Good For Nothing Tits

When I used the phrase "getting on my tits" in the comment box today it prompted some rather unwelcome post-luncheon reflections.
You see, the male nipple is an erogenous zone. But, owing to a cock-up on the DNA front, my nipples remain resolutely unresponsive to stimulation by either myself or others.
I am somewhat pissed off about this.
Humans have a very limited number of erogenous zones and to discover that they are not all present and correct indicates shoddy work in the supplies department. Pretty poor show, in my view.

Was I at the back of the queue when they were being handed out?
"Sorry, mate. We're right out of nipple zones. Tell you what I'll do: I'll give you extra in the ear department."
That would at least explain why an evening spent with a young man from the Indian sub-continent shouting into my ear above a deafening pub jukebox that he was as straight as the starched hem of his mother's sari, ended with us road testing the Kama Sutra in a four poster bed.
But I cannot be definitive about this. I do not know what the industry benchmark is for aural stimulation. That incident stands out because few, if any, others have taken such a direct route to the appropriate neurotransmitters in my brain. A few large vodkas have usually done the trick, although that's more expensive and with a longer-burning fuse. And there is always the possibility that the Indian's breath was laced with hot chilli and other exotic, aphrodisiac spices, which some might say was cheating.

The only consolation for the failure of my nipples to rise to the occasion would be the discovery of some other erogenous zone unique to myself. After all, when God shuts a door he always leaves a window open. But where to begin to look? I suppose a masseur would be the obvious starting point. I've heard that some of them offer extra services. But we don't have a massage parlour in the village.

I could ask the village barber. He sometimes asks 'Will there be anything else?' and when I say 'no' adds 'Anything planned for the weekend?'
'Be so good as to just thrust the cold steel of that electric trimmer down the nape of my neck again, would you? There was definitely a suspicion of a frisson there although to call it a zone might be premature. But throw that cape back over me just to be on the safe side.'

On second thoughts, I have to live here. Best to stick to 'just a quick tidy up and straight at the back' (bet Toni and Guy don't say that to their clients).
In any case, finding new erogenous zones at my age would be as much use as installing a condom machine in a eunuch colony.
So unless you've any better ideas, I'm going to play a Bollywood soundtrack and stick the hairdryer in my ear. And if I feel a right tit, that will still be a first for me.