When I was younger, I wondered about it because I wasn't the most macho of the guys. I'd always hang out with the girls when the guys were off watching sports, etc. I didn't think that I was gay, but I didn't have any proof one way or the other, so I was open to finding out. One night one of my best male friends and I ended up making out with this girl at the same time. (What? We were in college, and she was the one who egged it on. Gimme a break.) Anyway, things started going there, and I figured if any sort of sexual contact with a guy were ever going to happen that'd likely be it. I was open to finding out one way or the other, in a clinical intellectual sense, even though I really didn't have any emotional inclination. (And keep in mind that I was a VERY late bloomer sexually, so everything at that time was exploratory.) Somewhere in there, his hand slid across my back... my brain said, "Okay, let's see if we are into this or not" but every cell in my body yelled "OH HELL NO!" It was really odd because I wasn't expecting that reaction at all. I figured it would be a mechanical sort of act and afterward I would analyze it and decide if I liked it or not like I had done with the women I'd been exploring things with. Nope. I was straight. No doubt about it. Hadn't really looked back since.