Wikipedia says the following about nipples:
Because the “female template” is the default for humans, the question is not why evolution has not selected against male nipples, but why it would be advantageous to select against male nipples to begin with.
Personally I never had a thing for nipples, regardless of what gender they belong to. I never enjoyed a Guy biting mine, no matter how tenderly he tried it.
Except this one time with Guy #53.
Well, two times actually.
Guy #53 was the type that spent a respectable amount of hours in the gym. He took good care of his body. I could tell he was good at taking care of his body, because he took good care of mine too.
What should I make for dinner?
Did Hitler really have only one testicle?
Is it cauli flower or cauliflower?
Those are the kind of thoughts that fill my mind during mediocre sex. The better the sex, the less I think about Hitler’s testicle.
The moment someone starts giving my nipples some teeth action, gravity kicks in and I crash land back on Earth, in the here and now. Nipple action makes me want to abandon sex. No matter how gentle, nipple pain serves no evolutionary purpose. Wikipedia says so.
Yet for some reason Guy #53 knew exactly what made me feel good. We didn’t have a very strong connection, but he was simply incredibly good at lovemaking. His actions were very considerate but equally focused on his target: Me.
So when he started doing his routine on my nipples, gravity did not show up for work.
Guy #53 visited me in my hotel room on two occasions. The second one was the best, because I got to spend a few days looking forward to it.
In terms of sex dates, Guy #53 was probably the best I ever had. The sex defied gravity and there was no emotional bond to worry about.
I hope for his sake he also became skilled in letting gravity do its work. Part of me wanted to get to know Guy #53 better. It just wasn’t on my mind while I was caught up in his teeth action. That’s how good he was. At everything. Twice.
Dates like the ones with Guy #53 make you feel less silly for hooking with random Guys. My sex dates generally featured a lot of social awkwardness. This time the word social was wholly and exclusively expressed in the sex. It was everything a sex date should be and, more importantly, it wasn’t what it shouldn’t be.
I remember nothing of our conversations. The only thing I do remember is how satisfied I felt afterward.
Guy #53 had made me thankful for my nipples.