Why men shouldn't taste fresh breast milk

There’s no view quite like the cleavage. You could spend a fortune just to be on the Swiss Alps, but you always go back to the cleavage. If you don’t, you are, by any rational definition, not a man. And if you are a woman reading this, I’m sorry, but that’s just the way things are. Women might get offended by what I’m going to write next, so listen to me, take my advice, click here http://pittcenter.com/ and improve your cleavage. Men, read on.

I am by no means a marriage counselor, but sharing with you how I tasted breast milk might show you what marriage is all about from a different perspective. You can only read this here. This kind of thing is never published in women’s magazines (which actually contain more adverts than articles). So read attentively. Intimacy doesn’t necessarily mean sex, and never guarantees the non-existence of flirtatious fling (I call it mid-life crisis, which is forgiven) or extra-marital affairs (which I call stupidity).

Yes, breast milk! You’ve tasted it too when you were small, but obviously don’t remember it. By baby’s standards, I guarantee you this – it’s very delicious! And no, I didn’t find that out through sexual exploration.

Let me explain my golden discovery by telling you about new mothers. By that, I mean mothers with newborns. So even if the newborn is her third child, she is still a “new” mother. Or “renewed” if you want to call her. Every time a mother gives birth, her breasts become an ISO-certified manufacturer of lactose. The production never ceases, and because of that, delivery has to be done even if the demand ceases. Otherwise, the breasts become full-bodied (looking very sexy actually) and painful to the mother.

Some breasts can be pumped using a specifically designed apparatus. Some just need that un-plastic feeling of another human being. So now comes mighty daddy with all the suckling power of a GT-race car’s 500 horsepower air-suction valve (I don’t understand this either, but it feels good when you associate men with cars). What I did was what babies would do, except that I spat it out. What a waste of milk, obviously. But what upsets me most in exercises like these is that what almost burst out of the bra, now fit just nice.

And NO, I did not derive any sexual pleasure out of this. If anything, I felt more like I was doing CPR. As a result, I couldn’t “get it on” for the next 2 weeks. If you’re a man reading this, take my advice, avoid something like this if you want to get your mojo working all year round. And especially if your will is not strong enough to avoid the “stupidity” I mentioned before. And if you are a woman reading this, shame on you! This goes to show that women never listen!

And to think that my writing surpassed Brad Pitt’s website!