Long time without a dick size thread, isn´t it? Here you can read the confessions of a 27cm guy :P BTW, He is looking for gf....
Daniel Martin, 22, Sittingbourne, Kent
He’s gorgeous, but when Daniel pulls off his trousers, women run a mile – and no, it’s not down to anything he’s lacking…
She was a real stunner with beautiful dark brown locks, which looked even lovelier fanned out all over my fresh bedsheets.
It was our fourth date and, after dinner at an Italian, Zoe had come back to my four-bed semi in Sittingbourne, Kent.
‘For a coffee,’ she’d said.
For sex she meant. I couldn’t get my jeans off quickly enough.
I pulled at my belt, as she undid her bra. My eyes lit up at the sight of her bouncy naked chest. Then as she lay on the bed, looking at me eagerly, I stepped out of my jeans and slid my blue boxers down my thighs.
Her eyes went wide. ‘Oh. My. God,’ she gasped.
She’d spotted my penis, all 11 inches of it, and sat up, flustered.
Then she started putting her bra back on. ‘I’m sorry, Danny, I can’t do this,’ she told me. She finished getting dressed and left. End of budding romance.
Only, that wasn’t the first time it had happened. I’m living proof that size matters – and it seems my size puts you women off.
You want a big boy, but not one as big as me. What I’ve got is both a blessing and a curse. Growing up, I didn’t realise the significance of it. I was a shy lad and always wanted to shield myself in the showers at school.
I was an only child, too, with no brothers to compare myself with. Mum was bringing me up alone so I didn’t even have a dad to talk to about these things.
What I knew about sex, I’d picked up in the playground.
When I was 13, one of my mates announced the average willy was between five and six inches. ‘What’s yours, Danny?’ he said. ‘Err, yeah, five,’ I bluffed. I wanted to fit in and didn’t actually know how big I was. So later, in the privacy of my room, I got the ruler out of my pencil case and measured myself. I felt relieved to find I wasn’t far off normal. I didn’t realise my mate had meant the average for an aroused penis. Mine was around that size, soft.
Show and tell
Not long after, I was hanging around with friends in the woods near my home when I found a porn mag under some leaves.
We had a quick peek and a big laugh and, by the law of finders keepers, I got to take it home.
It was dog-eared, but it was still a top find. I hid it in a puzzle box above my wardrobe and got it out whenever I was alone.
The pictures reassured me I was perfectly normal in the willy department. I didn’t know the men in those mags were extra-large.
Content with my lot, I started to gain more confidence. And at 14, I met Sarah on my paper round and asked her out.
She was two years older than me and when we talked about sex, she told me: ‘I’ve been with guys before.’ I was still a virgin, but didn’t want to let on.
One night when Mum was out, she came over to mine and, in my bedroom, we kissed for a while and then awkwardly got naked.
We started to have sex and Sarah was gasping and pulling faces. I thought it meant she was enjoying herself. I didn’t realise
I was hurting her.
There was never a repeat performance. I found out later Sarah had lied and it had been her first time, too. I was crushed she didn’t want to see me again.
I didn’t have sex again until two years later. And once I was back in the saddle, a few girls did comment on how big I was. But I thought they were only flirting.
It was on a lads’ holiday to Germany for the World Cup in 2006 when I finally twigged
I was different to most men.
By then, I had a girlfriend and though we’d been going out for a few months, she’d never really mentioned my penis size.
I’d had a few too many beers and went to spend a penny with my mate Paul. We went against a fence, and he finished first.
By the time I rejoined the lads, they were laughing and chanting: ‘Get it out,’ pointing at my groin.
I refused, but they all dropped their own pants and lined up with their crown jewels flapping in the wind.
Chuckling, I couldn’t help noticing how small they were. Or rather, how much bigger I was. Mine was at least twice the size.
Finally, I dropped my jeans and they cheered.
‘You could make a fortune with that,’ Paul said. ‘You want to get into porn, mate.’
I laughed my way through the rest of the holiday banter, half-proud, half-cringing.
When I got home, I thought about it more seriously.
I had a job as a labourer and it was hard, dirty work for bad pay. Porn seemed pretty glamorous by comparison. ‘Where’s the harm in looking into it?’ I thought. So I emailed some companies, whose details I found online. I didn’t tell anyone, not even my girlfriend.
A big discovery
The companies got back to me asking for pictures and my ‘big lad’ stats. So I took some snaps and got the ruler out again, measuring my erect state this time. I was shocked to find it was just over 11 inches.
Then just a few months later, I was called to audition at a porn shoot in London.
I felt like a bit of a plonker pleasuring myself in front of the camera. But when I was handed £350 in cash at the end of it, I was very pleased with myself.
So pleased that after a few more porn films, I jacked in my day job and really went for it.
That was two years ago. I now make up to £1,000 for every film I do. A lot of them are shown on an adult channel, so I feel kind of famous. You could say I’m cock-a-hoop – pardon the pun.
But though I may be rolling in cash, I can’t seem to find the other thing I really want – a loving relationship. Ever since my girlfriend and I split, not long after I got into the porn industry, I’ve had a series of one-night stands. The girls I meet through work, my fellow porn stars, are usually just after a bit of fun.
And other girls seem to fall into two categories – those who take one look at my bits and run, scared I might hurt them, and the ones who sleep with me for the experience, but never come back for seconds.
It really gets me down. Being well-endowed is supposed to attract females not repel them.
My mates are always saying to me: ‘You’re so lucky.’ Having sex with women for money is just about as good as they can imagine it gets.
But I find myself envying their normal relationships with women, it seems so easy for them. My supersize manhood excludes me from all that.
So I’ve got a top-of-the-range motorbike and more designer clothes than I can count, but no partner to share my life with.
My meat and two veg is my best friend and my worst enemy all at the same time.
I get paid a fortune for having sex on screen, but at the end of the day, I go home by myself. It’s pretty lonely. My snake won’t bite
I want to fall in love and settle down. I’d like to put my ‘gift’ to good use by making babies. But first, I have to think of a way to reassure women I’ll be gentle and won’t hurt them.
I’m not stupid, I know my job puts women off, too. But my massive penis is such a handicap, I’m just glad I’ve found a way to use it to make myself some money.
What women don’t realise is I’m saving most of the cash I earn for a nice family home.
I may have a great big penis, but I’ve got a huge heart, too. So ladies, there’s just one thing I want to ask: surely one of you is big enough to take me on?
















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