Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Party Promoter in the Paranoid Stage of a New Relationship: 30, male, Chelsea, gay, in a new relationship.
DAY ONE
11 a.m.: Alarm goes off. I notice a handprint on the wall (lube?) and remember the insanely hot sex the night before. Tom’s erection makes me think he wants to do it again; the way he swats me away confirms that he doesn’t. Jerk off in disappointment.
1 p.m.: Slow day at work, and boredom makes me horny. The empty office makes for ideal bathroom masturbation. I take advantage of the situation.
2:45 p.m.: Facebook chatting with a cute boy who invites me over. I am tempted, but think about how nice it felt having Tom next to me this morning when I woke up. I’m not sure if he wants it to be exclusive; honestly, I am not sure if I do either. He’s hot. I’d be a fool to fuck this up, but so would he. I uncharacteristically defer. What is happening to me?!?
7 p.m.: Tom’s coming over. I make dinner and iron his shirt for work the next day. I like doing things for him. We go to the drugstore for mixers and he reminds me to buy condoms. It’s gonna be a good night!
11 p.m.: Have drinks with his ex’s current boyfriend. The guy is hitting on us. So weird. Drinks lead to shots which lead to totally wasted.
11:10 p.m.: I notice Tom texting someone named Chris and become suspicious and annoyed.
3:30 a.m.: Still pissed off, I tell him I’m ready to go. I’m horny but annoyed at his texting. I feel his erection against my back as I pass out.
DAY TWO
10:30 a.m.: I go down on Tom as a nice alternative to the annoying BlackBerry alarm. I know he’s awake and enjoying it.
10:42 a.m.: I’m showered, he’s still in bed. His lingering erection tempts me and but I resist in order to avoid a re-shower. I’m mad at myself for passing out last night, as it was his turn to bottom.
2:45 p.m.: I’m paranoid he’s sleeping with other people. Begin texting old flames to meet this evening. I need to keep an even score.
3:05 p.m.: No response to my texts. What’s wrong with me?
4:40 p.m.: Home from work early and can still smell sex in my room. Want to masturbate, debate using my Fleshlight still full of lube from the other night. Decide that’s disgusting and make a vodka soda instead.
4:44 p.m.: Vodka is not the answer. Mildly entertaining Internet porn leads to a lackluster orgasm.
9 p.m.: Tom wants to meet later tonight. I immediately smile and my crotch begins to swell. Best friend and I drink while I wait.
11:20 p.m.: He arrives and I greet him with a kiss and an inappropriate grope. He swats me away and looks annoyed. Is he uninterested or socially conscious? I have never been good at gauging this type of thing.
2:15 a.m.: We’re both drunk and it’s time to go home. We get to my apartment, move to my bed, and nothing else seems to matter — he is with me. Well, that, and that it’s his turn to bottom.
DAY THREE
9:45 a.m.: Wake up not very horny. This is strange to me. He looks pretty lying there naked.
Noon: I have lunch with my ex, our first post-breakup face-to-face. Throughout lunch I am generally uninterested in the conversation and text an old flame.
3 p.m.: Lying in bed, alone and horny for the first time today. Browse for some Internet porn, masturbate, and take a nap. Headed out of town for a business trip this evening.
6:30 p.m.: Board crowded Amtrak train and scope the seats for someone attractive to sit next to. Have always fantasized about a train hookup, either in the bathroom or perhaps just a hand job hidden under my jacket. I end up seated next to an overweight man scarfing greasy pizza.
10 p.m.: Hotel. Masturbate quickly before falling asleep.
DAY FOUR
6 a.m.: This is the earliest I have been awake in ages. Twitter tells me Tom was locked out of his apartment last night. I jealously think about where he slept.
10 a.m.: Spreadsheets are so fucking boring. I see a hot guy walk past my temporary office and can’t help but think about pulling him into the bathroom and having dirty, anonymous sex. I have a Kit Kat instead.
3:15 p.m.: I get a text message from Tom asking when he can see me. I change my plans to make sure I get back tonight.
8 p.m.: Tom meets me at my apartment looking exceptionally cute. We laugh and have a good time doing seemingly nothing. Time passes so quickly when he is around.
10:30 p.m.: We lie in bed watching stupid television to kill time before going out. Holding his hand with our legs intertwined feels nice. I wonder if he is thinking the same thing.
1:30 a.m.: We decide taking bath together is far more appealing than a sweaty club. Our throbbing erections lead us to try sex in the water. The lack of lube and condoms lead us to stop.
2:15 a.m.: Order on-demand porn and imitate what we see onscreen. Discuss what we like sexually, when we did it best, and what we want to do more of.
5:20 a.m.: Naked and sweaty, I notice the time. Shit! I have an 8 a.m. train to catch to go see my family. Try to fall asleep but want to get off just once more. I make my way downward and deep-throat for the first time.
DAY FIVE
10 a.m.: Barely functional due to lack of sleep. Exhaustion has taken away any and all urges.
3:10 p.m.: Receive a text message from much older friend who suggests a ” … fun sexy night with lots of cute boys. Maybe hire some workin’ boys?” Is this what people think of me? Luckily I am out of town and won’t be tempted. I mean, he would be paying …
6 p.m.: Staying with my family for the weekend. On the way to my parents’, I go through my phone looking for old phone numbers. I have to have a hookup left in this town!
9 p.m.: No hookups found, so I resort to the computer. Skype automatically opens and I see that the figure skater is online. He and I have been having webcam sex for a while now. I ask if he’s interested, and of course he is.
9:20 p.m.: The tawdry banter continues and I am oddly aroused by the thought that I could be caught at any moment in positions that would no doubt make my mother blush.
9:30 p.m.: Clean up after the surprisingly satisfying cyber session and head to bed. My goal is twelve hours sleep.
DAY SIX
10 a.m.: Wake up feeling refreshed, ignore my erection, and jump out of bed.
1 p.m.: Family fun has officially dried up and I can only think about finding a suburban boy to help pass the time. I go online and see a few names on my buddy list that provided fun in the past, but none seem to be able or interested today.
10 p.m.: Dinner with straight friends is finished. I had a great time, but begin to wonder why I haven’t heard from Tom. Does he think about me when I’m away?
1:20 a.m.: Decide Internet porn is the best bet for a quick release and sound sleep. I discover a new website and am amazed at the variety of free videos available. My motive shifts from getting off quickly to fulfilling my intrigue. Felching … wow. People really do that?!?
DAY SEVEN
9:15 a.m.: Wake up, laptop next to me, jeans buckled tight. I decide to pick up where I left off. Not sure if it’s the morning sun or my sobriety, but the intriguing videos of last night no longer have the same effect. I close the lid, begin thinking of being inside of Tom, and quickly climax.
Noon: Help my father with some yard work and wonder if I look butch wearing a flannel shirt pushing a wheelbarrow. Decide “butch” is probably not the right word.
3:35 p.m.: In the shower, I notice the removable showerhead that was the source of much pleasure for me as a teen and contemplate getting reacquainted. Then I think about who else in the house may have had a similar relationship with it. A bit of vomit in my mouth, I get out of the shower totally flaccid.
8 p.m.: En route back to city. Tom will meet me when I arrive. It’s only been two days, but I miss him.
10 p.m.: We lay in my bed, enjoying being together. I am hosting a party later and look forward to having him next to me. The lube handprint is still on the wall and I hope to make it a pair before morning.
TOTALS: Seven acts of masturbation, once at the office and twice at the parents’ house; two acts of fellatio; four acts of intercourse, once aborted in tub; five failed or refused offerings of hookups with others.
