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Sex Diaries

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The 29-Year-Old Desperately in Love With a 19-Year-Old

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the 29-Year-Old Desperately in Love With a 19-Year-Old: Female, Bensonhurst, straight. DAY ONE 10:30 a.m.: He calls me from work, and I ignore the call on purpose to seem not so interested. He's 19, and I'm 29. This is my tactic to keep him interested and wondering what I'm doing. 10:33 a.m.:: Two minutes later I feel stupid for not answering his call because I really want to hear his voice. I contemplate on whether to return his phone call, but don't. 5 p.m.: I return his call, knowing he's not going to answer because he is on the train coming home from work. I leave him a voice mail asking him to call me back when he hears this. I wish he would come over tonight, but he's very inconsistent.

By Arianne Cohen

The Hot, Everything-But Guy

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Hot, Everything-But Guy: 26, male, Chelsea, gay, single. DAY ONE 7:05 a.m.: Wake up an hour before alarm, ugh. I need to pee. 7:10 a.m.: Once the morning wood deflates, I climb down stairs from my loft bed, put on boxers, and scurry out of apartment into hallway to the shared bathroom. 7:45 a.m.: Making yummy omelette with hot peppers when I hear sounds of flip-flops flip-flopping from the hall. I look through the peephole with a clear view of hallway to the shared shower hoping for Hot Neighbor in apartment #4 or guy above me in #10. Nope, it's just Cliff.

By Arianne Cohen

The Temporarily Celibate Actress

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Temporarily Celibate Actress: 23, female, Astoria, straight, single. DAY ONE 10:13 a.m.: Co-worker from my part-time job resurfaces from her walk of shame and begins to give me details of her date last night. I am living vicariously through her. I walk away before I get TMI (too much information). 12:04 p.m.: Working out at the gym during lunch has sufficed to get rid of my sexual frustration, since I don’t seem to do sex lately. I’ve only slept with one guy and am singly in pursuit of lucky number two. The gym provides eye candy, although working out in the theater district leaves me constantly questioning what team they’re on. 12:23 p.m.: Male co-worker is scoping me out as I am elliptical-ing and wording lines to myself to memorize my audition for the end of the week. He asks me if I’m working later. I would probably hook up with him if he didn’t already have a kid.

By Arianne Cohen

The S&M Comedian

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the S&M Comedian: 27, male, Midtown East, straight, single. DAY ONE 8 p.m.: Meet Jen for dinner. 10:25 p.m.: Back at my place and Jen tells me she is sleepy from the wine. 10:30 p.m.: We go to the bedroom, and I put a leather collar on her for the first time. She gives me that loving submissive look. Tie her hands behind her back with rope.

By Arianne Cohen

The Multi-Orgasmic Woman Test-driving a Potential New Boyfriend

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Multi-Orgasmic Woman Test-driving a Potential New Boyfriend: 23, female, Greenwich Village, straight. DAY ONE 5 a.m.: Suffering from insomnia, horny. Contemplate how I’ve been single for over a year after an intense three-year relationship, burnt out on casual/drunk/let’s-just-be-fuck-buddies sex. Realize Potential New Boyfriend is just finishing his shift at Über-trendy restaurant. Send booty-call text. 6 a.m.: Potential BF arrives smelling like truffle oil. He suggests he shower, I respond by yanking him on top of me. He tastes like red wine. Excellent sex ensues.

By Arianne Cohen

The Single and Lonely Hot Actor

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Single and Lonely Hot Actor: 32, male, Manhattan, straight. DAY ONE 8:32 p.m.: I am sitting at the Union Square Starbucks fidgeting, and avoiding eye contact of a brunette, who seems to be tirelessly staring at me. 8:47 p.m.: Brunette left. I'm too lazy to hunt these days. Today the doe lives. The alpha male retreats. I've been single for two years or so. I've dated a lot, but I'm single. I just want someone to wake up to on a daily basis. 10:30 p.m.: In bed. Thinking of Ashley, a girl I dated for four months. We have not spoken for about five years. I think she didn't trust me. Or thought maybe that I was unreliable. She's my One Who Got Away. I wanted a life with that woman. Something tells me she is lonely. Very lonely. Obviously.

By Arianne Cohen

The Ivy League Co-ed Who Has Orgasms in Her Sleep

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Ivy Leaguer Who Has Orgasms in Her Sleep: 19, Manhattan, female, straight, single. DAY ONE 10 p.m.: Banker Guy, a friend I sporadically spoon with, calls me. He's just left work, which I find ridiculous. Inform him that I'm going to picket his company headquarters in a "Free Banker Guy" T-shirt. Make vague plans to hang out. 11 p.m.: Turns out Banker Guy and I are headed to the same NYU dorm. Hug hello awkwardly in front of ten of his friends. Before splitting up, we make tentative late-night plans. I get the feeling he's going to flake. 12:30 a.m.: Cute friend comes over to my place. Hangs with my gay roomie and me. I'm tipsy after one glass of Champagne. Make a joke about sleeping with cute friend. He kindly rejects me: "That would be letting the rumor mill win." Apparently, people already think he's a notch on my bedpost. 3 a.m.: Cute friend leaves. Sadly, our friendship will not be heading toward the bedroom anytime soon. 3:15 a.m.: Banker Guy texts, "Sorry babe." Knew it.

By Arianne Cohen

The Semi-Depressed Museum Worker

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Semi-Depressed Museum Worker: 35, the Bronx, male, gay, single. DAY ONE 6:15 a.m.: Fire alarm goes off in my apartment because my ex, who still lives here, left the stove eye on all night after cooking. Scared the shit out of me! Thankfully, all was fine. 9:45 a.m.: Didn't masturbate this morning because I was running late for work due to the aforementioned fire alarm. Horny as hell on the subway, checking out the packages of the fine Bronx Rican boyz. Yeah, papi! 11:59 a.m.: My Madonna obsession always gets the best of me at work. Can't stop checking out Madonnalicious.com every five minutes to find out the latest Maddy gossip. Love her.

By Arianne Cohen

The Self-Professed ‘Damaged Goods’ From a Never-Ending Breakup

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Self-Professed "Damaged Goods" From a Never-Ending Breakup: 25, Brooklyn, female, advertising associate, single. DAY ONE 7:59 a.m.: Awake suddenly with a fierce charley horse that makes me cry out in pain. Wonder if my housemates might confuse the outburst with crazy morning sex. Dismiss idea. 11:20 a.m.: Review text message that my date from the night before, Terrance, sent me fifteen minutes after our subway entrance make-out session and five minutes after I informed him of my post-relationship status. I had called myself "damaged goods." His text: "Ur the best-lookin' damaged goods I ever seen." 12:56 p.m.: Log into Gmail account and see that my ex, Marcus, is online. I say "ex" with quotation marks. After a one-year relationship, followed by a one-year hiatus while I was abroad and then a six-month breakup, we still talk … and fuck … a lot.

By Arianne Cohen

The Horny Editor Visiting the 'Rents

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Horny Editor Visiting the 'Rents: 25, Long Island City, male, gay, single. DAY ONE 10 a.m.: Hit the snooze button four times. Morning wood. Not so much a raging hard-on as a gentle swelling. An ex-boyfriend once told me that he couldn't get off with morning wood. I think that's become a self-fulfilling prophecy for me. 12:10 p.m.: Co-worker and I speculate about Eli Roth's sexuality. He sends me a link to "Eli Roth Has the Biggest Dick in Hollywood." It's his naked thighs that turn me on, not the enormous prosthetic penis. 2 p.m.: Totally uninterested in naked-porn-star photo I receive with a press release for some gay party. I worry that gay porn has totally desensitized me. 3:05 p.m.: This guy e-mails me — he has like two boyfriends; we go out to dinner and make out occasionally; it's way too complicated. I invite him out to Lotus. Not sure why, I don't even like him that much.

By Arianne Cohen

The Solo Filmmaker Looking for Harmony

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Solo Filmmaker Looking for Harmony: 26, Astoria, female, single. DAY ONE 8:30 a.m.: Woken up by vibration somewhere in my sheets. 8:31 a.m.: It's my phone. I just started dating again after a two-year hiatus. I don't answer in fear that it's one of my dates. 8:40 a.m.: Can't get back to sleep. Go pee. Sore from masturbating last night. Haven't had sex in 23 months. 8:45 a.m.: Check e-mail. Received eight matches from eHarmony. Just signed up last night, so I'm super-excited. One guy is holding a little puppy. Begin to figure out how eHarmony works. Send "1st Questions" to the puppy guy.

By Arianne Cohen

The Cheating Long-Distance Girlfriend

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Cheating Long-Distance Girlfriend: 25, Harlem, (sort of) straight, in a relationship. DAY ONE 7:15 a.m.: Running late but think about Joseph while standing over coffee pot. I'm in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend in Paris but recently had sex with Joseph for the first time. We spend a lot of time together. 10 a.m.: Phone call to boyfriend with sweet words and such. 12:17 p.m.: Joseph and I make loose plans to hang out later. Looking forward to the amazing sex, but I don't want this to come between me and my boyfriend. 6:43 p.m.: Meet Joseph, friend, and one of friend's random girlfriends for drinks in Chelsea. Horniness is running rampant. Joseph and I make out a lot.

By Arianne Cohen

The Self-Servicing Waiter

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Self-Servicing Waiter: 25, male, Long Island City, gay, live-in boyfriend. DAY ONE 10 a.m.: Wake up horny after disturbing threesome dream with Tori Spelling and her semi-hot man. Walk naked to kitchen. Hope neighbors don't mind that we sleep in the buff. Take my daily herbal antidepressant, which I refer to as my "happy pill." 2:20 p.m.: While working on an article from home, my mind wanders to last night's activities. He's a white boy with a swimmer's build and a southern charm. I'm a Hispanic-American with a penchant for tattoos and stylish clothes. We're hot together. Erection. 3 p.m.: Xtube surfing for the last 40 minutes. Finally decide on military men with tattoos.

By Arianne Cohen

The Saucy Bridezilla

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Saucy Bridezilla: 26, female, East Village, straight, and newly engaged! DAY ONE 7:04 a.m.: Wake with a southern tingle. Still a hot mess over fiancé's surprise proposal two weeks earlier (culminating from two and a half years of togetherness and my father's behind-closed-doors declaration that I am no longer a "spring chicken.”) Don't want to rouse him earlier than his alarm. Peck his pecker and start the day. 3:24 p.m.: Search the Web for "win free wedding" contests during downtime at work. Seeing photos of happy couples gives me that super-special feeling. Eager for the 6 p.m. whistle. 6:58 p.m.: Consider buying my first porn. I’m a married woman now. After researching on the Internet, find out that talk is cheap but Tease Before the Please ($39.99) is not.

By Arianne Cohen

The Sexed-Up Comedian With a Boss Crush

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Sexed-Up Comedian With a Boss Crush: 26, female, Upper West Side, bisexual, in a relationship. DAY ONE 6 a.m.: Awaken to sensation of boyfriend's boner pushed against my ass. Not sure if I'm in the mood. Decide to fuck him in an effort to find out. 6:15 a.m.: About to come, and then dog bursts into room and licks my face. Ironic, as we're doing it doggy style. Incapable of coming with dog staring at me. Boyfriend comes anyway. Perv. 10 a.m.: Lady-boss tells me that I did a great job on the last project. She's younger and hotter than I am. I contemplate ramifications of making out with her at the Christmas party in two months. If both my boyfriend and the CEO were watching, would it still be cheating/gross professional misconduct? Noon: Lady-boss tells me I really need to speed things up on the next project. Hate criticism. Hate lady-boss. No office-party make-out for her.

By Arianne Cohen

The Daddyhunt Dilettante

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Daddyhunt Dilettante: 24, male, writer and graduate student, East Village, gay and unattached.
DAY ONE
9 a.m.: I see my straight Israeli neighbor in the hallway. He's cranky and a tad rude, which makes me want him even more.
3:30 p.m.: My boss IMs me and wants me to come to her office. I have an erection, so I bring a legal pad with me. She immediately tells me she just wants to chat and I don't need a pad. Little does she know…
6 p.m.: I meet a friend who's visiting the city for dinner. He's with a bunch of guys. What a disappointment: None of them are hot; one is beyond annoying.
10 p.m.: We go out for drinks after dinner. One of the guys' boyfriends meets us there. I flirt with him.
11:45 p.m.: I go home and masturbate to a shirtless Marlon Brando.

By Arianne Cohen

The Titillating Temp Worker

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Titillating Temp Worker: 23, female, Williamsburg, journalist, bisexual, single. DAY ONE 9:40 a.m.: I wake up clutching my flimsy pillow as if it is a real person. In the two months I've been single, I'm beginning to prefer polyurethane to the pricks I've been sharing my bed with lately. 6:25 p.m.: I'm thinking about calling this guy I met last week for a date, but do I really want to go out with someone who has dreadlocks? I don't do anything. 7:32 p.m.: I make sure my bra and underwear match and I'm wearing my favorite Star Wars T-shirt. In other words, I'm feeling lucky tonight … or at least like getting lucky. 9:48 p.m.: My random night leads to hanging out in the hotel room of some band that has a VH1 reality show. I was expecting cocktails and feather boas on the floor. Instead, I get stoners watching HBO.

By Arianne Cohen

The Sexually Adventurous Brooklyn Dad

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Sexually Adventurous Brooklyn Dad: 36, Clinton Hill, editor, married with two children. DAY ONE 7 a.m.: Fondle Wifey's boobs in bed, pleasantly suprised she doesn't slap my hand away. I've got morning wood but we have a day trip planned. Much to do. 7:45 p.m.: Back home. Couldn't pitch a tent if I wanted to. Looking at all the haggard, fat people in the I-87 rest stops may have damaged my hormones. 7:55 p.m.: Wifey gives me soliloquy about how old (not) and fat (not) she is, asks me if I want to have sex. I say yes. She says, "Pretend I'm a cougar and you're 20 years old."

By Arianne Cohen

The Fat-No-Longer Woman on the Prowl

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Fat-No-Longer Woman on the Prowl: 39, Upper East Side, interior designer, straight and single. Day One 12:40 p.m.: Dressed like a homeless person on my trip to get a coffee, I get a smile from a construction worker and a hello from someone who looks like a serial killer. After a decade-long “dating hiatus” due to being obese, followed by 70-pound weight loss, my initial goal was “consecutive dates with a non-weirdo.” I’ve recently revised that policy. Looks are mandatory. 12:50 p.m.: Returning to my building, see that my pervy mailman is in there. Per my usual, I circle the block to avoid him. 2:45 p.m.: Online research of the Cone, a vibrator I am curious about. It’s out of my price range for items such as this, so I earmark funds for other things to help meet a real person with whom to have actual sex: push-up bra, heels.

By Arianne Cohen

The Randy Sonic Toothbrush User

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the randy Italian waiter: male, 33, East Village, straight in a yearlong relationship. DAY ONE 7:45 a.m.: My girlfriend wakes me up. The alarm never went off; we are both incredibly late for work. I still have the presence of mind to reach out and give a lil' titty squeeze. She's a Columbia student who just turned 21 and may be the only person on the planet who digs drinking and fucking more than I do. 8:30 a.m.: On the subway. A gaggle of giggling, jiggling, Catholic schoolgirls gallop by. I remind myself that I am not a pedophile.

By Arianne Cohen