Ten men, a beach house, and a question to answer: Does size really matter?

When my boss asks me to write an article on the age-old question of the importance of D-size, I stifle an eye-roll. This isn’t what I imagined I’d be doing after years of journalism classes.

But when she presents me with the keys to an exclusive beach house, and the personal details of the ten men she’s lined up for me to interview, my eyes practically bug out of my head.

It isn’t only because they’re hotter than the surface of the sun, or tall and broad enough to form a Great-Wall-of-Man. It isn’t because between them, they have more ink than a bookstore. It isn’t even because each of them is packing ten inches or more, although that does raise a perfectly arched eyebrow.

It’s the way my boss winks when she says the word interview, as though her expectation of the depth of my investigation is way beyond standard reporting.

I'm a flustered mess when they all arrive at the beach house.

Carson and Clay are tattoo artists who can’t stop staring at my virgin skin.

Russell and Tom are ex-military men looking for adventure on home soil.

Jimmy and Jonas are personal trainers with a very personal touch.

Oliver and Stefan are senior executives at two prestigious advertising agencies, making them as rich as they are sexy.

And Theron and Gabe build houses for a living with their bare hands!

They’re a veritable buffet of delicious manly goodness.

They tantalize me with what it would be like to experience ten men and ten times ten inches until I'm achy and needy and more desperate to know the answer to the size question than I've ever been about anything, ever!

And when they find out how innocent I am, they decide I need to be taught many, many mind-blowing lessons about how to handle so much man.

Ten men, seven days, and one intriguing question. Will I find the answer?