My Lover, My Friend ... With Benefits
"Friends are friends, pals are pals and buddies sleep together.
" An unknown person, perhaps of questionable moral standards to the hypocrites and closet-kittens within and among us, proliferated this time-honoured adage.
And we're not talking about an alcohol-induced momentary lapse of concentration.
Oh no! We're talking about a "booty call" or a "friends with benefits" arrangement - an agreement between friends to have sex, when nature calls, without the drama of a romantic relationship.
This is an agreement of carnal convenience that promises uninhibited, great sex minus the trappings and emotional roller coaster ride of a high maintenance love relationship.
Obviously, a guy invented it! And in the noughties where a slow but steady resurgence of the swinging 60's is bringing free love back to the fore, I find myself coming across the subject in personal blogs, late night television commercials, and not surprisingly, dinner table conversations among Gen-Yers, Gen-Xers and Baby-Boomer friends alike.
In fact, I need only observe a male friend's recent "juggling act" and clandestine dalliances with, let's just say, several "girlfriends", to know it inevitably comes to an all-too-predictable end: he enjoys it for what it is and she (and in this case - they) secretly plans the wedding.
And while I remain amused and entertained by this live comedy of sorts unfold before my eyes (after all, social voyeurism is now an acceptable pastime), I secretly wish of throttling the girls just enough for them to gasp for air and suck up the stench of their matrimonial dreams in decay.
My shyster friend's questionable forays, however, do not constitute a "friends with benefits" arrangement - each girl thinks they're in a relationship! And that's where the problem lies.
Women are genetically pre-disposed to attaching emotionally after a good tango.
Ladies, let's face it, more often than not, we set our hearts in motion when we're on fire.
Add "regularity" to the mix and we have an explosive recipe of love and sex intermingle where they should not.
On the other hand, who says only men crave for an occasional no-strings roll in the hay? And what about the lies we tell? We lie about our age, weight, height, hair colour, pay, and many other things just as often as we lie about our real intentions.
So watch out with those hidden motives.
This is certainly not the way to make the man (or the woman) you secretly fancy fall for you.
Then there's the friendship issue.
Are you ruining a perfectly good bottle of Bordeaux by mixing it up into a relationship cocktail in the boudoir? So it begs the question: just who exactly benefits in a "friends with benefits" relationship? Ladies, the only appealing thing about it: we don't have to fake it! If you ask me, I'd rather go shopping.
" An unknown person, perhaps of questionable moral standards to the hypocrites and closet-kittens within and among us, proliferated this time-honoured adage.
And we're not talking about an alcohol-induced momentary lapse of concentration.
Oh no! We're talking about a "booty call" or a "friends with benefits" arrangement - an agreement between friends to have sex, when nature calls, without the drama of a romantic relationship.
This is an agreement of carnal convenience that promises uninhibited, great sex minus the trappings and emotional roller coaster ride of a high maintenance love relationship.
Obviously, a guy invented it! And in the noughties where a slow but steady resurgence of the swinging 60's is bringing free love back to the fore, I find myself coming across the subject in personal blogs, late night television commercials, and not surprisingly, dinner table conversations among Gen-Yers, Gen-Xers and Baby-Boomer friends alike.
In fact, I need only observe a male friend's recent "juggling act" and clandestine dalliances with, let's just say, several "girlfriends", to know it inevitably comes to an all-too-predictable end: he enjoys it for what it is and she (and in this case - they) secretly plans the wedding.
And while I remain amused and entertained by this live comedy of sorts unfold before my eyes (after all, social voyeurism is now an acceptable pastime), I secretly wish of throttling the girls just enough for them to gasp for air and suck up the stench of their matrimonial dreams in decay.
My shyster friend's questionable forays, however, do not constitute a "friends with benefits" arrangement - each girl thinks they're in a relationship! And that's where the problem lies.
Women are genetically pre-disposed to attaching emotionally after a good tango.
Ladies, let's face it, more often than not, we set our hearts in motion when we're on fire.
Add "regularity" to the mix and we have an explosive recipe of love and sex intermingle where they should not.
On the other hand, who says only men crave for an occasional no-strings roll in the hay? And what about the lies we tell? We lie about our age, weight, height, hair colour, pay, and many other things just as often as we lie about our real intentions.
So watch out with those hidden motives.
This is certainly not the way to make the man (or the woman) you secretly fancy fall for you.
Then there's the friendship issue.
Are you ruining a perfectly good bottle of Bordeaux by mixing it up into a relationship cocktail in the boudoir? So it begs the question: just who exactly benefits in a "friends with benefits" relationship? Ladies, the only appealing thing about it: we don't have to fake it! If you ask me, I'd rather go shopping.
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