Sex Appeal on Shine

What's Sexier: Cleavage or Covered Up

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What do you think guys find sexier: a woman in a low-cut top or a turtleneck?

How do you feel when guys check out your boobs?

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Last night at an event honoring Michael Douglas, his father Kirk was caught gazing upon Catherine Zeta-Jones' breasts. She has a lovely décolletage and bountiful cleavage, but an older man checking out his…

3 Little White Lies Men Should Always Tell

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The other night, I was hanging out with a new friend (who shall, for the time being, remain nameless). I'd stopped by his place because I happened to be in his neighborhood, and we hung out for a while, talking about Faulkner. Or rather he talked about Faulkner, and I listened in rapt amazement to his brilliance. But he also drank like Faulkner; I think he was a little drunk when I arrived, and he proceeded to have maybe two or three more whiskeys in my presence. So, not surprisingly, the conversation eventually became a little flirty. And — when I stood up to get myself a glass of water — my new friend said, "Wait a second ... turn around. You know what? I'm really good at this: I bet I could guess your weight within five pounds. Want to wager on it?" I declined, saying, "If you guess wrong, and too high, my self-esteem could be, like, permanently ruined." He replied, "Oh, come on. There's nothing wrong with you. You have a perfectly fantastic athletic body." Athletic!?!? He consciously chose NOT to say thin. Instead, he said athletic. Which means muscular. Which means thick. Which is as good as saying fat! Which brings me to my first point ...

Why We Love to See Guys Sweat

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No, we're not referring to slobs in pitted-out tee shirts who have funky B.O. We're talking about guys who play hard, work hard, and don't back down when things heat up. Why do we like sweat so much? Let us count the ways.... ● If a guy is sweating, he’s probably about to take off…

Four Things I Learned About Women From Romance Novels

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Confession: I used to read my mom's romance novels. It was back in middle school, and I wasn't too discriminating when it came to titillation--a Victoria's Secret catalog or even a particularly steamy issue of TV Guide (the issue featuring Teri Hatcher in her "Lois and Clark" heyday was a favorite) were more than enough to send my hormones into a frenzy. Most of the books on Mom's bookshelf were classics of the Jane Austen variety, but she had one or two trashy romances I would break out late night. So I was disturbingly excited when a publicist recently sent me a copy of Susan Mallery's new romance novel Sunset Bay. Would all of the heaving and throbbing still do the trick, or have I actually done some growing up over the last fifteen years?