I’m like an animal. I need food, sex, and water. That’s my starting point. Without sex, I can’t function. I think men and sex have a unique relationship with each other in that regard. When my battery is running low, I don’t have the energy to do what I want in life, or even be kind to people I love. Why men need sex so consistently is probably a evolutionary tale of our status drifting to emptiness without thousands of children in the womb, but for me, in today’s age, if I ask myself: why is sex so important to men? Or to me at least… It’s the fear of growing old.
I took a trip to South America…
I got to Montevideo with one goal: have sex with Sofi. Sofi was a girl I met in Madrid. We had sex in the bathroom of the hostel but that’s not what this story is about. I just wanted to tell you where I met her. I told her I would visit her in Uruguay and so I did. The first night we were at my AirBnB (cause she was living at the college she was attending in an all-girls living dorm at the time), I couldn’t wait to see her body.
She had on a thong, which her ass ate up quite nicely, and that’s a requirement for me even though I think thongs are slightly outa style. I guess I should be able to appreciate the boy shorts; I can’t. She smiled at me with her tits bigger than I remembered and her hips nicely rounded. I grabbed her by the hips and chucked her on top of me. I kissed her all over and we started fuckin, but after a few nights, I didn’t feel fulfilled. I cared about her too much. I needed sex with no emotion attached to it. So the sex never gave me my fix, and I needed that fix to appreciate life. If I don’t have enough sex while I’m still attractive I won’t be able to fuck the girls I always dreamt of fucking. My life will amount to nothing. That’s the fear. Dying with a regret I didn’t use my youth to have as much sex as possible.
Men and Sex Are Like Abusive Relationship Partners
Since I had to find a partner that I shared no emotion with, I left on a quest to seek fiery lust. But I had to leave anyway cause I had to keep myself in the media. Ya see, I sent out a press release that the Guinness World Record road trip guy (me) was going on his next adventure: to Circumnavigate South America. So I told Sofi that it had nothing to do with her and that I had to leave and do what I told the media I was gonna do. I said I’d be back in about three months. She woke up at three in the morning to show me off to the bus station. That was the last time I saw her.
That’s when I met the girl from Argentina with insane plastic surgery; I loved it.
She had massive fake tits and wore a white tee shirt with no bra and her nipples were dark enough to render the shirt see-through. I was laying in the hammock making eye contact with her at the hostel in Puerto Madryn and heard her tell her friend that I was handsome. I had been waiting for the shower to open up cause I just got off a twenty-hour bus ride from Buenos Aires. Well, it was a few hours from Montevideo to the ferry that took me to Buenos Aires, and then like twenty hours from Buenos Aires to Puerto Madryn.
Oh wait… the Venezuelan girl. I forgot to tell you about her. I stayed at a hostel for a few days in Buenos Aires and fell in love with a girl that was fleeing Venezuela. She was staying in my room with her younger brother, which made the situation all the more uncomfortable. On my last day there she finally got a job at some restaurant down the street and I told her I had to see her before I left. I went down there and gave her a kiss.
“Come back to the hostel with me,” I told her.
But she couldn’t. It was her first day at work. I told her I’d be back to visit but my sex drive was now spilling hormones all over the street and I was in need of a plug. But anyway, that was the last time I ever saw her.
Anyway, back to Puerto Madryn and the girl with juicy fake tits, I had to have her. She was traveling with her friend and was on vacation. They both lived in Buenos Aires and were leaving the next day. We spent the day together and she let me store my backpack in her room until my bed opened up. Then she requested to the front desk that I stay in her room. Later that night she asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with her on her Samsung phone. So I moved from my bed to her bed and started kissing her immediately. God this chick was so fake looking I couldn’t stand it. It was amazing. She was like five feet tall and her tits were like ten feet wide. Absolutely incredible.
Not even ten seconds went by before she put her head under the covers and undid my jeans and started fondling my ass. Her lips touched my dick and I laid there trying not to make a sound. Her friend was especially annoyed at the amount of attention she had been giving me all day, like “stop being such a whore Mercedez!” That was her name: Mercedez. Anyway, I came in her mouth and she let me go soft between her lips before I went back to my bed. She woke me up before she left in the morning to kiss me goodbye. That was the last time I ever saw her again. But now I had fixed my fear of growing old and not fucking as many girls as I could. But it only lasted two days.
Why is Sex Is So Important to Men?
Because to me every day is a day closer to the end. For the rest of the trip I was on a sex mission. I needed more. I think why men need sex is to feel like they’re actually living their life, a rich life full of sexual excursions. The more sexual excursions, the more the regret of not being with enough women is lessened. And the fear was coming back. I had to have more sex to replace the sex I just lost. So I traveled down to Rio Gallegos and then to El Calafate and then to el Chalten searching for someone else to give me youth. Finally I met this girl at the bus stop in El Calafate on my way to El Chalten that drove me nuts. She gave me a challenge but I tripped along the obstacle course to her vagina and never arrived. But it gave me hope. It gave me someone to write about, like right now. Why sex is so important to men is because we need stories to tell ourselves to keep us alive, to convince us our life wasn’t meaningless.
Then I met a girl from Germany in Mendoza. Maybe she was from Denmark. Or Romania? Hmmm… Where was she from? I can’t remember. Point is she told me she wasn’t interested in me and that I was a “big boy” and can handle rejection. She said that to me after I asked for a kiss: code for I wanna slowly work ourselves into bed. But anyway, I was like yeah, I can handle rejection, sure. So when she asked if she could visit me the next day when she passed by my hostel, I was over it. But I didn’t wanna be a dick and not hang out with her just cause I was all pissy that she didn’t wanna fuck. I didn’t wanna throw a temper tantrum. After all, I was thirty-two at the time. But then we got to the park and she looked over at me while we were laying in the grass and said:
“Now I’m horny.”
“Oh now I’m your type?”
“Maybe. You grew on me.”
So I took her back to my hostel and we went to the bathroom in the courtyard.
She was much taller than most girls, maybe she was like 5’10”, or something, but you know those Dutch girls: huge. Wait. Was she dutch? I really don’t know. But she kept tellin me she wanted to put her strap-on on and fuck me like this guy she was fuckin back home.
I kept sayin, “ehhh… I don’t know about that.”
But then when I pulled my pants down she jammed her finger so far up my ass I think my G-spot fell out… I’m only kidding. I know dudes don’t have G-spots. I’m no fool. But my cock shot straight up to the roof and she pulled that condom down on it like it was a raincoat on a telephone pole. It had never been so easy. That’s when I realized I like that kinda thing. Is that gay? Is it bad if it is gay? Is it offensive to even ask that question? Who gives a fuck. I railed that girl out harder than I was planning to. I bent her over the sink and stood on my toes and put my hand on the back of her neck and stared at us in the mirror as I tortured her with rage. Then we rinsed off in the shower together and she denied my towel after we were done.
“No, I drip dry.”
Why Men Need Sex, Well… Why I Need Sex
Because my fear of regretting shit is so damn potent I think about it constantly. My ego is huge. If I were to ever feel like I missed the opportunity to gather the most sex I possibly could during my prime years, it would be a goddam Shakespearan tragedy. And there’s a fucking solution to all this: Utilize my time.
From twenty onward, my chances of pornstar sex go down and down, and that’s what I’m after. I don’t know if chicks want pornstar sex, maybe they do, but all I know is when the time comes where my looks don’t get me in the door with pornstars or I believe that my chances with the hottest chicks I can possibly fuck fade, I’ve lost out on 75% of the fun. To die without all the fun is horrid, and that’s why I, or men in general, that’s why men need sex: to remind me constantly that I’m doing everything possible to not die too early.
The moral of the story is men and sex need each other in a way that an F150 needs gas. Refuel. My fear of growing old and not utilizing my youth is a serious threat that I need to keep my ego full of gas. There’s nothing worse than feeling like I haven’t used my year wisely. So, I think why men need sex is to not die with the fruits of life still on the table, or half-eaten.
Anyway, here’s a crazy story about Burning Man.