Maybe it’s because I’m older, or perhaps because I’m a man, when someone with B or C or sometimeseven D cup breasts say “hope they’re not too small” I wonder how big they imagine breasts are “supposed” to be. And according to who?
And maybe it’s because I’m a man but I wonder if it’s like men worrying their dicks are small, even when they’re average or even bigger than average.
It’s not that breasts or dicks are never small. It’s that a) it rarely seems to matter as much to their partners as it does to them, and b) very often the person would look funny or even disproportionate if their bits were bigger.
I’m asking because it seems like such a source of radically unnecessary suffering.
So many women practically apologize for having breasts smaller than cantaloupes. Or watermelons. As if size was the only thing that could possibly matter. And that the only thing better than big breasts are even bigger ones.
I’ll just say the same thing women say about dick size: aside from the occasional fetishist it’s surprisingly irrelevant to members of the opposite sex.
I’ll never be judgmental about body parts when we really don’t have much say about what nature gives us.
But I’ll cheerfully be judgmental as hell about being judging yourself or comparing yourself to others. It’s the source of too much self-imposed suffering.
Soft cotton or wool tops are as lovely as the slinkiest lingerie from Vicky S, carryokie, and besides what really always matters is that it’s you underneath.
Assholes showing off obscene wealth advocating crime isn’t offensive.
You want to know what’s offensive?
Nipples, that’s what!
According to Tumblr anyway.
Oh, and not all nipples of course. Only “female-presenting” nipples.
Thing is I like your nipples! They’re cute! Sexy. Eye catching. They feel nice. They make me genuinely happy.
Unlike guns, smoking, extremists, drug and alcohol abuse, gangs, and conspicuous consumption, which make most people feel unhappy. (Even the gun, smoking, drugs, and wealth lovers, every one of whom is unhappy because they can never, ever get enough of that shit.)
Nipples though? Because like Good Omens’ Sergeant Shadwell I really only need your two to be happy. And all the rest of you too, pumpkin.
By Thomas Oldenough | May 26, 2019 | Comments Off on so if you were working late or studying and tense and stress then of course I’d rub your shoulders…
Ok. So. Years ago, maybe before you were even born, I wound up sitting in on a lymphatic drainage workshop for massage therapists. I never became licensed but I’d gotten a ton of physiology, anatomy, and massage training as a teenager. So I was sitting in on this class and the instructor, without missing a beat, veers off into an extended session on breast massage. She editorialized that breasts and the underlying anatomy were grossly neglected for women clients, and said they should be treated like any other part of the body. And then proceeded to explain how to massage breasts in meticulous detail.
No, we didn’t practice on each other, and since I was only sitting in I wouldn’t have been partnered with anyone. But it was one of those great moments where you distinguish the social significance of something vs its mundane reality.
And so if you were working late or studying and tense and stress then of course I’d rub your shoulders – your scalenes and levators, trapezius and sternocleidomastoids, and your lats, rhomboids, your teres major and minor, your subscpularis and supraspinatus too! But I’d also rub your deltoids, pesc major and minor. Oh, and squeeze and stroke your breasts too, because it feels good, sure, but because I always worry, as did the instructor so many years ago, that I don’t give them enough attention when I’m not trying to seduce you too.
