On passing a clothes shop I had to look twice. It’s not something I’d usually do, but it was one of those I-can’t-believe-it moments. A male dummy stood in the window, wearing a hat, T-shirt and jeans and it looked really quite fashionable, at first glance. Except on second glance there was an appreciable difference to other male dummys. In particular because of two things pointing out. This male mannequin had tits.
It reminded me of a couple of events. How as a slowly increasing pot bellied man I’ve began to acquire my own mammaries much to my own embarrassment. It’s a weight thing, and of the time when I went in the men’s changing room to change for gym, I was slimmer then. I saw a body builder put on his T-shirt, replete with his very own size A’s. It was like seeing something you didn’t want to see but at the same time couldn’t help watching. Kind of macabre. The worse thing was they were actually saggy. It’s also at times like this you can’t but question your own sexuality. I wondered, did I stare because it was weird or was it because of some underlying sexual fantasy of wanting my own boobs to play with? I hope it was the first.
If anyone was into steroids this was the kind of incident would likely send a chilling message. But still with weight gain I’ve noticed men gain a little extra where they’d rather shouldn’t, not if they’re a man.
I passed the shop and couldn’t help laugh. Fortunately I’ve been to the gym twice this week. That’s twice in 5 months. Maybe next time I’ll do an extra 5 minutes on the tread mill. And not too energetically, I don’t want my little boobs bobbing about and people getting to ogle at them.
No comments:
Post a Comment