It’s the Sex and Love issue of New York this week, and for it six New Yorkers kept Sex Diaries that chronicled their sexual lives (or lack thereof) over a period of seven days. Daily Intel has even more diaries, and we’ll bring you a new one each day this week. Today, the Single Girl: female, 31, lighting designer, West Village, “the kind of girl who kisses girls and sleeps with guys.”
2:29 a.m.: Got high and fucked a new boy. I hope the spanking and screaming didn’t wake my roommate.
3:00 p.m.: Just ate breakfast that my new lover cooked for me. It was good, but he is talking the whole time while I’m trying to check voice mail/e-mail/get shit done.
4:00p.m.: New lover is a photographer I call Paparazzi. We had semi-undressed portrait session.
7:00 p.m.: Dinner with the girls (roommate and best friend). We talk about everything: love, sex, jobs, apartments, gossip, and Paparazzi’s penis.
9:00 p.m.: We disturb the next table with our graphic discussions about sex. (They didn’t say anything; they just got really quiet.)
11:00 p.m.: Dirty texting with Paparazzi. He’s so scatological.
1:00 a.m.: Decide to go to a swimming swingers’ party. Meet Paparazzi there. A lot of friendly, pretty people. Hard to be there in the midst of temptation with the chubby Paparazzi, but a relief because he keeps me from having to fend others off.
4:00 a.m.: I make the mistake of calling him fat drunkenly in his elevator on the way home. Then we pass out, snuggling.
1:30 p.m.: Next morning brunch with seven friends. He tells everyone I called him fat. He is fat. I do like him; he is funny and smart. I apologized a lot.
4:00 p.m.: Take a nap with Paparazzi. Had sex, he came for the first time. I’m trying not to think it’s weird. He talks about coming like girls do, lots of mini bursts. He has a big penis for a little guy. Doesn’t really like blow jobs. Then we spooned, fell asleep for a bit.
5:00 p.m.: I tried to get up, and he jumped back into bed with me. We spooned for a while longer. He put his finger up my butt. How can something so dirty feel so good?
1:00 a.m.: Out to a party with Paparazzi and my ex, the Marine. They are fast friends. We have fun dancing, but it’s crowded and predatory.
3:00 a.m.: In the cab home, I proposition the boys. I dare Paparazzi to give the Marine a blow job. We get to my place, and I fall asleep. I am awoken and instructed that they have brokered a threesome deal. It doesn’t take me long to get aroused.
4:00 a.m.: It’s been a long time since I had a threesome, and the double-boy kind is my favorite. I can tell they are nervous. Marine is hard; Paparazzi is not. I hope this is all cool later.
12:00 p.m.: Paparazzi is gone. Hook up with Marine again. Shower alone.
6:00 p.m.: Canoodle Marine on the couch. He won’t stop talking about Paparazzi’s penis.
9:00 p.m.: Go to Polly (polyamorous) party. Meet Paparazzi. It’s fun, not racy. Have a postmortem with Paparazzi about the night before. He is really cool about the whole thing. But how could this ever possibly work and not go down in flames?
11:30 p.m.: No sex tonight because of gynecologist visit tomorrow.
1:00 p.m.: Doctor’s appointment. Talk about my sexual history the last six months. I think it’s five guys, no girls.
10:00 p.m.: I’m mad at Paparazzi. At a networking event, bum a cigarette from a new boy, declare him my new best friend.
5:00 a.m.: Pass out on my own bed with New Boy.
10:00 a.m.: I awake, and Paparazzi has taken his place. He cooks me an omelette.
7:00 p.m.: Masturbate with vibrator.
1:00 a.m.: Take Marine home for sleepover, no sex. Just smooches.
8:00 p.m.: Fondue night with friends. I do not answer texts.
9:30 p.m.: Paparazzi calls, wants to come over. We play relationship repair. Watch TV online, have sex on couch.
TOTAL: Three acts of intercourse, one threesome, one act of masturbation, some canoodling.
Sex and Love [NYM]