What does Benching mean?
The digital dating jungle has produced a whole new vocabulary: ghosting, breadcrumbing, orbiting. Benching is one of the nastier terms. It means that someone finds you interesting—but not enough to commit to meeting up or starting a relationship. Instead, you’re placed on the metaphorical bench, like a substitute player in sports. The person checks in from time to time, flirts occasionally, keeps you on the hook—but without any real intention of following through.
An example:
Imagine a student who has been texting with a guy on Tinder for weeks. He sends charming messages, sometimes late replies, makes vague hints about meeting—but as soon as she asks directly, he cancels because he’s “so busy right now.” Then days of silence pass before he reappears, as if nothing happened. She feels wanted, yet also sidelined. That is benching: never fully discarded, never truly chosen.
Benching in erotic writing
In short stories or novels, benching can be used to create tension and ambiguity. Erotic literature thrives on longing, rejection, and the game of closeness and distance.
Example 1: She is being benched
The phone lies on the pillow next to me. I stare at the dark screen, as if my gaze could summon a message. Three days, and all I’ve had is a “Hey, how’s it going?”—plus a heart under an old bikini photo of mine. No meeting, no real invitation.My fingers slide across my belly as I imagine him sitting in his room, phone in hand, deliberately not typing. I push the blanket aside, cool air grazing my thighs. Anger and desire twist together inside me.
I type: “Do you want to see me?”—and delete it instantly. Instead, I slip my hand between my legs. My body reacts even though my head knows he’s stringing me along. Each breath grows heavier as I wait for the next tiny sign, the one he’ll surely send only when I’m about to forget him.
Example 2: She benches him
His message lights up the screen: “Are you coming over?”
I smile, type an answer, delete it. Instead, I send a selfie: bare collarbone, a trace of lace bra, nothing more.The phone buzzes immediately. “You’re driving me crazy.”
I set it aside, take a sip of wine, slowly peel the stockings off my legs. The fabric clings faintly to my skin as I lean back. I know he’ll keep staring at the screen, waiting.He has no idea if I’ll reply now—or tomorrow. And that’s the point: he’s sitting on my bench.
Scenes like these show how benching can work as an erotic tension device, keeping characters in a charged loop between desire and frustration.
Feminist perspective
From a feminist angle, benching is more than an annoying dating habit. It reflects power asymmetries. The person who benches manipulates attention and affection without taking responsibility. For women, this often means their feelings are treated as a backup option, reinforcing patriarchal patterns of availability and replaceability.
At the same time, feminist writing can flip the script: a female protagonist who deliberately benches men turns the pattern into her own game. In erotic literature, this can become an act of empowerment—no longer the victim of stalling, but the agent of her own desire.
Psychological implications
Psychologically, benching feeds on uncertainty and intermittent reward. Small, irregular signs of attention are addictive; they hook people into waiting. Dating apps thrive on this exact mechanism.
For those being benched, the result is often self-doubt, frustration, and a sense of incompleteness. Erotic fiction that taps into this emotional push-and-pull can authentically capture how desire becomes entwined with insecurity, projection, and waiting. It also allows for character growth: realizing the mechanism, setting boundaries, and redirecting desire.
Benching is more than a buzzword of dating culture. It is a power play that exposes intimate vulnerabilities and, in literature, serves as a fertile narrative tool. For writers, it opens ways to portray desire, frustration, and empowerment in their full contradiction. From a feminist standpoint, it highlights how modern dating can reproduce patriarchal dynamics—while also offering possibilities for resistance and redefinition. In this sense, benching is both a mirror of digital love life and a strong dramaturgical device in erotic storytelling.