“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Something about our sex life?”

We had just finished having sex, and that was a common time for us to ask each other about how we felt and how satisfied we were. We had been married for almost thirty years and we knew each other all too well. Our sex life had gotten stale in the middle of our marriage, but after the last of our children was grown and moved away, we had consciously worked on reinvigorating it. Part of that effort had included sharing fantasies and talking about possibilities.

“What about our sex life?” I asked. “I’m happy with it and you are wonderful.”

“Are you sure what we do is enough for you? You give me everything I want. Am I doing everything for you that you want? Are you sure you don’t want to tell me about anything else that excites you?”

“What’s brought all this up right now? Things have been great a long time now and you’ve done it all. I might like to see you fuck some other guy again some time, but I’m really happy with what we do.”

“Really?” she said as she ran her hand up my thigh and began to fondle my balls again. “Even enough of this?”

She knew I loved it most of all when she played with my balls. She would start gently, just sort of jiggling them in her hand and then gradually increasing the pressure, squeezing them as she rolled them around inside my scrotum. I got really aroused, though, when she would go down on them, putting first one and then the other in her mouth, rubbing her tongue all around them and sucking. The most exciting thing was when she would pull on my sack, tugging my balls away from my body. I loved it. The harder she pulled, the more pleasure I felt, even when she was pulling hard enough to hurt. One of our frequent games when she didn’t feel like intercourse was for me to get on my hands and knees. She would get behind me and pull my balls while I jacked off. “Harder,” I’d pant, “Pull them harder.” She would, but then she’d say the words that would push me over the edge: “But I don’t want to pull them off.” The cum would fly out of me when I’d hear that.

“Yes, enough of that,” I said, “You know I love it when you play with my balls, especially when you pull on them.”

“That’s what makes me ask. Do you more of that? Do you want more than that?”

“What do you mean?” I said, my hearts suddenly pounding.

“I found the file,” she said, “The file in the bottom back of the file cabinet.”

I didn’t say anything, but I was glad that it dark enough that she couldn’t easily see me. I’m sure I was glowing red. I could feel the flush rise from my neck and spread across my face.

“What?” was all I could stammer.

“Don’t play games with me. I found the file with all the stories in it,” she said, “The stories about men telling their wives that they want to be castrated; that they want their wives to cut their balls off, maybe even their dicks. You downloaded all those stories from some eunuch website, didn’t you? And printed them out?”

I didn’t know what to say. She had me. I was just dumbstruck, so I didn’t say anything.

“What do you do with it? Use it to jack off to when I’m not around?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “I do.”

“Well,” she said, “that’s pretty extreme. But why didn’t you tell me about this fantasy? You said we should tell each other everything. It is just a fantasy, isn’t it? Oh, my God! Is this really just a fantasy toy or is that something that you think you might really want to do sometime? That’s why I asked if you had anything you wanted to tell me. Tell me, now! I need to know if we’re just dealing with a fantasy here or if there’s something more serious going on.”

“It’s just a fantasy thing,” I lied. “You know I get real excited when you pull on my balls and I get a bigger thrill when you say something like you’re going to pull them off if you keep going. I should have told you about it, but I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed with me? After telling me that you wanted to watch me fuck another man, and then doing it, now you’re embarrassed about wanting your balls pulled or some other ball-playing fantasy? That’s silly.”

“I know, but it’s the truth.”

“Really? Are you sure it’s the truth? How far do you want to go with this fantasy?”

I couldn’t tell her that. I’d thought about having my cock and balls cut off ever since I was a child and the idea had always excited me. I don’t know how many times I had masturbated to the idea when I was a teenager or how many times again since I had discovered www.eunuch.org. The thought that it ever might happen was simultaneously frightening and exciting beyond all belief.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d like to pretend some time that you were going to do it -- really do it. Pretend that you really would do it if I asked you to, if I begged you to. That you made me beg you to do it. That would be fun for me, and would really excite me. I’d spray all over. Look at what just talking about it right now has done to me.”

I pulled her hand up off my balls and on to my prick that was rock-hard, as turgid and tight as I could ever remember it being.

“Oh, I like that,” she said, stroking my hard-on. “I love to see you spurt. Maybe we can play some harder ball games sometimes. That might be fun. But let’s take care of this right now.”

She slid down in the bed and began sucking me, and pulling on my balls.

“Would you really want me to do it?” she said. “I would, you know.” I couldn’t be sure if she meant that she’d really play the fantasy with me or if she’d really cut my balls off if I asked her. Just the fact that she said what she said was enough for right then, and I came in a minute.

Not much happened in the next few months except that she began to pay more and more attention to my balls every time we had sex and we increased the time I spent on my hands and knees with her pulling on my balls.

Then one hot night the next summer, things changed. We had come back from the beach and were hot and horny from a day on the sand and all the beautiful bodies around us. We started fooling around in the bathroom. I had just gotten out of the shower and sat down on the side of the tub to dry my feet. She was naked about to get in the shower when she came over and stood beside me with her salty breasts in my face. I started to lick her left breast and suck her nipple and she started to moan. A minute later, she was sitting on the tile floor with my dick in her mouth. She slid down a little lower and took my balls in her mouth while she went on stroking me.

“Oh, that’s good,” she said, “but I want more.”

She stretched out on the floor and told me to get down on my hands and knees over her so that my balls hung in her face. “Tea-bag me while you eat me,” she said. I started licking her pussy and she sucked my balls into her mouth, pulling hard on my scrotum.

“I love it,” she said, taking a breath. I kept eating her pussy and jacking myself like crazy. “But you know what? I could do what you want now. I could get both your balls in my mouth right now and just bite them off. Do you want me to do that? Do you want to feel me really eating your balls up? I could do it now. Tell me what you want.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, “Would you? Really?”

“Yesssss,” she hissed, “I would. Do you want it? Do you really want it?”

“I do! Go ahead. do it. Take ‘em!”

“Are you sure? You know this will be the end of it all. Say it again if you want it. Beg me to bite your balls off.”

“I know. I’m ready. Do it, please. Please bite my balls off. Please, I’m begging you. Do it now.”

For an instant, I thought she really was going to do it. She had my balls so far back in her mouth that she could close her lips and teach around the base of prick. And she bit down. The pain surged through my groin and I came off like a fountain all over her breasts and stomach.

She didn’t bite them off, but she could have and for a minute I wanted her to. For now, though, we just stayed with the fantasy.

We played more that way in the next year. The games varied, but the thrills were the same. One time in the kitchen, she had me seated on a chair with my balls hanging off the edge of the seat. She tugged on them as she sucked on me and I sighed and drifted with my eyes closed imagining all sorts of things. Then, all at once, when she had them tightly in her left hand pulled up and away from my body, she said, “Open your eyes! Look what I have.”

I opened my eyes to see our carving knife gleaming in her right hand.

“Should I do it?” she said. “Should I use it right now and take your balls off? You know you want me to. It never was a fantasy, was it? You really want it, don’t you? Tell me you do, and I’ll do it now. I swear I will.”

I believed her. I hesitated and she smiled. Then, in a swift short movement, she made a small cut in my sack just below the base of my prick.

“Well?”

The sting of the cut shocked me. I lost my nerve.

“No. No. Not this time. Not right now.”

“When then? I’m getting tired of this game,” she said, holding the knife against my scrotum. “It’s getting dull. Pretty soon the only thrill left will be when we do it for real.”

I knew she was right. I was excited, but not as excited as I had been in the months right after we started playing with this idea. And my lack of excitement reduced her pleasure in equal measure. The only real thrill this time had been in the second when I actually believed that she would do it if I said to.

We didn’t play the game again for a very long time, and then one winter night in the dark again she wanted to talk about it once more.

“What do you really want?” she said. “Do you really want to do it? You know, I’ve decided that I’ll do it if that’s your true desire. But what about what happens after?”

“I know. I don’t know. I don’t know how it will be after. I have to tell you, though, it isn’t just a fantasy any more. I do want you to cut my balls off, maybe my dick too, but my balls for sure. I know it’ll be the greatest sexual thrill I’ve ever had, but I’m afraid it will be my last one. But, you know what? That might be O.K. I’m getting older, I don’t want it all as much as I used to, I think about cancer sometimes and getting rid of my balls might make it better all around. But what about you?”

“I’ve thought about that. I can’t have any more children so that’s not a factor. You know that I don’t have the desire I used to have either and I don’t think I ever will again. I’m happy to get off with your fingers and your mouth when I feel like I need sex. I don’t absolutely need your dick any more. I think I could be happy with just a dildo if I needed something in there. But maybe not. And I would miss playing with your balls,” she smiled.

“What if I told you that you could get laid if you wanted, if you felt like you just had to have a real cock and balls sometime? You know I can handle that. I’ve watched you fuck somebody else three times now and it’s been exciting every time, and we’ve been fine about it afterward. I could be happy with that.”

“Would you do that, really?”

“Yes.”

“And giving you this is the best thing I could ever do for you?”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “I’ve never told you, but I’ve imagined this for as long as I can remember. Remember the night you found the file with all the stories in it? And I told you it was all just fantasy when you asked? Well, it wasn’t. I lied. I’ve dreamed about it all my life and now I’m beyond myself thinking that I might actually get what I’ve wanted for so long.”

We haven’t talked about it any more since that night four months ago, but we both are thinking about it and know that the other is thinking about it too. I think we both know now that it will happen some day. The real question is when. I'm not sure what she thinks, but I don't think it will be long. It’s summer again now and the nights are getting hot.