Since the failure of her dates with The Separated Dad and The Entrepreneur, it’s been a while since Lucy got any bedroom action, and she’s starting to feel a little twitchy. So she decides to see if Adam, her new Friend With Benefits, might be willing to offer his services a second time.
Happily, it turns out that Adam’s sex life is currently just as barren as Lucy’s, so they swiftly get another date in the diary for him to drive up from Southampton and spend the night. Lucy’s pretty fucking excited. Finally she’s going to get a very much-needed seeing to after what feels like an eternity without any human contact.
The day quickly rolls round and everything looks promising. Adam texts her a cheery good morning and tells her he’s aiming to leave Southampton around 11 am, and traffic permitting he should be with her around lunchtime. Lucy’s delighted – a whole afternoon of fun times with Adam and his amazing body is just what the doctor ordered. She asks him to text when he’s leaving so she knows what time to expect him, and sets about tidying the flat, and herself, in preparation for his arrival.
But 11 am comes and goes, and then 11.30, and then 12 pm, with no word, and Lucy starts to get anxious. Did he change his mind? Is he going to cancel on her, or worse, simply not show up? Did his grandma (whether real or fictitious) have another fall? Lucy has no idea. The problem is, she simply doesn’t know what to expect. She doesn’t know Adam well, she’s not his girlfriend, so she doesn’t know what he’s thinking or what his typical behaviour might be. Add to this her tendency to crazily overthink and expect the worst, and you have a recipe for some pretty mental mind-fuckery right there.
In an attempt to ease the anxiety she sends him a cheery message asking how he’s getting on. But it remains unread, which only makes matters worse. Maybe he’s already on his way and has had a crash? Or maybe he just forgot to text and is just fucking driving, FFS! She calls him, but it goes to voicemail. Is he flaking on her and screening her calls? Lucy doesn’t want to panic, but he did say he’d be with her by lunchtime, and it’s now almost 1 pm and there’s been no word.
Lucy almost hopes he has been in a crash, because at least he’d have a valid reason. If he’s just being flaky then she’s going to be really fucking pissed off.
Finally, at just after 1 pm, he calls. He’s just about to leave, he says, and will be there by 3.30 pm. He doesn’t offer any kind of explanation or apology, and although Lucy is heartily relieved that he’s still alive and isn’t cancelling on her, she does wonder what he was up to that made him disappear for TWO FUCKING HOURS. But she can’t show him she’s cross (it’s not, apparently, the best way to make a man want to get naked with you), so she puts on her best cheery voice, wishes him a safe journey, and then goes to have a shower and get dressed.
Yesterday was Adam’s birthday, and Lucy wonders if she ought to have got him something. It’s tricky, because Lucy’s new to the FWB dynamic and doesn’t know what the rules are. Should she have got him a small gift? She decides not. She barely knows the guy after all, and they’re not a couple. Plus he’s getting sex – that can be his birthday present. She briefly toys with the idea of answering the door in just her underwear with a ribbon tied round her, but vetos it on the grounds that (a) it’s too much like a girlfriend move, (b) it’s entirely undignified for a grown woman in her late 30s, and (c) the only ribbon she can find is that skinny plasticky stuff they sell for tying up Christmas presents, which would hardly have the desired impact anyway.
Instead, she goes to the supermarket and buys ingredients to make sausages and mash for a birthday dinner, and eggs, muffins and smoked salmon for post-sex breakfast, plus two bottles of prosecco, and beer. Then she returns home and puts on her sexiest underwear – a bright red push-up bra with matching knickers – over which she throws floaty black harem pants and a black t-shirt. No point in making too much effort deciding what to wear since she’s pretty sure the clothes won’t be staying on for long.
If nothing else, she thinks to herself, I am a fucking grade A hostess. I just hope Adam realises how lucky he is.
At around 3 pm he arrives and she buzzes him in. As he strides up the stairs she feels a little flutter of nerves and excitement, though she can’t help being a touch disappointed to see that he’s still sporting the new beard – she’d rather been hoping he might’ve thought better of the terrible idea and got rid of it by now. Ah well, going to have to keep gently working on that one, she thinks.
This time there’s a full-on snog at the top of the stairs (this beard is still going to take some getting used to), but before he can get too carried away, she pulls him inside the flat and offers him a drink.
He asks for tea, and while she puts the kettle on Lucy wonders if she can still get cracking on the prosecco without him.
She doesn’t get a chance to find out. Clearly the two-hour drive has built up Adam’s anticipation, because before the kettle has even boiled he pushes her up against the worktop and is kissing her on the mouth and neck with vigorous determination while grinding his crotch into hers. Seconds later her top and bra are on the floor, and he’s enthusiastically massaging her breasts.
So much for the matching underwear, thinks Lucy. Honestly I don’t know why I bother.
“Let’s put you up here,” Adam commands, and lifts her up so she’s sitting on the worktop, her back against the wall cupboards. Lucy’s actually always had a bit of a fantasy about being taken, hard, on the kitchen counter, but it turns out that as with so many fantasies, the reality is not actually terribly practical or comfortable. The space between the edge of the worktop and the wall cupboards is not very big, so she keeps nearly sliding off, and on top of this, the kitchen window has no curtains, so Lucy is acutely aware that should any of her neighbours across the street happen to look over this way, they’re going to get a fairly eye-catching view of their respectable single lady neighbour being fucked in her respectable single lady kitchen by an entirely unrespectable hot young man.
Lucy quickly revises the fantasy so that next time she either keeps her top on or buys new curtains.
“The neighbours can see in!” she wails, nodding towards the window, and Adam pauses the kissing and fondling for a second and looks to see what she’s talking about. For a second Lucy wonders if he’s going to turn out to be one of those people who gets excited by the idea of strangers watching, but instead he takes her by both ankles, hooks her legs round his waist, and picks her up off the counter to carry her through to the bedroom.
In films this sort of move looks so sexy and elegant, but in real life that’s far from being the case. Lucy’s fairly tall and weighs nearly 70 kg, so although Adam’s pretty buff, it’s still an effort for him to lift her. His journey out of the kitchen, across the hallway and into the bedroom is more of a stagger than a walk, while Lucy, who has always been a little self-conscious about her weight, tries to think light thoughts, which isn’t easy when you’re being lugged like a sack of potatoes and bumped against every available wall and door frame on the way through.
Fortunately in spite of the struggle he manages to make it without dropping her and dumps her unceremoniously on the bed. He then swiftly removes her trousers and knickers in one go before taking off his own clothes and joining her, kissing and stroking her. Lucy’s thrilled to see that he’s more than ready to go, and that he’s just as blessed in the downstairs department as she remembers.
“God I love your hot little body,” he murmurs, and in that moment all his past misdemeanours, whatever they may have been (Lucy can’t even remember now) are forgiven. Right now all she can focus on is that she has a super hot guy with a perfect body in her bed, who’s completely taking charge and appears to want her desperately. Nothing else matters.
In fact, Adam appears to want her so badly that he’s not prepared to wait any longer. A quick, fairly perfunctory fumble down below, and then without further ado, and without a condom, he’s inside her in one determined thrust. It’s actually a bit too quick for Lucy, who’s not sure she’s quite ready yet.
“Oh…” she squeaks. “Maybe we should, um, warm me up a bit more first?”
But Adam’s not stopping now. “Oh but you feel SO good,” he assures her. “I like it when you’re not quite warm yet anyway.”
But does Lucy? Actually she’d prefer a little more foreplay, but she doesn’t mind too much. After all, she does love it when a man takes charge, and makes it clear that he wants her, and Adam really is very sexy, and does have a perfect cock, which Lucy is only too happy to have inside her.
Of rather more concern is the no-protection thing. While she’s quite sure she and Adam would have stunningly beautiful babies together, she’s definitely not ready for that sort of commitment yet. And of course, although he seems like a nice guy, she really has no idea what – or who – else he’s getting up to when she’s not around. So she stops him, and makes him get up and get a condom. As he bends to reach one from the drawer she again clocks his perfect bum – honey-coloured, hairless, and ripe and round like the walking embodiment of the peach emoji – and she gives herself a mental high-five. Not bad, Lucy, not bad at all.
With the required protection now in place he rejoins her, using his fingers to play with her until she’s done, and then, impatient now, thrusts back in and is finished in about six strokes.
He lies back, breathing heavily, and Lucy again tries not to feel too disappointed. It was all over far too quickly, as far as she’s concerned. She loved the connection with him, feeling him hard inside her, and definitely wanted him there for WAY longer. But it’s ok, she thinks. We’ve got the whole afternoon, we can definitely have another go later.
They lie together for a while, cuddling and not talking, and Lucy relaxes. This is arguably the best part, she thinks, just being with someone, naked, touching and connected. It’s probably the thing she misses most about being single, and being there with Adam, who will never be The One, makes her feel slightly sad. He’s a great guy, for sure, but lying there, not talking, makes her remember why she ended their relationship in the first place: they just didn’t have enough to say to each other. And now that the sex is over, she’s not really sure what to do with him.
“Shall we go for a walk?” she eventually suggests.
To the pub
They throw their clothes back on and head down the road to the nearest pub – a slightly tired establishment that Lucy’s actually never been inside before (she usually walks straight past it to head to one of the fancier gastropubs because Lucy is so terribly middle-class). The place is empty apart from three or four geezers perched at the bar, who all turn their heads to stare at them as they walk in, order drinks and nachos, and then settle in a corner booth, holding hands.
“I don’t normally come to this pub,” she tells him. It’s a bit more ‘old-man’ pub than I’m used to, I normally go to one of the nicer ones a bit further down the road.”
“You’re far too gorgeous for this place, babe,” Adam says, and Lucy, while flattered by the compliment, slightly baulks at being called ‘babe’. But with the wine warming her up nicely she doesn’t care too much; all she really cares about is how quickly they can finish their drinks so she can take him home and get him naked again.
“I wonder what those old men would think if they knew that less than an hour ago I was straddling you naked,” she whispers, in what she hopes is a seductive voice.
“And you will be again, just as soon as I can get you back,” Adam replies, and Lucy grins and takes another swig of her wine.
“They’re probably totally jealous that I get to be with you,” he continues.
“That’s sweet, but they’re not really my type!” Lucy laughs.
“No, they wouldn’t be right for you at all!”
“So who would, do you think?” she asks him. “What sort of man would be perfect for me?”
He studies her for a second. “Hmmm…” he thinks aloud. “He needs to be intelligent, well-educated. Tall. Not necessarily ripped but in good shape. Driven but not necessarily rich – you don’t really care about money – but he needs to be ambitious and successful at what he does. And confident, quite a dominant character – you need an equal who will stand up to you.”
Lucy’s impressed by how well Adam appears to have her figured out even though they haven’t known each other that long. Maybe there is more to him after all…?
But then, just when Lucy’s starting to feel pretty happy and comfortable, Adam gets a text. He looks at his phone and swears.
“What?” asks Lucy.
“I wasn’t supposed to be at work until lunchtime tomorrow, which is why I was going to stay the night, but now apparently someone has called in sick so they’ve changed my shift. I’m going to have to go home tonight after all.”
Lucy’s gutted. Yet again her hopes for cuddles and morning sex have been dashed – last time because he was sick, and now this. Clearly the universe does not want Lucy to wake up next to a handsome man, EVER. She vaguely waggles her fist at the morning sex gods, who clearly have it in for her.
“Well in that, case,” she tells him, we’d better make the most of the next few hours before you need to leave!” and Adam agrees, so they finish their drinks and head back to hers, where, since Adam is going to have to drive home, she finally gets round to making that long-overdue cup of tea.
They settle on the sofa, and Lucy, keen to enjoy every second of the precious few moments they have left, puts her hand up under his shirt and starts stroking his chest and kissing his neck, before moving her hand downwards. She unzips his fly and puts her hand inside, but it’s rather awkward: with the crease in his jeans tight against his bulging crotch, she can’t really move her hand much and the rubbing is rather ineffectual. Again, she thinks, something they never seem to have to worry about in the movies! So, undeterred, she gets up, helps him remove his jeans and underwear, and then kneels on the floor between his knees and prepares to give him the treatment that all the boys love.
But once down there, she hesitates. He didn’t have a shower after the first time, so she knows exactly where he’s been, and the idea totally grosses her out. Will it taste disgusting? She has no idea, but she’s pretty much committed now, so she’s going to have to follow through. No backing out now!
So she steels herself for the worst and dives in anyway… and actually it’s fine. No dodgy flavour issues, and he really does have the sort of package that’s just asking to be licked and sucked, so Lucy is only too happy to oblige. And she happily carries on obliging until Adam indicates that he’s ready for more direct action.
Clothes swiftly hit the floor, he grabs another condom, and she prepares to straddle him, but as she is about to do so she realises that the living room also faces out onto the street, and that from this position she can see directly across to the neighbours on the other side of the road. Which means, of course, that having seen Lucy being groped in the kitchen, they’re now probably enjoying watching her about to be fucked in the living room. Which is probably not so good for community relations.
Happily, unlike the kitchen, the living room has curtains – if only Lucy can get up to draw them without being observed. Since she’s now naked, this involves a rather inelegant sort of bend-and-crouch technique, as she approaches the window from the side, ineffectually attempting to hide behind the dining table to avoid giving any onlookers a full frontal as she loosens the tiebacks and pulls the curtains across, with Adam watching amusedly from the sofa.
Curtains now successfully drawn, she rejoins him, and he swiftly flips her over and fucks her enthusiastically until he’s done, in what again seems to Lucy to be a disappointingly short amount of time.
But it’s ok, she thinks, it’ll be my turn now.
Except it isn’t, because now that Adam’s had his fill he seems to lose interest, and simply relaxes and lies still.
“Hey, I’m not done with you yet!” she whispers breathily, in what she hopes is an alluring manner.
She takes his hand and guides it in the direction she’d like it to go, and he makes a half-arsed attempt to join in, rubbing lamely and without much enthusiasm for a short while before giving up again.
“You should do it, you’re so much better at this than me,” he tells her.
“There’s always time to learn,” Lucy replies, encouragingly.
“But you’re so sensitive, I don’t want to rub too hard.”
“Then don’t!” she suggests, and then, more hopefully, “You could always use your tongue instead?”
But Adam is even less interested in this idea. “I’ve got to drive back later,” he tells her. “I don’t want you in my beard all the way home.”
Doesn’t want her in his beard? How fucking rude!
Lucy is starting to get annoyed with his excuses now. “You can wash, you know. I do have water and soap.”
“It’s not enough, “ Adam replies. “It takes two showers to get it out!”
WTAF? Is this guy for real?! No one makes THAT much mess!! What does he think she’s going to do – unleash a gushing torrent all over him?!
“Are you kidding me?” she asks him. “You were fine last time.”
“But that’s because I was staying here and could have a shower in the morning!”
“But you washed your face and then came back and kissed me and it was absolutely fine! And you kissed me in the morning and there was no problem at all! I’d have noticed, you know how I feel about beards!”
“No really,” he insists, more firmly now. “It takes ages to get it all out and I don’t want to drive home for two hours with all that in my beard.”
With all WHAT in his beard? It’s not like she’s going to pour tar or glue on him, or massage his face with garlic butter!
“You make it sound like there’s going to be a huge mess!” Lucy is mortified. “Nothing happens – there really isn’t anything! Certainly far less than what guys come out with!”
But he’s not budging, and Lucy has gone from feeling sexy and desired to feeling gross and rejected. Even though she’s absolutely certain that this is just a pathetic excuse not to give back. And if it’s not, then it’s yet another reason why Lucy fucking hates beards and everyone who has one.
“Ok fine,” she gives up. “Just use your fingers then.” And so he reluctantly rubs half-heartedly a little longer and then gives up entirely.
Lucy’s super frustrated. “Oh wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?!” she wails.
“What?!” says Adam.
“It’s Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet. What satisfaction canst thou have tonight? The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.”
FML, she thinks. I can’t believe I’m quoting fucking Shakespeare to a guy who is too selfish to touch me now he’s had what he came for.
Of course, Lucy’s not remotely interested in exchanging her love’s faithful vow for Adam’s. But she would really fucking like an orgasm – something apparently she’s not going to get any time soon.
But maybe he’s just tired after his, she thinks. Some guys do just seem to pass out for a bit afterwards. Perhaps if she feeds him dinner he’ll come round, and then maybe then she’ll get her turn.
So Lucy gets up and goes to the kitchen, and more or less in silence they work together to peel and boil potatoes, grill sausages, and make mash and onion gravy. But of course, after he’s eaten he’s really full, and has lost all interest in her. So that’s the end of that then. FML, she thinks again.
There’s not much left to say. It’s now 8.30 pm, and Adam decides he needs to head back so he’s not home too late. Since he clearly actually checked out about two hours ago, there’s no point trying to persuade him to stay, so she quietly lets him go. At least, she thinks, I’ll get a good night’s sleep, and I have loads of awesome brunch stuff for the morning. Silver linings, and all that.
A quick kiss goodbye at the door and then he’s gone, leaving Lucy feeling rejected and decidedly underwhelmed. But more than anything she feels pissed off. Yes, he made the effort to drive all this way, but she made so much more effort: hair and makeup, best underwear, bought him drinks and nachos in the pub, two rounds of sex including oral, and cooked him dinner. The whole thing, on reflection, feels pretty one-sided. But then, she supposes, that’s what you get with a fuck buddy. He came here to fuck, and that’s what he did. Lucy figures she can’t really complain. And at least she got some naked time with THAT BODY, so it could be an awful lot worse.
But will she see him again? She’s undecided. It’s not like she has any other options right now, and there was lots about the afternoon that she enjoyed very much, so if he asks, maybe she will.
Just as long as she can persuade him so shave off that awful beard.