Friends With Benefits

So, did you ever have a guy (assuming you’re a girl in this little scenario, or gay, whichever side of the road you ‘walk’ on, matters not to me) that you’re buddies with – almost in a brotherly sort of way, yet not. Know what I mean? You get along in some weird, cosmic way that makes you perfect for each other, except there’s no romance involved. Yes, it can happen! Either one of you is attached, or you’re such good friends you don’t want to ruin things by licking each other in inconspicuous places … but for whatever reason, you never let the thought of fucking his brains out enter your mind … until you did?

Ok a little background first. When I moved to Portland 3 years ago, there’s a guy I instantly clicked with in a totally platonic sort of way. (For the sake of this story we’ll call him "Krull the Warrior King.") He’s hot, big time hot, but at the time I met him he had a girlfriend, so the subject of us having hot sticky sex never came up. He worked at the law firm I started working for when I moved out here. Being that I knew next to nothing about the area, or Oregon law for that matter, he was nice enough to help me get acclimated to my new surroundings. We didn’t spend much time together out of work, as he was almost always with his girlfriend. I had just split with my husband back in PA before moving out here so I didn’t have a boyfriend, and at the time that was just fine with me. I’d been with my ex for the previous 13 years and was happy just doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted for a while. Besides, being 30-something and newly single, there wasn’t a whole lot to choose from in the good-looking, intelligent, sexy, funny, financially stable (no not rich, just not broke) department.

So, to cut to the chase, he and his girlfriend split up a few months back. She was "suffocating the ever-loving fuck out of me," was his explanation as to why. Since then he’s been living the single life, having fun with his friends, doing the stuff all guys do when they suddenly find themselves without a lecture and/or consequences for anything they do. Life’s a party for a while.

One Friday night recently, I was having the day from hell at work – in fact it took ‘day from hell’ to a whole new level that I wasn’t sure I or my blood pressure could take. Be it fate, coincidence or just random pot luck, I ran into Krull on the way out of the office. I barely acknowledged him because I was too busy silently cursing my boss, his boss, the file clerk, some guy from the coffee shop downstairs who did nothing but ask me how my day was. I barked that I was on my way out to ‘get hammered,’ so he decided to come along just because he loves to laugh at me when I get this upset. So, we go down the road to a bar, toss back a couple beers, watch the Blazers game, and after a while I finally calmed and decided to head home. Wouldn’t ya know it, my car wouldn’t start. I think smoke actually came out of my ears, I was so pissed off. I tried screaming and kicking it into submission, but no dice. So, I had had it by then and just left the car there – Krull drove me home. He wanted to catch the end of the Blazers game, so he asked to hang out a bit at my place to watch it. This was followed by the customary panic attack – you now the one girls, when someone’s coming over unexpectedly and as fate dictates the place is a messy shithole and you’re so embarrassed you want to die. Even though it really wasn’t that big a deal, most females are wired that way. I’m Type A and I’m proud.

I wasn’t in the mood to stop drinking. And of course any normal guy can’t be outstaged or outdrank by a girl, so he was up for more too. I broke out the bottle of Goldschlager I keep on hand or just such an ‘emergency,’ and we started poundin shots. After a few of those I soon forgot all about the horrendous day I’d had – Krull was serving as the entertainment after the game was over, by imitating people at work we hate, and were basically laughing our asses off at anything and everything, havin a blast. Next thing you know, when I was on my way to the kitchen to get some water, he came up behind me, threw me up against the wall and started kissing me. OMFG it was so hot I can’t even begin to tell you – I think my heart was pounding so hard it bounced out of my chest and halfway down the street. In seconds we were ripping each other’s clothes off, he bent me over and I was yelling "fuck me harder!" The next couple hours were a blur, but not because of the alcohol – I remember us fucking on the couch, the kitchen counter, and I think the bathtub was involved at some point, because that’s where I found him when I woke up in the morning. We both were smelly, hung over and not sure what to make of the previous night’s activities, and he left pretty quickly.

Most of that day I just kind of laid (hehe I said laid :op) around, completely dumbfounded by what had happened. Had we crossed the line? Would this fucking fuck up our friendship? Would we become a ‘couple’ and if so would that completely change the dynamics of our relationship, for the worse? By Saturday night I was a complete basket case, so I drank some more and spent the night listening to my old heavy metal collection – Metallica, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest and some Sabbath.

He called me on Sunday, and apologized for not calling me the day before, said he just "felt a little weird." At this point my over-analyzing self-torture ritual had run its course and I was ready to tackle the awkward silence that followed this comment. I told him, "Hey, let’s not get worked up about this. We fucked, it was really hot, but neither of us are ready to get into anything too serious right now. Let’s just take it as it comes, and whatever happens happens." I could literally feel the release of air come out of my phone as he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God, I thought you were gonna go Becky on me." (Becky’s his ex, and from what I was told could go through 20 different emotions in a span of less than 10 minutes.)

So, luckily, things pretty much went back to normal. We went to work, I did my thing, he did his. We were still friends. We had survived!! Do they make t-shirts for this sort of thing? Ya know, like "I survived the Serpent Roller Coaster" or some shit like that. Of course, every time I saw him now, in the back of my mind was the memory (blurry though it was) of the hot sex we had. Did he think it too? Shit, of course he did, I rocked that boy’s world :op

We’ve done it twice more since then. So far, it’s been casual, smokin hot, and completely non-committal, just the way we both want it. We don’t ask too many questions, we don’t have unrealistic expectations. We’ve apparently evolved into "friends with benefits." I’m lovin’ this!!!