Gary loved balls. Not in a sexual way either. He always considered himself straight, and in a completely objective assessment he was. He had a healthy, average active sex-life with a string of willing women who looked back on their night with Gary with very few complaints. There was nothing about men or masculinity that turned him on, and he found penises to be repellent. But aesthetically, he couldn’t deny that he loved ballsacs. He loved their look, their smell, the gentle way they laid in folds across a thigh. And goddamnit why shouldn’t he?