Sex is destiny. We came from, and continue to come back to the same conclusion. Our sex lives chart the flow of our futures. We ooze our desired dreams and drip with the possibilities of dalliances yet to be. Social intercourse dictates our actions as it thrusts forward our advances to the ultimate goal. If it weren't for nudity and friction, I wouldn't be writing this. This is a fact of life.
A man's existence is based on accomplishment and the accumulation of things that make him comfortable.
Men collect experience the same way a prostitute gathers clientele. We wear our badges of distinction on everything we do. Spotty stains of achievement cling to us and invite prospective paramours. Varsity letters scream of camaraderie and male bonding. The savoury delight of men sharing action-packed moments on the sports field. The fluid poetry of athleticism, flexing muscle and stretching towards ultimate reward. Spectators looking on, drooling about 'stats' and exalting with each point scored. All of us living for the pat on the ass that says, "you have spunk, kid".
As a man, I dream of a 'Jiffy Lube' life. As needed, soothing moistness is applied to all my ball joints, in a quick and efficient manner, as often as necessary and as factory warranty allows. Smiling politely as someone busily works beneath us, leaving us both better for the experience and satisfied with the servicing. Best of all we know no one will steal our wallets or complain about our ride being inferior.
I was told I was a 'love child', (I have no doubt a certain amount of chemical enhancement might have been involved). This means, my parents were so hot for each other's bodies, they couldn't wait to legally formalise the agreement. I also know whatever hunger, hatred, or love there was, I am grateful for this unplanned parenthood. Rash as they may have been, I am the satisfaction of a libidinous itch. A burning desire was quenched with the fervent heat of passion, and consumed with relish.
Ultimately, the question remains. Is sex the pulsing, driving, lust powered engine that spins the wheels of our free will... or are we all just screwing around?
DaBuoy
