An open and honest hetero man (yes, it's possible) offering bold advice for loving and dating heterosexual men. The naked truth behind how men feel and think about women.
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On this blog I don't speak for women...nor do I try and claim to know exactly what they want. To me, that's an impossibility with infinite answers. I only pass along how men think, on what we want, and what we "perceive" women to want. With that said, I thought I'd share some thoughts from another respected man who's seemingly given the subject as much thought as I, perhaps even more.
My man claims all women want the same thing....and it has nothing to money, happiness or love. "All woman want emotional security from their man, in the sense they (women) can feel safe with expressing their volatile emotions."
He says it took him into his 5th decade to figure this out. He offers his insight to men everywhere by providing tips on how to properly provide that sense of security...and that environment a woman needs to feel "emotionally safe." Only when a woman is free to express herself under her conditions will she truly trust, respect and embrace a man.
According to him, it's all about how men react to women. His number one ascertain is that men cannot fight emotion with emotion. Women are the emotional ones. Men are not. We are the rational problem solvers. We fix things. Tell us what's wrong and we'll make it right. He goes on to explain how women perceive us to be totally incapable of "real" emotion, so the last thing they need is some incapable emotional man getting all "emotional" on them and telling them how they feel or how they think. Whether we can actually express ourselves or not is not the issue. In other words, what do women call sensitive men who show too much emotion? Pussies. And no man who's labeled a "pussy" is getting any pussy any time soon. Women may say they want "sensitive" guys, but really they just want guys who are sensitive to women...not to themselves. Makes sense.
What I wonder is, how many women actually believe this to be true about themselves and what they want from men? More likely, you may not even be able to answer it, because what you think you want, isn't actually what you need.
From what my man says, part of a woman's emotional distress comes from not being able to properly and accurately communicate what they're feeling. And this drives them into the never ending state of what we men refer to as "crazy." A woman's emotional being is so complex, so disorganized, there's no way of properly "fixing" it. So, naturally, men become frustrated they can't do anything about it, and women become increasingly frustrated by men who can't help them. At least until now...my man's website spells it all out...for all of us.
While the site aims to help men find a solution, I could make the case it's women who would actually benefit more from checking it out. When we want something, we don't often fully understand why we want it. Identifying and understanding our problems are the first steps toward solving them.
Every guy has that one friend who always seems to be getting laid. Whether it be via a long term relationship, a friend with benefits or a simple one night stand, women have never been particularly difficult for this guy I know. In fact, it appears so easy for this person, you wonder what he's "got" that others do not. Make no mistake, most guys sole focus in life is having sex...so when you have a friend who is an All-Star in this endeavor it's worth a closer look.
This past weekend my friend informed me he completed the Trifecta. Now you might think this would refer to three different women for each of the three weekend nights...one on Friday, one on Saturday and one on Sunday. Not so with this guy...he did it over a single 24-hour period from Sat night to Sun night. He had sex with a chick on Saturday Night, then another one Sunday morning and finally the third one on Sunday night. Impressive. I should reveal that he's leaving the country this week for a year for work and was upfront with all these women about his situation, so perhaps, that played in to his "success" rate. With that said, it was probably irrelevant This guy is just that good..
The Saturday night hook up came through a friend of a female friend of his...one he had not slept with. They were all out drinking and he ended up hooking up with her after his friend went home. This girl who slept with him also asked him not tell the other girl that she slept with him...which was more than OK with my guy. Girls revel in the sneaking around part more so than guys and I think it's cause they're so worried of being negatively judged by their female friends. Whereas a guy friend who reveals he had a one night stand to another guy would just receive a very standard "Way to go man." On top of this girl's self perceived "bad" behavior, she made it clear to my friend she was still willing to make this a semi-regular thing....as long as he kept it quiet.
The Sunday Morning booty call came from an already regular thing...a girl he works with who's currently in a long term, no sex relationship with an out of town boyfriend. In fact, she had just flown back to town Sunday after spending the weekend with her boyfriend. My buddy claims he would never date this one cause of all her issues (clearly), but as long as she's cool with just fucking him, he'll continue to see her. Although, while my buddy's more her "lover" than her "boyfriend" , they do hang a little bit outside the bedroom. I met them for dinner once.
The third and final hook up of the weekend came via a 2nd date with a woman he's known for years...having met her at a previous workplace...but she had always been in serious relationships...twice engaged to different guys. She had recently broken up and texted my buddy out of the blue to "hang out". He told her upfront he was leaving this coming week for a year, but would still go out with her before he left. This turned into a real dinner date, where he picked her up and they spent the evening out. I didn't get the naked details yet other than, "Hey man I completed the "trifecta" via text.
Yes he's good looking...but not in a leading man or pretty boy type of way...he's a bit rugged....but still, overall, more regular than not. He's friendly, cool, laid back...but also not who you would necessarily refer to as " a charmer". He's incredibly normal for as much poon as he gets, and considering he rarely hooks up with random girls...it's even more remarkable the notches in his belt usually derive from work, friends or mutual acquaintances I asked him what he thought the reason was for his extraordinary success. Without hesitating he responded, "It's because I don't care."
Oh, he cares about getting laid...absolutely....just not about the person he's trying to have sex with. Unlike most men, he's never frustrated, nor does he "pine" over any one woman. If it happens, great. If not, next. He's never going to let one woman affect him to the point where he cares about whether he sleeps with her or not. His portrait of women is not particularly flattering or "nice". And if women really knew how he felt about them, they'd be slapping his face more than he'd be slapping their asses. Add for the record, the woman from Saturday night took a self portrait of the smack mark bruise he left on her ass and sent it to him...thanking him for it...in a good way...He showed me the photo and message.
When I told him I guess I let things affect me more than you and how maybe I just treat life a little more serious...he was like "C'mon, life's a game...and sex is poker. Never show your hand too soon." He was referring to being open and honest with women. His advice was to reveal only what is necessary and what works....For example...being honest about leaving for a year was okay, but telling them you want to sleep with them before leaving would be TMI...and you would lose that hand. This is where I differ from most men. I never looked as trying to have sex as a game...and the "I'll do and say whatever I have to say to get in her pants" mentality. Maybe I'm just too real, too honest, too genuine when it comes to life....and women.
Now I know what everyone is saying...Well, all women want a man to be honest in a relationship. But this is not what we're talking about here. We're talking about sex...that's it. And apparently "acting" like you don't care if you do or you don't works best. I genuinely admire my friend for his skills in the sex poker arena. However, it only reinforces my equally negative thoughts toward women that I share with my friend...it's disappointing to know women continue to reward men who don't give a shit. The difference between us is my buddy's willingness to play along. I'm not.
The new film Sessions, starring Helen Hunt and William H. Macy,spotlights sexual surrogates. For those of you who do not know what a sex surrogate is, it is a professional therapist who treats patients with sex. In the movie, Helen Hunt is a sex surrogate...but with a twist. Her patient is physically handicapped.
Now you could argue when it comes to sex, all men are somewhat physically handicapped....performance and ability...most of us have no idea what we're doing...we need help. Lots of it. So, this film got me thinking. Why shouldn't ALL MEN be allowed a sexual surrogate? And not just allowed...but provided...by the government...and covered by insurance! Before the uproar ensues, I'm going to justify my request with some well documented facts.
1. From the time a man receives his first erection, sex is an all consuming quest. It defines us. All our efforts are designed on how best to get sex. From our job, to our clothes, to the car we drive...all meant to attract a lady in the hopes she'll one day remove her pants for us. We don't just crave it. We need it. We need it to feel like a man. We need it to further our confidence. We need the release. Masturbation is not the solution...it only temporarily relieves. It's a quick fix.
2. Men are angry. Why? It has very little to do with money, job, or our favorite shitty sports team. Most of are anger stems from sexual frustration. We're either not getting laid as much as we want to, or worse...not getting laid at all. This shit makes us beyond cranky. You want peace on earth? Provide a sexual surrogate to every single man.
3. Prostitutes are not surrogates...they cost $, are not regulated....and often come from abused or drug backgrounds. They are not safe. If mental disorders can be treated by medical professionals and covered by insurance than so should sex workers...of the professional kind. ObamaCare would be a lot more popular if sex surrogates were a part of its coverage.
4. Proper training leads to improved skills. Wouldn't all you women like better lovers? Would you rather be the one who teaches? Or would you rather a man come with all the necessary skills? I can't tell you how many times I've heard women complain about their partners love making and how unsatisfied they are with them? Pleasing a woman is not easy...you know it...we know it....so why shouldn't there be a legal training program? We live in an advanced society....why limit this thinking to science, education and culture? Sex is just as important as anything in this world.
5. Most men will not publicly support my position. In private, 100% will agree...even the "religious" ones.
Unless your man has thrown in the white towel and shut down his sexual urges...like the tormented and the broken hearted, and those miserable men in dead end marriages...a normal man's desire for sex never fades, no matter the age. I know men in their 60's just as horny as men in their 20's....the only difference is that older men become better game managers...we're wiser....we know how to control and manipulate our carnal desires. The widespread use of sexual surrogates can only help men...and women.
Everyone needs therapy, particularly of the sexual variety. The use of sexual surrogates isn't simply about satisfying erotic fantasies; it's about developing a more loving, peaceful, educated society.
I've been thinking about this post for a couple of weeks...much longer than usual. Typically, I come up with a topic and write about it immediately. This one lingered for awhile in part because I've been traveling; but also, it's a fairly significant one. September 9th, 2012 was the 3 year anniversary of meeting the woman from Chicago who changed my life forever...and as fate would have it...I found myself in Chicago that weekend, seeing the man who also changed my life forever. I was there to see Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band play Wrigley Field on Friday the 7th, and again on Saturday the 8th. Because one show isn't enough.
I had mixed emotions about returning to Chicago for the first time since I had met this woman. And although we actually met in LA, she still maintains a Chicago phone number, and I always thought about taking her to a Springsteen show in her hometown. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam actually came out and performed "My Hometown" with Bruce over the weekend. Here it is.
In fact, our first date could have easily taken in place in Chicago 3 years ago to see Springsteen, a mere week after we had met. She was already there and I suggested flying in to take her to the show, but she didn't seem too excited about going to see my man at the time. Plus, I suspected she was in Chicago visiting her on the fence boyfriend, at the time.
This woman aside, I've been a fan of Chicago since the first time I traveled there years ago. Frank Sinatra's not the only one from Jersey who thinks the Windy City is his kind of town. At least, anytime it's not winter there.
Not only have I always had a great time in the city, but over the years I've met a lot of women from there, and while there, that have been "into" me. I don't know what it is that's made me sort of a Chicago Playboy, but maybe I should take it up with the original Chi-town lady killer, Mr. Hugh Hefner. At any rate, Chicago's been very, very good to me.
And this weekend was no exception. Unlike most women in my life, Bruce never disappoints. It's one of the many things I love about the guy. No matter how high the expectations, he finds a way to surpass them. He's an inspiring, magical man. If I could find a woman to light up my life as much he does, I'd be the happiest guy in the world. I've often thought that woman from 3 years ago was just that woman. The incredible disappointment in discovering she was not is why I've been so affected.
I flew in Thursday night and met up with some long time Springsteen friends for drinks, so didn't really hit the town. Friday's show went so long and so late I was starving by the time it ended and didn't have the energy to first go out at 1am. So that left Saturday. Last night. Show again was incredible, despite the heavy rain and eventual downpour at the end, shortly before midnight and my pending "anniversary."
You'll never find me in a better mood or shining in a brighter light than right before I'm going to see Bruce...obviously during the show....and then again, right after. If you're around me during these times you'll see. It's like I've got this magic glow about me that instantly attracts women. I've "hooked up" with several after Bruce shows, whether I went to the show with them, or just met them afterward.
With the downpour and a mad rush of people to catch the train, I decided to pop into one of the bars across the street from Wrigley to dry out, and grab a drink. I had lost my group in the transition out of the stadium. I was on my own. Same thing had happened to the woman I immediately met at the bar. She was cute, wet...and drunk. The Man's Trifecta.
I've said this before, my post Springsteen glow aside, women who like me, like me instantly. There's no confusing or wondering if she's into me. I know right away. And so do they. Maybe it's because I have such a strong personality and they either respond or they don't....I'm about as black and white kind of guy as it gets. I'm pretty certain it has nothing to do with my physical looks; otherwise I'd have had more opportunities than normal. Whatever the case, this one, was clearly "into me."
She had me Facebook request her before I even finished my first drink. In fact, that was the only drink I had here. She got a text from her sister wondering where the hell she was...the sister was back at the hotel...downtown...where I was also staying, so she suggested I take a cab back with her to her hotel. OK. Fine by me. We knew each other about 20 minutes by this point. Hailing a cab would prove to be more difficult. We ended up sharing with another random couple who had also gone to the show. Let me just also say that if you're not interested in getting laid after you've been to a Springsteen show, check your pulse, you may not be alive.
So, as soon as we get into the cab with the other couple, the other woman, starts inquiring how we know each other and if we're dating. When my girl says we just met the other woman says something about it being fate or something, and how this being a great night and all, I'm totally going to have sex with her. She actually said, "Oh, you guys are going to have sex tonight." See I told you...Bruce brings out the freaking. He rocks. It was pretty hilarious, although my girl insisted that was not going to happen because she's "Canadian. And we're not like that." That was just as funny because she just gave the Canadian version of the American version of women proclaiming, "I never do things like this."
Keep in mind, this was the first night in awhile that I was actively seeking some pussy. I suppose a lot of factors were at play, Chicago, the Anniversary, Bruce, alcohol...therapy...lol....and it's not like I haven't gotten "any" in 3 years...I have....but only when it's fallen into my lap...never because I was on a mission or "trying." And so, once again, I found a woman who fell into my lap....even though I was totally prepared to put forth effort on this night. I was on the hunt. Turns out it was a very very brief hunt. So that whole myth about something happens when you least expect it to is total bullshit. I was totally expecting to hook up Saturday night...someway, somehow. After all, I knew I had Chicago and Bruce on my side. That's a lethal double combo.
We make it back to her hotel, and get ready for this one...it's directly across the street from the hotel where I'm staying. I mean right across the street. Of all the hotels in the city we just happened to be staying next to each other. Anyone who doesn't believe in weird cosmic events or "fate" is kidding themselves. I'm not saying there's a God or angels or anything heavy like that...I'm just saying there's some things you just can't explain with "It was a coincidence." There's something mysteriously spiritual about the ways of the universe. Haven't you all seen the film Fools Rush In???? It's also why the date on which I met the woman from 3 years ago, 9/9/9, completely messed with my head. I'll leave it at that.
Actually, I won't. I came home for the Jewish New Year Holiday this week and my Dad gave me one of his ties to borrow for services. So, I'm tying it, and I flip it around and notice the brand on the back of the tie. Madison. "Her" last name. Happy Fucking New Year!
I digress. Back to the Windy City...which actually wasn't very windy at all. Perfect weather, except for the rain tonight. Although, it ended up being kind of perfect in its own way.
We go right up to her room where she changes out of her wet clothes, throws on a sexy black dress and drops a baby black Springsteen tank over the top of it. That's my kind of girl. Now, she's playing it a little coy, still acting like we're not going to do anything like "that". And her sister and friend are waiting in the room next door for her. Well, maybe so, but I'm not having any of that. I press her some. Tell her I know she wants to kiss me. She smiles."One kiss and then you can tell me you don't want to." She smiles again. Checkmate.
If there's nothing else I'm confident about, it's knowing I'm an awesome kisser. Not a good one. Not a great one. But an awesome one. Firm. And soft. Right Tiffany? LOL. (That's an inside joke. And for the record, Tiffany and I never kissed. She had no interest.)
We kiss. While she's obviously into it, she insists we go see her sister. Now! Fine. I pass that test. I get past her pants. Dress. Whatever. I realize I may be coming off a bit flip-id here or "piggish", but I'm really just writing it like this for humor's sake. I thought she was a very cool chick...yes I was attracted to her...yes I wanted to have sex with her...but nothing was done with any malice or intentions other than love and pure joy...just as Bruce would have wanted it.
So the sister's pissed! She's all like "We waited for you. Where did you go? Blah blah blah. No we're not going out. We're wet. We're cold,. And we're going to be bed." Fuck me. What a Buzzkill. However, to my surprise, she tells my girl, "If you want to go out. Go ahead. Do what you want." Fuck yeah. Test passed.
We go back to her room briefly to find out the sister is actually sharing the King bed with my girl...Oh, fuck me. I'm sharing a room with two older woman I'm friendly with. I can't take a girl back there. Damn. I try not to think about what I'm going to do. Cross that bridge later.
We head out down the street, pop into a bar when she hears some Kid Rock playing, and sit down at the bar for a drink. I pay. I'm a gentlemen. Then I go to kiss her again. And this time...she's really into it. I can't exactly remember when she revealed she had some man in her life who she was unhappy with...story of my life...how do I end up always meeting women who are unhappy with who they're with? Why am I the one they're attracted to? And why do they continue to stay with those men when they're clearly so infatuated with me? I've got quite the curse going here. More universe shit. I'll have to ask my therapist about that one next week.
We eventually walk out of the bar holding hands...up to the Chicago river....which makes me think about my last post about romance in New York. Next to New York, Chicago is the next best thing for romance and love. Any picturesque city you can walk and take public transportation is going to be more romantic than a valet pulling your car up and handing your keys back. Love stinks in LA.
She's starting to get cold and wants to hop a cab back to her hotel...sure no problem. We kiss some in the cab, take into the lobby and toward the elevator bank. Now I'm thinking, fuck, I'm gonna have to get a hotel room here, aren't I? Some people attempt to ride the elevator with us, but I quickly dismiss them. I tell them, "Sorry, this one's just for us. You'll have to take the next one." They do.
Before the elevator door even closes she's wrapped around me. We're all over each other. We reach her floor. I tell her we're not done. I press the 1st floor button again. We're going down. I act like I'm going to go down too. She's going wild, but says "No we can't. No." This continues for the next 20 minutes or so, riding up and down the elevator, alternating between pushing buttons to random floors and her telling me how much she wants to fuck me. She tells me how much she loved how I took control of the elevator and told those people it was "ours." It turned her on so much.
Love in an elevator. Never done it. However, I have met a woman in a hotel elevator before and went out for a drink with her that night. I've picked up a woman on a plane, a woman working behind a ticket booth window, a woman driving in her car who was following me and then pulled up alongside me at a stoplight, a woman who was selling tickets on the street (not a scalper, just a regular person), a waitress, a bartender, a flight attendant (this one wasn't even from my flight but my buddy's who was walking out the airport with her when I went to pick him up...within 5 minutes the flight attendant was giving me her number), a woman in line at a late night pizza spot (45 minutes later we were making out on her couch, some 15 minutes after that we were naked in her bed)...where was I?
Oh yes, the elevator. Would have had sex with this one in it. I say "would" because she wasn't going to let it happen. These were glass elevators. Did I mention that one? I did get my fingers inside her for a moment. That was it. We exit. On the floor below hers.
I suggest we find a quiet, isolated spot. We walk down the hall. I was actually thinking the stairs to the roof, but we end up in a narrow hall just outside a couple of rooms. I push her against the wall. She's completely turned on. We gradually slide down to the floor. She's still telling how much she wants to fuck me. And how she hasn't felt this kind of passion in 10 years and how sexy I am. She tells me she's going to orgasm. And to put my fingers inside her. She's riding on top of me. Asking me to pretend I'm fucking her. She wants me to cum. I tell her, "I'm not going to. Not like this." She gets off and I continue on her. Lifting her dress up, or down...not sure how I got to her breasts, but I did...fully exposed, I kiss and caress her. I loosen my belt and open my pants. She quickly pulls my shirt over "it", grins, and then insists, "I am not going to fuck you."
She notices my wristbands from the concert still attached to my wrist. She inquires about them. They're from the "pit". She tells me she would have blown me if I had gotten her in there. She's not fucking me. And she's also not blowing me. In fun, I grab her hair and tell her I'm taking a picture. She's laughing and covers her face just as I take it.
We mess around a bit more until I accept the reality. She's not going to fuck me. So I do what I need to do. I do exactly what Miss Madison wanted to me to do. And in fact, had requested of me 3 years ago to do to her. I masturbate onto her. Under her dress. In the hall. On the floor. She helps some. She likes it. A lot.
I'd tell you the hotel, but there may still be some DNA left behind, so I reveal nothing more. Ha.
And oh by the way, she really is Canadian and still lives there. Who knows if we'll see each other again. If we do, it'll probably be at a Springsteen show. And speaking of Bruce...I'm listening to E Street Radio right now and the song "I'm going down" is playing...Nice.
I currently live in Los Angeles, previously lived in New York City; and after recently visiting there, I can unequivocally say love blossoms in New York....and dies in LA.
New York City is far more romantic, beautiful, inspiring....and most importantly, passionate. Everywhere you look there's something special to see, touch....smell. A casual stroll through Central Park or along the Hudson River on a sun splashed afternoon will offer the best in New York romance. Young lovers holding hands or kissing on a park bench or resting in each other's arms on a grassy patch are seemingly all around. In Los Angeles, you have to search far and wide to find anyone who resembles a couple in love. Why is that?
Is it because in the city of angels no one declares anything with conviction or certainty? Everyone operates on a "maybe". In other words, all options remain on the table, so you better not fall in love. LA is a soulless town of make believe and insincerity. It's fake. Nothing is real. Not even the beautiful blue sky which arrives via smog filled air and Hollywood special effects (must be right?) is legit. Truth be told, people in Los Angeles care more about their "credits" than they do their "hearts". If Los Angeles is all about the individual then New York is all about us. Two hearts are better than one. And New York understands that more than any place in the country.
LA is the unsure sister to New York's determined brother. She's fragile, mysterious and confused, while he's aggressive, persistent, courageous and open. Her knows what he wants and doesn't hold back. He just goes for it.
Film and TV have long romanticized New York. All you have to do is visit once and you'll understand the reasons with Hollywood's fascination with its coastal counterpart. Here's some "real" loving snapshots I took on my recent trip.
Actually, this one was taken in Los Angeles! But only further proves my point. Even in LA people are loving NYC!
And then there's this classic signage shot I took in New York to flirt with a girl I was texting with in LA........
I sent her the photo before we ever went out, while I was visiting New York. Her last name was Madison. She thought it was funny and liked it a lot...I was trying in my own charming way to be romantic....that's what New York brings out of you. At any rate...when we did eventually go out the sign must have worked. Sparks flew between us and it turned out to be the most enjoyable first date I ever had...she even held my hand as we walked down the street to my car after we had a long make-out session in hers....and this took place in LA if you can believe it! But as LA is, this romance was d.o.a. She killed it before ever giving us a chance. Perhaps if we had gone out in New York we'd still be dating.
While women may like to believe they're the "romantic" ones...it's usually up to the man to make the romance. Plan the day, set the mood, etc.....Woman want to be romanced, but men are the ones actually doing it. So I ask, where do you romance in LA? "The Grove?" Malibu at sunset? A hike through a canyon? Hardly. Nothing compares to losing yourself in a park in New York City...day or night.
I once flew to New York specifically for a first date...lunch, museum...an early evening walk through the park. We ended up on a bench under a lamp post when a light rain began to fall. It was an only in New York kind of day.
If you love New York it will most certainly love you back. Take it from a guy who knows.
Here's the easy answer: Because we're trying to get laid!
This doesn't mean we don't also want a meaningful reationship. It just means we value sex tremendously. Yes I know sometimes what we do and how we act is completely counter productive to this idea but trust me, whatever it is we're doing or not doing has the intended result of getting laid.
Yes, we really do think about sex all the time. Yes it's ridiculous. We can't help ourselves. Stop being so beautiful and we'll stop wanting to have sex with you. When we first meet you we quickly think what you'd be like sexually. Even after we've had sex with you we think about the next time we're going to have sex with you. Will there even be a next time? Will it be better? Will it be worse? From our jobs, to our cars, to our clothes, everything is done with an eye toward catching your eye.
If you're feeling sick from hearing this or prefer to just think all men are fucking nuts then my advice is to date women or spend some quality time with a monk. We are who we are. Accept it. Embrace it.
A female friend of mine who I've known for over 20 years just told me "sex is no big deal." Yeah. To a woman it's no big deal! If you have a bottomless keg in your house with a beer tap and you can pour yourself a cold beer anytime you want...of course it's not going to be a big deal. Just pull the lever. Cha-Ching. If women want sex all they have to do is say so. Go ahead. Try it. Walk up to any random guy on the street or in the supermarket. You'll see.
On the other hand, men have to say they want it (a given) and then either work for it or pay for it...either way time and money are involved. No wonder we place a higher value on it than women do. Anything you can get whenever you want it for free with no strings attached is not something you could possibly value much. Sex to a man is huge deal! And to any man who tells you otherwise, he's full of shit and just trying to be cool and casual about it. Every time we have it, we think, "Damn! I just had sex!"
We're talking single men here. Married men at some point stopped worrying about it and have no choice but to accept the fact it's no longer a big deal. Trust me. I've spoken with many a married men about this. They argue how other things have become more important...their kids, their work, etc....Bullshit. They've just retired from all the bullshit that goes along with getting sex from their wives. So they inherently devalue its meaning. Yes sex drives decrease the older you get...but all that means is that maybe once a week is enough now...instead of daily. It's still vital....to men of all ages.
And I totally understand the notion of "meaningful sex" and how important that kind of sex is to women. Of course, guys want to have meaningful sex too. But short of meaningful sex any sex will do. It's all we think about. Even Crash Davis, Kevin Costner's character in Bull Durham, had to step out of the batter's box because he had that "Annie character" in his head. You are always in our thoughts. Always.
The meatier, more complicated answer to why we act the way we do is that men are in a constant state of proving our self worth. Often, our behavior has a very specific purpose. Unlike many women, men are not so random. We may be showcasing our unique abilities or fueling our ego. We need approval and we need to be loved...much more so than women.
Sex is the one thing we know to look to that can boost our confidence and manhood. That's the real reason we're so focused on getting laid....it's not just because we're horny animals...although we are...it's much more psychological with us than you ever thought possible. Whereas, many women want sex just because it feels good....Self esteem and feeling more "womanly" do not bear the same weight in sex as they do for men. Many of us can only feel "manly" when we're having sex.
