Thursday, April 9, 2015

That's not exactly what I meant by a boob job, honey

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I was reading Dan Savage's advice column the other day. Savage, if you haven't heard of him, gives advice on all things sexual, and even lots of things I wouldn't consider sexy, but somebody does. It's not for the naive. Or maybe it is if you need to get up to speed. I don't read Savage Love to get ideas -- who would I use them with anyway? -- but because it's entertaining and often makes me glad I'm single.

So a woman wrote to complain about her fiance, who refused to have sex with her nearly as often as she'd like. He would, in fact, turn her down and then go beat off in another room while he watched porn. Apparently one of his kinks is super-enhanced breasts, and she doesn't have "got their own zip code" boobs, so he'd rather have sex with his computer screen. There was more to her story, but this is the part that interested me. One thing Savage advised to turn the fiance's head toward a flesh-and-blood woman is this costume that would supposedly satisfy his boob kink and entice him to release the death grip he's got on his own penis.

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And I thought Spanx™ were uncomfortable.

I couldn't help imagining how this might play out. She gets her normal woman body all dolled up in some sexy lingerie and stretches out on the bed in a seductive pose. He walks into the bedroom and says, "Oh, I see you're ready for bed. Go ahead and go to sleep. I've got myself some stuff to do on my computer."

Fine, she thinks. I'm going to take Dan Savage's advice and give him what he wants. So she  dons her red rubber cat suit with inflatable breasts and pumps those puppies up as high as they'll go with a bicycle pump.

She squeaks her way into the other room where he's pumping himself and fantasizing about rubbing his wiener between something that looks like this.

And his poor fiance, zipped up  head to toe in a giant red balloon, offers him something that looks like this.

I mean, holy watermelons, Batman! What man in his right mind wouldn't turn the computer off immediately and take her right there on the spot? I'm feeling a little flushed myownself just looking at those hot pink globes of wonder.

J.K., Dear Readers. I love boobs -- who doesn't? But those aren't boobs. They're literally flotation devices.

This is probably why I'm single, and for two-fold reasons. One, because lots of single men would rather fantasy-fuck the perfect, probably much younger, woman of their imaginations on their computers than have to look at the horrifying bodies of a real women their own age. Women who look like them, only ... you know, female.

And the second reason is that I'm not even willing to squeeze into a pair of Spanx™ to impress a man. I'm sure as hell not going to shoe-horn my entire body into a cat suit with beach-ball boobs. Honestly, if a guy couldn't get off to my luscious real breasts (because my boobs are great, just not weirdly enormous) .... if he had to look at breasts that are surgically enhanced distorted to the point that they don't look like human body parts ... well, then he really does need to go fuck himself.

And a lot of guys do just that, which is going to keep the vibrator companies in business for a very long time, because women aren't sitting around pining for the penises that will never emerge from the dim porn portals of the internet.

I'm not going off on a rant about porn, because it's here to stay. But I will say I know women in real life who struggle with this very same issue. Their husbands are cheating on them with their laptops -- and I do call it cheating if his primary sexual relationship is with the electronic images of other women. It's not just men who get turned down for sex, and I think it's happening to women more and more these days. And women are being advised by gay sex columnists to do whatever they have to do to keep up with the porn industry.

However, I'm not going to judge if you look at that stunning red cat suit and you think, Damn. I would look FINE in that shiny latex skin, and I would love to bounce those pumped up ta ta's with my guy (or gal). You should absolutely go for it. And send pics, which I will post, no questions asked.

You can tell where I stand. I'm flexible to an extent, but I would laugh so hard at even the suggestion that I put that thing on .... Ummmm ..... no and hell, no. But I don't have a dog in this fight. I don't have a relationship to save. What do you think? Would you do whatever you could to compete with the fantasy on the screen? Or would you draw the line at faking what's already a fake body part?

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