It’s an interesting moment when you find both you and the man in your life staring intently at your boobs and realize that you are thinking two COMPLETELY different things. While you’re fixated on that errant nipple hair that keeps sprouting back, he’s thinking about how he wants to take you into the bedroom and put nipple clamps on you and see what happens.
A woman’s relationship with her tits is fundamentally complex — sure, it feels good to have her nipples licked, but she’s also constantly aware of how her breasts affect her self-esteem, how they compare to her favorite celebrity’s rack, how they behave when she goes jogging, what they’ll do if she ever gets pregnant, and that mean thing Kara Grossman said about her areolas in the locker room in 7th grade. To him, they are two sexy playthings, nothing more. This can create some hilarious contrast in each gender’s boob-related inner monologue. For example…
Her: I hope he doesn’t do that annoying thing where he puts his hand up my shirt and twists my nipples.
Him: Her boobs are my toys and the nipples are the wind-up gear.
Him: How does she resist playing with her own boobs all day?
Her: Ugh, I need to do my breast self-exam soon to get my gyno off my ass.
Her: Shit, I hope he doesn’t see my budding nipple hair growing back.
Him: I just realized her nipples taste exactly like apricots.
Her: Oh God, they look really saggy from this angle.
Him: Her boobs look amazing right now.
Her: They feel so heavy and sore today, am I supposed to get my period.
Him: I think her boobs grew! There is a God.
Her: My boobs are so conic and weird.
Him: Her boobs are so conic and wonderful.
Her: I wish my boobs looked more like Kate Upton’s.
Him: I wonder what Kate Upton would look like sucking on her tits.
Her: How can he find it sexy slapping my boobs together like two bouncy pancakes?
Him: I love pancakes.