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Daily Sext

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Seven men. One for every day of the week. A story too s*xy to pass up. Chicago University newspaper is going under. I need to save it. Everyone says s*x sells, and what is sexier than a polyamorous relationship? One woman. Multiple men. Now that’s how you sell papers. But my plea for such a woman to come forward to an interview has unexpected consequences. All I get are Dirty sexts asking if I want first-hand experience. I shouldn’t give up my v-card and get involved with seven men. I’m not that desperate to save the paper. Or am I? The men pursuing me are making it hard to say no, as they start to become my secret fantasies every day of the week for different reasons. Mr. Monday’s bold and says precisely what’s on his mind. Mr. Tuesday’s sensitive and listens to my every need. Mr. Wednesday’s compassionate, the kind of guy who knows what he wants but doesn’t just take it. Mr. Thursday knows how to spice things up. Mr. Friday’s tall, dark, and handsome, his sultry eyes always have me coming back for more. Mr. Saturday’s always wants to be in control. Mr. Sunday’s quiet and mysterious, an enigma that I can’t wait to unravel. I always knew I would have to go all-in to become a respected journalist. The more I talk to them, the more I want to know them not only online, but offline too. They are promising to do things to me that are so dirty; I can’t sleep at night. I never imagined all-in would mean sacrificing myself for a story. Especially, with the bully writer, who’s jealous of the attention that my stories keep getting. I need to keep it a secret if I do decide to play out my fantasies because if the truth comes out, I don’t know if we will all survive the wreckage.


August 2018

Finally, summer was almost over, and it was time for me to leave Grandma’s house to get ready for university.

It was the new beginning for some, but for me, it was everything. I would leave my high school paper behind and be in the big league. The university paper, the one thing that I’d dreamt of doing since I was a little girl.

“If you stare at that mirror long enough, it’ll break.” Grandma winked as she stood behind me.

I didn’t even realize that she was in the room. I’d decided to spend my last few weeks during summer before moving to university with her; I told Mom that she needed the company; it was a lie. I was the one that needed the company. Grandma was home all the time unlike Mom who worked all the time, and the truth be told, between my friends all getting ready for university and going on vacation, I was the only one around, and I was kind of lonely.

“No, I just need to change my hair color, maybe or even lose a few pounds. Chicago University ’s new semester starts in two weeks, and I need people to take me more seriously.”

She laughed. “Who do you want to take you seriously? If anything, you should die your hair blond. After all, they do have more fun, and Lord knows you need some fun. You spent all summer with me, kids your age want fun before starting university, they don’t want to spend it with their grandparents.”

I shook my head; Grandma was a former Playboy Bunny. She even stayed in the mansion once, something that no one in our family liked to talk about, and she loved to broadcast it every time a new member joined our family. She still dyed her grey hairs blond and proudly displayed her breasts, claiming that they were the best gift from God. Even with the way that she dressed and carried herself, no one thought that she was my Grandma. If anything, they sometimes mistook her for my mom.

“No. I’m talking about the university newspaper. The reason that I applied to go to CU in the first place…”

“So, you can be a top journalist just like your dad. Look, Tessa. No one goes to college just to study. They go there to have fun. I should know, the amount of college students I played with in my time,” she purred as she said the last sentence which kind of scared me. It was almost as if she was going back in time, remember all the college students that she played with; that was too much for my brain to take on board right now.

Then, she faced me with all the seriousness in the world as she woke up from her fantasy of the past. She had her hands on my shoulder, and she wanted me to take on her next words very seriously.

“I worry about you. Your dad, sure he’s a top journalist, but remember he worked too hard and that was why your mom and him ended up going through a bitter divorce.”

I didn’t need reminding about their divorce, I begged dad to let me live with him, and he insisted that he didn’t have time. It would be better if you stayed with your mom. I´ll visit. That was nine years ago. I would wait for him to visit and stay in a local hotel so we could see each other for more than one day. He would come, tell me that he had to fly and as quickly as he came back into my life, he’d be out again.

“But the paper will change everything, I’ll be like him and then he’ll take me seriously, no more would I be writing for the high school paper. I’ll be in the big league and he’ll be so proud; he’d visit and stay for more than one day. And we’ll have the relationship that I’ve always wanted.”

She kissed me on the head, as she towered over me in her three-inch heels, “Sweetie. Go to college. Have fun. You need to have new experiences, that’s what college is all about.”

“So, I’m told." I sighed as I thought about my friends and them all talking about college, they were all trying to lose their virginity this summer. Those were the ones who hadn’t already lost it at prom.

“Besides, a little bit of flesh on display never hurt anyone. And you can have fun. You don’t need to change your hair color to do that. But your clothes are a different matter.”

She said, pointing to my breasts, which she claimed made me lucky because I was as gifted as she was. But I didn’t know if it was a gift or a curse. Most of the time, no one took me seriously; they spent more time talking to them, rather than looking me in the eyes whenever they spoke to me.

“I dunno, Grandma. I have a plan, and it’s going to work. It’s all I’ve been dreaming about for such a long time. I want to be part of the university paper, to kickstart my journalist career.”

She winked at me. “Take my hand, Tessa. I have a plan too. It starts and ends with you getting a new closet for university. Remember when you get there to tell them that I was a former Playboy Bunny. That will make you popular with the girls; they’ll be jealous that you have a famous Grandma.”

I shook my head as we walked out of the door. “Yeah, it’ll make me popular with the guys too, they’ll probably think that Playboy’s in my genes.”

“One could only wish, my dear; one could only wish.”

She smiled as we headed out of the door. We jumped into her car, and she drove us to the mall. That was another thing that I had to do— get my license. I was old enough, but I'd never had the time to practice, let alone take the test. I wouldn’t be that far from home, so it would be good to get my license and then work on saving to get a car, so I could drive home whenever I wanted to, instead of getting the bus.

I didn’t know what she meant by that statement and I was too afraid to ask what she meant. I soon found out as we hit the stores. I wondered if Grandma thought that she was getting me ready for college or auditioning for an open spot in the Playboy mansion (I hated to tell her that it was closed). As we hit more stores, I realized that she was buying me clothes for the latter. University seemed to be the furthest thing on her mind!


“I have some bad news.” Jenny stood in the front of the conference room, a room filled with tables, paper, files, and most of our office supplies, a serious frown marred her features. We rarely used the room for anything other than days like today, when Jenny, our student newspaper adviser, had news that we all needed to hear at the same time. Usually news we didn’t want to hear, and I squirmed in my seat, uneasy.

I stared at her face, saw the worry lines at the corners of her gray eyes, mostly hidden behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and noted how flushed her face was. She’d either hit early menopause or she was worried. Her pencil-straight black hair, cut in a short bob just at her chin, gave her a severe look, but she wasn’t at all. Normally, she was quite playful, helpful, and kind. Today, however, she was worried, and it showed in everything she did, especially when she started to wring her hands together.

I tapped my favorite pen, a bright orange, thick enamel


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