Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the, um, Interactive Producer in a Workplace Affair: 27, female, Lower East Side, straight, married.
DAY ONE
1:07 a.m.: Lie in bed with pseudo boyfriend. Afterglow. What started off as a very close work friendship with an almost sweet sexual tension has turned into a full-blown affair.
1:15 a.m.: We kiss a lot like they’re our last kisses, because “spring break,” as we’ve been referring to the month that my husband has been away, is nearly over. We keep talking about a winding-down period — though it’s not likely. We’ll have to start fucking at work. For what it’s worth, I’ve been “faithful” to Pseudo.
8:31 a.m.: I wake up wrapped in him. He pulls down the duvet to reveal his perfectly stiff cock. I pet his ridiculously soft head. Jump out of bed to shower — I’m not a big fan of weekday morning sex, as it overlaps with necessary sleep time.
8:34 a.m.: Texts from my husband, who’s in Europe. Pangs of guilt? Not really. We’ve been married for just over a year, but coupled for seven. I have been unfaithful with several men since shortly after we wed. I think it’s a reaction to being married so early on: I feel caged and want to make good with the looks I have going for me while they’re still attractive.
12:34 p.m.: Inhale a burger, chased with a coke at Walkers in Tribeca. Sickness but deliciousness. Text Pseudo to see if his meeting is over. He mentioned an escape plan to his apartment this afternoon, and I want to make up for my lack of love of morning sex.
12:34 p.m.: My short, white linen shorts yield head turns.
12:44 p.m.: Pseudo texts to let me know he’s drinking avec work people post meeting. No kisses on his bed/couch/against the fridge for me.
2:08 p.m.: Phone call with my husband about my small vacation to Paris next month. He asks if I’m really going alone. Oh, bless his intuition.
9:22 p.m.: At a Mexican restaurant patio with Pseudo and his friend, who looks like Vincent Gallo). Two Scotches later (who drinks Scotch at a Mexican restaurant?), and Pseudo and I are touching a lot under the table.
DAY TWO
12:58 a.m.: We both bike back to his apartment in Chelsea where we fuck, a touch sloppily. He always lets me come first. I do, then him, then sleep.
8:14 a.m.: Pseudo leaves to go on a small adventure outside the city — leaves me his keys. I think it turns him on to leave them with me. We’ll see each other later to watch some playoff basketball.
11:51 a.m.: I shower, dress (in some clothes I had left here during the week — no ride of shame necessary), and leave to meet a friend at Freemans for brunch.
2:41 p.m.: Finish what ends up being a late lunch (longest wait for meal and bill, as per usual) and hop on my bike to head home.
8:14 p.m.: Out for the evening on my bicycle. A handsomely scruffy man biking behind me comments on my amazingly high-heeled shoes and how they looked to him while I was riding in front of him. Flattered, I graciously accept his love.
10:01 p.m.: At a work-people event to watch some basketball. Pseudo is there. I haven’t seen him since early a.m. and I’m immediately riled up!
11:27 p.m.: He texts me from the seat next to me that the washrooms are large and private.
11:41 p.m.: We fuck against the bathroom wall. He comes. I just make sure I look hot in the shitty light. We both agree that my ass looks hot. No one was the wiser.
1:32 a.m.: Back at his place, we fuck from behind, my legs nearly completely in the splits position. We both come — I gush all over his legs.
DAY THREE
11:04 a.m.: I get dressed to leave and bike home. What started off with me wanting to watch him beat off before I leave turns into me undressing to a repeat of last night. We both come. (He really needs to change his sheets.)
DAY FOUR
9:02 a.m.: At the morning coffee place we visit in the a.. I hug Pseudo and tell him good morning, and the couple that owns the store likens their relationship to ours. Ha. He squeezes my right ass cheek. I love a morning ass grab.
5 p.m.: Smoke a joint with my painfully single co-worker. He would make a great, loyal husband, but he’s too hard up.
5:50 p.m.: Husband’s back. Attempted to feel some love, but not really into it owing to the last month of quasi-singledom/other relationship. Now stoned at work, booking “solo” vacation.
8:42 p.m.: TV watching on my couch at home with my husband, I give into a good ol’ fashioned ass lick. He rims me. It’s pretty hot, but I don’t come.
11:23 p.m.: Sneak off to text (nothing special) to Pseudo. Anything excites me, because I miss our constant flurry of fucking.
11:25 p.m.: Very random text from Gallo. Not sure it means anything.
2:32 a.m.: I wonder if I can have sex with Gallo? Is that allowed? Probably not.
3:30 a.m.: Can’t sleep.
4:30 a.m.: Why
5:30 a.m.: Am
6:30 a.m.: I
7:30 a.m.: …Waking up every effing hour on the hour, lying next to my husband? Nervous about my current state of affairs, no doubt. I try to masturbate, but my wrists are weak.
DAY FIVE
11 a.m.: Cement lunch plans with Gallo. Harmful enough.
2:35 p.m.: Funny e-mails back and forth with Pseudo addressed to our IT department, as we’re certain they’re reading all of our out-in-the-open correspondence:
“Hi, IT!I die. I fucking die laughing.
Oh, and for the Spanish contingent …
Ola, IT!
And of course, the Jewish members …
Shalom, IT!”
4:44 p.m.: Inter-office IMs deciding which bathroom is safest for fucking. We’ve regressed to being toilet fuckers.
6:54 p.m.: Since the bathrooms have been consistently occupied today … he comes into my office, locks door, and we kiss hard and deep. He grabs my pussy. I squeeze his cock through his jeans and we pussy out because we might be very loud.
8:32 p.m.: After dinner with my girlfriend, Pseudo and I try to meet up before I bike home. Doesn’t happen.
8:54 p.m.: Husband’s working late, as per usual. Alone at home, Pseudo and I share some calling back and forth on my mobile. After two failed attempts at ending the conversation, I climb into bed with my vibrator and get him jerking off alongside me. We both come at the same time. I catch up on my TiVo and sleep soundly.
DAY SIX
2:50 p.m.: I call him at his desk from the work rec room. No one’s around. He’s down, so we fuck quietly (against the wall) in one of the bathrooms. Nice and hard. My thighs are in the chair position the entire time. Good workout for me, come-in-hand for him. All in all, perfectly and discreetly executed.
DAY SEVEN
7:31 p.m.: In the neighborhood, I bike over to Pseudo’s place and let myself into his building (even though he’s not home yet). Wait for him to come home.
8:32 p.m.: Over some playoff basketball and some great takeout sushi, we fuck really hard on his bed. I come and he unleashes on my back. He’s sweating. So young and eager.
11:58 p.m.: After drinking a lot of beer at a bar with him and his friends, he bikes me halfway home.
Totals: Five acts of intercourse with orgasm with adulterer; two bathroom shags without orgasm; one successful attempt at masturbation through phone sex; one failed attempt at masturbation to cure insomnia owing to limp wrists; one rim from husband; one awkward hug with adulterer’s friend.
