Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Semi-Conservative Account Manager Who Likes Dirty Sex and Euphemism: 24, female, Brooklyn, straight, account manager.
DAY ONE
7:30 a.m.: Wake up extremely horny and a little restless. Decide to have a little “solo session.”
9 a.m.: I am semi-conservative and hush-hush about sex, so writing this is a big deal for me. I’m staring at the hotties on the subway, imagining what they have hiding underneath their clothes. I wonder what it would be like to sleep with someone on an empty moving subway?
10:30 a.m.: Sext Boyfriend that I’m thinking about his “friend down there.” Giggle to myself. We’ve been together for a year, and are in different neighborhoods, so it’s practically a long-distance relationship.
11:40 a.m.: Fantasize about BF pushing me up against the wall. My “lower heart” — as a woman I saw on the subway who had a vagina tattooed to the back of her neck called it — is getting excited.
12:45 p.m.: Snacking on trail mix from the vending machine. There are cashews in the bag. I’ve always thought that cashews looked like penises. Any correlation to the idea of nuts? I can’t be the only one who thinks this.
5 p.m.: BF texts that he is going out drinking with his buddies. Buzz kill. I guess my lower heart will have to wait.
8:15 p.m.: Standing on subway, sandwiched between two men. Both are ugly, but the idea of two men intrigues me.
11:30 p.m.: I think about how I should have had amazing sex with BF but instead he is probably stumbling home. My lower heart is antsy, so I have a solo session.
DAY TWO
7:30 a.m.: Wake up spooning my pillow, and have a solo session. There is nothing like starting the day relaxed and refreshed.
9:15 a.m.: There is a hot, tall, dark, and handsome guy with gorgeous blue eyes looking at me. I smile, not really sure if he is looking at me, so I look around to see if he could be looking at someone else, and then look back at him — he is still smiling. Go me!
12:30 p.m.: Ask Work Crush if he likes my new shoes. They are his favorite color, purple. Yes, I’m actually playing with my hair and chewing gum. He must think I’m a smiling idiot.
5:15 p.m.: Text Boyfriend about how I can’t wait to see what “his friend” can do tonight.
5:45 p.m.: I’m at the gyno office. This is probably the most action my lower heart will see all week.
11 p.m.: It’s ridiculously humid outside. This makes me turned on, since being hot and sticky reminds me of what I feel like after hot sex.
DAY THREE
7:30 a.m.: Wake up feeling restless, but decide it’s best to save myself for the BF tonight.
9 a.m.: Cute Hugh Grant–looking fella across the aisle smiles at me on the subway. I smile back and look away. He begins to mouth words, probably just singing to his music, but it looks like he is opening his mouth and insinuating that he wants me to give him a blow job.
9:10 a.m.: He put on his sunglasses. Um, we are in an underground subway, does he really need sunglasses?
10:30 a.m.: Text BF to tell him what sort of PJs I got for him tonight. He responds that he can’t wait.
2:30 p.m.: This feels like the longest day ever. I just want some action, already!
6 p.m.: Get on subway — I’m so excited! I haven’t seen BF all week.
7 p.m.: Walk into Boyfriend’s apartment, give him a kiss, and then proceed directly to his bed.
7:15 p.m.: His “friend down there” comes up to say hello, and I give it a kiss. I let him finish on my face.
8:30 p.m.: Round two. He goes down on me.
10:30 p.m.: Round three. We tease each other and fool around, until he gives it to me through “the back door.” Not my favorite position, so let’s just say I’m taking one for the team.
11 p.m.: We pass out and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
DAY FOUR
6 a.m.: I feel a nudge from him to show me he wants some lovin.’ He caresses me, then proceeds to go down on me. I’m in bliss. We pass out and go back to bed.
9:30 a.m.: I roll over to spoon him in hopes of getting him to give me some lovin’. I graze his lower half with my hand. Friend is up, but my BF is still asleep. I begin to stroke it a little and all of a sudden, my BF is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for action. He caresses and licks my nipples and I give him a “morning kiss” down there.
12:30 p.m.: Back from breakfast, on the couch. We are spooning on the couch and he starts thrusting from behind. I think I know what he is hinting at. We move into the bedroom, clothes fly everywhere.
12:35 p.m.: He has me leaned over the bed, ah — tingle! He finishes practically instantly.
4 p.m.: We take a little nap, which turns into some heated foreplay, and I head south. Yes, your mouth can go numb. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
11 p.m.: I’m out at a bar on the LES with female friends, drinking water and gin and tonic.
12:30 a.m.: The bar is bumping and there are a lot of good-looking guys. Britney’s “Toxic” comes on, and I proceed with caution. I think Britney is fun to dance to, but I’m pretty sure the way us girls dance to it is hit or miss.
3:30 a.m.: Text BF good-night and that I’m tipsy, and pass out.
DAY FIVE
9:30 a.m.: Wake up, slightly drunk still, but extremely horny. Solo session.
Midnight: Uneventful Sunday. I’m horny but too exhausted to do anything about it. Pass out.
DAY SIX
7:15 a.m.: I wake up extremely sore, not really knowing why, though. Perhaps Saturday is catching up with me.
9 a.m.: Fall asleep on subway. Don’t even care who’s nearby.
3:30 p.m.: Text BF naughty thoughts about our weekend activities.
8:15 p.m.: I go to the gym, and while I’m stretching I notice a couple of cute guys look at me, only to realize they are staring past me and checking out the blonde wearing nothing but a sports bra and spandex.
12:15 a.m.: I’m so wiped, sleepy time.
DAY SEVEN
7:15 a.m.: I wake up feeling restless. Scratch my “morning itch.”
9 a.m.: I text my BF and tell him about my amazing “performance” this morning. He replies that he feels left out and we should meet up. I can’t today — too many meetings.
Noon: Get a text from an old hookup telling me he is going to be in town and we should hook up like old times. Um … no, thank you, been there, done that.
2 p.m.: In a meeting, thinking how all my older male counterparts are married with kids. They’re such assholes and not that good-looking. Why are all the women single? They all seem like great catches. They are probably secretly crazy.
4 p.m.: Work Crush has such a nice smile.
6 p.m.: Text BF that I’m thinking about him and am sorry I couldn’t meet up.
7:15 p.m.: Gym. In spinning, sweating it out to trance and house. Makes me wonder if sex while under the influence of drugs is as good as everyone says it is.
9 p.m.: Watch reality TV. Why is it that all the guys are either too good to be true or total douches?
11 p.m.: Fall asleep. Man, I need a vacation. And to be swept off my feet.
TOTALS: Two acts of intercourse; three acts of fellatio; two acts of cunnilingus; one act of anal sex; five acts of masturbation; one rejection of former hookup.
