Hit and run blogsplurge #4.

One happy outcome of the whole Big Blogger experience has been making the acquaintance of a whole bunch of new-to-me bloggers… such as the Girl With A One Track Mind. Naturally – and because I make it my business to track such trends – I was aware of her “raunchy” reputation, and of the “buzz” which surrounded her (mugs to camera, Norton-style), but I had been operating under the glib assumption that nothing on a heterosexual woman’s fairly explicit sex-blog could possibly be of interest to me.

(We’ll leave Belle De Jour out of this. Please see what I said below about rules and exceptions.)

I was wrong, though. To me, the most interesting of The Girl’s doubtlessly vast array of skills (mugs to camera again) is that she is able to write about sex in a way that amuses/enlightens/informs, rather than merely titillates. (Although having said that, titillation is not exactly shied away from. And quite right too.) The overall effect is akin to reading a travelogue of an exotic far-off country which you know you’ll never visit. (Or something. I’m extemporising wildly here.)

Anyway, there I was, reading all about The Girl’s annoyance with some random bloke who couldn’t stop staring at her tits, when I suddenly realised that, blimey, I actually had common cause with the random bloke in question. Yes, readers! I admit it! Sometimes, I find it almost impossible NOT to stare at female cleavage – and I speak as someone who is well aware of the mixed messages which this sends out.

In my case, I think it’s a reflex reaction born out of a shyness in making direct eye contact. Much safer (for me at least) to let the eyes drift downwards, and into the warm safety of the female bosom. Why, sometimes I can almost hear myself think… “Mummy”.

Terrible, really. Especially when you realise you’ve been busted, as the woman in question hastily, nervously rearranges her decolletage – like something must be wrong down there. After all, what other explanation could there be?

My name is Mike. I am a fully paid-up homosexualist, and I like staring at women’s tits.

(Bloggers! You know those days when you feel like you’ve said everything there is to be said? Well, today isn’t one of them.)

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