Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Female Museum Greeter Whose Boyfriend Is Making Up for Lackluster Sex: 23, female, Prospect Heights, in a relationship, straight.
DAY ONE
7 a.m.: I wake up slightly hung-over and naked. I’m one of those lucky people who gets to work on the weekends, so I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. I perk up at the thought of seeing my boyfriend, D, tonight and getting some.
7:30 a.m.: I admire myself in the mirror. I’ve been working out, determined to have an excuse to buy a new swimsuit this summer.
8:20 a.m.: On my way to the subway, I get a catcall: “Hey, Shorty, let me carry them bags for you.” And then someone else adds in, “Let me carry that ass for you!” Being a small, black female with a booty, I’m used to these things and I stomp on down the stairs.
1 p.m.: I work in the lobby of a museum and must keep appearances. It’s all about being professional and polite, but I have the prospect of sex keeping a smile on my face. The museum is teeming with people today, and no one can figure out how to buy tickets or look for a restroom. A co-worker and I talk briefly about our plans for the night. She’s going to a loft party in Brooklyn; I’m going to Queens to see D. Ugh — about Queens, not my boyfriend.
6 p.m.: Heading to D’s apartment, via a train and then a bus. We’ve been together for a year now, and somehow our relationship has survived the 50-minute commute from Brooklyn to Queens and vice versa. I stick out like a sore thumb in his neighborhood, and he in mine, but that hasn’t ever resulted in a serious issue — just looks and stares on the train as we hold hands and kiss. We have plans to move in together during the summer, which I hope will result in frequent sex and fewer clothes worn around the apartment.
7 p.m.: We’re both sitting on the couch, using our laptops, talking to each other yet too involved in the Internet to really pay attention to the other person.
8 p.m.: We take a break to eat dinner — pasta and sauce.
11 p.m.: Without a word, I shut down my computer and start taking my clothes off. He notices but doesn’t say anything. Naked, I head into the bedroom. A few seconds later I hear him fumbling with his belt buckle. The light in the living room turns off and he shows up, naked, with a hard-on.
11:15 p.m.: He starts eating me out and I moan and shiver, pulling D’s hair. I love being eaten out and his last girlfriend never let him, which I don’t understand, but to each her own.
11: 20 p.m.: We start out with missionary, and then he pulls my legs over his shoulders. Then I flip over and we do doggy-style. He smacks my ass a lot in this position and strangely, it really turns me on.
11:45 p.m.: We switch places, me on top now. I stop to give him a blow job, just to take him back from the edge. He reaches down to twist my nipples and tells me to hop on.
12 a.m.: I come before he does, both of us satisfied with the night’s activities. After cleanup we spoon and fall asleep.
DAY TWO
7:30 a.m.: Up and off to work again. I dress as he sleeps and leave the apartment.
10 a.m.: Work is boring.
1 p.m.: During my lunch break I receive a text from D: “Wish I could fuck you again tonight.” I respond, “Only if you’re coming to Brooklyn”. His reply: “☹.”
8 p.m.: At home, in bed since the heat hasn’t come on yet. I think about masturbating but really, it’s so cold and I’ve warmed up a nice spot that I don’t want to move out of. I watch some shows on Hulu until I fall asleep.
DAY THREE
7:20 a.m.: I have a hard time trying to figure out what to wear. This morning I feel as if every shirt I own has a plunging neckline and all of my dresses are too short.
8:15 a.m.: I decide on a button-up and a cropped pair of pants.
8:30 a.m.: The gentlemen on the corner also like my pants.
11 a.m.: One of the great things about working in the museum is the number of beautiful tourists walking around. Even though I get fed up answering their questions (where is the restroom? Where is the cafeteria? Do you take euros? Where is the subway?), their accents are a great turn-on. I watch an Italian family try to figure out which brochure is a map.
1 p.m.: I have a meeting with my manager to talk about goals and progress. On my way upstairs, I notice that the middle button on my shirt has come undone. How long have I been flashing people in the museum?
1:30 p.m.: My meeting turns out to be more of a “You’re doing a great job, keep it up” pep talk. My breasts do not try to free themselves from my shirt at any point.
DAY FOUR
10 a.m.: Off to the gym. The amount of snow I have to walk through almost makes me change my mind, but I continue to the train.
10:40 a.m.: Running (more like huffing) on the treadmill. A gym employee walks past and does a double take. He’s short and has no neck, and I pretend to sniff my armpit so he’ll stop eye-raping me and move on.
2 p.m.: D wants to meet up. He’s between jobs at the moment, but not in a lazy slacker way. He has something lined up that he isn’t too thrilled about but that will keep him busy for a few months. We decide to see a movie and eat an early dinner.
5 p.m.: When I get to Queens I can tell something is up with D. He no longer wants to see the movie, so we head straight to eat. I remember that he had an interview earlier and ask him about it. He shrugs and says he decided not to go — the job wasn’t something he really wanted to be doing. This is not good, since we both need to be saving up.
5:10 p.m.: We order, and I get a beer. D isn’t into drinking and doesn’t mind if I do, but he knows how I can get silly if I have too much.
Back in D’s apartment, slightly buzzed and rubbing my food baby. Not at all sexy, I have to admit. I lay down on his couch to read while he pretends to look for jobs.
12 a.m.: Time for bed. Instead of lying next to him, I get on top of him and slap his face with my breasts. He pushes them together and kisses my nipples. I move down toward his penis, biting his happy trail.
12:05 a.m.: While giving D a blow job, I notice that he isn’t as into it as he normally is. I make sure to pull his balls too. He has his eyes closed, but it doesn’t seem as if I’m getting anywhere with him.
12:23 a.m.: I mount him, reverse cowgirl, so he can watch my ass move up and down. He grabs it but isn’t thrusting into me. I look over my shoulder at him and he gives me a weak smile. I turn to face him, carefully so he doesn’t slip out of me, and ask if anything is wrong, still moving my hips back and forth playfully. He tells me he isn’t in the mood. I’m disappointed and horny so I keep going, but he isn’t responding so I get off and get under the covers.
12:30 a.m.: He asks me if I’m mad, and I lie and say no. He can tell by the tone of my voice that I’m pissed off. He knows I would never refuse sex in the early stages and knows that he has given me the lady equivalent of blue balls (pissed-off pussy? cold clit?). He spoons me and pulls me closer, whispering apologies and promising a better performance next time.
DAY FIVE
7:23 a.m.: I wake up from a dream in which I had sex with an acquaintance. It’s weird because I haven’t spoken to this person in a month, and I don’t find him very attractive. I actually had an orgasm in my sleep, because I can feel my clit throbbing. Maybe this is my body’s way of giving me what I was denied the night before.
8:50 a.m.: On the subway, I try to re-create the dream sex in my mind as I’m pressed up against a guy with a suitcase and a girl who looks like she skinned a Muppet for her coat. I feel a little guilty for being angry with D and for the dream, but he knows how I get when I don’t get any.
12 p.m.: I receive a text from D: “Sorry about last night.” I accept his apology and tell him he can make it up to me tomorrow night.
12:05 p.m.: I get caught sending text messages and my manager makes a face. Back to art and answering questions about ticket prices.
9 p.m.: My roommate and I share a bottle of wine, and I tell her about my sex dream. I don’t tell her how I think it was a result of D rejecting me mid-hump. She laughs it off, and we try to think of what the rest of our friends look like while having sex.
DAY SIX
9 a.m.: I take my time getting out of bed, letting my hands wander down into my underwear. I play with myself a little but know things are in store for later and decide to wait.
6 p.m.: D and I meet up at a gallery in the Lower East Side. He’s not much of an art person, but he knows I’m interested and goes to keep me company.
7 p.m.: We go to dinner at a place with communal tables. The couple next to us keeps eating off of each other’s plates and making statements about the other’s dinner that they think we can’t hear. I reach a hand under the table to D and he smiles into his soda.
9 p.m.: Back at my place, D lies down on the couch. I pour myself a glass of wine and ask if he wants anything. No answer. I come into the living room to find him sleeping.
10 p.m.: It was cute for a while, but now I’m buzzed and horny and would like to do the deed before my roommate gets home. I try rubbing a breast on D’s face, but he doesn’t react. I tell him to move it into the bedroom and he gets grumpy.
10:40 p.m.: I’m on the computer wasting time until D decides to wake up and get a glass of water. He comes back and starts kissing me and putting his hands under my shirt. To be honest I’m not in the mood, but he guides the laptop to the floor and undresses me. I try to resist, but he’s gone between my legs and I lay back and enjoy.
10:50 p.m.: D is on top of me, thrusting. I’m still not totally into it, but I know he wants to make up for the other night.
11 p.m.: Something clicks, and now I’m biting D’s neck and talking dirty to him. He moves to the side of the bed, sitting on the edge with me sitting on top of him and facing him. The door to my room is open, and if my roommate were to come home, she’d see everything. Neither of us bothers to close it.
11:15 p.m.: I push D back onto the bed, and I ride him until I come. I ask if he’s going to come, and he says he doesn’t feel the buildup. It used to bother me when he wouldn’t come after sex, but now that we know how each other’s bodies work, I understand. Plus D masturbates more than I do, which results in less buildup when he has sex. I like to wait for the action.
11:20 p.m.: We watch a movie on my computer and fall asleep.
DAY SEVEN
8:20 a.m.: Running late. D is grumpy because the heat was too hot in my apartment last night. I don’t see how this is such a huge problem, seeing as it’s twenty degrees outside now. He complained that he couldn’t get to sleep and that I don’t have any soda in my fridge. We stop at a bodega to get him one.
8:23 a.m.: The guys on the corner don’t say anything today when they see D with me.
12 p.m.: A friend sends out a mass text message about an open bar he’s hosting somewhere downtown. I invite my co-worker, but she’s going on a double date.
8 p.m.: I video chat with D. I would invite him out to my friend’s bar, but he doesn’t like loud music or my friends. He’s still grumpy and has been sulking all day, but I take my top off as we chat and he shows me his erection. I make plans to come over the next night for more sex.
11:10 p.m.: On the train back into Manhattan. I watch a beautiful man eat two Big Macs and use the paper bag as a napkin. I’m drunk and wishing D were there, but I find myself wondering what sex would be like with this guy — minus the burger breath.
11:20 p.m.: A friend that I used to hook up with back in school is the first person I see when I enter the bar. We chat and he asks me about D. I tell him he’s at home, and he gives me a look. I could never cross that line and hurt D. I give my friend a kiss on the cheek and walk off to look for other people I know.
3:15 a.m.: Crawling the stairs to my apartment. I have to get up in four hours. I leave a drunk voice mail for D and pass out.
TOTALS: Three acts of sex, two acts of oral (receiving), two acts of oral (giving), one sex dream, two failed attempts to masturbate, lots of sexting, one webcam boob flash.
