile off of my face.
5 p.m. Family movie with the kids on the couch. They go back to their dad’s tomorrow morning for a party with his side, so I’m just enjoying being with them and relaxing.
9 p.m. Oliver invites me for a walk and coffee tomorrow morning. I happily accept.
DAY FIVE
8 a.m. Drop the kids with their dad.
9 a.m. We are walking! And talking about every angle of life. Again I feel like I have known this person for a long time and feel so at ease with him.
10 a.m. We make our way back to my house where he starts kissing me in the entryway and we soon head up to my bedroom, stripping our clothes off as quickly as possible.
12 p.m. Three orgasms later, spaced apart by holding each other and staring into each other’s eyes, I am totally brought to tears. I can’t remember ever feeling so vulnerable and seen. I whisper into his ear, “You are just a sweet angel sent from heaven to help me know better what I want and need.”
3 p.m. He goes home and I transform back to my real life, with a whole afternoon and night of momming. The kids are getting dropped off soon.
6 p.m. Dinner, laundry, cleanup, not the sexiest few hours of my day to say the least.
DAY SIX
8 a.m. Take the kids to school and return to work — I have a huge buildup of stuff.
11 a.m. Pause work for my first break of the day. I go on a little walk to clear my head and think about Oliver.
3 a.m. I find myself trying to figure out what I’d like the future with Oliver to look like. I know I want my next relationship to be very different from my marriage. With my ex, we just lost track of the friendship and ultimately outgrew one another. Kids, work, stress and COVID. Everything became very transactional and every attempt I made to fix it was met with defensiveness. I want to take my time to reflect on how this relationship with the father of my children failed, what role I played, how I can be a better partner and what I am not willing to tolerate in relationships moving forward.
5 p.m. Pick up the kids and get some dinner ready. I feel like I haven’t been super focused on them this week, so I treasure our time together tonight.
DAY SEVEN
8 a.m. Get the kids off to school.
9 a.m. On my drive back from drop-off, I feel pretty sure that I want to keep dating Oliver, even with the ENM of it all, even with my past romantic baggage. I think it’s going to be worth it.
12 p.m. We make plans to get dinner next week and maybe try to sneak in a coffee in the next day or two. I want to keep having this mind-blowing sex with him — that’s the main motivator here.
5 p.m. I ask him if he has time to chat tonight and we make a phone date for later on.
9 p.m. I tell him that what’s going to work for me is to consider him a friend. I tell him I want to keep talking endlessly about music and life and that I enjoy that with him there is never a dull moment.
11 p.m. I am lying in bed just processing everything. I never knew I wanted somebody to take control in the bedroom, probably because I take charge of every other aspect of my life. I never knew I wanted to be dominated. I feel like I have so much more exploring to do!
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Alyssa Shelasky , 2024-04-20 01:00:38
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