To be honest, I've never got a sexual thrill from fencing, but the rest of it stands up. There's something immensely satisfying about pulling off a complicated, deceptive, fast action culminating in plunging the point into your opponent's chest while s/he wonders what just happened.
The humiliation's good too, though we're all friends after the match. I'm not a good fencer - my repertoire is too limited and my stomach too capacious, but I can beat much more gifted opponents because my footwork's good enough to spoil their flashy moves, which frustrates them into wildly slashing rather than calmly picking me off.
The older and slower I get, the less I move, relying on good timing and precision rather than force - which is why a top-level bout is over quickly and silently: anyone who tried swashbuckling in a fencing match would lose immediately. But I do still adore a bit of Errol Flynn.