So, consider it no surprise that the guy made a really creepy, elegant movie that just doesn't quite understand the way the men and ladies act. He and his wife, Nicole Kidman, flirt with other people. And when she reveals that she almost, nearly did the bone-dance with a Naval officer, Cruise is shocked. He didn't even imagine that his wife enjoyed salami-hopping. This sends Cruise on a spiral, trying to have his own anonymous fucking in retaliation and to calm his insecurities.
Cruise seeks out opportunities during a crawl through an empty and cold midnight Manhattan.
He first fails to do the deed with a slutty hooker, and then he sneaks into a ritzy, private orgy at a mansion outside the city. He's caught as an intruder at this party and his life is threatened. That is, until a hooker who is part of the entertainment sacrifices herself so he may live. Pussy Cruise gets the hell out of there, but he's still curious and explores the seemy skin-crawling sex world of New York. Because of all this, Cruise repents and learns that fidelity to a loved one is not so bad after all.