sex diaries

The Bed-Hopping, Creatively Frustrated Assistant

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week: The Bed-Hopping, Creatively Frustrated Assistant: 26 years old, female, single, Gramercy, straight.

7:25 a.m.: Wake up to the blaring alarm clock, same time every day. Snooze 25 minutes. Remind myself it’s payday.
8:45 a.m.: Office, coffee, sign on to my Gchat and see if my current steady hookup is online. “Steady” always talks me through the day, all day, every day. He is so safe — the kind of guy you want to settle down with.
10:15 a.m.: I am temping for a woman, forced to stare at pictures of her 5-year-old daughter, sonograms of her twin babies in her womb, and postcards of Jesus. When hot guys walk by my desk I don’t stand a chance.
12:40 p.m.: Steady asks me for drinks after work and I accept.
1:14 p.m.: Get a text from a model I have been hooking up with, asking about my weekend plans. He is so hot, but has nothing going on in the brains dept. I leave it open-ended.

4:34 p.m.: Exchange chats with my co-worker who sits a couple cubes away. We have constant sexual stories to exchange in which we use code language so as to not get caught.
5:30 p.m.: Meet up with Steady at the dirtiest bar in midtown. There is karaoke, a toothless man screaming in my ear, and a drunken Brit getting in my face and demanding “high fives.” I feel very out of place.
6:20 p.m.: Continually flirt with Steady. He is much cuter every time I see him. I decide tomorrow will be the first time we have sex. After pursuing me for seven weeks or so (and me agreeing to go out with him after four), he has earned it.
7:35 p.m.: Kiss Steady for a bit outside my building and tell him that I will see him the next day for a friend’s birthday party. I can’t wait to sleep with him.
9:13 p.m.: Have dinner downtown with one of my girlfriends, get totally hammered on a bottle of red wine, and decide to call it an early night.
11 p.m.: Fall asleep in my bed drunk and happy. Still thinking about Steady sex. Too tired to do anything about it.
11:23 p.m.: Get a text from a lawyer, “the Face,” saying “What are you up to?” Too tired to respond.

9:37 a.m.: Still thinking about Steady sex tonight.
12:15 p.m.: Get texts from Steady asking me to come to Brooklyn, as he is naked in bed. Tempting, but I tell him that I will see him tonight and he will have to be a little more patient.
1:33 p.m.:Watching Julie & Julia. Food and sex are my two favorite things in the world.
5:50 p.m.: Take an amazingly long shower and get fully prepared for sex night with Steady. Perfectly smooth, smelling good, and groomed.
8:30 p.m.: Friend’s dinner at Hill Country. Dread the idea of eating barbecue before a big night out. Attempt to drink most of my dinner.
9:46 p.m.: Get a text from Steady telling me that he is throwing up and not feeling well. Won’t make it out tonight. Cold or cold feet?
9:47 p.m.: Get extremely angry, disappointed, and decide I am going to be immature and act out tonight.
9:48 p.m.: Text the model and the Face to see what they are doing. The Face doesn’t respond and model has an early-morning shoot.
11:45 p.m.: Arrive at birthday party, continue the boozing.
11:46 p.m.: Handsome guy walks across the room to say hello to me. He is an actor/writer and totally my physical type. We talk about going to another bar to dance and leave with my friends.
2:15 a.m.: At the next bar dancing when actor/writer tells me he wants to take me home, and we hop into a cab to his place. He tells me he is 22 and I don’t change my mind.
4:30 a.m.: Making out with actor/writer in his tiny, dirty BOY room, getting tired, and deny him sex.
4:35 a.m.: He tells me his head is not in it and “let’s not make a big deal about it.” He goes flaccid, I am half-naked, throw on my clothes, and bolt as fast as possible. I can go back to my comfortable, clean bed.

9:15 a.m.: Wake up after four hours to texts from Steady asking about last night. I say it was fun and ask him how he is feeling. All I want to do is see him.
11 a.m.: Suggest to Steady we snuggle and hang out, only to get denied. Beginning to think he may not be sick after all.
11:23 a.m.: Bitch about it to my roommate, feel gross, she tells me to shower immediately. I do.
2:20 p.m.: Friends and I eat our body weight in bread and chocolate spread at Le Pain Quotidian and then decide we need to go play with the puppies down the street. West Village makes you want either a puppy or a baby.
6:25 p.m.: Gossip session with friend about last night and Steady. Friend’s boyfriend walks into the coffee shop wasted from spending the day at a beer garden downtown. He tells me that I am going to the opera with a co-worker of his at his hedge fund. They have been dying to set me up with someone who has a real job, so I agree.
9:34 p.m.: Relaxing at home, I get excited about my new prospect. I fantasize about naughty things to do at the opera.

7:25 a.m.: I hate my job. Must continue applying for creative jobs.
9:10 a.m.: Gchat. Steady seems aloof and less interested. There is a total role reversal occurring and I am not pleased with this.
8:47 p.m.: Video Gchat from my musician/artist hookup. He sees me, tells me I look amazing, and wants me to come over immediately.
10:10 p.m.: Arrive to musician’s apartment in Brooklyn and have the most passionate sex to beautiful music. He looks at me like he loves me.
10:34 p.m.: He is unable to get off with a condom so I go down on him. It seems to be taking forever, but I power through.
12:20 a.m.: Answer questions from musician about whom I am hooking up with at the moment. Artists are so insecure, so I tell him no one. He doesn’t believe me.
12:50 a.m.: Snuggling, kissing, sleep. I love this moment, but memories of his stories about “intimate” golden showers and threesomes begin to uncloud my poor judgment.

6:55 a.m.: Wake up with the musician, commute from Brooklyn. Sacrifices.
8:30 a.m.: E-mail from musician with new song attached. Sweet, but he likely just wants positive feedback. Self-involved artists.
9:43 a.m.: Gchat Steady suggestion of meeting up tonight. He tells me he has dinner plans. He is definitely blowing me off, and I wonder what happened.
8:58 p.m.: Get a text from the model asking me if I want him to wake me up later tonight when he is done with his photo shoot. I say yes, because all we will have time for is sex. I love to tangle myself in his body.
2:26 a.m.: Model texts that he is still working and that he will have to take a rain check. I don’t respond since I can’t tell if I am awake or dreaming.

1:17 p.m.: Steady’s Gchat icon is green, and he hasn’t said hello to me. This makes me sad again. I obsess for a little bit with images of him having sex with other girls.
3:35 p.m.: Musician texts about his new music on iTunes, and that I should help support the cause. Typical, and I don’t respond.
11:05 p.m.: Show up at a bar with a group of friends and dance with them and random guys. Start to sweat, but feel really good.
12:36 p.m.: Dancing with a stranger who calls me “sexy and dangerous,” and I like it. Turn around to find my friend sitting in a corner booth and smoking a blunt with the D.J. and bar owner. This night is turning out to be more interesting than I expected.
2:17 a.m.: Go home drunk and happy.

12:30 p.m.: Head to Rockefeller Center to enjoy the sunshine and lunch with my co-worker. She is the only normal person in my office who is fun and enjoys talking about sex.
4:43 p.m.: Sign off my Gchat and realize still no contact from Steady.
9:35 p.m.: Halfway through dinner with sister and friends and sufficiently drunk, we decide that we are going to head to the Box.
10:53 p.m.: Get a text from Steady telling me his brothers are in town and he wants me to meet up with them at a bar. I tell him I can’t, but let’s catch up next week. I may have spoken too soon about him losing interest.
12:45 a.m.: Flirting and mildly kissing with a Brit visiting from out of town.
3:17 a.m.: Get a text from the Face asking me if I would come over. I am already at home and I decide I could walk the four blocks.
3:45 a.m.: The Face’s face is in between my legs and he isn’t as good as he was the last time. I am starting to get bored and suggest we sleep together. We have great sex with me on top staring directly into a mirror facing his bed. He would have that, as he is so vain.
5:30 a.m.: Pillow-talking with the Face. He has some good qualities, a hot body, an adorable dog, and the best bed I have ever slept in. I fall asleep with his arm around me and don’t regret a thing.

TOTALS: One act of fellatio; one act of cunnilingus; two acts of intercourse with two partners; one makeout session with crush; text flirtations with five men.

The Bed-Hopping, Creatively Frustrated Assistant