The New Dad Who Gets a Happy Ending in K-Town

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New York’s “Sex Diaries” series asks anonymous city dwellers to record a week in their sex lives — with comic, tragic, often sexy, and always revealing results. This week, a 38-year old lawyer who outsources his orgasm: straight, married, Murray Hill.

DAY ONE

6:45 a.m. My alarm goes off. My wife has been up with our daughter since 5 a.m. so I shouldn’t complain.

7:00 a.m. I rub one out in the shower. I think of my wife’s best friend, Lisa. Lisa just so happens to be getting divorced.

8:20 a.m. I think about fucking every above-average woman I see on the subway. I’ve been with my wife for six years and have never strayed, but on some days, sex with other women is all I think about. I assume this is what it means to be married. I commend myself for never acting on my fantasies.

3:00 p.m. Someone I don’t want to fuck? My boss at the law firm. She’s kind of a beast. And I can say that without feeling misogynistic because she’s as ugly on the inside as she is on the outside.

7:00 p.m. I come home to a sleeping baby and my wife half-dead on the couch. Our daughter is 6 months old and we have only made love ONCE since she was born. I’m not alarmed by this, but my penis might be.

9:00 p.m. Wife and I watch a few episodes of Catastrophe. “So us!” we say, like every other overworked, undersexed Amazon subscriber of the land.

10:30 p.m. Sleepytime.

DAY TWO

7:00 a.m. Daily morning jerk off. Does my wife know? She must. I always let out the slightest of grunts at the end. So efficient, the morning jerk. Clean, tidy, lubricated. I am still picturing Lisa. Doggy style. Groping her tits, which I know are fake, because my wife told me the whole story.

Noon Wife sends me a selfie of them at some song-singing class. Cute. Wife is pretty. We have to get back on track sexually. One of us has to make the effort and I guess that’s going to be me.

7:00 p.m. I come home. Baby asleep. Wife looks like a “Mombie” (i.e. mom-zombie … it’s from Catastrophe). I say to wife over a dinner of … a turkey sandwich and chips, “We need to start having sex again.” Wife says, “Definitely. Starting next month.” I say, non-aggressively, “How about starting tonight?” Wife looks at me as if I’ve suggested going on a Zika cruise.

10:00 p.m. Lights out.

DAY THREE

9:00 a.m. I have a brilliant idea. A happy ending. I went once in the past and wonder if that location is still around.

10:00 a.m. I text my buddy, also married, also who went with me the time before, if he wants to “hit up happy-happy K-town.” He writes back with a “thumbs up” emoji (or emoticon — what is the difference?) before I hit send. He says, “Tmr night.”

3:00 p.m. I am practically skipping through the law firm I’m so excited. I don’t feel guilty or like I need to tell my wife. My wife wouldn’t care about the happy ending anyway. Okay, she might care that I’m leaving her at home with our fussy baby while getting masturbated, for a full hour, but … eh! We have 24 hours to plot.

4:00 p.m. I make my buddy research where to go online, since he does not work for a stuffy law firm. We can’t remember the exact address of the last one we went to, so we start from scratch. Apparently if you search erotic massage you can find this shit on Yelp, but again, I’m too big of a pussy to even do the search myself.

7:00 p.m. Baby is asleep, wife is dead on the couch, and I just want to crash and wake up tomorrow!!!

DAY FOUR

9:00 a.m. All you have to know about today is that my Buddy bails and my heart is broken.

9:00 p.m. Buddy promises we can go tomorrow. Hope lives!

DAY FIVE

7:00 a.m. I tell my wife that I’m meeting Buddy about work for dinner. None of this is a lie. It’s just that dinner will be a slice of pizza on the way home from our sexcapades.

Noon No idea what happens at work today.

5:30 p.m. I skip out early, as does my buddy. He wants to meet for dinner first in Koreatown. I think this is bullshit. I’m too excited to eat and who wants to smell like Korean BBQ  for an “erotic massage”? So he eats something and I nurse a beer.

6:30 p.m. The exterior of building is not just unremarkable; it’s an extreme shit hole. I worry the place will have rats running around and suddenly want to go home to my wife and our Ikea furniture. However, Buddy and I promised we’d treat it like a normal massage and not psych ourselves up or out of anything.

6:45 p.m. The “spa” is actually fancy-ish on the inside. We are each escorted to our massage pods by women of Asian descent. I can’t look at Buddy. My girl says her name is Nancy. I ask if that’s her real name and she giggles. I think Nancy doesn’t speak a lick of English, which puts me at ease.

7:45 p.m. The massage is actually phenomenal. So far, no hints of eroticism and I’m somewhat relieved. And then she turns me over.

7:46 p.m. Buddy said the code word had something to with “washcloth.” So when she says, “You want washcloth?” I nervously say, “Yes.”  A moment later, she is fondling my non-erect penis with lubed up hands. I am too afraid to open my eyes, but her technique is great and within a minute (seriously) I come. And there you have the washcloth.

8:00 p.m. I had pre-paid ($100 cash for the “full massage”). So I get dressed and get out of there. The woman at reception says I owe another $50 dollars — which I do not blink at. I pay and bolt. I don’t even wait for Buddy. Buddy doesn’t have a baby at home so who knows how long he’ll linger.

9:30 p.m. When I get home to wife, I confess. I’m telling you, I have a very cool wife. She initially laughs her ass off. Then she wants every detail …

10:30 p.m. I’ve told my wife everything over some wine and she is having a real hoot over it all. I’m glad I said something. The first thing she did was make me take a long, scrub-heavy shower; she also told me to throw my sweatshirt away and put the rest of my clothes in the washing machine pronto. Fair enough.

DAY SIX

7:00 a.m. Believe it or not, I still rub one out in the shower. I do not think of Nancy of the Happy Ending. I think of Carrie Underwood, who my wife made me watch on some American Idol reunion. It’s the weekend, so I spend the rest of the day playing with my baby girl.

9:00 a.m. Believe it or not, I still want to fuck every decent-looking woman I see on the playground

7:00 p.m. Believe it or not, my wife still has no desire to sleep with me, even though she knows the extent of my horniness — and she basically had the day off to rest.

DAY SEVEN

5:45 p.m. I wake up with my baby girl this morning. We have a great time father-daughter bonding.

8:00 a.m. When I put her down for her morning nap, I crawl back into bed with my wife, and guess what …. we have morning sex!!!!!

8:30 a.m. It doesn’t last long, but it’s hot and intense. She rides me like a maniac until she comes. I’m happy she came. She needed it.

3:00 p.m. We have a great family day

6:oo p.m. The baby is in bed, so we finish up Catastrophe. My wife jokes, not for the first time, that she hopes it has a “happy ending.” I love my wife.

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