New York magazine has published this entertaining account from a 37-year old anonymous and “monogamish” woman. It’s an interesting insight into the trials and tribulations of attending Burning Man with a partner. It’s not all roses and hand jobs!
3:30 p.m. Yippee! YAY! Purr! Meow! My boyfriend came back from his shift tired, so he grabbed a quick nap. Then he eats me while I fantasize that he’s eating someone else while I kiss her or go down on him. That’s always a fun fantasy. Afterward, we have sex, me on top, the only way we’ve had sex since we got here. I’m looking forward to some good old-fashioned missionary-position sex next time. Is that wrong?
11 p.m. We’re tired and dusty, and we’ve had yet another argument. I know, and he knows, that Burning Man is truly trying on relationships. They say if you make it through the burn, then you can make it through anything. I’m not sure we can. I’m emotionally drained. We are now fighting over little things because we’re not listening to each other. I want to go down on him because I remember my friend’s advice that “a blow job makes everything better.” I put him in my mouth and pump a few times. We fall asleep.