New York Magazine Sex Diary

By Hypnothrill -
published December 14, 2018
1480 words

This week: an office manager who’s fantasizing about cheating on his wife. Male, 42, Long Island, straight.

{Author’s note: This is another of my slow burn stories, and I’ll be posting it in several parts over the course of this week. It’s a parody of New York Magazine’s “Sex Diaries” series. This one in particular served as an inspiration for me: Let me know in the comments how you’re liking it and what you imagine will come next.}

New York Magazine Sex Diary

New York’s Sex Diaries series asks anonymous city dwellers to record a week in their sex lives — with comic, tragic, often sexy, and always-revealing results. This week: an office manager who’s fantasizing about cheating on his wife. Male, 42, Long Island, straight.

Day One

6 a.m. Alarm wakes me up for work. Wife rolls over and asks what time it is. “Time for a quickie?” I ask hopefully, and she just snorts, puts the pillow over her head, and goes back to bed. Typical.

We’ve been married for 20 years now, and before that, we were college sweethearts. We used to go at it like rabbits, and even after our son was born, we had a healthy sex life. But for the past 10 years (actually, maybe more), we only have sex once a week at best. It’s not that I don’t want it; she’s still an attractive woman, and her hot yoga and Soulcycle classes keep her fit, but her sex drive isn’t what it used to be. Mine, on the other hand…

6:15 a.m. Taking the problem in hand, I rub a quick one out in the shower while remembering scenes from the porno I watched on my laptop last night. Swedish lesbians, mmm….

10:30 a.m. Another busy day at work. I’m the office manager at a medical practice on the Upper East Side. Long hours and killer commute, but it pays the bills. And with a mortgage and college tuition for my son at NYU, I’ve got plenty of bills to pay! One of the younger doctors in our practice, a fit guy in his early 30s I’ll call “Dan,” showed me some bikini pics of the girl he’s banging this month. Amazing tits. Clearly implants, but amazing tits. Not for the first time, I envy Dan and his carefree bachelor life.

6:00 p.m. Text the wife to let her know that I’m heading to the gym, so I won’t be back home until late. She texts back to say it’s no problem, she’ll just make dinner for one tonight. Just like I figured. It’s like she barely even notices whether I’m there anymore.

7:00 p.m. At the gym, trying to work off the weight I gained over the holidays. At 42, I’m still in fairly good shape. But still, dad bod has a way of catching up with you, y’know? I notice this hot-looking twentysomething blonde over on one of the other treadmills; she’s wearing a pair of skintight workout pants, and her ass is amazing. She catches me staring and gives me like a look like, who is this old perv? The perils of growing older…

9:30 p.m. Finally get home and find my wife in our bedroom watching a marathon of Outlander on her laptop. She has her headphones in, and I know better than to disturb her when she’s watching one of her programs. So I head out to the living room and turn on ESPN to watch some college hoops. There are these weird waves of static on the TV screen—why am I even paying $150 a month for premium cable if it comes with static?—so I turn it off after 15 minutes.

10:00 p.m. I’m feeling really horny all of a sudden, and I’m in the mood for something different, so I take my laptop into the bathroom, load up Pornhub, and search until I find a hot video where this big-titted blonde chick takes two dicks in her mouth at the same time. I bust a nut right at the same time the second guy is creaming on her face.

Day Two

6:00 a.m. My alarm wakes me up again and my wife mumbles something about turning that shit off. I don’t bother asking for sex this morning. I just hop into the shower and start jerking my morning wood. That video I watched last night is running through my head, only this time I’m imagining that I’m one of the guys face-fucking that busty blonde. And what’s even hotter is how the other dude keeps egging me on, keeps urging me to blow my load. So I do, spurting my baby batter all over the shower tile. (Though it’s not really baby batter any more, not since the wife talked me into having that vasectomy).

2:00 p.m. Another busy day at work, but I get a chance to chat with Dan again. I’m staring at him, thinking about how fit he was and how you could see the outline of his muscles even in his shapeless scrubs, when I blurt out how I’ve started hitting the gym again and ask him if he has any workout tips for me. He just grins and invites me to work out with him after we get off work. “We’ll work off that spare tire of yours,” he says, then rubs my belly through my dress shirt. It’s been a while since anybody’s touched me like that. It feels nice.

6:30 p.m. At the gym with Dan, I keep pointing out girls I think he’d like, big-titted blondes mostly. I don’t know why, I guess that because I’m married and I’d never have the balls to cheat on my wife, I’m just trying to live vicariously through Dan. He doesn’t seem that interested, though; he just gives an appreciative nod and a grunt, then points out another fit guy on the gym floor. “An ass like that only comes from a shit-ton of squats,” he says, leading me over to the squat rack. “We’ve gotta get you looking like that.”

8:00 p.m. After we get showered and changed—and yes, I take one little peek at Dan in the locker room because it never hurts to check out the competition—Dan suggests a bite to eat at a sports bar down the block, and I say yes. It beats taking the train back to Long Island and coming home to a cold dinner and an equally cold wife.

The sports bar’s got a bunch of big TVs, and most of them are tuned to college basketball games. What the hell? They’ve got the weird static on all their TVs too. Fucking cable monopolies. Not that the guys in the bar seem to mind, though. They’re practically glued to the set, not even tearing their eyes away from the screen as they eat their wings and drink their beer. Dan and I chat a bit about our plans for the weekend, but then the conversation starts to drift off as we too get distracted and start staring at the staticky TV screen in front of us. After a while, the static starts giving me a headache, so I put some money down on the table and tell Dan I need to catch my train home. He just grunts and keeps staring up at the screen.

10:00 p.m. Finally back home, and god, I feel so fucking horny. Without even stopping to check in on my wife, I grab my laptop, head to the bathroom, and pull up that threesome porn video again. It only takes a few strokes and then I’m blowing a huge load all over my work shirt and tie. A few drops even drip onto my slacks. Shit! I don’t want my wife to see this, so I get undressed and run down to the laundry room to wash a special late night load. Along the way, I run into my son, who raises a quizzical eyebrow at the sight of his dad coming down the hall in just his underwear. The funny thing is, he’s in his underwear too, and he’s also holding a small load of dirty clothes. Noticing the telltale cum trails on the T-shirt in his hands, I smile and show him my soiled clothes. I offer to wash his cum-stained clothes with mine, and we agree to keep this our little secret.

Mind control
Wanking material
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