Why Do We Fuck?

I couldn’t title this, Why Do We Make Love? because the story wouldn’t be the same. Making love includes fucking. Fucking excludes making love, at least in the beginning, when the prick is praying. And when it prays, God is the devil. I’m only going to discuss fucking. There will be, of course, some love here and there for the initial atmosphere, but after that, it will be prick, pussy, and ass. Breasts too, but they are like lifesavers. Hands and feet are nice accessories. Finally, the mouth! It’s too important not to be grouped by itself. And it applies to both women and pricks. It talks. It kisses. It licks. It sucks. It lubricates. It gently bites. It sometimes swallows (I don’t have the stats). It has its own prick: the wily tongue. And the mouth can give more time. It’s a munificent type. It also comes in different sizes: the Big Mouth, the Good Mouth, the Bad Mouth. And bad can be best.

So, why do we fuck? And it can’t be that long. Let’s lunge at it, then, like a prick eyeing a woman’s bra. I heard or read somewhere that they make them for pricks nowadays. I think that they called them Bros in Seinfeld. Anyways, she’s wearing a see-through blouse and the prick can see the lines of the straps of the bra, long and smooth against her lightly covered skin. What bliss for the blood network to arise! So, why do we fuck? I’ll repeat the question throughout this tale to remind us (me) of the main story, the so-called spread-out piece. There’s always spreading involved but it’s more like a parting than a spread since no food is involved. Wait! I stand corrected since some fluids can be regarded as nutritional. For example, a couple stranded on a boat drifting to who knows where could survive providing one of them is a prick. If both are pricks, the odds may be higher.

So, why do we fuck? For the all-around pleasure that results. If no pleasure was involved, we would be as numerous as pandas, which don’t seem to mind living an intercourse-free life except for once in a while when their genes scream for continuation. There’s surely some pleasure between pandas, but it may be half-hearted like a pliable penis or a limping prick.

While pleasure is the main part of any motive (and votive) for fucking, there are those who like to be in charge and those who like to be charged with everything the one in charge has to offer in terms of both pleasure and pain. It’s a curious state, that of the sadist and the masochist. One inflicts pain and one receives it yet both are apparently satisfied. The nymphomaniac is a saint. Imagine a threesome involving three nymphomaniacs. They’re still at it as you read this. They only take breaks when nature calls (it calls a lot) and when their genes had more than enough.

That’s it! There’s no other reason for fucking. Pleasure is it in a nutshell. Come on! There must be other reasons. What about procreation? It’s a love-related act, though some procreation penetrates without love, like lightning and thunder in a summer storm. What about obsession? It’s part and parcel of pleasure. Aren’t we obsessed with some pleasure-giving part beside the overall undertaking and outcome? Some are obsessed with pussy (guilty). Some are obsessed with pricks (mind-boggling). Some are obsessed with anuses (I’m still analyzing that one given the inherent contradiction). Some are obsessed with feet (no comment). I don’t think that anyone is obsessed with hands (masturbation can be managed with other props). Some, believe it or not, are obsessed with mouths. They tend to talk too much, rarely saying anything worthwhile. They also seem to prefer it, the mouth, to any other orifice. These are the worst in my sex pamphlet.

Well, OK! There’s one more reason for fucking, except that the data are scarce. Curiosity! But it’s very short-lived, turning almost instantly to pleasure. It’s like a spark. I guess that we could call it pleasure’s pinprick or pleasure’s pep. I perceive it more as pleasure’s panache. Freud called it the Pleasure Principle. By the way, there’s no love principle, unless one wants to contemplate the love rule, but then, the rule is eventually broken.