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I'm curious why female breasts are objects of sexual attraction. It doesn't have any sexual functions. I heard breast isn't considered sexual in some cultures.. Anyone??? >>
Sexual dimorphism. In many species, the male and female are virtually identical on the exterior. (You will seldom see turtles getting hot for each other.) In others, including humans, the male and the female look quite distinctly different. This "otherness" leads to a fascination with the body of the opposite sex. The most striking differences merit the most attention. In the case of women, the most obvious outward signs of womanhood are the wide hips and narrow waist, the generally smaller overall body size, the classic feminine facial structure, and the breasts. The breasts are the only prominent external features that the male lacks, and so he is naturally drawn to them.
Symbolism. There is a symbolic association between breasts and femininity, and so ultimately between breasts and sex itself. This association is constantly reinforced by advertising. While the female genitals may be more accurately symbolic of the power women exercise over men, the pudendum can remain concealed, secret, unknowable until willfully brought forth. Breasts, however, cannot be effectively disguised, only covered, and are more often showcased by clothing that calls attention to them. Therefore, they are available to be gaped at all the time, and as a result are the object of constant admiration, comparison, and fantasy. In fact, perhaps due to their perceived metaphorical significance as the instrument by which women are able to rule men, the vulva have become taboo while the breasts have been glorified. This has been true in some form throughout history. The more misogynous the culture, the more profane the female reproductive organs become, even as phallic imagery is sanctified. That's a definite double standard here in America. Men are encouraged to be proud of their cocks, even competitive. Women are encouraged to be embarrassed or even ashamed of their plumbing--it's widely represented as something nasty. In fact, the medical term for the external female genitalia, pudendum, (or pudenda if you encounter more than one pudendum at a time, which classifies you as quite lucky) comes from the Latin word pudendus, which means "that of which one ought to be ashamed," believe it or not. It makes sense that because breast-worship causes women to be passively subject to male appraisal, it would be a fixture of a society that represses the unfettered expression of female sexuality, as so many Western, Judeo-Christian civilizations do. (Ah, I love a good sociological tirade, don't you?)
Mystery. The fact that they are forbidden from full view, and cloaked in polite mixed company, makes breasts seem enigmatic and enticing. For both men and women, what is not allowed is often thrilling. The very fact that breasts are not permitted to be completely exposed except under special circumstances causes them to take on new, dramatic significance. During eras in the past when it was mandatory that skirts reach the floor, the glimpse of a woman's ankle was enough to make a man sweat and squirm.
The Madonna phenomenon. Here I allude to the Holy Mother, not to the inexplicably famous pop singer/slut. Breasts are often subconsciously linked to nurturing. The connection between breasts and motherhood is literal. Some psychologists see a fixation with breasts as a manifestation of a man's desire to be taken care of by a woman.
Genetic programming. Since prehistory, men have been wired to desire most the women who would make good child-bearers. Wide, sturdy hips and large breasts would be (apparent) aspects of this quality. (More so in paleolithic days than in this age of sterile, high-tech hospital delivery rooms, but old habits die hard.)
Beauty. Men's sexuality, as I have stated previously, is visually based. Breasts are one feature (well, two features, I guess) of the purely aesthetic appeal of the womanly form. This is analogous to the way that women may find rippling muscles attractive in men, but there is a major contrast here: for most women, the aesthetic appeal of a man's body is usually not directly sexual. That is, it is not usually enough, by itself, to elevate her to a high state of sexual arousal, whereas many (perhaps most) men can approach ejaculation through visual input alone. The majority of women do not find the sight of a handsome, sexy man quite that sexually stimulating, merely pleasant. (There are, of course, exceptions. I once knew a woman named Hazel who would achieve seismic orgasms when shown pictures of Grover Cleveland.) Visual pornography is still marketed primarily towards men. Women are a tough target audience for sleaze, because even the visual aspect of their sexuality is more sophisticated than men's, and moreover more difficult to cater to. (Dirty books are another matter.)
Nerve concentration. For a significant percentage of women, the breasts are among the most erogenous zones on their bodies. Hence, they respond to stimulation of the breasts during lovemaking with clear symptoms of excitement, and men dig that. (Although most men are much more excited to be fondling a woman's breasts than most women are about having their breasts fondled.) This leads me to . . .
Sexual, er, utility. While I do not wish to be tacky and tasteless here (ha ha), there is a certain, well, thing which can be done in bed with a well-endowed woman which is not possible with a flat-chested one. This activity has the advantages of being conducive to neither pregnancy nor infection, while remaining erotic and fulfilling for both participants. (If you're into that kind of stuff.) I will offer no further detail, lest this essay slip over the line. Consult a manual. (Remember that song "Pearl Necklace" by ZZ Top?) And then there is also the fact that large breasts are simply a lot of fun to play with. The breasts are also much easier for the man to find than, say, the reclusive clitoris or the fabled G-spot. Most men need a road map to locate either of those, and it's partly because so many women refuse to offer guidance in the form of "higher, lower, left, right, stop: that's it. Aaah. Now faster, slower, harder, softer--AAAAIIIE!" (That last exclamation may mean that you have elevated your lover to the summit of rapture, or that your elbow is on her hair. You will not know. Women don't want to have to tell you what to do, they just want you to do it. They are afraid that they will sound like cheap whores if they say, "hey, Ralph, how about a little more tongue extension on the up stroke?") Again, women's reluctance to discuss their own sex organs or sexual preferences stems from Western society's disdain for women who express their sexual freedom and power. Since sexually liberated women would pose a threat to male domination, and since men have been making the rules for quite a while, this tragic abomination is nonetheless understandable. And so meanwhile, many men who want to bring their mates ballistic joy must resort to trial and error tactics. Incidentally, the Grafenburg spot ("discovered" by Ernst Grafenburg, the German gynecologist), due to its position deep on the anterior wall of the vagina, and due to the anatomic structure of the fingers, wrist, and arm, is nearly impossible for most women to reach without help. This has led them to believe that not only is God a man, he is a cruel bastard. The dilemma was solved, however, in the early nineteenth century, when women working at large, vibrating sewing machines in textile mills became suspiciously eager to work lots of overtime. Shortly thereafter, physicians of the era began using a primitive vibrating contrivance to induce "paroxysms" in women, a technique which was believed to cure "hysteria." (Hystera is the Greek word for "womb.") Needless to say, this treatment was quite popular with patients. To this day, that same technology begs the question: is the penis obsolete? Well, true, few men can provide their lovers with the kind of frenzied, toe-curling, back-arching, primal-shriek-producing tremors that a woman can give herself with the aid of a small rod of UL-approved humming plastic (and those of us who can refuse to divulge our trade secrets), but then again, only a real, live, flesh-and-blood man is capable of forgetting your birthday or insulting your mother. Hmm, I seem to have gotten off track. Where was I? Oh yes, why men like breasts.
Why Men Like Breasts
