Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Two-Timing Substitute Teacher With the Porn-Addict Friend: 30, male, Brooklyn, heterosexual, single.
DAY ONE
12:30 a.m.: After drinks with friends, I find myself extremely aroused. I call up Chloe, my “girlfriend” who I’ve been off and on with for a while. We haven’t had the “girlfriend-boyfriend” talk. I ask to come over. She agrees. The bus ride over gives me a lot of time to think about what I want to do. I am ready to star in my own porn.
1 a.m.: She is geared and ready. (When we first started dating, we would tear each other’s clothes off. Then we hit a dry spell. Now sometimes she’s freaky; other times she’s a born-again Christian majoring in celibacy.) Despite vodka, I’m able to hold myself up with my arms and get going.
1:10 a.m.: Reality sets in. On my back and her doing all the work. She seems game.
2 a.m.: My penis is effectively numb to the world from all the shots. Thoughts are racing through my head. Should I call 911? Is it broken?
11 a.m.: I wake up, surprised that Junior even has the energy to be up and at ‘em in the morning, but he is. (Such a loyal soldier.) She is still asleep. She has a look on her face that says, “I’m never answering the phone past midnight again.”
DAY TWO
2 p.m.: My parents brainwashed me that Sundays are the day of worship. Any sinful acts have to be repressed. That is cool when you are say, 8, but when you hit your thirties, it is hard to live by.
3:20 p.m.: Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. This woman bends over, and I can see her chest canal. You know, that tunnel which forms separating the breasts. That is such a beautiful sight. Internal conflict. It’s Sunday.
5 p.m.: Chloe’s. We get into a conversation about downstairs grooming. I offer to be her personal barber, as I have many times before. She lies down on some newspaper. Voilà! And yet my fear of Sunday sex is strong enough for me not to do anything. Chloe showers.
5:10 p.m.: Sharon, a former co-worker with a perfect body, calls. I am knee-deep in the friend zone with her. Calling to confirm a party I forgot about. Just the sound of her voice awakens Junior. I have had sex with her in my mind more than 1,000 times. Each time it gets better and better.
10:45 p.m.: At Brooklyn lounge party. Sharon arrives and I immediately want to jump on her, but I can’t cause I’m in the FRIENDS’ ZONE. Soooo distracting. I do not want my .004 percent chance of hooking up with her to be ruined by being caught looking at other women.
3 a.m.: We arrive at my place. She gives me a high five and leaves. That is the moment where I realize that my fantasies about this woman must end. I spend ten minutes recalling images of the lounge women. Sleep.
DAY THREE
6 p.m.: Friend’s house. Out of the blue, he puts on some porn. See, I have no issue with porn. I have seen it before. He is addicted to it. This man has porn sorted by categories. He stores them in duffel bags. He has a New York Giants duffel bag that is for his anal-sex DVDs. He has a black book bag, which houses his squirt videos. He has two other duffel bags for big-chested woman and large booties.
6:10 p.m.: Ten minutes into the porn I’m already bored, and he keeps rewinding certain scenes and raising the volume. This is not the first time he has “porned” me. We could be doing anything, playing Madden, watching television, listen to music, or just talking about life and out of nowhere a porno is on.
8:30 p.m.: Phone. Janet. A woman I met her during an “off” period with Chloe. She’s my dream woman on the outside. She is career-driven, very independent, and sexy as all hell. However, she has no plans ever to have children. Nor is she a fan of marriage. Those feelings are cool for now, but in the future that will be a enormous problem. So, in my dealings with her, I try not to get too attached.
10:20 p.m.: I’m in Janet’s car. We are heading toward the local park. We chat for a little bit, but somehow, someway the talk always leads to sex.
10:30 p.m.: In the car at the park. If it were possible I’d tell her to get her mouth trademarked.
11:15 p.m.: I want to reciprocate, but she won’t let me. In retrospect, I think that was a wise decision, because ten minutes later the sandman begins to whip my tail.
DAY FOUR
10 a.m.: Several e-mails from Janet. The majority are articles that she found on the Web and thought I’d find interesting; however, there is one personal note. She wants to see me on Thursday, in order to finish where we left off. I am willing; however, it all depends on the time. NBA.
6 p.m.: I go to visit Chloe. We just hang out. I am exhausted.
DAY FIVE
5 p.m.: En route to Chloe’s place. I have great sexual things planned for us tonight. I am hoping she is in the mood. There is nothing sexier than Chloe reaching her peak. I am envisioning that throughout my entire commute.
5:45 p.m.: Chloe’s not home. I make dinner.
6:18 p.m.: Chloe comes in. I’ve known her for so long, and she still gets me aroused just by being in the room with me, whether she’s naked or fully clothed.
10:30 p.m.: Chloe and I have spent the entire night talking and watching television. Junior was up the majority of the time, which is normal in her presence. The sandman is knocking at my door. We kiss and both hit the sack.
DAY SIX
7:45 a.m.: Chloe and I are up and about to leave the house. She is not in a great mood. I am, because I got to see the twins before my commute.
12:30 p.m.: Several e-mails from Janet. She wants to confirm our romp for tonight. I tell her tentatively yes. We are to meet at 9 p.m. (I am willing to sacrifice the first quarter, or even the first half, of the game.)
7:15 p.m.: I’m watching Jeopardy, and Chloe comes in and begins to perform oral sex on me. It came out of nowhere. There I am trying to solve Greek philosophers for $800, and now I’m understanding the meaning of life.
7:22 p.m.: As I finish, so does all motivation to meet up with Janet later.
7:50 p.m.: As per my fantasy the day before, watching Chloe reach her peak, I return the favor to her. She had two orgasms. I have done my job. All I need to do was pound on my chest and swing on a vine to ensure my manhood.
8:58 p.m.: Janet! I hurry to the phone and call her. She does not pick up. I leave a very white-lie-laden voice mail. She calls back. I don’t answer. By not picking up, it bolsters my W.L.L.(White Lie Laden) voice mail.
DAY SEVEN
3:30 p.m.: No weekend plans yet. I know I want some type of sexual contact. Call Chloe and e-mail Janet. Neither one has responded as of yet.
4:15 p.m.: Chloe returns my call. She and some friends are going to be hanging out tonight. There goes that plan.
5 p.m.: Janet returns my e-mail. She wants us to hook up tonight, around nine. I am down with that until she says that she wants me to spend the night. See, staying at Chloe’s is one thing — I’ve done it before and am very comfortable with it — Janet, well let’s just say, I’m not as comfortable. I tell her I’ll call her later.
7 p.m.: I go by my friend’s house, the porn guru. We were watching an interesting flick. It’s this huge guy and a midget. It’s like watching a car accident. You don’t want to see the carnage, but you really can’t stop looking.
9:03 p.m.: Janet calls and wants to know the verdict for our plans. I punk out, say I’m helping my friend move.
Totals: One act of intercourse; two acts of fellatio, one from “girlfriend” and one from “woman met during ‘off’ period with ‘girlfriend’”; one act of cunnilingus; one act of trimming woman’s hair; two pornos watched with porn-addict friend; one act of masturbation to fantasies of Brooklyn lounge women.
