Grady Turner, curator of the inaugural exhibition at the Museum of Sex in New York City, emailed me: “A friend sent me a link to the slideshow of your visit to the museum. I enjoy seeing the photo in which you tried to steal a peek. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!”

The Museum of Sex opened with the history of sex in New York City and how it has changed America. I have to agree, the city just exudes sex… in fact, their website has an interactive map of the city, and you can read stories of what happens in the different neighborhoods in Manhattan, and even add your own steamy New York story. I did… can you find it? Here’s a clue… a haiku:

I lie next to my dark one
I feel his heartbeat
Throb all over my twin bed

I met Jay in NYC, you know. He showed me the pleasures of sodomy and other naughty deeds. He invited other lovely men to share my body with.

There’s Keith, a Nordic sculptor with tattoos all over his body, who offered me wood and stone fetishes carved into penises. He was a voracious lover, he and Jay rocked me to the moon one night.

Then there’s Mitch, a real-life NY cabbie by day and genius musician by night. After hours, he shoots porn with me and Jay. I met Mitch at the Staten Island Ferry, and he kept saying he wanted to worship my ass. How can a girl resist?

This in-your-face attitude of New Yorkers really helps me come out of my shell. I’m shy! The city’s grunge makes me feel like a dirty girl so that energy comes across in my sexual encounters. It’s an energy as old as the city itself, of rebirth and freedom, the very essence of sex.

Cheers to New Yorkers, and to the Museum of Sex in NYC!