Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. On the special occasion of Valentine’s Day, we asked anyone who felt inclined to submit their own diary of just that one day: a 24-hour period filled sometimes with love, but more often with annoyance, loneliness, or flat out sexual frustration. Here are some of your responses.
The 24-Year-Old Female Editorial Assistant on the Upper East Side:
7:35 a.m.: Wake up. Alone. H was supposed to come over last night but didn’t feel well after a too-crazy Saturday night. Makes sense considering I got a booty call from him at 6 a.m. Sunday morning.
7:50 a.m.: Hop in shower. Start thinking about shower sex. I love shower sex. Shower sex myself.
8:45 a.m.: Get off the train at Grand Central. So many good-looking men with flowers. I want one. Not one of the flowers, one of the men.
9:17 a.m.: Start G-chatting with H, as I do every morning. Wish him a Happy Valentines Day. Start devising ways to see him tonight.
2:23 p.m.: Get a text from J, the second-in-command to H. More of a back-up-plan type of guy. He wants to get dinner tonight. Not happening. I have a date with some lady friends, a tub of hummus, and a large bottle of Frontera. And no, none of those are code for a vibrator. I make plans to see him Tuesday instead.
3:30 p.m.: Get a happy V-Day text from a boy back home who I am completely infatuated with. Sadly, he is still whiling away in the Midwest. And also my gay BFF’s younger brother.
3:32 p.m.: Start daydreaming about boy back home and the last time we slept together. I think boys from the Midwest are really where it’s at. I should start a dating site for Midwesterners living in New York and call it … I don’t know what I’d call it, but it would probably have to do with corn.
6:28 p.m.: Finally leave work and head to friends’ apartment for some much-needed vino and snacks. It seems as though every attractive male in Manhattan has flowers in their hands. I hate you all. Or maybe I hate the recipients of the flowers. Whatever, doesn’t matter. I’m just bitter.
8:31 p.m.: Make plans to meet friends at a bar in an hour.
11 p.m.: H texts me. Says he doesn’t want to go to the bar, but he’ll come over to my place when I get home. Leave bar almost immediately.
11:47 p.m.: Apartment buzzer rings with minutes to spare on Valentine’s Day. H walks in. We get naked pretty much immediately. Have very quick, rowdy sex. Pass out.
3:38 a.m.: H wakes me up for another round, as he usually does in the middle of the night. He takes me from behind and pulls my hair. I come pretty quickly.
The 32-Year-Old Male Designer Up in the Boston Area:
7 a.m.: (Somerville) I wake up next to my ex. Under the pretense of working all night we agreed to celebrate Valentine’s last night. I rouse her for another round. Living up to the porn stereotype, this Tokyo doll squeals loud. She loves it when I grab her ass and give it to her rough.
12 p.m.: (The bathroom at the Union Oyster House, Boston) My friend in Melbourne woke up alone and sad. After cheering her up over chat we agree to video sex. One hand works my iPhone while the other rubs one out. The trick is keeping it long enough for her to come while not so long that the wait staff start suspecting anything.
6 p.m.: (North End, Boston) A date with an old fling. I keep her entertained, and we talk about why we would never work out. After dinner, the cab ride gets frisky with me reaching second base and my junk getting felt up in reciprocation. We end up having sex in her kitchen while her roommate walks in with her boyfriend. After a few gasps and brief apologies we finish in the bedroom. A photographer, she snaps a few frames out during the act. I leave the situation before the inevitable fighting starts, but first I steal the SD card. I text Tokyo to let her know I’m thinking of her.
11 p.m.: (Harvard Square, Cambridge) I dance to awful D.J. music with a girl I was seeing over Christmas. She’s completely open about her bisexuality, but I wonder why I’m the only guy in her group of friends tonight. We never officially broke up, but I thought she was seeing someone else. She has a girlfriend now. We watch as a couple of her lesbian friends get raunchy. We walk away with an extra pair of panties. Alone at the coat check I text Melbourne to say that I wish she was here. I genuinely mean it. She’d be the only woman I’d need if she were around. Her absence hurts me to the core.
1 a.m.: (Fort Point, Boston) Now I get it: Christmas Girl’s girlfriend is giving a Valentine’s gift of an MFF threeway. Her girl is a masculine dyke and also a top. We tussle a bit. For a while I’m servicing Christmas from behind while she’s going down. I end up tying the Dyke up and making her watch as I have sex with Christmas standing up. The Dyke seems intrigued and at Christmas’s urging agrees to ride. I pound her against a wall. This requires more cooperation from each other than I thought was possible just minutes earlier, but it worked out well. Afterward, they try this themselves, but something about how the Dyke’s strap-on is harnessed prevents the act from working. The Dyke gets frustrated with my suggestions (I’m only trying to help!) and threatens to do me next. Christmas loves this idea. In the spirit of Valentine’s Day and lapsed Catholicism I agree to take it from behind while Christmas strokes my cock and balls. I surprise myself by coming hard.
The 27-Year-Old Mom in the Bronx:
12:15 a.m.: I can’t sleep and the boyfriend is complaining that he’s hungry but won’t get out of bed. I begin to play with his cock so he can get up but instead, we end up doing it from the side and switch over to the back.
12:40 a.m.: Sleep. Guess he wasn’t that hungry.
9:45 a.m.: At work, feeling like shit. My kid had the flu last week and I think I have it now.
9:50 a.m.: Decide to think about last night instead.
7 p.m.: The kid fell asleep! She’s still kind of sick but I hope she lasts for the night.
8:45 p.m.: The BF and I are about to exchange gifts. He brought me Godiva dark-chocolate-covered strawberries (my favorite) and oh, look who wakes up.
10 p.m.: Put the kid back to bed.
10:15 p.m.: BF and I are making out on the bed. His lips taste extra juicy today. Wait, did I just hear my door open? The door did open.
10:16 p.m.: FML, the kid doesn’t want to go to sleep and killed the mood.
10:30 p.m.: BF goes to sleep before me.
The 27-Year Old Female Grad Student in Park Slope:
7 a.m.: Boyfriend wakes up extremely early. I completely forget that it’s V-Day and am very cranky with him about the hour. He calls me crankus. We hop in the shower together but my continuing cranky mood drives him out.
8:30 a.m.: I am finally awake and feel badly that I was such a grump. Give love and back rubs to the boy while we both get dressed. Still don’t remember it’s Valentine’s Day.
8:45 a.m.: I finally remember the holiday when Sweet Man gives me two vintage Valentine’s Day cards. One reads “You’re the feather in my cap on Valentine’s Day” and features a totally un-PC but also very cute Native American child. I melt. We start making out.
9 a.m.: Man has to leave to get to school but starts rubbing my thigh instead.He goes down on me and then we have sex. An awesome way to start Le Jour D’Amour!
10 a.m.: I am at work. Thinking great thoughts about the man and the thoughtful cards he got me. I love vintage sixties. Best gift ever.
12 p.m.: Realizing that my grad school work load is crushing today. Rethinking plans for our romantic date to see Chances With Wolves spin love songs in the East Village.
3 p.m.: Definitely rethinking date …
9 p.m.: Meet Sweet Man at the gym and am extremely stressed out. Pull the opposite-day card and tell BF that I don’t think I can go out as usual. He is a complete sweetheart about it and walks me home with a sweet kiss goodnight. How lucky am I??
The 21-Year-Old Female Fashion Student in Wicker Park, Chicago:
1:25 a.m.: Recent partying has totally effed with my sleep schedule, so I’m wide awake. Decide the best option would be to catch up on the Jezebel articles I missed today and lull myself to sleep with my Hitachi magic wand. I’ve developed a bad habit of buzzing while I read Jezebel, which seems weird, but I can’t be the only one who does it. I think it improves my comprehension.
2:15 a.m.: Decide that I actually want to climax, so I turn off my Mac and imagine the prospect of doing drugs with my platonic friend’s roommate. I think I have a crush on him, and I think he likes me, too, but I’m fairly certain nothing will come of it. However, in my fantasy we have some pretty great coke sex. (I don’t even like coke; in fact, I’ve only done it once and that was in a messed-up sort of tribute to Lilo the day she was sent to jail.) But hey, it works.
2:40 a.m.: Almost instantly after finishing, I get a text from a male model I barely know saying ‘ur sexy. Come over. Lol.’ When I say no way, he reminds me that he can hook me up with Adderall. Consider going over there, but my wet hair keeps me from making a bad decision. Opt to catch up on much-needed sleep instead.
9:46 a.m.: Overslept. There’s no way I can make it to my 10 a.m. class.
1:30 p.m.: Finally wake up. I don’t work until 5 p.m., so I fall back into my default Jezebel/magic-wand routine. Actually branch off into Gawker for a bit, because my platonic friend’s roommate reads it and I need covo topics.
2:10 p.m.: I hear my roommate yell, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ Shit. I keep forgetting that she’s been working from home lately. ‘Happy V-Day, P!’ I respond as I click off the vibe. Seconds later, she comes in my room, asking (a) why I am still in bed, and (b) why I look so frazzled. Is this a joke? I fell asleep in my bathrobe, so at least I’m not naked.
2:15 p.m.: Several cups of coffee.
3:30 p.m.: I work as a hostess at a fancy schmancy steakhouse, so wearing all black is required. Is purple eye shadow and pink lipstick too tawdry for Valentine’s Day? Decide that I don’t care. Top it off with a headband circa Blair Waldorf season one, cleavage that would def get the Serena van der Woodsen blank stare of approval, and Little J-esque heels. (And while I’m making the GG references, Lily would totes love my statement necklace.)
7 p.m.: Very attractive young basketball player is dining with us tonight. (Hint: By any other name, he would definitely smell as sweet.) Make sexy eyes at him every time I walk past his table. His girlfriend definitely notices.
9:15 p.m.: After a night of watching other people celebrate romance, loneliness finally starts to kick in.
9:30 p.m.: One of the servers says I look sad and asks me what’s wrong. I start to rant about how men only see me as a sex object, and no one thinks I’m special enough to even take on a date, and wouldn’t it be nice if someone would even make any sort of effort!?! Rant ends with me in tears.
9:32 p.m.: The server promises that he’ll take me on a lunch date this week. He’s about three years younger than my dad, so I’m not sure how I feel about the date part, but his offer is very sweet. Remember that there are still a few good men out there.
10:45 p.m.: Finally off work. Take the blue line back to Wicker Park, picking up pork belly tacos on the way.
11:15 p.m.: Watch Gossip Girl online. It’s a Valentine’s episode! I love it when the holidays on GG match up with real life. Also, while I don’t much care for Raina Thorpe, I do enjoy that Chuck is dating a girl from Chicago. It gives me a sort of hope.
12 a.m.: “But whatever your Valentine’s Day brings, never forget that some years, it’s a massacre.” And other years, it’s just a really boring sex diary.
The 28-Year-Old Woman in Morningside Heights:
After a lovely dinner and wine pairing we went home and fucked to Revolver by the Beatles, and he came during “Yellow Submarine.”
The 26-Year-Old Floridian Girl in Communications:
6:50 a.m.: Wake up at boyfriend’s house wishing I didn’t have to be up so early for work so that I could give him a blow job. We saw some e-card calling blow jobs “flowers for men” and I’d wanted to surprise him. Neither of us are morning people, so I take a shower and get ready for work instead. BF is coughing and sounds worse than he did yesterday.
9:30 a.m.: Am so stressed about today’s work event that I don’t even notice the flowers that have arrived at my desk until my coworker comments on them. The sweet note makes me smile. After a few months of dating, we’ve only recently become exclusive. I tend to be attracted to boys who don’t want commitment and get turned off by the guys who I might have a future with. But things with BF are going great, so I am hopeful. Text BF a picture and thank you.
10 a.m.: BF texts back that his sinuses are really bad, and he called in to work sick.
5:30 p.m.: Leave work to get last minute Valentine’s Day presents.
6 p.m.: Get fantastic Valentine’s Day card and Trojan one-time use vibrating cock ring (in addition to earlier Godiva chocolate purchase). We’ve tried this once before but were too drunk to really remember it or enjoy it properly. I had bought that ring to go in a bachelorette care package, and after getting wasted at a friend’s birthday thing, we thought it would be a great idea to try it. Am excited to use it without being completely drunk this time.
6:15 p.m.: The drunk people in line behind me at CVS (to buy wine) loudly comment on my last-minute Valentine’s Day purchase but thankfully only reference the card.
7:30 p.m.: Get to BF’s place and decide to order Chinese and watch a movie. Even if he wasn’t sick, neither of us wanted to go out to a crowded restaurant — or put on real clothes for that matter. He loves his card and presents.
10:30 p.m.: Watching some porn expo special on G4. We start getting turned on by all the girls and porn products. One girl shows off a sex chair that rocks and a sort of bench for bending over while being taken from behind, and I start rubbing BF’s cock while he’s spooning me. I didn’t think we’d have sex tonight because he wasn’t feeling well but am hoping I’m wrong.
10:45 p.m.: We are still spooning, and he has gotten very hard and is playing with my nipples. I tell him I’m getting wet, and he moves his hands downward. Sex with him has been fantastic from the beginning. He is very attentive and communicative and has gotten extremely good at getting me off.
11 p.m.: When I’m getting close to coming, I go down on him for a couple of minutes before I get on top and ride him slow and deep while he keeps touching me. I come and then he does.
11:30 p.m.: Cuddle with BF while he strokes my hair.