I was asked a while back to address the issue of The Fuckable Friend. You’ve been friends for years. You tell each other everything. Now it seems like sex could be a fun indoor sport to play with each other. And hey, with winter coming on, don’t we all need more of those?
We’ve all had those friendships — the ones where innuendo comes up far too often for our comfort. But it’s just so darn fun, that innuendo.
I personally have always caused grief in my friendships that way. I really enjoy the toying, but it’s become a problem a few times in the past. It has never worked out, regardless of how great the sex was. (And it always was. Can’t beat “friend sex.”)
The important thing about fucking a friend is this: If it works, are you ready for a commitment?
Fact is, if the sex is on, the friendship is on, then you’ve got no excuse to avoid a commitment, have you? What a great predicament to be in… a fuckworthy friend you can tolerate in the morning. Stop the presses. Ride that ride a while and see where it takes you.
One of the wonderful things about having sex with a friend is that you’ll be able to laugh about it without having to apologize. You have that synergy where you’re both in on the joke. The thing that sex with a friend always tends to offer is the ability to have fun and be intimate simultaneously while fucking.
“Yeah, but isn’t that what having sex is?” Well, most of the time, not really. How many of us can truly say we’ve been involved with our best friend? It’s a pretty rare experience. But sex with friends offers that rare look at true fun intimacy.
If you can get over how fucking weird it is to be schtupping your friend, that is.
Odds are, you’ve had all those great accidental “friend” moments. The bad burps, the stupid things said, the idiocy displayed, the utter humiliation, the total hurt. And it was always okay, easy to handle, ‘cos you were always just friends. It was voluntary.
Now, though… choice is the first thing to go. It becomes obligation, and that can be a real problem. You sit there and think, “Oh, I wouldn’t be that petty.” It ain’t petty, it’s human nature. Few of us are conditioned to like other people having any control over our lives. It’s asking a lot.
Let’s put this simply: It’s really, really, really hard finding good friends… And it’s so fucking easy to lose a lover… But loving a friend can be a truly awesome experience, and sometimes that’s worth the risk.
If you’re gonna take that risk, you need to be able to commit to ‘em if it works out. Otherwise, you’ll not only lose a lover, but a friend. Will I fuck a friend again? Current selection, no. But I wouldn’t rule the behaviour out in the future, either. Will not rule it out.
It’s always been fun, and the friends I’ve lost, well, one is regrettable. The others are still worth a smile. Good people, but expendable. Incredible sex.
There aren’t many friendships able to overcome a not-right-for-a-relationship, but-let’s-still-be-friends foray into fucking. Most of the ones that do try to resume the friendship will invariably realize how strange it has become after the sex. You don’t feel comfortable talking about crushes, you avoid movies with sex scenes in them, you get awkward talking about physical problems. It’s a lesser, less fulfilling version of your old relationship, fraught with stilted strangeness and abbreviated exchanges.
The few and the far between are in fact able to transcend all that shit and become stronger friends as a result of it. What lucky bastards.
Do you fuck your friend? Your call. Your gamble. If you secretly think, “I bet she’d still be fun in five years, and man, I never get sick of hanging around her…” then maybe sex might be the way to get something real started.
Or it might just be a great lay.
Just so long as you know the cost.
I’m sure that if I asked, my wonderful readers could share some of their experiences on the matter with you, as well. Have at ‘im, kids.