Hallelujah

I'm convinced, beyond all reasonable doubt, that a certain colleague of mine is trying to turn me gay.

For example, she likes to make snide comments about my overt preference for a nice, shapely ass over big, doughy titties. I mean, come on; does my fascination with nice asses equal some latent homo-erotic tendency?

Hardly.

Most guys will go for a girl with a nice ass over one with mammaries that can double as flotation aids. Ask us. There's something primal about a fine piece; maybe it's reproductive instinct, maybe it's built into our pathetic, sex-addled brains:

"Wow, look at that ass!" = "Hmmm. Big hips. Good for babies. Ugga ugga."

Get it? How about that? Does that totally blow your theory out of the water, Angie?

Why, of course it does! Who's the man? Come on, w-h-o-i-s-t-h-e-m-a-n-?

But hey, small breasts are okay so as long as the person they're attached to comes with intelligence, a great personality and, oh, now that you mention it, a pleasant posterior. And she's gotta be able to bear with all of my stupid, immature jokes.

That's it. That's all I'm asking for, ladies.

So, sorry Angie.

The only cock I like looking at is my own; balls-deep in mutually-consenting adult females (or more accurately, female).

So yeah, for the record, I'm straight.