Friends Don’t Fuck: If You Do, You’re Lovers, Not Friends
One guy suggested Friends-With-Benefits to me.
Let’s call him Kieran.
I met him at the same teashop that I met all the other guys.
He hugged me when we met, right away.
He was nice-looking, fabulous body. He was sexy and charming.
I kept in touch with him, we messaged from time to time but didn’t meet again for a while, mainly because he kept inviting me over to his house to watch a movie. I said no, not because I wouldn’t have liked to, but because it would have sent the wrong signal.
I liked him very much because he was straightforward about what he wanted.
When I said that I only begin a physical relationship with a man when I am convinced that he values me for the amazing woman that I am, he said:
“I value you.”
We cycled home, he lived nearby. He got off his bike to kiss me goodnight, tenderly.
I met him again just before the New Year. I made the mistake of kissing him after dark while sitting in the window of a coffee shop in my own neighbourhood in full view of passers-by… one of whom could have been one of my own sons or their classmates.
K said that I would get no food at his place, only tea. He seemed unintelligent and my interest began to wane. Why should I accept being friends-with-benefits with a guy in his fifties when I am getting offers of that sort of thing from thirty-something guys… and more recently, twenty-something.
I met him in the park one winter’s day when I was out walking with a girlfriend and he was with his daughter.
Again, he hugged me warmly and introduced me politely.
That was the last time I saw him.
I like this article by Laurie B Meade on Friends With Benefits:
If you’re my friend, please don’t fuck me.thecoffeelicious.com
If you would like to read more of my work, here’s one of my articles on Friends-With-Benefits:
Here’s more from my dating diary: