In Defense Of Breast

Breast. Guys love them, undeniably. Just about any heterosexual male would easily put looking at breast at the top of their list of favorite things to do, just slightly behind playing with them. But why? Why the infatuation with big, round, full breast? That beautiful, curvaceous swell, heaving slightly in rhythm to her breath, while the perfect nipple stands….sorry. Got distracted.

To the female, a male’s obsession with mammary glands may seem odd, if not extreme. Where does the attraction stem from? Is it just part of an Oedipus complex? Appreciation of symmetry? Is it a learned behavior, or are we just sex-starved idiots? Maybe even a mixture of all of the above?

You might be surprised, but the reason guys like breast is because we have to. We have no choice, it’s encoded in our being and nothing can change it. It’s not TV, girls in skimpy outfits, or sexist beer advertisements that fuel our attraction to round things. I can promise you this, it’s not learned behavior. You could take a male baby and leave him in the woods to be raised by squirrels. He could live his entire life never seeing another human being, let alone a developed female. You could keep him ignorant of the existence of breast, and it still wouldn’t matter. As soon as he hits puberty, he’s going to leave the tree, leave his adopted squirrel family behind, and venture to the city looking for a strip club with his fists full of nuts (so to speak) to put down their g-strings. Ignorant of the appeal of the opposite sex’s desirability or not, it’s in his nature. Why?

It’s in our DNA. You might as well ask why we eat, or breath air. Procreation is one of man’s basic survival instincts. Food, shelter, sex. Deep down, buried between “Eat to live” and “Beat everything that challenges you over the head with a blunt instrument” is, “Get every able bodied female pregnant to insure your genes are passed on to another generation.”

Yes, modern society has changed and evolved. Our needs and have become different, but our genes don’t give a damn about over population, women’s lib, equal rights, or any of the other accomplishments civilization has worked so hard to achieve. Even the most educated, well learned, intelligent male still has that instinct screaming at him daily, “Quick, have sex with her, and her, and her, and him, and…wait, scratch that last one.”

The fixation with breast comes from the survival of the species. Early man worshiped full figured statues of large breasted fertility gods because they understood where life came from and who was truly responsible for their tribe’s survival. It came not only from impregnating the female tribe members and keeping them safe from harm, but being sure to “knock up that one with the big breast, she can nurse a lot of kids.” A robust, healthy chested female could not only bare and nurse many offsprings, but also protect them, allowing the primitive man to go out hunting, knowing the female was capable of taking care of everything on the home front.

When I was eight, my brother came home on shore leave from the Navy. I was digging through his duffle bag when he was gone because, well, it’s what eight year olds do. While rummaging through his belongings, I stumbled across his pack of nudie playing cards. Each card featuring a picture of a different nude female. Up until that moment, I had never seen an exposed breast. My boys hadn’t dropped yet, and puberty and testosterone were still years away. Even without the hormone’s I was still mesmerized by the deck. It wasn’t coming from below the waist, it was that part of human instinct kicking in. Eight year olds don’t get hard ons, but I’d dig that pack out every chance I could get and just stare at their breast, not even understanding what the appeal was.

Now, that being said, yes the urge is natural. But we also haven’t put down thousands upon thousands of years of human history to be complete primitive animals concerning the subject. The instinct is there, but we’ve also evolved enough to have more refined taste in the matter.

Most guys are still close enough to our early ancestors in development to have the same taste as Bill. His quote; “I don’t see what all the fuss is over girls with triple D breast. Not when there’s triple E’s, F’s, and G’s.” While the animal side demands larger, a civilized mind can have more refined taste.

Now, myself, I’m all about the itty bitty titties. Numerous reasons. The first being my ability to see the big picture. I like nice little butts more then big tits and the two seldom coincide together naturally. That, and big titties now tends to mean droopage and a big ass later down the road. Real tits rock. Secondly, I just don’t have the same large breasted fetish most guys do. I think it comes in part from never having been breast-feed. My mom’s defense is that I was “allergic” to her milk. Honestly, I think it was just because she didn’t like me much.

To me a mouthful and a handful are more than enough to make me happy though. Small nipples, all the better. Though no preference of personal taste matters if I just like the girl. I’ve dated mostly small breasted girls, but have went out with a few girls with large ta-ta’s. Given the choice though – I’ll go for flat and smart over big breasted and stupid.

Final word to females, no matter how small your breast are, as long as you show anything resembling cleavage, guy’s will notice you. You’re appealing to his animal nature, which doesn’t take much. It’s hard not to notice, on pretty much all the social networks, that the more flesh a girl shows in her pictures, the more males she tends to have on her friends list. When hunting for a man, what you capture will depend on the bait you use. If you use your tits to capture a guy, don’t be surprised when he later leaves you for a bigger pair once yours start sagging.