Why do men like breasts?

Men like breasts: it’s a fact. Big ones, bouncy ones, real ones, little ones, fake ones, pink ones, black ones and even ones belonging to blue-skinned aliens with overly large eyes. Breasts are nice. But why do men like breasts so much? Well, that’s a whole different thing…

According to UK trash tabloid the Daily Mail, researchers at the University of Wellington found that “virtually half – 47 per cent – of men first glance at a woman’s chest.” A third of male test subjects were fixated on the waist and hips, with less than 20 percent looking at the woman’s face.

This is compelling (and rather unnecessary) evidence regarding the male obsession with breasts, but still the question remains: Why?

Remember Breasts in the Good Old Days

To be honest, you probably don’t actually remember the good old days of happily suckling on your mother’s breast. Subliminally, however, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more blissful period of existence.

When you were a baby, you could scream, cry and vomit all day long and you’d still have breasts stuck in your face at regular intervals.

In adulthood, this kind of behavior is rarely rewarded with such delightful treats. Granted, the breasts belonged to your mother (probably), a scenario which is best forgotten.

Whatever, my point is this: a man’s subconscious longing for big, healthy breasts (or little, healthy breasts) is a powerful force instilled in us from Day One. So maybe you should forgive us for not looking at your face. Blame our mothers and, in turn, nature as a whole.

Really beautiful breasts

Here we can see the wonderful flow and symmetry of the female form.

Men Like Breasts Because They Look Nice

Yep, maybe it’s just a simple matter of aesthetics. We can look at the night sky and marvel at the waxing moon and the Milky Way; we can admire the delicate weightlessness of a pink balloon; and, in the same way, we can appreciate the gentle bobble and sway of your firm boobies as you jog past us in slow motion wearing tight gray running pants and a tiny little white Adidas t-shirt with pink trim. Oh, yes, we can. It’s not our fault. Nature’s Grand Design is full of wonders.

Chest Buttocks

A long time ago, hairy women decided to start walking on two legs rather than bounding around using all fours like a baboon. Walking in an upright manner was highly beneficial, especially for waitresses. But there was one major drawback: Before they stopped dragging the knuckles along the floor, these hirsute females displayed their willingness for man-meat by sticking their asses in the air.

This was a good ploy for part-time quadrupeds, but somewhat troublesome when going about your daily routine in an upright position. Being upright, it wasn’t so easy to stick your ass right up into the air to attract a passing male.

What to do, then? Easy… grow some sexy pseudo-buttocks on your chest. Thank you, Evolution.

With these babies up front, the whole ass thing was not quite so important. Evolution, being awesome, left men with butts and boobs to look at (at this point in history, the female face was about as sexually tempting as a gnarled left knee).

Scientists, being useless with both women and words, dubbed this cleavage/buttock mirroring process “genital echo theory.” That sounds messed up, really, but that’s what we got.

Look at My Breasts, I’m Fertile, Yay!

Berry-gathering monkey women stuck their behinds in the air in attempt to bag a mate. It was a sign of fertility and a blatant display of readiness for a bit of baby making. For monkey men, this act also made it clear that there was indeed a woman under all that hair.

Breasts have a similar function in modern society (thankfully, the hair situation is largely under control, with the exception of rural France).

Breasts let a man know that a woman is of childbearing age, a fertile ground in which to plant seed. The very sight of these pendulous pompoms sets off a chain reaction in the male chemical make-up – the visual stimulus bypasses the male brain almost entirely, triggering an override switch located in the lower decks.

In this state, the male subject is capable of staring at a single pair of breasts for over four hours without a single thought passing through his brain. Quite marvelous, really.

He Likes Breasts, I like Breasts, We All Like Breasts

Peer pressure could account, in part, for the male breast fixation. As men, we are supposed to like breasts. Among heterosexual males, “are you a tits or ass man?” is a standard conversation starter. “Do you like breasts?” however, is a distinct nonstarter, because the answer is never in doubt.

The media also puts breasts on a pedestal (a strange image indeed). Actually, the media more often puts breasts on posters, advertisements and in a variety of adult and non-adult magazines. Breasts help to sell many products, from beer to cars to GoDaddy website hosting.

If a man openly dislikes breasts, he risks social isolation and ridicule. The fear of breasts (mastrophobia, also known as mammophobia) is a serious problem.

For Your Own Sake, Bring Me My Nipple Clamps!

Having a good breast fondle is not a selfish act. A man may derive considerable pleasure from a frolic with the fun bags while also pleasuring the owner of the aforementioned bags of fun.

Breasts are a primary erogenous zone, the touching, fondling, and kissing of which promotes naughty thoughts within even the most chaste of female subjects. If a man knows what he’s doing, he can pleasure a woman by simply caressing her bazookas for half an hour.

Perhaps, therefore, the reason why men like breasts so much is simply because we’re incredibly considerate. We watch them bouncing up and down like two skinheads on a seesaw, and we think to ourselves, “I want to dive right in there just so I can make her feel like a princess.” Perhaps. But probably not.