And no. Because you want sex more than she does – It’s not because you are a dirty, selfish lower life form. Or a filthy disgusting animal. Or a dim witted pleasure seeking brute. Well, OK, not entirely. It’s all bollocks. Yours in particular.
Whether you are so manly you can only grunt because that’s more than enough of that talking shit, or whether you are a New Castrati and are blabbing all the time, you’ve still got a set, no matter how shriveled they may be. And they are the main reason why you think sex would be a good idea every few seconds. Your balls are not just Christmas ornaments hanging there. They are factories, like 3rd world sweatshops, going full blast, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
They make sperm which is the true miracle of life. Only men can create life. Women’s gags are all present when they are born and just roll down the chute and into play as needed. Men, with those dangling industrial centers, produce living sperm, seemingly from nothing more than greasy fast food and televised sport. What a piece of work is man.
And you don’t just make a few sperm. You make a lot of them. 1500 of them every second
And you don’t just make a few sperm. You make a lot of them. 1500 of them every second – although who actually counted them isn’t clear – but it does seem like the kind of piddly-diddly detail job that women are so good at.
In any case, as you can well imagine, at that frantic pace of production, you’ve soon got an oversupply of those cute, wiggly little puppies. And very limited shelf space. Not only that, the shelf life is somewhat short too – a few hours when you blow your wad into a sock or onto the sheets. 5 days in a woman’s body. Not too much longer in your balls. So your body manager starts yelling “Get this stuff outta here. I don’t’ care where you put it. I got new stuff coming in.” At which point you start looking for a suitable receptacle. A woman. A comely dog. Any fold of flesh really. If you don’t find one in a hurry that stuff is coming out anyway – and in a couple of days you’ll wake up sticky and wet. Having missed all the fun.
It’s like when you have to pee. Your body manager starts telling you – “This isn’t mine. It’s urine. Get it outta here.” and you immediately start looking for a bathroom, a urinal or a handy bush.
So you wanting sex all the time is nothing to do with you being such a dawg. It’s purely bio-mechanical. Not your fault at all. Just a simple matter of too much production and too little shelf space.
It’s a logical, reasonable, science based argument. Give it a shot. Women will believe anything, Dawg.