6:50 a.m. Wake up to recall last night: Orgasm in my room with a Barney. (Barney: Man procured from bar for the purpose of detached sexual gratification.)
7:19 a.m. Sixty-second orgasm with massage showerhead.
8:55 a.m. Text from Married Guy, unrequited love of my life with whom I have had an incessantly textual relationship for the past year. We have not yet slept together.
10:15 a.m. Share uncomfortable elevator silence with wedding-banded man with whom I had an extremely hot one-night stand.
10:38 a.m. MG’s texts have become overwhelmingly hot. Today’s contain specific requests regarding an imaginary threesome.
11:05 a.m. Receive phone call from MG, and sneak into vacant office. He would like for one of us to lick the other while he has sex with her.
11:20 a.m. Follow-up call. Informed that I will be tied up and made to beg. Stare blankly at my computer for ten minutes.
6:30 a.m. Wake to alarm.
4:11 a.m. Texts from guy whose number is stored in my phone as “Rando French Guy.” Another Barney.
2:15 p.m. Receive instructions from MG to send him a list of things I would like to have him do during our planned encounter. Head is spinning.
12:30 a.m. Text “Happy New Year” to MG, to which he responds only, “You too.”
7:05 a.m. Arrive home with British Barney. Say hello to roommate and friends, who are still drinking in the kitchen. Escort him to my bedroom where I allow him to get me off without removing his pants.
11:25 a.m. Wake with incredible hangover, alone. Stare at ceiling in attempt to recall detail of prior evening. Nothing.
12:40 a.m. Text MG a picture of the grotesque hickey dead-center on my neck.
7:50 p.m. Receive call from D., my high-school sweetheart with whom I have a boringly domestic relationship, despite our mutual disinterest.
9:12 p.m. Begin erotic texts with MG on topic of sharing the shower.
1:14 p.m. Continue naughty text barrage. MG commands me to send an account of my vision for our threesome to him by Sunday evening. I accept.
10:30 p.m. Having finished watching Kung Fu Panda, D. and I climb into bed and I explain that I am not “feeling sexy.” I despise myself for using this terminology, and him for accepting my rejection.
11:45 p.m. Reading and snuggling lead to gentle, lights-off sex during which I force orgasm by masturbation.
8:45 a.m. Wake to alarm and scent of D. sweating. Extract myself and hide in shower.
12:29 p.m. Call from MG. I stand on the street, freezing, and learn about his first-ever orgasm, at age 16, on a beach.
12:40 a.m. Finish vocal track with B., an ex with whom I am recording an album. Though I have not slept with him in months, he continues to attempt to coerce me.
2:20 a.m. B. and I get into bed to watch a Woody Allen movie while he aggressively pets my hair and rubs himself against me. I announce that my eye is hurting (partially true) and am relieved when he falls asleep.
11:11 a.m. Wake in a panic with BlackBerry battery dead. Immediately get taxi back to the city.
11:40 a.m. Arrive home to review texts of prior evening. One from someone I call the Professor. We dated until his alcoholism and violence became unlivable.
1:30 p.m. Climb into bed to complete story for MG. Have three very intense orgasms around the idea of being held down and pounded forcibly in a hotel room. Change sheets.
6:24 p.m. Run at the gym. Commit to losing ten-plus pounds before allowing MG to see me completely naked.
8:15 p.m. Receive text from MG reading, “Quite hot.” Am dismayed by his lack of enthusiasm.
8:25 p.m. Receive follow-up text from MG inquiring as to lack of response. I text that his review was glib.
7 a.m. Convince myself that shower masturbation is actually multitasking.
7:22 a.m. Remember that MG may join me at book-reading event tonight, and shave every inch of my body just in case.
7:30 p.m. MG arrives in a cashmere-blend coat and scarf. We drink wine and listen to the reading.
9 p.m. MG reminds me to wear seat belt and initiates hand-holding. He gives the name of a woman he had a MMF threesome with years ago.
9:12 p.m. I invite MG to my apartment “for a minute.”
9:30 p.m. MG holds my hair while I go down on him from my knees.
9:50 p.m. After only a minute or so of begging, he agrees to have sex with me.
10:05 p.m. We have very good but uninventive sex.
10:15 p.m. I give him a follow-up blow job, which is pleasantly effective and thoroughly enjoyable for us both.
10:35 p.m. Having begun to receive calls from the missus, MG dresses. He asks if the first time was disappointing. Leaves.
11:15 p.m. Spend 30 minutes or so Googling his former lover.
11:30 p.m. Assume that his post-coital question means, in fact, that he was disappointed. Cry.
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D.J. received 79 comments
COMMENTS ON THIS DIARY:
“That is one magical vagina. The only resemblance my 26-year-old self bears to this chick is the crying. I am completely blown away by women who are confident enough take charge of their own sexual pleasure.”
“I’m all for being a makeout skank but actually having 4 men inside of you during the course of one week seems a tad excessive.”
“@LZA: i dont see how having sex with 4 random people makes you “evolved” … it makes you wonder who she is trying to one up.”
“I congratulate those who are emotionally satisfied, but it’s not the norm. It’s kinda human nature, especially NY’er human nature. The fear of being complacent with the “normal,” often boring things … let’s call it Chuck Bass syndrome.”
“I feel like a Chuck Bass sometimes. The only type of men I ever want relationships with are the ones that are equally as much of an asshole as I am.”