I’m a breast man…always have been.
I have this early memory, when I must’ve been around 5 years old. I was living in a slum outside of Paris, and my brother and I were cold and unhappy. To keep us occupied my parents gave us a copy of playboy. I was mesmerized… Back then in the 70s, jugs were perfectly natural, all that silicone crap hadn’t really taken off yet. So there I was, staring a hole through that dusty magazine, my first boner swinging in my pajama pants. The pendulous flesh spilling forth, flooding my hungry young eyes with it’s bounty.
I’m a breast man….always have been. Some guys I know aren’t big into the whole mammary deal. I think this is because they prefer skinnier women. You see, usually along with the larger sized chest comes a fuller figure. To me, I not only don’t mind this, I prefer it. I love a woman that looks like a woman. Juicy Henry Moore-ian sways and slopes - this is what turns me on. It really only makes sense when you think about it. It’s only been fairly recently that this super-skinny convention has been forced down everyone’s throats.
To me, one of the sexiest movies of all time is ‘Woodstock’. Not only do you get all that great music, but you get to muck about in the dirt and the shit and the smell.. and roll around with a bunch of voluptuously delectable hippie chicks as they fuck and suck a bunch of skinny dudes. When you think about it, it’s kind of like my fantasy come to life.
I’m visceral.. I’m a visceral breast man.
My girlfriend has incredible jugs and a beautiful womanly body. That’s not a euphemism for out of shape or overweight, that’s just an adequate description of her. I mean I must confess I personally don’t happen to find skinny women sexually attractive. I lived with one for 3 years, and it was a disaster. We barely had sex, and when we did I had to force myself. Why did I stay with her for all those years then, you may ask…I needed a place to stay in NYC, the rent was cheap, and I was in the middle of a major depression as my band had just broken up…IF YOU MUST KNOW!
Now getting back to my present girlfriend… Would I have been with her as long if she was a skinny minny? The short answer… no. They say ‘know thyself’ and I most certainly do. I need flesh.. I need to be ensconced in the feminine form. The NATURAL feminine form that is... I don’t like all that fake breastlipsassface bullshit. That’s new…Who came up with this new ideal anyway? Who actually finds all that crap attractive besides total frat boy, small dicked meatheads? I want to be confronted with the reality of woman. I want to be assaulted with the truth behind what makes man and woman want to tear into each other. I don’t want it mitigated.
Now some arm chair psychologists might say that I’m looking to be mothered. Searching for the ultimate nurturing, maternal figure to wash away all the bad stuff that happened to me in childhood. Personally I don’t think so. To me it’s obvious. I can’t understand it when people find my taste unattractive. You see, when I speak of truth, and natural beauty and form, I mean it across the board. What gets me going sexually is a true woman’s body, completely unshaven, unobstructed, truly naked. I want a woman to look like a woman.
Now I know, a lot of you women prefer shaving, stating that you feel fresher, or less itchy, or whatever… That’s all well and fine, but as far as I’m concerned it always looks a bit like I’m fucking a child when the ole’ snatcheroo is a baldie. That’s not a turn on to me. Of course, I can look past it if I’m truly into the person I’m with.
Some men are leg men…. Some are ass worshippers..
I like legs, don’t get me wrong, and of course the ass is a treasure to behold if it’s USDA prime choice. Still, if I was going to have to join a group, it would be the breast men. In the purest sense mind you. Does this typify me? Maybe so. However, it’s simply how I’m wired… that 5 year old with the swingin’ pajama pants prick still resides in my skin, only with a far larger prick.
I never had a latency period…
….and I’m a breast man. Yes I am.
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