Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week: the Perpetually Single, Perpetually Sexually Fulfilled Gay Guy: 34, male, Upper East Side, physician assistant, single.
DAY ONE
8:15 a.m.: Snooze for an hour, then up. Still logged on to manhunt.com and adam4adam.com from last night. Check if any responses. One e-mail. Some potential.
8:45 a.m.: While walking dog, notice a guy no more than 20 years old. Cute, but not my scene. I am currently — and perpetually — single. I have had relationships, but none for more than a year, and my last was [gulp!] four years ago. The older I get, the more rigid I get in terms of my daily flow and how I operate and my focus on myself.
8:50 a.m.: Salt-and-pepper guy checks out 20-year-old guy, who’s walking in front of me. Then checks me out. Definitely my scene.
2 p.m.: Run into old hookup buddy, Q., on the subway. Apparently he has a blog of some acclaim. Trade stories about our dogs. He says he looks forward to comments on his blog.
6 p.m.: Friend bails on dinner. Go for a swim. More than one cute guy in a Speedo at the pool. Share a lane with a hottie. We finish at same time and hit the gang-bang showers together. He, along with the other gorgeous guy showering, are curiously devoid of any body hair. Makes me wonder if I should groom more.
9:30 p.m.: E-mail Q. Tell him blog is nice, but needs some cock shots. Will see if he takes the bait.
10 p.m.: He responds with something cute, but doesn’t take bait. Whatever. Log on to Manhunt. Exchange e-mails with a French guy, R., who I’ve e-mailed with multiple times, but never met. Make tentative plans for Thursday.
12:20 a.m.: Horny. Internet porn, wishing I could take a big one like that. Jerk off. Bed.
DAY TWO
10:30 a.m.: Wake up from dream where Martha Stewart told me my dog is well behaved and that I should do a segment on her show. Does it get any better? Log on to Manhunt. E-mail from a bi dude living the str8 life. Not sure what that means, but it sounds sort of hot.
12:45 p.m.: Sit down to do some certification coursework. Peruse Manhunt. Get e-mail that there’s an appointment available to get my tattoo touched up. May limit my activity for awhile. Hmmm … decide to get the tattoo worked on anyway. Wonder if I should hook up pre-tattoo.
12:50 p.m.: Remember friend was trying to get a little group together tonight to mess around. Not sure if I should partake. Will see if he follows through.
1 p.m.: Horny, thinking about group. Watch some porn promos online. Trying not to jerk off.
1:20 p.m.: Make plans for a quickie with S., guy I’ve chatted with but never met, after pool, before tattoo.
3 p.m.: Swim. No hotties.
4 p.m.: Meet up with S. His hairyness makes me think I’m comfortably in the middle of the grooming curve. Hook up. Probably won’t see him again, but nice to meet before tattoo.
8:10 p.m.: Dinner at friend’s place. Receive texts inquiring about availability for tonight’s group action. Decline given fresh tattoo status.
12:20 a.m.: S. e-mails saying that he had a good time. Sweet.
DAY THREE
12:15 p.m.: E-mail on Manhunt from a Kiwi. Yum. Keep him in the hopper and will see. Work tonight and studying to do, not sure if there’s time. Masturbate in shower.
2:25 p.m.: Invited to a different group by a buddy on Manhunt. I have to work, though.
4:15 p.m.: Shopping, run into an exec at L.L. Bean that I dated a bit (of course, I’m wearing the only shirt from L.L. Bean that I own: ugh). Go to shake his hand, and he goes for the hug. D’oh. Idle chitchat ensues.
7:30 p.m.: Work, night shift. Boo.
DAY FOUR
9 a.m.: Exhausted and feeling incredibly unsexy. Bedtime.
6 p.m.: GLBT fund-raiser. Should totally be my demo.
7:30 p.m.: Lotsa cuties, some eye contact, talk to no one. My usual M.O.
10:30 p.m.: Online bud hits me up for quickie. I’m wavering. Coursework, and I have to work again tomorrow night.
10:40 p.m.: Says he cut himself grooming (yet another reason I don’t get too aggressive in that category) and would only want to suck me off. Not my preference. Reschedule for time when no one is injured.
DAY FIVE
8:30 a.m.: Up. Walk dog. Realized last night at 11 p.m. that I have something due at 4 p.m.
12:40 p.m.: Run out to grab salad. A regular hookup texts me saying he’s horny. I demur given looming deadline.
12:41 p.m.: He says he’s REALLY horny and will be quick.
12:42 p.m.: After much thought, relent. I reply: “But only if it’s quick!”
1:10 p.m.: He has his way with me. I do love that. True to his word: quick.
1:30 p.m.: Back to paper. Boo.
8 p.m.: Work (a.k.a. the absence of sex).
DAY SIX
9 a.m.: Home from work. Zero thoughts of sex.
5:15 p.m.: Gym. Some cute guys, all straight. Nice-looking uncut guy in the locker room with a Jack Spade bag. Potential, but throwing off straight vibes. On to the Stairmaster.
10:10 p.m.: E-mail from R. about tomorrow night. Some playful banter. He suggests a bar. I up the stakes to somewhere slightly fancy. He’s French. He’s used to it.
11:15 p.m.: Horny thinking about R. Jerk off to some online porn.
DAY SEVEN
6:30 a.m.: Working day today. Not used to it. Looking forward to meeting R. tonight
9:10 a.m.: Hot surgeon walks through unit. Like to think that I don’t think him any hotter because he’s a surgeon, but I might.
9 p.m.: Meet R. at bar. He’s quite handsome and true to his pics. Outlook good.
9:05 p.m.: Turns out he’s Belgian and not French. Sorta weird that he said French online, when he’s Belgian. He says it’s easier. Still seems odd.
Midnight: Good chatter. After three drinks, he’s now VERY hot. Back to his, despite my speech about not being able to leave dog for extended periods. The dog can hold it.
2:30 a.m.: Exhausted. Satisfied. Home. Intend to e-mail him tomorrow (don’t want to seem TOO eager) for second meeting. Genuinely enjoyed his entire package. Potential for more than just sex, which I haven’t had in some time. We’ll see.
TOTALS: Four acts of masturbation; three acts of sex with three partners; two aborted hookups, one owing to shaving injury.
