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A Man Who Has it All...?

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Most men have one thing in common: they'd really like their penises to be bigger. And the world’s taken notice: ‘male enhancement’, as it’s so wistfully called, is a billion-dollar industry, hawking everything from herbs to pills to diet fads to pumps, with varying results. So what’s it like to have been kissed by the gods—what is life REALLY like with a BFD (Big Fucking Dick)?

  The Long and the Short of It

We’re breaking for a little while as Orlando retreats to the kitchen to take a call—I half-listen, trying to discern if it’s a trick or a client. Neither, as it turns out—it’s his mom, which disproves the theory that men with big dicks are grown in laboratories.

He returns to the Florida, refreshed drink in hand. “Okay—you wanna know something? I’ll tell you something about having a big cock.” He positions himself in the doorway, his hips jutting out, one leg half-lifted. “A big cock and a pee-hard-on—they don’t work together so well,” he says, pushing his hips out further. “I mean, it's really hard to pee some mornings, you know. Believe it or not, sometimes I have to stand in the shower for a good arc to hit the toilet.”

So if you can barely pee, then how do guys take it?

“Well, yeah—that’s the thing. Sometimes guys are just not equipped for my size, and I get bored with the process of making it happen and it gets soft. It's not like you can just yell 'take it, bitch!' and plow on in, you know? But guys I care about; I take the time.”

Inevitably the talk turns to size queens, and Orlando’s tone becomes faintly rueful.

“They’re hard to weed out, dude. I mean, that is all they talk about. You pick up on that really fast. It's superficial. If they are into big dicks, they're usually blunt and to the point. Sometimes they’ll grab it, in a club, if they’ve been drinking or whatever. I don't really get offended,'s annoying.

“Can people size me up? Yes. They can see the outline. Without underwear, you can see the head poking right out.”

Do you often not wear underwear?

He breaks into a half-giggle and an overarticulated shrug. “What can I say? I hate the confinement.

“Yeah, I sometimes get hard in public—or when I’m doing up someone’s hair. My nipples are incredibly, sometimes annoyingly sensitive, and the two are wired together. A stiff breeze across my shirt and there it goes. Underwear on or off, same thing: see something (visual) a hot guy or client coming on to me, guys accidentally rubbing my dick through the salon cape, and I get hard.

“One time—a friend of mine—she said she was giving me a Claritin—turns out she was playing a practical joke on me, ‘cause it was really a Cialis. I spent the rest of the day working—all female clients—old ladies, one and all—with a giant hard dick poking out from my pants, and poking into the client’s salon cape.”

Were you wearing underwear?

“I wasn’t when the day started. By lunchtime, I had to throw a pair on just to keep from accidentally poking the old ladies in the back of their heads!”

  Aesthetics, the Dating Game, and the Meaning of Life

Tom Waits once said that there are two things a songwriter should always try to incorporate into his music: weather, and food. Because you never know when you’ll need a raincoat; and with all the angst of modern pop music, you’re bound to get hungry in the midst of all that wailing and whinging.

It can also be said that sex is much like a song—there’s a beginning, middle, and a crescendo before a slow-fade ending or collapse into sonorous sleep. As for the weather, it’s still raining—the Carolinas really only have two seasons to speak of —hot and wet, cold and wet – yet somehow we are always in the midst of a drought. And food? Well, we’re both smoking, aren’t we?

It’s been hypothesized that having a big penis is like any other genetic happenstance—two strands of genetic glop are smacked together, shook up just right, and a kind of perfection is born of accident rather than will: large breasts; ample buttocks; pretty face; naturally thick, luxurious hair…and ten-inch penises.

“I guess it’s sort of like being a pretty girl. I mean, it certainly has never hurt. I have had some very beautiful men want me because of it. I don't know that it makes me feel any prettier, but it does give me a kind of swagger, I guess. Is that the same thing?”

So, is it more of a blessing or a curse?

“What are you, on crack?” Orlando throws his head back and laughs. “It's both, actually. Kind of like winning the lottery—you can have a lot of fun with it, but it also makes you popular for maybe the wrong reasons.”

What about dating and sex—do you use the Internet regularly?

“Yeah, I use Manhunt a lot—I mean, a lot. I don’t do Craigslist though; that’s just too crazy for me.”

With that, Orlando flips open his laptop and pecks away at it for a moment. “C’mere,” he says, and shows me his Manhunt account. It’s filled out in staggering detail, with very little talk about sex—in fact, it’s very frank—in terms of emotion. Then he shows me its pièce de résistance—a full-sized photograph of his cock at full attention. It’s so stupendously large that it threatens to consume the ‘hun’ in the Manhunt logo at the top of the page.

“I get a lot of compliments on it. People want to meet me strictly because of it. It’s funny—I’ll talk to guys who aren’t looking for sex—on sites that aren’t even geared toward sex; they’re looking for a long-term relationship, right? But the conversation always comes back around to my cock.”

Orlando pecks away at the keypad again and brings up an account from another gay personals site. “Like, I have this one guy here; he’s always messaging me, every week—he’s offering me $200 if I let him suck me off.”

Have you or will you accept his offer?

“No. That’s prostitution. And it’s just gross.”

So, having a cock of that size, how do you go about choosing a partner, especially online?

“Well, it all depends on what I’m looking for. Sometimes the regular cock worshippers are fine. But I tend to avoid power bottoms.”

Trying not to be rude, I have the irrepressible urge to raise my hand again—excuse me; what, pray tell is a ‘power bottom’?

“Oh, a power bottom is someone who’s really super into it and very much used to it. They’re not much fun, because all they really want is something stuck up in them, you know? It’s kind of like fucking by rote. Like Craigslist—Craigslist is all power bottoms and married guys. And other assorted crazy shit.”

Where do the married men fall? Most of us assume that they’re the ones simultaneously posting in m4w and m4w, just to make sure that every base is covered.

“Married guys—blow and go all the way. They’re way more impersonal about it. They don’t undress. They don’t ask what I look like. They just love big beautiful dick, and that’s what they’re coming for. Like I said, they’re blow and gos. They do their business and they get out of there.”

So, good for a quickie, but not good for dating then?

“Right. And that’s kind of the problem with having a big dick—because everybody wants a piece of it, and it’s harder to make a real personal connection out of just being a big walking dick, you know?

“Like the power bottoms, you can sniff ’em out; they’re pretty easy to spot. Lots of telltale signs—like the fact that all they can talk about is my dick and how bad they want it. And then the big rush to jump straight to that stuff. I guess kind of like going on a first date, and all your date says is ‘Hey, let’s fuck’…before dinner and everything, I mean.
I stay away from them. I mean, who else has fucked them, you know?

“Younger guys online, all they want is to suck dick. They love it. As soon as they see my picture (the cock picture) online, they kind of fall in love with it.”

Are you looking for a relationship now?

“Yeah. Sort of. I don’t know, dude. It’s hard out there.”

Are you going out tonight?

“Of course!”


Contributor: mmike

Fun article. Orlando has confirmed what I have always thought; there are many advantages and only minor inconveniences, if one has a BFD.