I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a bit of an exhibitionist; whenever the circumstances allow you'll find me sprawling bollock naked on a beach in the sun, I’m very much at ease. I’m fortunate that I’ve never really had what you might call body issues. I’m no Adonis, by any means; I’m a 47 year old, slightly balding, more than slightly greying, former rugby player who enjoyed the social side of his sport (rugby was strictly amateur in my playing days) probably even more than the sporting side, and one who, when forced into retirement through injury, promptly exchanged his 6-pack for a keg. That’s not to say there aren’t bits of me I wouldn’t change. I never did make it to 6′ (I’m, 5’9½ – and ask any guy, that ½” makes all the difference, and not just when it comes to height), I could probably do with shedding a few pounds (I’m about 196lbs – the UK version). And, since I’m a bloke, and I’m being honest, I wouldn’t complain if my cock was a little bit longer, but I digress.