Tuesday, September 13, 2005

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.

9 Comments:

At 4:33 PM, Blogger cello said...

Commiserations on the nipple front. I really don't know what I'd do without mine. But have you tried the genital region at all? I've heard that works well for many.

 
At 5:04 PM, Blogger Willie Lupin said...

cello, thanks for the tip but I was rather taking the genital area as a given, the sine qua non of sexual pleasure.
But I'm told a varied selection of 'starters' is a good idea before you get to the main course.

I'm also rather deficient on the fetish front, so might ask for suggestions that don't involve pain or expensive costumes.
However, my young nieces are readers of this blog so I must be careful not to give the impression these musings are anything more than an attempt to entertain. I'd still prefer a Christmas present from Amazon to anything from Anne Summers.

 
At 8:21 PM, Blogger Unknown said...

Nipples are very overated. So Mrs Zaphod told me.

 
At 10:22 PM, Blogger portuguesa nova said...

There's always the back of the knee...and you'll never alarm your young neices by talking about back-of-the-knee escapades.

 
At 7:19 AM, Blogger patroclus said...

Have you tried your feet? Does it for me. Er, *cough*.

 
At 9:59 AM, Blogger mike said...

I have found that anything nipple-related just bloody well hurts, rather than anything else. Unfortunately, my gasps of pain tend to be misinterpreted as something quite different...

 
At 10:04 AM, Blogger Willie Lupin said...

zaphod, I am reassured by Mrs Zaphod's wise words.

pn: there's an expression here "a knee-trembler". I've never really known what it meant but perhaps you've provided a clue.

patroclus: feet don't do it for me, I'm afraid. And I think toe sucking should be a criminal offence. Well, consenting adults in private anyway.
We should probably move rapidly on or I shall be getting some very interesting Google referrals.

 
At 12:43 PM, Blogger patroclus said...

Just for the record, I didn't mean toe-sucking. More rubbing. But moving hastily on...

 
At 5:14 PM, Blogger Willie Lupin said...

Don't worry, Patroclus. I never had you down as a toe sucker.

Mike, I had the same problem at the dentist last week. He told me to raise my hand if I felt pain but I feared he might not notice so I emitted small squeals that, if he'd had several lagers, might have led him to think I was gagging for it. Women complain about this misinterpretation of signals all the time, especially when the defendant walks free. What a confusing business it all is.

 

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