This week, a new-to-NYC humanitarian worker lusting after a younger guy and bored by a preppy one: Monday mornings are for my therapist. I wake up, like I do most mornings, not wanting to get up. She helps me work through my relationship issues with men. Men see me as two things: I know this is partly my own doing, but at 37, I need to be my best self and find the man of my dreams. I work for an international organization in midtown. Six months in, and I love the city.
I finally feel like this is a place I could settle. I leave the office for a quick coffee and start scrolling through my few dating apps. After more than a decade of being on it, I recently went off the pill.
This has changed my sex drive in a major way. I suddenly feel sexual all of the time. On my way home I text Sam, a guy I slept with a few weeks ago. We met on Bumble. I recently lowered my age range on the apps … 8 p. God, I love living in this city. At my desk and thinking about what I can do to lure Sam to my apartment tonight … Noon I text him in my usual brazen manner — always first.
I wish I could be one to play hard to get; that seems to work for some female friends. The day goes by fast, multiple meetings at different offices. I drink wine, check emails, and try to keep my mind occupied. I jump in the shower. The doormen can be a bit guarded. He rings my doorbell. I answer and am immediately ready to jump him. But his smile and his sex appeal — they get me every time. Two glasses of wine in. We start kissing and he asks if he can jump in the shower.
When I come out he tells me he wants to watch me shower. I jump in, but before I turn on the water he demands I kneel in the bathtub and give him a blow job. So much sex … including anal. But okay, I guess. My alarm goes off and I turn over.
Last night was great, but I also love being on my own in the morning. I get up, close the door, and make coffee. I sit at my kitchen table, still in my pajamas I hate sleeping naked , and take the call. I have to give a presentation on leadership skills. Ugh, can he hear me? I finish up in the bathroom and open my bedroom door to find him still passed out. I wake him softly and nudge him into the shower so he can be on his way. I feel sore, but in a good way.
I keep thinking about him and it turns me on. I go out for a drink with my best friend, Matt. Matt is a gorgeous gay man who has been my lifeline in New York. I feel like I can talk to him about anything. I tell him about my anal sex adventure, along with the hair-pulling and ass-slapping. He laughs; he knows me too well. I love to be dominated in bed. I shower and jump into bed, reaching for my book. The sun is shining and spring seems to have finally sprung.
I call my sister during a quick and talk to my 2-year old nephew about monkeys, his new thing. I meet Matt for lunch at one of our favorite Japanese lunch spots. We work a few blocks away from each other and try to meet for lunch a few days a week. I leave work early and head to the gym. The high of the other night has begun to fade. I make a spinach omelette and some toast — breakfast for dinner. I pour myself a glass of red wine and begin scrolling through my dating apps.
Six years older than me and a reliable texter. We send texts back and forth for close to an hour. We set a time and place to meet tomorrow night. Is it weird that I suggested the same place I went on my last date?
I take a bath and go to bed. My date tonight feels far away and my mind drifts to Sam. How hard is a simple text message? I love Friday nights. I arrive at the wine bar. I grab my purse and jacket, and make my way to the back of the bar. Leo is exaggeratedly courteous. When I get up to use the restroom he stands. He even asks my permission to use the restroom. Is this guy for real? He insists on walking me home.
We walk to my cross street and say the usual pleasantries. I decide to make the first move and kiss him on the mouth. We talk a bit more and as we say good-bye, I give him another kiss. He gives me another closed-mouth kiss.
I wake up, have some cereal, a quick coffee, and head to the gym. I think about Sam. Grab the bull by the horns, right? Sam said he would be off by I talk to Matt for a while, about my anxieties over my relationship status and my consistent falling back on men who only want me for one thing. The restaurant is busy. I sleep in late and then spend a good half an hour trolling through Instagram from my bed. Sam actually texts me. I make some pasta and open up a bottle of wine. I call the front desk downstairs to let them know a friend is coming over.
Once again, I wonder if they keep track of who comes to visit who. His hair is a bit wet, he has a pashmina tied around his neck and is wearing a white collared shirt. He sits down and I pour him a glass of wine. He starts telling me about this couple he knows after I tell him about some friends who are polyamorous. When I ask him how he knows them, he makes a comment about a painting on my wall.
I ask again and he says through an app. He whips out his phone and starts showing me pictures of the couple. Then he comes straight out and asks me if I want to be a fourth. Should I be flattered? I drink more wine. He says the experience was just a lot of hanging out, followed by a wild sex session with the girl.
The couple is apparently married … New York is the city that has everything, right? Sam and I start kissing before making our way to my bedroom.