Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Brazilian Au Pair Enjoying Nameless Men and Her First Multiple Orgasm: Female, au pair, 26, Manhattan, “happily single ever after,” straight.
7:09 a.m.: I get up thinking about the date I have tonight with this guy I met online. It’s the first date; he seems all right.
11:37 a.m.: Text from Baby Face asking if I want to play hooky with him this afternoon. I laugh. I lie and say I can’t because I’m working late. I tell him we should do it tomorrow. We agree we are going to the movies.
7:15 p.m.: I’m fashionably late. Online Guy is sitting at the bar. Ugh, he looks way worse than in his profile picture. Well, I’ll have to get drunk and enjoy the free meal.
7:25 p.m.: After we introduce ourselves, Online Guy says he’s made reservations at three different restaurants. Ugly and insecure. Where’s my drink? I choose sushi.
8:30 p.m.: I’m ready to get up and leave. He mentions some friends are at a karaoke place. I say we should go! My night will be over if I go home, and that’s the last thing I want. I notice how short Online Guy is, and I promise myself to establish a height minimum from now on. No shorter than five foot eleven.
9:30 p.m.: We go to a bar after. He goes to the restroom. When he comes back, a group of five guys at the bar has surrounded me. Guys say they love my Brazilian accent, but they mean they love my Brazilian ass. Online Guy gets annoyed and wants to leave. I’m loving it. One of the guys gets my number while Online Guy pays the tab.
12:03 a.m.: I start to have memory gaps. Online Guy tells me there’s a lounge area upstairs; next thing I know we are making out on a couch. I’m so horny, I tell him to suck my nipples. Oh, I’d love to be fucked right here, right now. Big memory gap.
2 a.m.: Online Guy drops me off at the corner and tells me he wants to see me again. Sure, whatever. When I cross the street, three guys are walking toward me. They ask where I’m going; I say I’m going home. They say it’s early and invite me to a bar. I go with them.
2:05 a.m.: More beer at the bar. Gap. Kissing No-Name-Guy. Biting No-Name-Guy’s neck. We are dancing and his hands are in my pants, I like it. His face is between my boobs. I love it. I tell him to finger me, and he does. I almost come. He invites me to his friend’s place, where he’s staying. He lives in New Jersey. We go.
Sometime after 3 a.m.: He buzzes, no one answers. Someone is going in, we follow, but he doesn’t have the apartment keys, so we do it on the stairs. My jeans are around my knees, and I have my legs up. No-Name-Guy goes down on me. That feels amazing. I finally come. No-Name-Guy is about to fuck me when we hear steps. We collect our stuff and run upstairs. His friend’s apartment door is unlocked. We get undressed and fuck on the couch, and again on the floor. No-Name-Guy wraps me up in a blanket and holds me. I fall asleep.
7:09 a.m.: Oh shit, I’m late! I get up and start looking for my clothes scattered on the living room floor. I’m so hung over, I run to the bathroom and throw up my brain. I say goodbye to No-Name-Guy. He attempts to get my phone number, and I end up giving him a combination of my number and my best friend’s. I spring out to work.
2:53 p.m.: I’m late. Baby Face asks if there’s something wrong with me. I say it’s been a long day. He’s got the tickets already … for The King’s Speech. Really?
5:30 p.m.: We go to his place, order sushi, drink beer. He asks me to break the rules and finally have a sleepover. I usually get up after we have sex and leave. He says he feels like I’m the dude, and he’s the girl. I laugh. He smiles and leads me to his bedroom. He fingers me, but I’m a bit sore. I suggest tongue. He can’t find the right spot or the right speed, so I pull him up and tell him to fuck me. Baby Face makes weird faces during sex, so I avoid looking at him. We stay in bed talking, laughing, making out. Baby Face has the boyfriend style, likes to cuddle but makes no drama about my rules.
11 p.m.: His roommate leaves, We get out of the bedroom. He knows I love fucking all over the place. He fucks me from behind, my favorite. I come quickly. He’s only 23, full of energy. We cuddle for half an hour and he’s ready to go. We do it again and fall asleep.
7:30 a.m.: Baby Face does not even move. I get up and leave.
6:30 p.m.: Text from my friend: “get dressed, we are going out.”
9 p.m.: We decide to have those five shots for ten bucks. I lose count after the eighth shot.
12:10 a.m.: We go to the meatpacking district. On the street, I start talking to this cute guy, and he walks a few blocks with me. He tongue kisses me, gets my number, and I get in the cab.
1 a.m.:At the hotel, I get in, my friends don’t. Doormen love me. I meet this guy on the roof deck. He’s smoking — not hot! I hate cigarettes. We talk, and I can’t remember exactly what about. We start making out on a chaise lounge. He’s got his hands all over me. He’s a little awkward, but I’m too drunk to even mind. He drives me home and wants to go up. I tell him I can’t bring anyone home because I live with the family I work for. He wants to take me to his place, I say no, and get out. I have no idea what his name is. I go to bed.
4:43 a.m.: I text Street Guy saying I’m home. He says he’s on the train back home.
10:29 a.m.: Street Guy texts me apologizing for being wasted last night. I ignore.
1:30 p.m.: I text Sexy Man to know what he’s up to. He is this European super-sexy 37-year-old gentleman. I shiver when he touches me; he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever met. He says he’s having brunch with friends. I love that he texts back right away, always.
5:20 p.m.: I’m walking back to my dungeon thinking being an au pair sucks when Sexy Man texts me. “It’s collllld,” he writes. I smile. That’s my invitation. “Aaawww I’d love to come by and tuck you in.”
6:45 p.m.: I arrive with a bottle of wine, but we don’t bother to open. Sexy Man greets me at the door and is a perfect gentleman, helping me take my coat off. He puts me against the wall and starts undressing me. While kissing my neck he tells me how hot I am, that he misses me, and starts fingering me. He is the best at it, he knows the right speed, the right spot. He’s the only one capable of getting my G-spot. He kneels down and tongues me. My feet are no longer touching the floor. He’s got me on his shoulders; I still have my back on the wall. He’s a strong six-foot-two guy. That position is a novelty for me, and it’s so damn good it makes me have my first multiorgasmic experience. I feel like my head is going to blow, that I’m going to die. I’ve never had this much pleasure in life, and I don’t want that to stop. Ever. He carries me to his bedroom. I can’t move. I finally recover and jump on top of him. He likes to watch me going nuts. I keep riding him, eyes locked. Different from Baby Face, Sexy Man makes the sexiest faces. I love looking at him when I make him come. His entire body shakes. That’s when I know he’s done. I lie on top of him, exhausted. We are both drenched in sweat.
8:50 p.m.: We order sushi, drink the wine. Sexy Man is older and a single fuck is all I’m getting tonight. He’s fully dressed while I’m wearing only a thong. I tease him, we start making out again, but that’s it. He talks about how early he must get up. I’m frustrated; I want more. I blame it on the age and think how good he must have been in his twenties. I sigh and get ready to leave. He helps me with my coat, walks me down the street, hails a cab. Sexy Man is the perfect gentleman. He opens the cab door, kisses me good night, and makes me promise to text him as soon as I get home. I do as he commands.
6:48 a.m.: I wake up before the alarm. I hate when that happens. I take Tom Brady, my vibrator, for a hot bath.
3:30 p.m.: I message my sext friend Tall Guy saying I could really use his tongue skills right now, it’s been such a stressful day.
7:15 p.m.: Tall Guy says he wants to make me scream working his mouth all over me. The sexting goes on for over an hour.
9:40 p.m.: Famous Brazilian sends me a DM (direct message) on Twitter. He wants me to come over.
11:30 p.m.: The doorman knows me, and I go in unannounced. He is an idiot, but the best part about fucking him is telling everyone back home I did the guy they see on TV. Since he’s already 35, I barely start riding him, and then he’s done. He falls asleep.
1:55 a.m.: I poke him a couple of times to let him know I’m leaving. He hugs me and wants me to stay over. I say I can’t.
3:49 a.m.: A drunk Baby Face calls me. I don’t pick up. He leaves a voice mail.
6 p.m.: BFF calls. We go out to drink.
10 p.m.: Girlfriend, I’m drunk. This blue-eyed Wall Street guy starts talking to me and touches my leg when he talks. He’s cute; I’m intoxicated. He invites me over. I tell my friend I’m leaving, and she gives me a quizzical look. At his apartment, we hear his roommate banging some girl next door. She’s loud. I go to the bathroom. When I get out of the bathroom, roomie is naked in the kitchen. I say hello. Then Wall Street Guy throws me onto his bed and starts kissing me. We start missionary style and finish doggy style. He’s got the perfect body, but so many hideous tattoos. He falls asleep, I sneak out.
8:51 a.m.: Text from Tall Guy: “hey cutie pie, how’s your day?” He is the only one that makes me smile. I decide that’s because he’s never available. I say my day is okay, just wish I could cuddle and watch a movie. It’s snowing. He says his clients are debating about canceling dinner tonight because of the snowstorm and asks me if I want to come over. Yes! I think I need to get a Brazilian bikini wax.
8:45 p.m.: Get in a cab heading to the wide wild west. Going to the Upper West feels like going abroad. I’m nervous to see Tall Guy — we’ve never been on a date. I call him from the cab. He asks me what kind of wine I’d like to have. He’s nervous, too. That’s cute! When I get there, we hug each other, and I could just stay in that moment. He’s gorgeous. I love blue eyes, and his are a deep dark blue. We talk, order sushi, drink wine, he’s getting closer and closer. He kisses me, and it’s the perfect kiss. I melt. We start making out on the couch, and suddenly my bra is open. I ask him how he did it. He laughs and apologizes. His smile is mesmerizing. I just feel too vulnerable all of a sudden. His hands are all over me, and they feel awesome. He suggests we cuddle and watch his favorite show. That’s too perfect. I can do sex; I can’t do feelings. I’ve crossed enemy lines. I’m in distress. I need to leave.
11:40 p.m.: I grab my coat. He picks me up, I cross my legs around his waist, and he kisses me. I can feel he’s hard. All I want is to get in bed with him, but fear overcomes desire. I let go of him, we say goodbye. When I open the door, New York is covered with two feet of snow. Great. I text him. He says I can stay if I want. I want, but I can’t. Cabs are spinning in the snow. I get out and take the subway.
1:50 a.m.: I finally make it home, exhausted. I fall asleep thinking about Tall Guy.
TOTALS: Ten orgasms, four free sushi meals, three acts of oral sex (received), three acts of fingering (received), one session of self-indulgence, three guys with no names, one sexting session, and one multiorgasmic experience.
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