Five Questions

Five Questions for That Couple Who Fucked in a Moving Car

The only way to process the world is by asking questions of it.

by Joel Golby
07 December 2017, 1:44pm

Yeah, this sometimes happens where two people have sex so weirdly and so publicly that we all have to talk about it. Sex is normally done in a bed, is the thing, or on a big sofa. In the shower, I guess. Either way: there are blinds and curtains and closed doors involved, as a general rule of thumb. I’m just saying: most people do not have sex, in a car, in Argentina, while the car is going 70mph (Argentina is static or as near-to-static as a country can be, revolving as it is with the globe, don’t start), and they are also driving the car, the sex-havers.

That’s not the normal way to have sex.

Some questions:


How horny are you? How much of a rush are you in? I think if you ask yourself these two questions, and answer them honestly and deeply, you can basically take a temperature check on your interior life at any one moment. How horny are you? Eh, maybe only a 10 percent. Do you have anything to do later? Yeah, three things planned: 75 percent in a rush. Urgency overrides your horny. Or: how horny are you? Sadly, you have a hangover, so for whatever reason you are maximum horny. Nothing much else going on today, so why not – and horniness trumps urgency. You see? Don’t you see? That everything in our life is dictated by sex and scheduling?

These guys: these guys do not give a hot fuck about that. Horny? Oh yeah. Yeah. As horny as it is possible to be. In a rush? They are going among the fastest speeds that human beings regularly go. Did they wait to get home to fuck? They did not. The horniness was unbearable. But did they undermine the urgency to do it? Also no: they transcended both horniness and urgency to satiate both human desires in one pulsating locomotive shag. Every time you have waited to get home to shag someone; all those times you lost hours to chores and admin: that time you wasted has been reclaimed, here, and now, in a speeding car in Argentina, by these two maverick shaggers.


Lewis Hamilton – the answer to the question, "What would happen if a lab created, from scratch, an athletic superstar, but for some reason forgot to give it dick and balls?" – has won the Formula 1 driver’s title four times. By that metric he is a good driver. I have been in a car with good drivers, and bad ones too: civilians who make smooth gearshifts and make three-steps-ahead-of-the-chess-board motorway overtakes, and people who clank it into reverse by accident and run down a low wall. A lot of people have the capability to drive. But to drive well: it’s a fine, balanced art. Not a lot of people can do it.

Okay, so this dude is driving at 70mph and doing all the 70mph stuff you have to do in a car to keep going 70mph – looking at the road, for example, and gently tilting the wheel, and hammering the pedals. He is also full on fucking someone at the same time. How many times does he crash? Zero times. How many times does the car explode in a ball of flames? It does not explode in a ball of flames even once. This guy is driving on the motorway, and making all the fine adjustments that come with that… and also absolutely fucking (*1). Give all of Lewis Hamilton’s titles to this guy. He’s the best driver on the planet, sorry. Sorry, Lewis! But he deserves them more than you.

WATCH: People Who Just Had Sex – Mike and Alice


The dude is driving 70 miles per hour. And fully, fully fucking. And then. Like a zombie emerging powerfully from the grave for one last "fuck you", he… raises… his… non-shagging hand… and… flips… off… the camera. Imagine even being agitated in that situation! You’re living the best life it is possible to live! Why even get mad at people for watching! Because of the principle, and nothing else!

Is this flip off the peak of human coolness? Mate: this is The Fonz high-fiving The Rock in space. This is Donald Glover and Zlatan Ibrahimovic firing laser-guided sniper bullets into the exploding face of the president. This is Diddy ordering another bottle of Ciroc with just a very quiet, powerful nod. This is the coolest thing that has ever happened.


Ah, yes: it is "sexo en coche".


Are you? Are you, though? Are you truly living your life? What’s the fastest speed you’ve ever had sex at? Have you ever had sex, frantic and sweaty, eyes white and hands clenched against the road, while flipping someone off? Are you working to your full potential? Do you even know your full potential? If I asked you to shag someone while driving a car down some flat tarmac in fifth gear, could you? Or would you doubt yourself? Could you get into space? Do you wonder how people get into space, and how you don’t? There are people in space right now. You have all the same tools as them. A brain and a body. Why aren’t you in space? Why are you still in this job you hate? Why do you spend so much of your time so miserable? You shouldn’t be, should you. The world is huge and incredible. You can do anything you want in it. You can shag someone in a car while also driving the car. But instead, no: just you and the Tesco Clearance Aisle again, looking at reduced fat sausage rolls, wondering why it won’t get better. Get out there. Get out of here and out there. Fuck someone in a car while also driving a car. Live your life.


(*1) Can We Also Please Note: remember when Hugh Grant got busted with that sex worker and the police only knew what was going on because his legs kept pumping the brakes of the car he was parked in, setting off the lights on the back? (I am sorry but this is a deeply important cultural moment for me) Yeah: now imagine that car was moving at the time. Anyone who can control their legs at all during any notion of sexual activity is, for my money, worthy of some sort of national honour.