Beautiful, depraved

Intimacy. Debauchery. Irreverence.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

To fuckbuddy or not fuckbuddy


I'm torn on this issue.

I prefer to: 1) fall in love or 2) have flings (contained arrangements, often induced by travel) or 3) spend my time creatively.

Overall, I prefer depth and purpose in my fucking. The sex is better and it's harnessed toward something. Empty sex bores me. Each person ought to be seduced to some degree, seduced enough to succumb.

I tend to be more of a one-time-only fuckbuddyist, since I find that while the thrill may be there for me once, it rarely lives on. I tend to pick men up and drop them quickly. Or I have flings I suppose, inspired by frequent travel. It's easy to encapsulate the best of the person for a short time and ignore their coke habit, lack of money, drive or intelligence. I like to fall in love for a few days or a week and then exit. It could be argued that I'm not really in love, but I'll argue back that at its essence, love is opening myself to someone.

Unless the person is exceedingly beautiful.

I like pretty things. I like them around me and I like them in me. The only fuckbuddy I've ever kept around for any length of time was: 1) Adonis-like in beauty, 2) could fuck me very, very hard, 3) had marathon regeneration power. Clearly, a keeper. At least for his physical offerings.

Said fuckbuddy has been calling and texting relentlessly for the past 18 months - since I told him I was involved with someone and wouldn't be participating in our sporadic rendezvous. He didn't believe me; I've never really said no to him. I've flown into town at 3am and met him at my place at 4. We simply had to collide bodies.

For months I've ignored his pleas. Until now. I felt excited to hear his voice, a slight leap in my chest and my groin. The thing I would struggle with is the urge to let myself fall and resisting it. Wanting to kiss him but denying myself. Knowing how nourished I want to be mind, emotions and body and feeling very little of that be acknowledged.

I've been imagining him on top of me, tasting his skin, his sweat, and the feel of his cock in my throat. I've been craving throatfucking lately even more than fucking fucking. It's the intensity I think. The eye-watering, suffocating, obliterating intensity of it.

I read somewhere that a fuckbuddy is just a really shitty relationship. Maybe. At least if it's honest, it has more on a lot of relationships I've seen. However, if it's something else I really am craving, then to be discriminating would say that I'm wasting my time. I told him this. He offered to be friends. I'm pretty sure his hope is that at some point during our 'friendship' my guard will be lowered and I'll be face down on the bed with my panties lowered as well. And I might enjoy playing with that tension for a while.

I think I will see him when he next comes into town.

** After writing this post I realized that 'fucking with a purpose' has been done before, albeit with a different perspective. See? We are all one.


Photo: unknown (via)

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