Once a week, Daily Intel looks behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Mother Just Looking for Some TLC: 31, female, Astoria, straight, married.
6 a.m.: Startled awake by a banging noise from our 1-year-old son’s room. Found him furiously spanking his monkey. His toy monkey, that is. Gave him a stern talking-to. Return to bed. Too beat for a morning quickie.
10 a.m.: Aah, Saturday. So nice to sleep late. But even rest doesn’t stop me being all hot and bothered! Where’s that husband of mine? Gone already.
2 p.m.: Good to know the key to your man’s heart … pork chops. Well tenderized. He was aglow with enjoyment long after he finished.
9 p.m.: Watched some TV. I enjoy keeping hubby company, even if I personally think I am much more well rounded.
10 p.m.: Tried to take matters into my own hands by putting on … Adult Swim. How was I supposed to know these were cartoons, not porn?
9 a.m.: Woke up needing some TLC under my pajamas. Gave myself a generous rub-down. Masha likes that.
9:30 a.m.: Where’s my husband when I could use a hand or two? He sneaked out early to his shop, I bet. Wouldn’t be the first time. What can I say, he really lurves his wood. You should look at our dinner table.
Noon: Husband came back, showing off his work, as if I care. Not going to speak to him till he apologizes. Sex, ha! What sex?
5 p.m.: Joined the hubby for his reading session. I missed this so much the whole week. Just this sense of calm, completeness. We can be quiet together, lights dim, wearing tees and jeans, and still it feels as if we had gone to Per Se.
9 p.m.: Monday’s coming — waking up bright and early tomorrow, so after some very good necking, have to put our libidos on hold for tonight.
8 a.m.: Woke up all hot and bothered, AGAIN! Could use a cold shower or no telling what will come about!
9 a.m.: Broke down, and took some precious minutes to stroke myself before heading off to work.
Noon: Eating lunch in the cafeteria of my publicity job, wondering about sex lives of historical figures. A strangely arousing topic. Did they have it more often than we? Would have to, just look at Lincoln’s brood. And, um, Jefferson’s.
7:30 p.m.: Came home a bit late to catch my husband there already, practicing his lines for amateur theater. I am sure he will rock the premiere. Hectic schedule or no, I will be there front and center. He would have been for me.
8 a.m.: Hot and bothered? You guessed it. I consider the situation. Nope, can’t go on like this, my husband is just going to have to clean my pipes in the very near future. He’s really good with his hands too.
6 p.m.: Barely made it home before the rain started pouring in earnest … but I was already wet. Glad my husband was home already! Made dinner. He says it’s better than his mother’s. There IS something to that married life. Seriously, sex isn’t its end-all be-all. But it’s a helluva part.
8 p.m.: Decided to check in early tonight, for some much-needed together time. Didn’t happen — cattus interruptus.
6:30 a.m.: Woke up to a cruel, cruel, early alarm clock.
7:30 a.m.: Riding the bus to work today — husband got the car. Rubbing against random people — or were they rubbing against me? What’s their story?
10 a.m.: Coordinating over the phone with my husband about his grocery shopping trip. Big day today, relatives coming over for our son’s birthday.
2 p.m.: On the way home. Listening to tunes, thinking about how rock stars get their rocks off. Lucky SOBs. But then, which one of them has a birthday boy as awesome as ours? No, hubby and I are the lucky ones!
4 p.m.: The whole mishpucha arrives and birthday boy is gifted up and down. Thank you, Uncle! Can you please do the laundry for me?
11 p.m.: Everybody finally leaves. Boy, are we beat! But not too beat to put off getting wet together by the kitchen sink. God, what a ton of dishes!
8 a.m.: A cold shower later brought me back down to earth and ready to deal with the day … if only temporarily.
Noon: Ogled a co-worker by the vending machine, and had to resist fantasizing about how many licks it would take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of his Tootsie Pop. Man, that cold shower wears off fast. So did a talking-to from my Jenny Craig consultant.
4 p.m.: Hooray! Home early today. Can’t wait for my husband to get home. I bet he’s just about ready to burst.
4:30 p.m.: Still waiting! Did some stroking to help calm me down.
5 p.m.: Finally, hubby walks in from the rain. Barely began, when cattus interruptus strikes again.
5:30 p.m.: Finally! He is such a great lover, no wonder I tolerate his amateur-actor thing. Well, that and his cooking, and his sense of humor, and his laughter, and his willingness to clean up after my kitty, and his way of getting our son to swallow an extra spoon of applesauce, and well … you get the point.
7 p.m.: Wouldn’t mind another go. But beggars can’t be choosers.
7 a.m.: Telecommuting today!
7:45 a.m.: Husband is up early today, reciting lines. His big day is coming soon.
8:10 a.m.: Got a call. Have to go to work, anyway!
8:45 a.m.: Handed off my 1-year-old son to the grandparents, favorite toy monkey in tow. He continues spanking it — it’s getting to be a cruel little habit.
8 p.m.: Fixed my husband some more of his favorite creamed corn and sausage. Tenderized some meat patties for burgers too. Look at me, who knew I would turn into such an exemplary wife?
10 p.m.: Finally have some real one-on-one time with my husband. No cattus interruptus this time — kittycat locked out of the bedroom tonight. We finally get to enjoy a wonderful and romantic time together.
TOTALS: Three acts of masturbation; one act of making out; two acts of intercourse; numerous acts of nonsexual culinary foreplay.