sex diaries

The Gay Performance Artist Celebrating Pride Weekend

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Gay Performance Artist Celebrating Pride Weekend: male, self-employed performing artist, Chelsea, 25, gay, single.

3 a.m.: Text friend crush and ask him to marry me, as a joke, since New York marriage-equality bill passed tonight. He responds saying he just married his bed. Lame. Everyone online is talking about getting married to their partners. I am genuinely happy for them, but at the same time I feel a bit lonely. I am definitely not drunk enough right now.

3:15 a.m.: A little buzzed but decide to jerk off anyway. Watch a hot solo vid of a big muscular black guy jerking off online but end up fantasizing about riding friend crush till he blows. I follow shortly after. Pass out.
12 p.m.: Wake up and realize I definitely overslept. Groggy, but morning wood won’t go away, so I jerk off quickly and hop in the shower before
getting ready to meet D for a coffee date.
2 p.m.: Eighth Avenue is packed with gays. It’s Pride weekend and I’m getting cruised left and right. Momentarily wish I had taken my friend up on getting out of town to the beach, but I have a gig tomorrow, so no dice.
3 p.m.: Sitting in a park in Gramercy with D, talking about the sex diaries and the idea of sharing sexual experiences. He reads one to me off his iPhone.
3:40 p.m.: Run into ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend and exchange awkward hellos. He says we should catch up soon. I say okay. Drop D off at Union Square train as he has to go to work.
3:45 p.m.: Hunky muscle daddy type growls at me while walking up Seventh Avenue. Sexy. I smile and keep walking.
4:15 p.m.: Receive e-mail from hot Italian guy who I definitely am into physically, but I know for a fact he has bareback sex. Ignore e-mail. Consider going to gym but instead decide to simultaneously cruise and get groceries done at Whole Foods. Guaranteed to be hottie central.
5 p.m.: Create Daddyhunt profile.
5:15 p.m.: Text from D saying he enjoyed our coffee date. I don’t know if we are compatible beyond friendship, but that’s okay.
5:30 p.m.: Talking with hot friend who I have a crush on. We flirt a lot, but he has an open relationship long distance with his husband in Israel. He’s all amped to go out to Pride events. I shut him down and tell him to have fun, so not my scene. When will I find a hot man that’s into the same stuff I’m into? I never get laid on holidays like Pride.
8:30 p.m.: Text from Australian guy I dated, who I ran into at the bar last night, saying was good to see me. I don’t respond. He’s boyfriend material. Just not for me.
10:30 p.m.: Go for night run on West Side Highway to relieve some stress. Come home sweaty and delete Daddyhunt profile after seeing an inbox full of messages from trolls. There are no hot guys on Daddyhunt? Need a shower.
2:30 a.m.: Receive Facebook message from the guy I lost my virginity to when I was 16 saying “I miss you.” Geez. Pass out shortly after.

12:25 p.m.: Wake up to text from older guy I hook up with occasionally. He gives amazing blow jobs. He’s in an open relationship. “Happy Pride!” He’s in L.A. right now on business. I respond: “Looking forward to seeing you when you return.”
12:45 p.m.: Text from another older guy I met back in April. He’s closeted and married with kids and lives in L.A. but is planning on visiting me in July. We haven’t had sex, but we did fool around via cam once. He’s very much a man’s man, and it turns me on.
1:25 p.m.: Streets are filled with gays. Walking past Chelsea Hotel where I lived with the ex, I remember years of hot uncomplicated sex. Mind flashes to me fucking him as I look up at the building. He looked like Joey Stefano. It didn’t end well. I was spoiled quickly at a very young age when it comes to sex. Men all seem so complicated now.
1:35 p.m.: Cute straight couple next to me in line for bagels. She slaps his ass, and I momentarily have the urge to slap it as well. It’s right there and it is a great ass.
2:30 p.m.: Make tentative plans to have snuggle date with a superhot photographer guy I met awhile ago who’s away till tomorrow on business.
I’m such a lesbian, but I can’t help it — I love snuggling. Very underrated. I tell him he should be little spoon, but he insists he likes big spoon. I tell him he can have it his way for sure.
5 p.m.: Talking with a friend online who tells me the reason I don’t get hit on by guys in public is because I’m intimidating. I hear this a lot. I need a guy who is confidant enough to not care if I am intimidating. I’m actually rather shy and hardly ever make the first move. I try to break out of my shyness, but it always seems forced. Also, I don’t find myself interested in tiptoeing around people’s feelings. If I’m into you and you’re into me, what’s the problem? Somehow that always finds a way to be the problem.
5:10 p.m.: I’ll be out working late tonight. The chances of me getting laid are very slim. I remove myself socially to an extent usually when I’m “on.” I don’t like to be distracted.
6 p.m.: Am incredibly horny, my book is not providing sufficient distraction. Know I’m gonna be a mess tonight if I don’t jerk off. Lay down for a disco nap and end up watching hot straight porn of a man and wife having sex. Their chemistry is undeniably real. I love straight porn. Mission accomplished.

4 p.m.: Hot supermodel guy messages me asking if I want to hook up tonight. He’s gorgeous, and you’d probably recognize him and be shocked to find out not only that he likes guys but that he’s not my type at all. He’s been trying to get in my pants for over a year now, but I tend to like unconventionally attractive men, rugged and manly. This guy is the epitome of “pretty boy hunk.” Ignore message and continue working.
5:15 p.m.: Exchange quick messages with early-forties firefighter/Marine dude who is more my speed. He’s the type that makes my stomach drop a little when I think about doing dirty things to him. He seems smart, though, so I’ll see where it goes. Maybe later in the week, as my schedule is filling up quickly. Damn you, Priorities!
7 p.m.: Find out Firefighter is partnered but likes to play outside of it. Not sure how I feel about this information. I don’t have time to think about Firefighter right now. I have a string of meetings tonight, and I’m feeling exhausted already.

12:50 a.m.: Finally home and still in work mode. Gonna hop in bed and lust over the hotter-than-hot cast of True Blood. This is my life. Jerk off quickly before passing out. Can’t help it. I have a relationship of convenience with my cock.
12:15 p.m.: I really should stop looking at my in-box before I’ve even had my coffee yet. It sets a tone for the day that it is usually all work and no play. Ignore the morning wood and hop in the shower. I’m stressed about the projects I have going on right now, but looking forward to a dinner party on Sutton Place at the home of a couple who I’m friends with tonight. I love flirting with the two of them, and they enjoy doing it as well. It’s all innocent and fun, but I admire them as an archetypal couple.
3:45 p.m.: Decide to take the rest of the day off. I need a fresh shave and to relax before tonight. I write for a bit, decide to write a suicide note, just for fun. It’s cathartic. I don’t think I would want to die having sex. That would be awkward.
6 p.m.: Getting ready for dinner and listening to Rollins Band. I’m horny and decide to jerk off before I leave. I want Henry Rollins to fuck me up any way he likes. And then fuck me. And repeat.
10 p.m.: Dinner with friends was just what I needed to relax. Dinner was delicious, and I had a nice amount of red wine. Such lovely guys. Talking about how they’ve been together for eighteen years was inspiring. I left my BlackBerry on silent in a sitting room off the bathroom. No disturbances.
2 a.m.: Talking with a girlfriend I’ve known since college who lives in L.A. We discuss average depth of a vagina, double and triple penetration, average length of a penis, her boy toy in Milan, our favorite celebrity crushes. Discuss why we’re both hot and in our twenties and single and sexless. Say goodnight and jerk off to straight porn (again) before passing out.

4:35 p.m.: Been running around taking care of business. Sex is the last thing on my agenda. Head out to meet my ex J for a catch-up before I go to my gig tonight.
7 p.m.: Have a nice quick dinner with J (he eats, I have a Diet Coke and croissant; I don’t like to eat full meals before gigs) and catch up. He suggests I change my approach toward dating to be more successful at it. We both agree I am both busy and keep a strange schedule, on top of many other reasons why I don’t have much of a dating/sex life these days. He’s in his thirties and having way more sex than I am. Jealous!

2:30 p.m.: In between work e-mails chatting with J online about how guys lie about their HIV status or try to hide it. Scary stuff. I tell him it’s enough to put me off having sex. Oh wait, I’m already not having sex.
2:45 p.m.: Texting with a guy who I had forgotten I had in my phone who I used to hook up with a few years ago. He’s a hunky suit. I do enjoy a man who pulls off a suit the way he does. Very Clark Kent. I remember him lounging in his living room in nothing but a pair of white CK briefs and thinking he looked like he stepped out of an ad for the underwear. I wonder if we still would have chemistry now. I get a bit aroused by the mental image. He says we should catch up soon.
4:05 p.m.: I jerk off quickly, only to reach over to see CK Dude messaged back saying he is traveling till mid July but we should meet up when he gets back.
9 p.m.: At the first of my two gigs, at a very posh venue surrounded by very handsome straight men in suits. The girls hanging on them seem to be so disinterested. That’s the thing about girls that bugs me sometimes — they don’t recognize the beauty of what they have right in front of them, the perfect physical male specimen. What’s your damage? I smile to myself and thank the gods I was born gay.

1 p.m.: Late night last night, still tired from back-to-back gigs. Woke up with an intense erection about an hour ago, and it still won’t go away. Last I heard, it was screaming to me to stick it somewhere. I have been neglecting myself, I know. Maybe I will get laid tonight?
3:30 p.m.: Have meetings this afternoon/evening but made a plan to meet up with a hookup buddy of mine tonight, the one who gives really good blowjobs. Maybe this week won’t be completely sexless! Here’s hoping.
10 p.m.: Head over to hook up with B. He greets me at the door with a kiss, and we chat for a while before we head for the bedroom. Kissing and groping turns into pants on the floor and him blowing me. Lie on the bed and he goes down on me again, I’m loving it. I tell him I want him to sit on it. He obliges and he rides me for a bit. He jerks off while blowing me again. Then he jerks off while I massage his feet. He says it feels amazing. I switch to playing with his nipples, which he loves, and then lay him out on his back with his head hanging off the edge of the bed. He goes back to blowing me and he finishes, and then I do.
11:30 p.m.: I head home, in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms.

TOTALS: One deep-throat blow job received; eight acts of masturbation; one marriage request denied; one suicide note written; one dating-site profile created and deleted; two fantasy bottoming experiences about crushes, one being Henry Rollins; one discussion about double and triple penetration; one supermodel denied sex; one growl from muscle bear on the street; one e-mail from guy I lost my virginity to.

The Gay Performance Artist Celebrating Pride Weekend