Truth: We're hard-wired to cheat.

Here's the problem. Men are programmed on a deep-seated biological/chemical level to want to fuck. The primordial drive here is to spread our seed and impregnate as many females as possible so our genetic lineage survives and so the species as a whole has a greater chance of keeping on going in the face of adversity (starvation, disease) and predators. That's kind of the whole deal for animals in general. We're animals. Get over that first stumbling block and you'll be fine.

You lay on top of that a variety of factors, like religious and cultural pressures, possibly mild to severe emotional/sexual/mental trauma, and the problems endemic to a committed, monogamous relationship and you've got yourself a powderkeg of possible infidelity.

It doesn't mean men that cheat are the devil incarnate. Shit, it likely doesn't even mean they dont' love the woman they end up cheating on. Sometimes, even, it's not about lack of respect or wanting to control a situation. I think the psychology behind understanding or attempting to understand the reasons for infidelity is probably sound, for the most part, but it's not an absolute blanket answer for all the myriad ways and reasons a man might want/need/feel like straying.

That doesn't mean the woman doesn't deserve monogamy. It's not unnatural to want it or expect it, but every man you're with wants to fuck other women. Will they act on it? Many won't. They might have a strong enough sense of moral restraint or fear of their spouse cheating, in revenge, on them. They might be worried about the effect it will have on their primary relationship. They might just be worried about going to hell or getting an STD. The point is...they never give in to their primordial fuck urge while married or in a monogamous relationship.

Now, it could be that those men just haven't had the opportunity. Maybe they are so uptight or socially awkward that they not only don't put off that "please fuck me" vibe, but also don't put themselves in any possible situation to find some strange to get up in. Maybe they're just physically repulsive or believe they are, at least, so they can't even get any flirt going.

On the other hand, if some of these "good guys" spend their lives without opportunity to cheat or, possibly, have opportunities they turn away because of a higher moral code...it's possible they will eventually break down if enough titties are thrust their way. All it takes is one "will you rub my back" to end a near-lifelong streak of fidelity and shining white-knightitude.

I have a couple of friends who have experienced almost this exact sort of arc in their lifetimes. One is a guy who had multiple chances to screw around on his rather frigid ex but did not act upon it. He hand girls putting their hands on his cock, exposing their tits, but no...he did not falter. Then, he gets married and the sex is great, but he can't stop thinking about fucking his frigid ex. One thing leads to another and then the next thing you know, he's banging his ex on a regular basis for a period of months...doing crazy, depraved shit he NEVER did with her when they were together. How did this happen? WHY did this happen? Does that make him an awful person? I'm not sure, but by all other accounts he's a stand-up guy so is this a fatal flaw? Who am I to say. It's open for discussion.

Another pal of mine has dated his current girlfriend for the past half-decade or more and they couldn't be more perfect for each other. They cuddle, kiss, and do nearly everything effusively filled with lovey-dovey demonstrative behavior. Pretty much, they're in love like whoah. The problem is, he also ends up chatting online with not one but two women that he knows as friends. He has graphic discussions with them about sex and flirts like a madman via social networking and email. He ends up getting drunk at a party and one of those girls lets him feel her up. Next party, more drunkenness and another girl lets him get his hands all up on her sweater puppies. What is it that keeps him from crossing the line entirely and violating his marital code? Opportunity, so far. Had those drunken gropes turned into a "i'll suck your cock in this here bathroom" he'd have likely gone there. Had any of those face-space conversations turned into "please come over and fuck me", he's have been running for his car-keys I'll bet you.
Does this make him a living monster? A completely soulless sociopath? Possibly. In speaking with him about and watching him with his significant other, it's clear that he has no other love but her. I know, for a fact, that he's completely dedicated to her in all other realms.

So, why must he need/want/like to fuck other women? It's the eternal conundrum that is part of being a monogamous man in the Judeo-Christian Western world, I guess, at war with the pure shagging imperative lying just below the surface at all times.

I suppose the easy solution would be to become polyamorous or some kind of swinger. Maybe have an "open relationship". Therein lies the rub, though. I've talked to my guy friends and for the most part we all want to retain the double standard. It might be one of the most egregious forms of hypocrisy, but we'd love to be able to fuck any girl we want casually, safely, and without any impact upon our relationship (read: discretely) but in no way at ALL do we think it's okay for our significant other to go out and do the same. Some of my friends are okay with the occasional three-some if it's in a controlled, planned, and approved environment. Even more of them are down with the thought (if not actual implementation) of regular girl-girl-guy threesomes with nary another cock to be found...but none are really okay with "hey, you can fuck whoever you want and I can fuck whoever I want". I know of "open relationships" like this. I even know of some people that approach friends to participate in regular swinging.

The problems that come from these "solutions" are many and multi-faceted. Chiefly, though, is being able to keep it all in check. If you decide to have a threesome with someone after years of just the two of you going at it and all that you have both built your relationship on has supposedly been about fidelity and monogamy...it can be a hairy situation if you finally do implement your freaky plan. Do you find someone who you know? If so, won't it be weird to see them outside of the "let's fuck this girl/guy until we all explode like a cum bomb and forget our own names" window of engagement? Probably. Do you find someone you don't know? How do you go about doing that? Craigslist? Ew. They could be a psycho, they could have an STD, or worse...they could end up wanting to make it more permanent. You could be staring at the end of your perfect little relationship by introducing a rogue element into play even if it was of your own making. Once that part of the "fence" is knocked down...who is to say it won't just allow wolves into your flock when you're not looking? It's a slippery slope and only the most sexually confident and completely "open" people that are entirely on the same page in terms of boundaries can accomplish it with any modicum of "grace" or long-term success.

So, I have to council my friends to keep their brushes with infidelity on the down-low as much as possible. I let them know that, if they end up faced with an opportunity to get some side-action they need to make sure discretion is in place, disease is not an issue, and definitely keep it casual. The three Ds, I suppose, of cheating. If you falter and find that you must give in to the urge to fuck the girl who works in at the same bakery as you...staying after hours because she claims she needs a backrub even though you've turned off the signs and all the lights, don't let it fuck up your real relationship.

Not sure how you really get past that part. You look at lists of "how to spot a cheater" and some of the things are just obviously dumb things that people do who just don't give a fuck anymore. If you love your significant other, however, and don't want her to know or be hurt by your need to get your wand all up in some other hoo-hah...well, it's possible for you to be fucking up some other way. Something less tangible. Maybe you've become snappish. Maybe you're not being as romantic as you used to be (I don't mean asking for sex, btw). Maybe you start trying to fuck your real girlfriend or wife in the same dirty, over-the-top, porno-style way all of a sudden. Even worse, maybe you end up wanting the kind of lascivious sexual shenanigans you get with those other girls you fuck and forget the name of...and the vanilla sex your love brings to the table just seems somewhat lacking. The worst of these intangibles would be your couplings with your long-term partner becoming as empty and disposable as the ones you have with that girl you just fucked after making a late-night booty call on the way home from the bar.

None of it's perfect. None of it has a 100% workable solution to offer. This isn't about having your cake and eating it, too. It's more about facing the truths that most men in long-term relationships have to face...either on a daily basis or at least at some point in their otherwise monogamous lifetime. We like to fuck. We want to fuck. Eventually, given situation and opportunity, we will fuck.

Those of us that don't? I suppose they're the "lucky ones". They get to retain their purity of purpose and the view available upon the moral highground you can have access to only if you've never cheated before. Once you DO cheat, you can't really point to other cheaters and judge them...at least not in the same way. Deep down inside you'll always know you're just as base and shallow and devoid of will as those you once cast terribly harsh but equally hilarious aspersions upon.

Truth: Fake Breasts are AWFUL (...unless we can't tell).

I've looked at a lot of porn in my day. All sorts. Everything from gang-banging fisting-fests to granny-fucking horse-love. Sadly, most of this has been witnessed by accident as I scoured the internet for pictures of giant titties and the curvaceous girls that are blessed with the magical orbs of justice. Walking through the gauntlet of terrible things that is the internet (and porn IS the internet, don't fool yourselves...all else is by-product) has been worth it, though, to find more and more amazing NATURAL breasts of various sizes that sit upon the female frame in such a perfect way as to emblazon their image on my mind's-eye and, yes, allowing me to jerk it good and proper to the thought later on in the evening (or, if I have time...right after I wake, but that cuts into my breakfast on occasion...but who needs breakfast, really?).

It would be an understatement to say that I have an obsession with BIG (the norm for us hetero guys...bigger the better, for the most part but we all have our cut-off of tolerable ta-ta size on either end of the spectrum), NATURAL TITS. We love the way they look packed into a sweater, buttressed by a bra, hanging freely and nipping out under a t-shirt, and (of course) completely without any accoutrement; completely nude (...and sometimes covered in oil or ice cream). The point IS...as a hetero male with a stereotypical (one might even call it the hetero male imperative leading us to copulation but based upon the formerly mentioned PRIMAL FUCK URGE) fixation on the female mammary gland, I've come to appreciate every possible variation on the basic theme of titties. Sure, I like mine a bit bigger and often on a more curvaceous frame than some men are willing to admit, but one thing MOST of us agree on is this: GIVE US NATURALS or GIVE US DEATH!

The problem with the breast jobs of the 70s and 80s is that, for the most part, they looked awful. Those that didn't LOOK awful, felt like fucking rocks and, over time, would degrade and cause awful health implications. As technology improved, the feel of the implants evolved from rock-hard to rubbery. What didn't FULLY change, though, is the look...which is initially the most important. That's the first thing that needs to seem natural or REAL to the viewing public. We need to look at those sandbags and think "holy shit! those are some amazing titties!" not "oh god, look at that girl's terrible fake boobage". I mean, I know there are some sick fucks that get off on that sort of Island of Dr. Moreau boobtastrophes...for I've seen the sites dedicated to them, but they're freak-shows and the women who are stuck with these faux-puppies are going to only get SO far. Sure, they might look okay in a push-up bra but once-released, it's clear they're impostors.

NOTE:
Part of the problem is just, well, genetics to some degree. The breast implants have to sit under the skin and, if you're a skinny little girl with no breastflesh or have been denied the power of even a B-Cup regardless of your frame...well, odds are no matter what you do there it's going to look like a painful, distended mess. A growth barely contained by your now-stretch-marked skin. I've seen many a stripper and way too many porn-stars that haven't had even a mere mosquito bite try to go up to a D-Cup and I think it's safe to say it's a terrible thing to behold and probably an even more terrible thing to live with.

So, if you're going to try to pass a golden globe off as au natural...you need to at LEAST pass the visual. If you managed to get a boob job that does that, then it needs to hang and move correctly. If it looks great when you're looking at it straight-on but takes on the proportions of an over-filled backpack when the girl bends over...well, the illusion is ruined, isn't it? I have faith that, as we speak, the ultimate fake tit is being concocted in some super-breasticle research facility in a bunker in California. Or something.

What would this ultimate super-tittay do? It would do what a fake breast HAS to do to pass the ultimate muster. It needs to do the same thing a clone would need to do for us to accept it in place of our lost dog, for instance. It would need to LOOK real, MOVE real and...(MOST importantly) FEEL real. That's right...if it's going to pass as one of Yahweh's finest milk-producing units and all-around-fun-time-device it's gotta feel as soft, pliable, and normal as the fatty glands that breasts really are. No more rubber slopes. No more stony mounds. It needs to pass the grope, the squeeze, and the juggle. Ideally, it would also pass the suck, the bite, and the motorboat tests as well. Y'know...it's kinda like a set of new tires that way.

Until then...just give us the real thing. I'll take a girl ANYDAY that might have a few extra, minor flaws but amazing, natural jugs that can be nuzzled up to on a cold winter's night or batted about like play-toys on a boring Sunday after church. It's true...many of these glorious fat deposits might be found on a girl packing a little more cushion, but most of us guys aren't as opposed to the chubby girl as we might lead you to believe...but more on that in a FUTURE entry.

Truth: Breast Reduction Surgery is AGAINST GOD!

As a red-blooded hetero male with a more-than-typical breast fixation, I have to tell you: breast reduction surgery is a horrible, terrible and awful sin that strikes out against all that's holy and destroys the beautiful, torpedo-shaped gifts our sweet, lord God hath bestowed upon you.

An overstatement, sure, but not far from the truth...about how we feel when we find out some amazingly-tittied mega-babe gets the ol' cut-up. Sure, we have no problem with breast augmentation surgery (well, some of us do...us purists...who want only the naturalest of breast-flesh to be displayed on the runway of the Oscars in a shear designer dress that cost more than most of us make in a year)...but to cut down on the cup-size simply because your BACK hurts? How selfish!

Clearly these women are NOT thinking about the wonderful gifts they bestow upon the world and it takes a truth-saying genius in the guise of a "mere comedian", Lord David Chappelle, to put a skit together that explains it all. The only sad part of that skit is, after seeing it, I didn't know whether the actress really had giant boobs or was unfortunately as flat-chested as she "wished" she could be. It's distressing because, of course, I want all giant mammaries to be real. It's a dream of mine...and likely many a cup-loving manimal out there as well.

"It's a Wonderful Chest" sketch by Dave Chappelle @ Yahoo! Video

So, that sums it up nicely, I think. I just learned about the uber-busty teen tennis sensation Simona Halep's breast reduction surgery and was saddened beyond belief. Sadder than a person should be...but that's what I'm talking about. Why did she get the cut? Well, supposedly she was tired of people making comments or digs at her in the press. Goddamn it! Can't we have anything nice? It's because of you catty bitches in the motherfucking press that this poor girl had to melt them sweater puppies down to mere speedbumps. Shame! You done pissed in the kool-aid, you hacks!

READ THIS TERRIBLE NEWS!!!

Thankfully, Anna Semenovich (seen at the bottom of the afore-linked-to article) is here with her new, giant tits...so we can cry upon them until we feel better. And, hey, hers look damned real...which is really all that matters, right? More on THAT topic later. That's a whole blog entry in and of itself.

And no, I will NEVER get over the Soleil Moon Frye thing...and neither will the rest of the heterosexual men who found their hormones shifting radically in the 80s. Sigh. Oh, Punky...

BEFORE! (glorious)



NOW... (*vomits*)



(okay, she's still pretty hot, but c'MON...did you see those bodacious ta-tas?)

Myth 2: We can't BELIEVE what that chick is wearing!

Ladies, when your guy friends or boyfriend or husband or brother sees a girl in tight-fitting or revealing clothing...something that shows off their tits, cleavage, ass, or even vagina...and claim they are offended or put-off by it: don't believe them.

I mean, sure, we might think the girl with the camel-toe or clearly-visible pantyline is kinda tacky, but we're also thinking about sex INSTANTLY upon seeing the outline of her vagina or when a girl is nipping out. We LOVE that sort of thing, even if it's on that deeply-seated PRIMAL FUCK level. Again, it might not even be conscious, but we are instantly turned on...if even just slightly.

We SAY "God, what a slut...I can't believe she's wearing that." or, at the very least, agree with you via nod when YOU say it, but in reality we're probably entranced by the fact that the woman in question wore something in public that almost entirely reveals her tits or rides so far up her ass as to almost appear painted on. Maybe she did it on purpose to get attention or maybe she's just completely unaware of what NOT to wear to the supermarket. It doesn't matter. We're interested, even if we don't want to admit it.

Heck, we might even go on about it and try to follow said subject with you in tow under the auspices of laughing at or criticizing the girl from afar for a bit longer, but what we're really trying to do is prolong the experience of checking out this hoochie. In fact, it might even be a thrill to do this in your presence. Maybe we like the idea that we're getting away with something. Maybe we like that you think we're not a total pig...when in reality that's the CORE of what we are.

More on being a "pig" later...but be advised: We WILL be jerking it to thoughts of that girl who works at the coffee-shop down the street that always seems to forget to wear a bra ("gah, how tacky!)...but don't worry, we'll probably wait to do it until after you go to sleep.

Myth 1: We think about sex ALL the time.

No. Not all the time. There are plenty of moments where we can focus on a video-game or something DVRed from the syfy channel...but for the most part sex crosses our minds every few minutes at least. The thing is, it's often not a fully-formed thought or even, possibly, a conscious thought...but it's there.

Just thinking about thinking about sex has me thinking about sex and slightly aroused. Not turned on to the point of erection but, yeah, kinda tingly.

I saw Serena (or is it Venus) Williams on a talk show just a bit ago and kept thinking about her breasts and looking at her lips. Sure, her arms are too muscled for my tastes but the point is...I was thinking about sex. I didn't get to the fantasy portion of the "sex thought game" but I paid attention to her fairly closely. I don't even like tennis.

Wait, I take that back. I like ladies tennis because of the skirts and the grunts and the occasional breast bounce. What's not to like? It's some sort of super-active fully-clothed sex fantasy in and of itself.

More on thinking about sex in future posts but, let's be clear...it's not ALL the time...just MOST of the time.