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Click on this link to buy your copy of Tidy up on your way out and I will donate £1.00 to the Bosom buddies charity. The Kindle book is less than £3.00. P.S did you know you can download a Kindle reader for your iPad or iPod for free?

On the matter of breasts

Ever since one of my schoolboy friends typed the number 58008 into a calculator, turned it upside down and held it in front of my face I have been intrigued and fascinated with boobs.

My parents couldn’t afford foreign holidays, depriving me of the opportunity to see a pair for real (with the obvious exception of my mothers – they do not count) until Jennifer kindly obliged by letting me have a peak in the playground. I was ten and so was she. Given that her chest did not look any different from mine I was underwhelmed, but she still counted. The pace of female development accelerated in senior school and I became very aware of the multitude and diversity of the emerging jumper bumps amongst the girls in my class. Unfortunately this surge in chest development coincided with a collapse in my self-confidence and it was to be another six years, post Jennifer, before I was to behold my first proper real life pair of full-grown knockers.

A couple of the more confident boys in my year claimed to have seen lots of boobs. I had no reason to doubt them and their anatomical descriptions appeared to have been correct, even in hindsight (although some of them had access to research material of a pornographic nature so they may have fabricated or at least embellished the stories). The nearest I got to porn as a youngster was reading a magazine called ‘Man and Woman’ that someone on my paper round was brave enough to order and have delivered from their local newsagent. They were at the beginning of my paper round so every other Tuesday I would reverse the order of my deliveries to give me maximum time with the intriguing magazine.

At an early age I showed no leaning towards any particular breast shape or size . Instead I just focussed on the process of feeling them, firstly outside clothing and then the ultimate challenge, the removal of a bra. This seemingly innocuous task (when seen from a woman’s perspective) is an incredibly important rite of passage. I had the good fortune of developing early mastery of this complex procedure whilst maintaining the illusion that I was experienced and calmly in control. This dexterity and deftness can only be attributed to the handling of the small parts in Airfix kits as a child (who would have thought that such a valuable skill would be imparted by the innocent construction of a 1:72 scale Messerschmitt).

There are occasions where I still get confounded by some bra clasps. Panic sets in if, after ten seconds, I have not unleashed the caged duo. Of course this panic only makes things worse until I end up resorting to frustrated tugging (which is neither romantic, or fruitful). As my experience of handling boobs developed I was expecting a pattern to emerge as to how women like them to be handled and treated. But nature has not done the male of the species any favours in this regard. I have been out with women who were virtually ‘boobless’ and yet even the mere notion of a touch to their boobs had them squealing with delight. Conversely I have dated amply bosomed women whom I am fairly sure would not have batted an eyelid if I had hung off of one nipple by my teeth (I know what your thinking and I agree. It does seem a waste)

As an actively dating middle-aged man it is a sad inevitability in this age that I will come into contact, directly or indirectly, with breast cancer. It has affected at least five women I personally know and two of whom I know intimately. I met Kristina through a mutual friend. It was an unusual first date insofar as it wasn’t a date. She was thinking about setting up a business and my friend suggested she talk to me for some advice. In conversation with Kristina it didn’t take long for me to unearth just how stressed she was at work and that this was a big challenge for her.

We had a second date and over dinner I realised  I liked her because she swore a lot, was loud and animated. In fact she was a female me. Unfortunately in the longer term I find women who are very similar to me actually start to irritate me, so I should have realised it was not going to be a sustainable relationship. But,  in Kristina, I could see that there was a happy and calm girl trying to get out. Perhaps there was hope.

We saw each other for a while but the sparkle never turned into a flame.  The separation came quickly and after the initial pain of letting go we did keep in touch. It was about a year later that Kristina got in touch with the devastating news of her diagnosis. She turned to me for support and I tried the best I could given that I was worried she might still be interested in rekindling our relationship when I wasn’t.

To this day I am ashamed to say that I had a secret sense of relief that we had separated when we did. But, as events unfolded, I watched from a distance, in complete awe, as she showed such remarkable strength and resilience in battling her illness. It has made her calmer and kinder to herself (it does seem to me that there is some level of  relationship between stress and cancer); a very different woman to the wired corporate executive I first met. Her battle is still far from over.

It is this story that requires me to implore that all women should learn the simple checks that enable early detection of potential problems. Even better why not involve your partner (or me) in the process (do bare in mind that a males goal is generally to use breasts as a stop off point on the way to pleasure central so make sure we complete the job first).

When I first met the pink haired Duracell bunny that is Pauline Giles at Bosom Buddies UK, I knew I wanted to help however I could. Pauline cares with such passion about this cause and it is a privilege to be able to support her. You can find out all about her brilliant charity at www.bosombuddiesuk.com.

If you buy the book directly from this site using this link I will donate £1 to Bosom Buddies UK to help Pauline continue this great work