Sex is like Chinese food: tastes great, but you're always hungry an hour later.
I think even if I lived with an extremely horny and accommodating partner, I'd still spend 90% of my time in a state of aroused frustration. Something in me wants to always be at least groping.
I actually managed to piss Alan off the other day; we were wrestling around, just playing, not sexual, and I made a (gentle) grab for the goods. "Don't paw me," he said, "that's degrading." He's... not wrong. I just can't help myself.
I can only imagine how much worse this would be if I were a man.