Yes, I Have a FWB. No, I’m Not a Slut

At 2 a.m. on a Saturday night last summer, The Canadian walked into my life. He waited for the creepy guy hovering over me to head to the bar, and then he slipped right in as he said, “You’re the prettiest girl here, why are you talking to him?”

At 6’4″ with piercing blue eyes and a full head of great hair, I couldn’t believe he was interested in me. All those vodka lemonades I had couldn’t either.

“Well, he’s buying me a drink right now,” I replied, as my friend gave me the who-is-that look with a wow smile. I winked in return.

This was originally published on Women’s Health online. To read the rest, click here

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5 thoughts on “Yes, I Have a FWB. No, I’m Not a Slut

  1. I was in a VERY serious relationship (read: ENGAGED) with a girl who was adamant that it all did not mean much and that she just liked sex.

    She knew I was waiting for marriage, and at that point in time, specifically for marriage with her. She LOVED the fact that I was a virgin. And she knew that I did not hold her sexual history against her. I just wanted it to STAY history. Not too much to ask, I thought.

    History crept in in unexpected ways…“ghosts of orgasms past” intruded in a variety of locations while out and about…a wistful smile while driving by, accompanied (unprompted) by a recounting of everything that occurred. In graphic detail. (Things that make you go hmmm.) I would nod and smile and change the subject.

    Then we would meet one on the street, practically drooling as he gazed at her, remembering her naked.
    Ahem? Hello? We ARE to be married soon. Step back and wipe your chin.

    Then there were the couple of guys who would be happy to provide me with naked pics of my intended, if I weren’t, you know, busy respecting her.

    Then there were those that were sad for me, because THEIR sex with her was fantastic while I would be just a beginner and they could give me pointers about where her sweet spot was. Just ask, they said. At this point in time, I was seriously thinking that their dentist could use a vacation in Hawaii, and that I could provide the work for said dentist.

    Just ask.

    Then there were the “dinners” and “lunches” with “old friends”. Would these be FWB friends?
    And do they STILL hold that title? I asked.

    Her response: “It should not matter who she gave her body to as long as her heart still belonged to me.”

    For the record? It did matter.

    That relationship ended. But it did play out like that with more than one girl.

    And the woman I eventually married had a sexual history from a young age, and a few friends with benefits. She was actually genuinely surprised when I gave her orgasms. Kind of insulting, I thought. We’re divorced now. But not before she informed me that she only wanted my virtue.

    If you both love each other (and I an TRULY looking forward to making love with someone who actually loves me) then THAT would be the ULTIMATE aphrodisiac.

    All this has re-enforced my original conclusion that sex is easy. It is LOVE that is hard.

    THAT should be obvious.

    So I focus my efforts on LOVE…while I wait until marriage for sex. Again.

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