He said my titts are distracting. I wonder why.

You can't help but stare at those big tits, full and heavy, practically demanding your attention the moment your eyes land on them.

You feel the pull immediately — something primal that bypasses every rational thought you had walking into the room. You notice the way the fabric strains, the way gravity works against any attempt at subtlety.

You understand exactly why concentration becomes impossible, why conversation loses its thread entirely. You'd lose focus too, sitting across from something this distracting, this unapologetically present. You wouldn't even pretend to be sorry about it.