Then he offered me personally that look—the one which means he’s planning to admit to one thing despicable and blame it on mankind.
“We are typical selfish—we all reside in this Ayn Rand–ish self-centered globe, whether we enjoy it or perhaps not,” he said.
“When you’re in a buddies with benefits situation, you don’t have go directly to the other person’s awful friend’s party. But it causes problems if you behave like that within a conventional relationship.
“With FWB there’s no illusion in regards to the carnal aspect,” he went on, “so you will be actually literal about any of it: you might be two different people who like and respect each other—and you want to fuck. There’s beauty and freedom for the reason that seriously. And you may be playful. It’s possible to have your sex-power persona, you can also have fun with the pig that is super-misogynist or perhaps the bimbo, plus it’s okay, because you’re maybe perhaps not being judged. But in the event that you change that powerful into being a proper relationship, then those games may not appear therefore sexy any longer.”
The cuddles, the juicy dark secrets—minus all of the boring, would-rather-die activities that go hand in hand with commitment, like having to help assemble your boyfriend’s IKEA bed, or having to watch your girlfriend stab at the ingrown hairs on her bikini line while she watches the Kardashians in other words, your fuck buddy gets all the good stuff about being in a relationship—the wild sex. (That’s me—I’m the girlfriend whom does that.)