Pity Fucks - A Field Guide
Ah the pity fuck. A notorious event onto which much side eye and aspersion has historically been heaped. Many people have opinions on the pity fuck and whether or not it would be good to participate in one, but have you ever met anyone who claimed to have performed one? More importantly, have you ever cracked an eyelid some magical morning, examined the person lying next to you, and felt the suspicion creep slowly over you that maybe you yourself had just unwittingly received an allotment of your partner's sexual largess?
#askingforafriend? Of course you are. Tell your friend to read on.
Identifying a pity fuck can be difficult. This field guide will take a practical approach, to help you identify them in the wild. Let's begin by examining the following example:
Let us say you find yourself hosting a friend from school who is in town for the weekend. You remember having a vague crush on said friend when you were younger and more foolish (middle school era, let's say), and it's been fun to flirt with him a little as adults, on the occasional, reunion style get-togethers you throw for your schoolmates who live in your city; but the sands of time and the fact that he's been married for almost all the years since graduation have long since desiccated any longing you ever felt for him in your loins.
On your most recent get-together you are blithely caravanning through this thoroughly Saharan and totally platonic landscape when the following circumstances occur:
SchoolFriend Eggplant spends all day inexpertly insinuating that he'd like to examine your birthday suit. He (purposefully, you will imagine) gets too drunk to drive home, so you offer him your couch. Once everyone else has left you continue to sit on said couch for an absurdly long time, drinking additional scotches and sharing secrets including: the fact that he has no post-divorce game and does not understand dating apps; the fact that both of your hearts were most recently (his, very recently) broken in shockingly similar ways; the fact that he has an incredibly abbreviated amount of sexual experience.
The Main Event
Wherein we attempt identification by examining what happens next. Which is the following:
He whines and pouts about having to put the sheets on the couch. You look at him for a longish while, considering all the stuff he has said, and agree to let his drunk ass sleep in bed with drunk you, having instructed him that you are just going to sleep, but knowing in your heart that you are opening an avenue for him to convince you otherwise. And in fact, SchoolFriend Eggplant will snuggle up next to you, and (surprise! who could have predicted this!) will get hella handsy. After an undetermined period of not totally inexpert ministrations, you go ahead and fuck him.
In developing the definition of a pity fuck we will use in this guide, I consulted my favorite attorney and Best friend, Bestie Eggplant, who offered the following, by phone:
a pity fuck is when you're like I'm not doing anything else right now, so sure go ahead we might as well, but this will never happen again, and also, I'm not putting any actual effort in, and you're doing all the work.
That seemed pretty close. However it lacked the important the idea that you are taking pity on the person, offering him some booty the way you might offer a Twizzler to a crying child on the street. Don't cry, sad man, please accept these orgasms.
Adding that in, we can define a pity fuck to be:
A sexual encounter in which one party takes pity on the second party (or parties), and delivers some measure of sexual largess with an attitude of "I'm not doing anything else right now, so sure, we might as well;" and with the intention that it will be a one-off type occurrence; and without the intention of exerting any actual effort; leaving all such exertions up to the second, pitied party.
Did the event in our example meet the criteria just described to qualify as a pity fuck? In order to determine this, we must examine your...ugh, fine, MY, this is a story that happened to me, happy? my, examine my motives.
Exhibit A: Decision making
Factoring into my decision to allow him to into my bed, knowing as I did that he def wanted to bang after all these dumb hints he'd been dropping all day were the following:
1. the new knowledge that he'd slept with all of four people, ever, which is certainly impressive and maybe a little sad, but also holds a certain type of appeal,
1a. He seemed to feel kinda sheepish and sad about it though
2. the fact I could see he had cultivated an image of me in his mind as some sort of sexual oracle, possessed of all manner of mysterious skills and abilities I might bestow on any worthy supplicants
2a. the fact that I do indeed know all types of skills and maneuvers I was pretty sure
he'd never heard of
3. Sex is fun.
3a. it does seem sortof sad to have such unbroadened horizons
3b. I mean...I could probably help with that
Exhibit B: Original intent
I had originally intended just to fall asleep, and not to blow his mind with my sexual dynamism and what not, because it seemed a little gross and calculating to agree to bone him just because he was all "please? Teach me!" and not because I was feeling any actual, you know, attraction to him.
It wasn't until we were snuggled up together that he was able to turn me on enough (so I mean, it's not like he had no game) to get me to be like, yeah, why not, lets do this thing.
Exhibit C: Implementation
I do confess that though I did whip out some of my medium-good sex tricks, I found it kinda hard to want to put TOO much effort in, cause, I mean. I just wasn't that into him.
Summary of Facts and Evidence:
-Presence of Pity
-Absence of organic attraction
-Presence of arousal, legitimately produced by SchoolFriend and his dextrous manipulations
-Attitude describable as "Meh, fuckit"
-Lack of general enthusiasm resulting in minimal effort exerted
Congratulations! You have learned how to identify a pity fuck in the wild.
But what comes next?
As with any new, advanced sexual adventuring, always be sure to keep your eyes open and proceed with caution - it is easy to get blindsided by sticky (heh) situations it can be difficult to extract yourself from.
If you fail to properly identify a pity fuck (See chapter 1) before you get to banging, you may semi-accidentally distribute one before you realize what you are doing; leaving yourself no time to prepare for the pitfalls we are about to describe. If this should happen, you will be forced to take a whack-a-mole approach to, just, a whole storm of shit you did not see coming. This is not recommended, as it is kindof a pain in the ass. Know what to avoid!
AKA: the Quicksand of the Inexpert Fucker.
You remember perhaps what it was like when you were all bright eyed and bushy bushed and new to the whole casual sex thing? A time when everything was fresh and new and charged with meaning, and you maybe you spent large portions of your day-afters fretting that something nefarious was going on in the head of the person whose bed you'd just bounced out of, and you just needed to know, so you maybe sent a whole bunch of low-key, super caj text messages the next day just to make sure everything was chill and what not? Remember how goddamn exhausting that was, and how glad you were to have turned the page and closed the book on that phase of your life?
Well welcome back, bitch.
If the pity fuckee in question has received his sex scholarship based on need, it is likely that he has not already completed this cringe inducing period in his sexual awakening, and will need to work through it, by texting you. A lot.
Bear in mind that if you decide to grant a need-based award, you will be obligated to help guide your baby ingénue through the emotional morass involved in casting off the yoke of the prevailing culturo-religious morality mores to deliver him or her safely, and only minimally scathed into the land of pimpdom. It can be a bumpy ride. Be gentle. It may go on for some time. Be patient. Mostly, be aware that the pity fuck will not end when he has gtfo of your house so you can go to brunch.
I am not actually sure how great I feel about having perpetrated a pity fuck on SchoolFriend Eggplant; and I know I would be horrified if he were to stumble onto this post and recognize himself in it. The thing is, people don't usually enjoy the sensation of being pitied. And there is nothing that'll rip the luster off of a conquest faster than discovering that the person you've just smashed with enthusiasm has only smooshed you apathetically.
I can personally attest to this, having once been told by this dude that he'd fucked me just because "I could tell you wanted to." Confused, I requested clarification, whisper/squeaking, "But you didn't really want to?", feeling a small circle of ice form in the pit of my stomach. "Nah, not really" he responded, honestly, for perhaps the first time, which was at least refreshing.
It was not fun to learn that this boning had been begrudging. We all want the people whose mucous membranes we are slurping to reach for us with hunger and enthusiasm, not boredom and resignation. So though I did not worry that my orgasms had been anything other than the product of a consensual encounter between two foolish adults, and thought it didn't occur to me it was a pity fuck at the time, a film of bruised self confidence is now Saran Wrapping that memory. The angst wasn't extreme, but it definitely diminished the pleasure of the whole endeavor.
Creating such a conflicting emotional dichotomy is probably not congruent with your high minded Marxist ideals as you attempt to redistribute the sexual wealth. Beware!
I bet you're expecting this section to counsel you something like "Be careful how good you put it down, lest Pity Peach develop an insatiable appetite for that D"
And I mean, yes, you should consider this, especially if you're busting out your advanced moves, or like, maybe you jizz cocaine or something, I don't know your life.
No, the thing you have to look out for is some Red Lobster worthy fucking that leaves you, the pity fuck purveyor, shuddering and weak; feeling the track of his fingers still scorchingyour skin long after he's lifted them away; the pressure and practice of that thing he can do with his tongue having launched your eyes so far back into your face you think you may never roll them back down. If you should fall victim to this type of hazard, when you finally manage to twist your eyeballs back into position you may notice your own mouth sagging open, sucking air, as you suffer one SERIOUS case of dry mouth.
At which point you may find yourself considering hitting that again. Which would mean subjecting yourself a second time to these trials of emotion and patience, and will force you to confront the dilemma we explore in Chapter 3:
AKA Proceed with Caution, if at all
There is much to consider as you strike out on your quest to change someone's life for the better. There are all the dangers we describe in Chapter 2, which you must learn to avoid or decide to accept. There's the side eye you may have to suffer from your friends if you announce you have done this thing over the brunch you were stressing to get to in our example. Not to mention the unknowable reaction you yourself will have once you've completed your quest and clutch the cup of glory in your sweaty, and potentially sticky, hand.
It's true that a lot of good that can come from completing a pity fuck. To offer something of yourself to someone you know is in need of it is heroic, in its way.
But it's possible to break a heart if you fuck up badly enough, especially at Hazard 2. The hero's journey is perilous, and often results in injury (usually in the form of a nice nick over the eyebrow, or somewhere in the abdominal region requiring the removal of a shirt for proper bandaging).
But now that you know the risks, you should be in a good spot to decide whether to stay home or journey forth down this dangerous road. Just make sure that the only heroes who get hurt along the way are the ones who know they're on it.