Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Stay-at-Home-Dad Trying to Sneak Sex Into His New Schedule: Male, Prospect Heights, straight, 36, married.
3 a.m.: The Wife and I are on different schedules tonight so I am up feeding the baby and watching English Premier League Soccer. We have had sex four times since the baby came (seven weeks ago tomorrow), which I think is pretty good. Things no one tells you: We have to use condoms! One of the great pleasures of monogamy/marriage is unprotected sex, but after the birth, The Wife is extra fertile. We definitely do not want more babies right now so we have to use protection. Lame. Neither of us like it. But it has led to a hand job and a blow job. Six nonmasturbatory orgasms in six weeks (not so much last week).
8:30 a.m.: We’re finally both in bed together napping. All we do is nap because we have to get up and feed the baby every three or four hours. The early morning naps tend to be snuggly. Therefore, I tend to look at each nap as a potential opportunity to fool around. We are just getting beyond some sleepy spooning when my mom knocks on the door. No soup for me.
9 a.m.: We actually manage to send my mom away (she’s staying in a neighbor’s apartment) and go back to bed. My hopes are high. We went to Babeland in Brooklyn a couple of days ago and bought a variety pack of condoms hoping to find one that doesn’t suck and some dulce de leche-flavored edible lube for facilitation of pleasurable hand job/blow job combination. But the baby starts crying before I can even bring it up.
11 a.m.: Running some errands in the car. I see several long-legged young women going to the gym and going to the laundry mat and riding bicycles, and I stare unapologetically. I must be horny. I consider whether or not to masturbate later. It’s complicated. What if she finally wants to try out the Babeland purchases and I’ve just jerked off? I am too sleep-deprived to climax more than once every couple of days
5 p.m.: Hanging with my mom. The baby’s asleep so I decide to take a nap. Once I am alone in the bedroom I give in to my horniness and masturbate. I fantasize about The Wife blindfolding me and inviting one of her friends in to play with me. I try to guess who it is. Eventually I decide it’s Androgynous Avant-Garde Actress Friend and come hard.
10:15 p.m.: Night nurse tonight so we sleep! But not so much with the sexy time when there’s a large jolly Trinidadian woman taking care of the baby in the other room. I made the right call. No Babeland sampling for me today.
8 a.m.: Stupid morning erection. No chance of anything doing because we have to get up, get the report from Night Nurse, The Wife has to pump … and we do not go back to bed.
9:30 a.m.: We do finally decide to go back to bed, but with the baby. Excellent times, but not sexy. Side note: Already creeped out any time I happen to get any sort of half erection within ten feet of the baby. Nothing to be done about it but to feel weird and creepy.
6 p.m.: I find myself on Seventh Avenue in Park Slope at what is apparently nanny cigarette break time. Lots and lots of extremely pretty young women with babies walking around and me without a baby to flirt with! Youth is so alluring. Not that I’m that old, but a fit 23-year-old doesn’t even need to be that cute to be hot.
6:10 p.m.: I am picking up a used bottle warmer from a mother of a 9-month-old. Bottle Warmer is just about my age and pretty. Tan, short, freckly, brunette with a nice crinkly twinkle in her eyes. In good shape except for a strangely poochy belly (not like “I had a baby nine months ago,” more like she’s pregnant again, which she isn’t). Bottle Warmer invites me in and we flirt a bit. She just went back to work, I ask what day care she’s using, she asks how we manage eventually I give her $15 for the warmer, she walks me down the stairs (“need to get the stroller anyway”) and I leave. Is this a self-created fantasy or was she really flirting? Hard to say. I am too new to this parent vibe to know, but I don’t really care. It was fun.
6:40 p.m.: When I get back home The Wife whispers in my ear that even though we are doing really unsexy things she is suddenly in the mood and we should have some sex later. Awesome! Night Nurse is coming again tonight so we’ll see how that works out.
10:40 p.m.: We are cuddling, with anticipation in the air, when The Wife says, “Now I’m tired.” But she smiles and keeps stroking my chest. The Wife definitely falls into what has always been my type of woman — mouthy broads. She is an actress and often cast as the spunky, tart best friend or the hard-ass boss you want to fuck. Perfect boobs, curvy ass, tiny waist, lots of crazy curly blonde hair. The boobs are currently enormous, but still perfect with their enlarged nipples (occasionally leaking milk). The waist is still getting back to fighting shape, but already looking good. “Want to try out the new lube?” she asks. “Absolutely,” I reply. No fool me. Whatever she’s in the mood for, I will take. So we open up the tiny bottle of dulce de leche lube and she starts rubbing. As lube, it is a bit disappointing and she has to squeeze more on to keep it going. “It smells good ” she says a bit noncommittally. Before it dries up again I ask, “Wanna find out how it tastes?” “Sure.” And down she goes. The Wife really enjoys giving blow jobs and she’s good at it too. Technically, sure, but it’s the attitude that really sells it. She loves to make me come. I stick my hand down her pajama pants and finger her while she sucks and rubs. I come pretty quick, considering yesterday’s masturbation. And though she does not, she is happy to go to sleep. “It’s good to give,” she says. I promise to give back next time.
11:05 p.m.: “It tastes familiar,” she says. “Pancake syrup,” I say. “Yes! The artificial kind. Aunt Jemima.” We laugh. May the hand job/blow job combo with edible lube forever be known as an Aunt Jemima.
12:03 a.m.: We are oddly still awake and The Wife is wondering aloud about body chocolate versus regular chocolate. Is there anything different about it? What makes it better to lick off someone? Is chocolate bad for your skin? I offer that it is probably just a gimmick and actually tastes like crap. What you really should do, if you want to pursue this avenue of sexual experimentation, is to get some high-quality, good-tasting fudge sauce.
2:30 p.m.: I am out to lunch with the baby and my mom at Alchemy in Park Slope and we walk by the Chocolate Room. We buy a few truffles and I get a jar of fudge sauce with devilish intentions.
4:30 p.m.: The baby is fed and asleep, my mom retreats to her sublet, The Wife is treating herself to the new Planet of the Apes movie and I suddenly find myself alone in the apartment. What to do? Lately, I am really tired of Internet porn. I switched from amateur to homemade, then solo homemade, but lately I’ve gone soft-core. I click to my new favorite cheesecake site, page3.com, home to topless models for British tabloid newspaper the Sun. I go to their free video page and within minutes find sweet release. Man, I have obviously been getting more sleep. I am on a roll!
6:45 p.m.: The Wife gets home and notices the fudge sauce. She seems intrigued, but we’re on all night duty tonight.
8:45 a.m.: It’s been a good night. Baby slept for five hours at one point. We stay up after the 7 a.m. feed and watch TV. It feels good to hang out and be human beings. Out of the blue, The Wife is hungry, and apparently horny, because she wants to try out the fudge sauce! She throws some in the microwave and I am hard in an instant. It’s hot, but not too hot. She licks and sucks differently. Knowing it is delicious chocolate and not necessarily my amazing penis that is driving the unusually strong suction is only vaguely distracting. We decide to try out one of the new condoms (Vivid Thin) and the new batteries in her fingertip vibrator. Now the vibe is strong enough to make her giggle. We have missionary sex for the first time since she gave birth. Her boobs are sore so I hold myself up. My arms get tired, and the condom is only marginally different than any other, but missionary is novel for once and we are both turned on so after she comes a second time I make it, just barely, and roll over before I fall on the sacred and sensitive bosoms.
9 a.m.: Over more TV we discuss the possibilities of using the fudge sauce on her nipples and my creating some chocolate milk. This actually plays into a new, untapped fantasy of mine wherein I nurse on the lactating (and pleasantly enormous) breast. It seems wrong to steal nutrition from my child, but
9:30 p.m.: Night Nurse is early and we go out for a cocktail at Wetherup. It’s awesome and we feel like sophisticated adults and talk about when we first got together and then go home and go to sleep. This is perhaps the sexiest thing we’ve done all week. We hold hands on the way there and the way back.
7:30 a.m.: Nothing doing this morning, not even the usual morning spoon.
2:45 p.m.: Another nap-time masturbation session. The Wife told me she masturbated yesterday for the first time since giving birth. Nap time, we agree, is the best time for this. She likes to do it on her stomach, which I find a real turn on. This and the memory of the lube is enough. I actually masturbate thinking about The Wife a lot. As much as I love thinking about other women, images of The Wife are so clear and compelling that I keep coming back to them even after all this time.
9:30 a.m.: Rough night. We snapped at each other. I was pissed because The Wife implied that I was too inept to properly prepare bottles. But we are snuggling. I canoodle her boobs and she likes it. It doesn’t lead anywhere, but that is okay.
6:30 p.m.: My mom is babysitting. We go out to dinner at James. Have a great time talking and flirting and being more relaxed than we have been in a long time. It rains like a motherfucker and we stare at the storm, grinning like idiots. We have three drinks each. Oysters, pork belly, and lemon pound cake for dessert. Bliss. Will we be sober and awake enough to consummate the date? We’ll see.
10:30 p.m.: Nope.
11:45 a.m.: Take a shower after Facebooking and get aroused thinking about a woman who tried to seduce me in college. Extremely cute in a big-eyed, round-faced, curvy farm-girl sort of a way. She was the lead in a play I was playing a supporting role in. We are Facebook friends and she also just had a baby and is posting lots of pictures of herself. Her long ago great desire for me made for a satisfying fantasy involving her great appreciation of my dick and sucking milk out of her bosom. Who knew having a kid was going to give me a lactating fetish? Also, I am intrigued by Facebook as a porn alternative. My rule: No one you’re likely to see/lives in your city. But pictures of old flames/ones that got away/people you never had the nerve to ask stimulate the imagination indeed.
2 p.m.: Playing bocce in Park Slope at Union Hall. Signed up for a team in the league and then got pregnant. Haven’t been to many of the games, but today is the playoffs and here I am. Our team is the hippie Burning Man group of my friends and we have a great time. Perhaps too laid back to care enough about winning, but fuck it, it’s bocce. The team we’re playing has these two women on it who are textbook pretty but don’t do it for me at all. One J.Crew and one LL Bean girl. I am much more into the funky bookish Asian chick and the chubby blonde with tattoos who have shown up to cheer us on than the catalog models. Could I be more Brooklyn?
5 p.m.: Night Nurse calls in sick. I am now facing the prospect of being up all night when I was barely hanging on till 10 after the afternoon of light drinking and bocce. Nuts. Definitely no sex for me; I am a tired puppy. Probably won’t come for days, but it’s been a pretty damned good week, so who am I to complain?
10 p.m.: The Wife is making a birthday cake for my mom (from a box, we’re not crazy) and she saves the bowl for me to lick. If I could only get her to let me lick it off her nipples
TOTALS: six orgasms; four acts of masturbation; one pancake-syrup-flavored lube assisted act of oral sex; one act of intercourse.