Sunday, November 4, 2012

Hurricane Sandy will bring in a baby boom in NYC in Nine months or so.

As New Yorkers emerge from their homes in the wake of Hurricane Sandy, they find themselves with messes to clean, power lines to repair  -  and new sex partners, the inevitable outcome of a citywide event involving darkened apartments lit only by candles. Seven hurricane lovers tell their stories.

1. Rising Libidos Beneath a Falling Crane Rafaella, 38, midtown west

I was on my way back from a business trip and made it home to my husband just before the airport shut down. Then the crane collapsed in Midtown  -  we live right there, almost below it, so it was all very intense and we just started having, like, nonstop sex. Feral. We've had sex six times in 24 hours, and we're not done yet. [Ed: Interview conducted Tuesday morning.] For us, Sandy has been super-unproductive and, though I feel bad saying it, super-fun. Being near the crane was weird, scary, and exciting. We normally do have a lot of sex (at least once a day) but this was a lot for us.

2. The Female Player Who Never Left Home Lilly, 31, Prospect Heights

At home in my sweatpants on Monday afternoon, I did my normal site checks: JDate, OkCupid, crushes on Facebook. Then I got a Coffee Meets Bagel alert about a guy asking "for a second chance," because I'd ignored him the first time around. He was a 35-year-old Pisces, pretty cute, so this time around I "liked" him. His name was completely unpronounceable, but we connected over text and started flirting. Meanwhile, I'd struck up a Facebook chat with a TV actor I've pathetically tried to chat with in the past. Normally he ignores me, but I guess Sandy made him really desperate? We made a date to meet in person soon.

Then, while juggling those two, an unknown number called my phone. Because we were mid-emergency, I picked up, but it was this random Jewish doctor from 'Cupid who tried to convince me he was monitoring the storm for the New York Fire Department. He was trying to be macho, but I didn't like the tone of his voice, so I made an excuse and hung up. By then the storm was picking up. If he really was important as he said, then it seemed like an inappropriate time to flirt?

Throughout the night I got sexts from exes, friends with benefits, and sexy Brooklyn stragglers. You know the type. Example: "Why didn't we spend the whole day naked?"

But even if I could have left my apartment, I wasn't exactly feeling my sexiest. Having eaten a tub of Swedish Fish and another of chocolate malt balls, I was having a nice time on my couch. So I put the phone down to focus on the news, but within minutes, I was Googling the statuses of two cute meteorologists. For the record, Phil Lipof is married but amazing at his job, and Jeff Smith is, according to some gay website, "allegedly" straight, six foot six, and engaged.

Today, in the calm after the storm, I'm supposed to have a date with a real-live person who I met at a party. But I kind of feel like canceling and staying home. {Read on} {Daily Mail}