Some women are annoyed by what they see as men's breast fixation, some are puzzled by it, some love it. So to help you accept it for the fact it is and the advantage it gives us, I have done some research on why men love cows and come up with some definite answers.
- They are the most obvious sign of femininity
- They are highly visible
- But they're also (usually) tantalizingly out of sight
- They are closer to eye level than a woman's bottom
- Men are not expected to look at them. Which makes them want to look all that much more
- They are the source of endless fantasies
- Men do not have their own, which makes them that much more mysterious and covetable
- They feel amazing, so good that men never tire of stroking and fondling them
And that's only the tip of the iceberg. Nothing rivets the male gaze as powerfully as a woman's cleavage, and no man on earth has ever failed to notice a woman with lavish breasts. If there is ever a guy who says he does not like breasts, well, he's either lying or gay.
According to one man's opinion I found during my research, the only reason breast wallpaper is not on every man's computer is because they still have not invented one that is completely dribble-proof.
It could also be a serious impediment to actually getting any work done.
Two American university dons recently questioned themselves trying to find an answer to the question why do men love breasts. For a couple of supported intellectuals, their conclusions seemed little removed from those of a lad's mag. Essentially their answer was 'Phwaorrrr!'; Dressed up in slightly less vulgar language.
Their main thesis seems to be that stroking a woman's breasts stimulates pair bonding, particularly in the woman, as it releases oxytocin (the 'love hormone') in her brain, and so in this context it fixes her attention on her mate and increases and Strengthens her feelings for him. In effect, it makes the man more desirable to her.
They also postulate that it stimulates pleasurable memories of breastfeeding-feeding in the male.
Personally I think the latter thesis is bunkum, as the male fascination with breasts is universal, and includes men who were bottle fed as babies. Beside, who can actually remember back that far?
Men just adore playing with things. And breasts are the most alluring playthings possible; Feminine, soft, sensual, sexy, tactile and fun to play with.
Some women can get very antsy about men's fixation on breasts, and make grandiose statements about how they are not sexual, that they are only catering for feeding offspring and not as a pleasant toy for men, and so on and so on.
To me these women are joyless old puritans, and they are spouting more bunkum. If a woman's breasts did exist exclusively to suckle offspring, then they would not develop at puberty and become an intrinsic part of a woman's body for the rest of her life. They'd be flat until until a woman became pregnant, and they'd go flat again once she'd finished nursing – just like they do in dogs, cats, horses, sheep and all the other mammals who udders do exist solely for nursing ( Including our closest relative, the chimpanzee).
Note the term 'udders' here. Not a very pretty word, but if you insist your breasts are purely utilitarian, then that is the status to which you are reducing them.
You can not escape the conclusion that they are intended to be objects of sexual desire, and men are not being 'weird' or 'creepy' by finding them alluring. And plenty of women get just as much pleasure from them as men – more, in fact, because they're the ones whose bodies are being taken. Some women can actually experience orgasm through their breasts.
Some more illustrating male comments on why do men love breasts:
'You could get lost in those boobs, and many men would like to – ideally for days.'
'They are round and soft and smooth and fun to play with.'
'We like them because they're there, and we do not have them. Not that we want to have breasts ourselves, so much as we just have this uncontrollable urge to fondle yours. '
'If I were a woman, I'd sit at home and play with them all day.'
And so on.
I understand your feelings if you have a chest of such bountiful proportions that men frequently hold conversations with it. That is absolutely crass, and the men should be accused of themselves. They need to learn a few social graces, and some manners.
But it will not make men's fascination with breasts go away. And in the end I'm not sure that there's really any great mystery to it.
After all, men are not that complicated. And breasts simply have a straightforward message for them, held in a temptingly noticeable and touchable package: Breasts! Woman! Sex!
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Sarah P Benson