I've been at work a lot recently (it's a busy time), and insofar as writing about sex is concerned, work's not exactly the best place to get ideas. But every now and again a conversation happens like the following one between four young, female colleagues (I may, or may not, have changed their names as it doesn't particularly matter what they're called; all that matters is that this happened!)
"Are we going to the pub now?" queried Steph, at the end of a long, tiring day.
"Yeah!" chorused three of the girls. ILB, curious, skulked in the background, waiting to go home.
"Uh," interjected Jess. "Sorry, but I have to meet a..." She paused. "A friend."
A giggle ran through the rest of the assembled collective. "Oh, you have, have you?" smirked Lucy. "A friend, eh?"
Jess giggled, a little too late in realising she had done so. "Yeah... a friend."
"He's not...?" asked Lucy, Steph and Tabitha all at the same time."
"He's not a boyfriend!" protested Jess. "He's not."
"So he's a...?" whispered Steph, and all four collapsed into laughter. ILB, totally confused, continued to listen, thankfully unnoticed.
"He's a fuck buddy, then?" said Steph. A little too loudly. In fact, a few heads turned in the direction of the girls at that point. ILB, feeling that he'd better make himself scarce, quitted the scene, an amused grin unfurling on his face. As he walked out of the workplace, bag on back, he heard some more laughter, and could practically feel the residual heat from Jess' face as the cool air hit him outside.