You know how guys get a bad rap for shamelessly checking out women’s boobs (and asses) at the gym? Well it’s obvious why. I mean it’s only natural to check out the opposite sex — or the same sex for my gay readers — whatever floats your boat. Or nobody, I guess if you are asexual at which point I have really lost interest in you. Anyhow I digress…
So, we are at the gym. There is boob and ass checking out going on. I’d like to ask a guy in what order he checks a girl out. I would have to wager that face comes in at least third, after other body parts. I could be wrong but fellahs whaddya reckon? Be honest and let me know what you think.
I normally look at faces first. Then bodies. That’s me. I don’t know how it is for other chicks but I would imagine that many others have the same MO. You’ll have to let me know, ladies. Don’t be shy.
Well I am writing about all of this because I have taken to shamelessly (God I hate split infinitives but…) ogling boobs at the gym. Except that mostly they’re my own boobs. Sorry but I just can’t stop looking at them. I mean there are mirrors everywhere and they look so different from the gravity defying boulders I had in there only five weeks ago. It’s kind of hard not to stare as I go up and down during squats, stand in front of a mirror doing bicep curls, what have you. And they do provide a handy focal point when I am trying to use core strength and balance.
Once in a while I cop a feel too. Even before I check to see if someone is looking. Not a whole handful deal but sort of a side feel – so it’s kind of subtle. I just don’t give a fuck anymore what someone else thinks. And I am still getting used to these babies. They’re still settling in. I mean I have to feel them once in a while for quality control, to test out the texture and to see if they are indeed real (I use this term relatively, people, as in really part of my body now, rather than “real” breasts. Duh).
My gym is pretty relaxed so I don’t suppose anyone cares if I feel myself up in between lunges or yank the front of my cute sports top down a little to examine my new cleavage and see if the twins are napping.
And at the end of the day I really do feel sort of male about the whole thing. I do it because I can’t help myself.
I am sure the novelty will wear off after a while and I won’t do it as much. And that’s where I diverge from the male species unless someone has a good argument that men stop doing that because the novelty of boobs and other female body parts ever wears off. Please.
Oh well, we’ll see what the future brings. For now just call me one of the guys.