Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Gay Breadwinner Screwing Around While Hubby Is Out of Town: Male, 32, works in finance, Hell’s Kitchen, gay, partnered.
6:30 a.m.: Wake up to send my partner of seven years to the airport. He’s going to visit family for the week. I have a hard-on from an erotic dream that my partner was not in.
6:55 a.m.: Shower with hard-on. Should I or should I not? No, I need to be out the door.
7:25 a.m.: Partner and I barely talk. I toss his luggage into the SUV and off we go. To be honest, I am relieved that he is going away. The last three years have been hell. He lost his job in publishing, and all of a sudden an $800K mortgage is not such a smart idea. Even though we are lucky not to be underwater, I feel the burden of being a single-income household and chief cheerleader for my Partner.
8:00 a.m.: Partner rubs my thigh before he gets out of the car. No sex in the last two years — so what is that supposed to mean? I want to fuck, dammit. Quick kiss and hug before goodbye. I love him, but I don’t love the situation.
8:05 a.m.: Driving out of the airport and wondering if Partner is going to look for a job back home out West. I feel numb.
8:47 a.m.: In parking lot, realize that I have an entire week to myself. I need sex so badly. Get a hard-on in my yoga pants.
8:49 a.m.: The doorman opens the door and sees my hard-on. Well, I think he’s cute too. However, the building association probably would not approve of me fucking the doorman.
10:01 a.m.: In hot-yoga studio, and everyone is half naked. The tallish young guy in front of me has a nice lean build and sizable calves. No, I can’t have a hard-on for yoga, think of shitty boss instead. Hard-on dies.
12:15 p.m.: Meet with friends in West Village for brunch. You know, maybe being single wouldn’t be so bad. Sounds like these guys have more sex in a week than I do in a year.
2:07 p.m.: I hate working on a Sunday, but that’s life. Mind wanders and gives in to checking out gay cruising sites. Make profile.
3:23 p.m.: Get a hit from a slightly older Professional. He looks handsome; looks like my Partner, actually. Sorry man, I’m a top.
3:25 p.m.: Professional messages me again and wants to meet. Should I?
4:55 p.m.: What the hell? Take cab to UWS. Professional has a nice apartment.
4:58 p.m.: So that has got to be the biggest equipment I have ever seen in my entire life. It’s wider than my wrist. Professional wants to suck me off.
5:12 p.m.: This is hot. This guy obviously has never done oral before. Wow, look at that thing. He has a rocking hard-on. I wonder how many liters of blood drained out of his body into his cock.
5:14 p.m.: He is taking a break and takes out a towel to wipe his mouth like a napkin. He’s treating my cock like a meal. This is rather flattering, I guess, and weird.
5:20 p.m.: I finish and he finishes. That was a nice start to the week.
6:33 p.m.: Back home cooking dinner. Wondering when I’ll hit the breaking point and say, “I’ve had enough.” We would be fine if Partner finds a job.
9:46: p.m.: Partner calls from his mother’s house. He feels angry with me, and the bloody economy for not hiring people. The call ends tersely when I say something snippy.
6:30 a.m.: Wake up with a hard-on. Think of Professional sucking me off. Rub one out.
8:30 a.m.: In meeting with my Boss. He was born with a silver spoon up his ass. Tall, mildly handsome, and oh-so self-satisfied. If I did not have a mortgage, I would leave.
9:15 a.m.: Boss gets up and adjusts his crotch in view of wide audience. It’s rude and annoying, especially with female executives in the room. Don’t silver spoons come with manners?
8:30 p.m.: Get home with Chinese take-out. Long day, and I am wiped. Whip out laptop for Internet porn. Check messages online. Debate whether to call Partner.
9:04 p.m.: Call Partner and apologize for snippy attitude. Partner sounds happy and confirms he is thinking of finding work out West. Tell him my career right now is in New York. Call ends in silence.
9:13 p.m.: Get on cruising sites. I really should have done this months ago, if just to relieve my stress.
9:35 p.m.: A young guy in his twenties, swimmer at NYU. Nice bod … but I politely decline. I really have to sleep. Can we take a rain check? Yes, I see that you have exquisite skills with toys. But I have to wake up at four for the airport. Promise I’ll contact him. Swimmer disappears.
4:00 a.m.: Woken by Strum on the iPhone. Haul my ass to shower. No, my little one, we can’t play now.
4:30 a.m: Hail a cab downstairs to the airport. I need a coffee, and a fuck.
6:00 a.m: Get on the plane and promptly fall asleep.
7:14 a.m.: Am woken up by turbulence. Check to see if I drooled. Good to go, except I have a raging hard-on. The Swimmer is hot; I need to see when he is around, Partner obligations be damned.
8:30 a.m.: Sitting in a conference room in nondescript Midwest town. This is just not my scene.
8:31 a.m.: Waiting for others to arrive, and my mind wanders to Swimmer. I cannot have a boner here — it’s a fucking glass table! Think of shitty Boss.
8:35 a.m.: Oh, all of these people are unattractive. No worries, no boner from here on.
9:30 p.m.: Long day. Meeting, lunch, meeting, dinner meeting, drinks. I am done. Back on plane. If only the Company wasn’t so cheap, I could at least have a hotel room.
12:45 a.m.: Stumble into apartment and fall asleep in bed with my suit on.
9:00 a.m.: Back at work, debriefing on the meeting.
7:30 p.m.: Gym time.
9:25 p.m.: Get on cruising site. Leave a message for Swimmer.
9:46 p.m.: Get a message from Bodybuilder in East Village, mid-thirties. I am not sure what ethnicity he is. The photos are fuzzy. Also, seems like the photos are from different time periods, if you catch my drift.
9:50 p.m.: Bodybuilder says he likes my ethnicity (I’m Chinese). Is it okay to be fetishized? Sure, I don’t care.
10:01 p.m.: What? Now? Don’t people sleep on weekdays? I need to think about this … What about that 8:30 a.m. meeting with my direct reports?
10:05 p.m: E-mailed my team that meeting needs to be postponed to 9:30 a.m. while I hail a cab to East Village.
10:31 p.m: Climb stairs to his apartment. The building needs a little work, but nice location.
10:33 p.m.: First, Bodybuilder is not in his mid-thirties. Second, the photos didn’t do him justice. Obviously he spends every hour at the gym. Well-defined musculature with interesting lines. He has muscles that I did not know existed. He did not need to lie about his age; I would have come over in a heartbeat.
10:35 p.m.: He wants to get it on right now. What have I gotten myself into? I’m athletic, but Bodybuilder is at least 80 pounds heavier than I am. The photos shave at least 50 pounds off him.
10:39 p.m.: What, no foreplay? I pound Bodybuilder.
11:15 p.m.: Success! That was easier than I thought. I really, really, really needed that. I don’t even remember the last time I fucked like that was.
11:25 p.m.: Bodybuilder doesn’t say much, but he wants to go again. Alright, here we go.
11:55 p.m.: Thank Bodybuilder for having me over. Pick up a pack of cigarettes from the variety store downstairs. Blow post-sex smoke clouds into the cold New York air.
9:40 a.m.: Came to meeting late. Bought everyone coffee. Feeling on fucking cloud nine.
10:15 a.m.: Damn, I should have fucked someone else a long time ago. Even if I have to use an escort. Lost my concentration, and this is the fifth time I am reviewing the same spreadsheet.
12:50 p.m.: Lunch with my Associate. She’s picking up that things are different with me today and wonders aloud why I’m in such a good mood. Joked with her (nicely) to mind her sandwich before I decide her presentation needs major rework for Monday.
12:51 p.m.: Associate has long luscious hair, a nice rack, and great personality. I would fuck the Associate if I was not such an ass whore. She wouldn’t be the first.
7:45 p.m.: Gym. An athletic jock around my age walks in with a towel. He looks like the twins from The Social Network.
7:46 p.m.: Jock looks around warily before changing. Okay, straight jock, you know gay guys are really not that hot for you. I am sure the fantasy sells porn but it does not work in real life. Why anyone would want to push themselves on someone who isn’t into gay sex is totally beyond me. Focus on getting out.
9:13 p.m.: Get online and check if Swimmer is around. He is on now but he’s heading to Boston for weekend. Bummer.
9:25 p.m.: Seems like I am attracting a certain age group. Older Jock has messaged me. Maybe tomorrow? Exchange e-mail. Is this a recurring theme?
5:00 p.m.: Taking an early day today. TGIF.
8:22 p.m.: I am wasted at Boxers. New Yorkers pour really big drinks, and somehow I always forget. My friends are talking about their week’s conquests. Almost let slip that I messed around this week.
9:30 p.m.: Some really catty friend of a friend starts talking shit about me and Partner. Okay douche bag, you don’t know me. STFU.
9:35 p.m.: Too drunk to continue a logical argument. Have another scotch.
9:46 p.m.: Older Jock messages me again. He’s in Queens and wants to meet.
9:47 p.m.: Well, I’m not getting on with these guys anyway
10:40 p.m.: In a diverse part of Queens. Cab drives up to a quiet street.
10:45 p.m.: Older Jock opens door with only a jockstrap. He’s shorter, sinewy, and muscular. Score! Totally my type.
10:47 p.m.: Intense foreplay on the floor. My cock is so hard it hurts.
10:52 p.m.: Continues on the couch. Kissing is A+.
11:03 p.m.: Do Older Jock in bed.
11:45 p.m.: This has got to be the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
11:46 pm.: Older Jock says the sex was A. Could have been A+ but with some point deductions. I’m annoyed now. Heading back.
10:15 a.m.: In bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about this week. I don’t exactly feel guilty, but
10:21 a.m.: It’s worse than guilt. I feel resigned. Has my relationship come to an end? Is that why I’m acting out and sleeping around? Time to clean up and wait for Partner to come back.
4:30 p.m.: Pick up Partner at airport. We embrace. I guess I will have to be ready for whatever comes.
TOTALS: 1 erotic dream; 3 hard-ons in inappropriate situations; 1 sit-back-and-enjoy blow job; 1 act of masturbation; 1 muscle hook up; 1 best-sex-ever hookup.
*Sorry everyone for the delay today. Sex diary snafu!