You are a cooking student in East Village’s “Appetite For Seduction.” Your class is titled, the “Insatiable Italian.” Your couple’s chef, New York male companion, Francis, is a culinary aficionado while you’re a rookie. Scared to wield the knife, you appreciate Francis standing behind you, pressing against you while carefully guiding your hands to chop. He rocks the body of the knife skillfully as you jointly chop tomatoes for the margherita pizza. He explains how to use your blade. Imbued with greater confidence you try your hand solo and finish the exercise. You could totally foresee doing this activity on your own. Still craving more, you slice and devour the prosciutto. You and Francis fill the kitchen with heat!

As a women’s shoe buyer for Saks Fifth Avenue, you find the straight male influence is absent from your life. You feel lost without it. When you meet Niko at the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market you instantly detect the masculinity you sought to unearth. From his rugged physique to his musky scent, his essence reassures you that you have found what you miss. Niko graces your shoulder with his solid hand as he speaks your name. This man makes you feel like a woman, particularly as he aggressively negotiates market deals for the wares you desire.

As a well-known CEO of an enterprise headquartered in Manhattan, your face and personality are familiar to people near and far. You’re a Manhattan veteran of sorts. You shield your remaining anonymity by heading off the island for a mini-getaway. Your driver kindly chauffeurs you to the Museum of The Moving Image in Queens, where you meet New York male companion Evan, a young, aspiring film student. Evan knows the museum and is thrilled to tour it in fresh light. You and Evan then position yourselves to watch the sun set from the vantage point of the Socrates Sculpture Park. There, you take in the powerful African, “Queen Mother of Reality” Exhibit and rove the gardens. Evan, a massage guru, rubs your neck and arms and you feel maternal twinges that you’ve missed elsewhere in life. Sweet Evan feels your vibe and rolls along with your personal moving image.

With your hair still molded into a taut bun atop your head and your tote bag still stuffed with scuffed pointe shoes, you dash through the Upper East Side to meet Darren at the Guggenheim Museum. You’re weary from exerting the persistence that seems requisite to succeed as a ballet dancer in New York. It figures that your date is actually set on the heels of yet another impromptu audition for the New York Theatre Ballet repertory ensemble. Fittingly, you two roam into the museum’s wing of Edgar Degas’ Ballet Dancer paintings where Darren asks you, “Do you see yourself in the painting?” He takes a deep interest in your observations of the artwork. He, further, wants your story; did you dance in your childhood? He wants more from you. You give it to him over Angel Hair Pasta at the nearby Vico Ristorante, where you pour out your heart. You get emotional and, at once, agitated by the tight pull of your hair bun. Unveiling your long, beachy curls, you undo your bun and nestle your head into Darren’s shoulder. With your lengthy locks cascading over Darren’s chest you at last feel cozy and comfortable.

Trent is so excited about tomorrow. You meet New York male companion Trent at Chelsea’s Pierre Loti to toast your upcoming departure with him to your aunt & uncle’s four-day family vacation at a French villa. When you take a jaunt up to “Behaviour New York,” a high-end international menswear haberdashery, Trent sees a shirt and tie that he himself had just purchased and will wear in France with you. You beg, “Just, please don’t be so good that I fall for you! I might be already…. I mean, it’s all an act, right?” Steadfast, you proclaim, “I am focused, strong-willed, organized, and, well, in any event, I must pack! My suitcase will not fill itself with bikinis and espadrilles!” You declare. “This meeting is adjourned and I look forward to our upcoming exchange.” You spend your evening convincing yourself that you are far too composed to become smitten with the beautiful person you just met. Despite you efforts, “Bon Voyage.” Your ship has sailed.

You and Trevor both scream in ecstasy; what a rush! After revving your adrenaline engines for a spin, you’re thrilled with the “Taste of the Track” experience offered by the Monticello Motor Club, about ninety minutes outside the City. You drive a sexy race car for a joyride. You take turns sliding in and out of the hatch, clutching the stick, and burning the pavement. Thereafter, breathing a mile-a-minute and gasping for air, you both offer high-fives and return to Manhattan to cool down. Upon finishing your quick dip in the Mandarin Oriental’s pool, you saunter to “A Voce Columbus Circle” to re-fuel. Trevor asks how you feel. You report you’re experiencing that “post-workout” contemplative high, where you’re peaceful and content.

Because you carry the books for a group of Wall Street bonds traders you have a wealth of interactions with men at a frenzied pace. But you want to trade-in for a slower interchange. As you clink champagne glasses with New York male companion Thomas at the candlelit Vintry Wine & Whiskey, you’re already assured Thomas is a cordial, sophisticated gentleman. He seems to be present, rather than rushed, and living in the moment. Phew. You unwind. Thomas skims your side-swept bangs and admires your face. So you gracefully pause your story, creating a quiet moment to absorb his thoughtful gaze. You’re biting your lip and unintentionally looking down while sheer delight overcomes you (admittedly). Restoring your faith that men can take time to appreciate, Thomas companions you toward nearby Battery Park neighborhood, where you enjoy the Waterfront Promenade view and outdoor concert melodies. Worlds away from risky bonds trading, you now feel protected.