The change has not been without costs and not without pain. I used to have an active sex life, both with my wife, and with other women. I loved sex- the incredible physical aspects, the excitement of the hunt and the score, the conquest, the intimacy even (although I was reluctant to admit it then). The sex is gone. I miss it, but I sometimes forget why it was so all important to me. But the other changes were costly also. Where I was once athletic and physically active, now I am more calm and relaxed. I was prominent in my corporation and my profession, but now I’m not so aggressive and really enjoy spending time at home. I am now just a shadow of my former self, less significant physically, professionally and emotionally to my wife.

My journey to insignificance didn’t happen all at once. It was a process and a gradual change. But the end result was permanent. A change that could not be undone. I am neutered. Castrated. A eunuch. I agreed to allow my loving wife to have me castrated because I realized that it was the best thing for me and for her, for us.

The loss of those 2 small lumps, my balls, was the fulcrum about which my life turned. Many things lead up to it. Many things happened as a result of it. And are still happening. When it first was done and I realized the importance of it, the permanence, and started to notice the changes, I was frantic. Angry. I threatened her, I felt betrayed, I withdrew. But gradually those feelings have faded. My need for sex is gone of course. My wife’s need did not disappear when I was pruned. But I am no longer so prone to jealousy like I was, so where I cannot satisfy her, other’s can.

Ahh my wife. I do love her so. Sara and I have been together since high school. My prom date. The high school couple everyone envied, that stayed together after hi school and made it to marriage. Married at 19, a great marriage too. Emotionally, socially, physically fulfilling. We were partners and only into each other for a long time. At times she was a bit demure. Not a prude, bit passive. She enjoyed sex, but rarely initiated it.

I strayed. She didn’t know at first. It was just a one night stand on a business trip with a colleague (Eva, like eve. So appropriate for my first). It was fantastic! We had been married 4 years, but I wanted more. I tried to satisfy my needs at home. Sara seemed to enjoy the new enthusiasm I had for sex. Little did she know I was occasionally fantasizing of others when I was making love to her. And again she was the only one for a long time.

But I had discovered in that first infidelity that I was special. Physically. I was bigger than most other guys. I was surprised at first. How’s a guy to know that his erect cock is bigger than everyone else’s? I’m straight, I haven’t seen other guys cocks erect, except in movies. But that first time with another woman, and she said it was the biggest cock she had ever had. I didn’t believe her, I thought she was just flattering me. I always seemed to be able to satisfy Sara, and she never commented about my size. I thought I was just average. Then some time later, I got curious. So I did what any guy would do- I measured. Just at 8 inches long, 3 ½ inches around. Yes, I know it’s not like some porn star. But it is bigger than most guys. Yes I know, “size doesn’t matter”. It’s true, other thing are more important than size. But size is important too. Technique, enthusiasm, duration are all important. But throw in a size advantage and most girls go wild. They may say size doesn’t matter, but all women would pick a big cock now and then if they could. All women want to try a big cock, they are curious. Word gets around. That’s what got me into trouble.

So I knew I had a big cock. After a while I thought about sharing it with more than one woman. And I did. I saw opportunities and took them. Just one time. Then one chance turned into several more, several women. Several times. Once two women at once! And every time, they would comment about my cock. It was big. They like to look at it erect. They loved to touch it. To kiss it. To hold it in their hands, in their mouth. To hold my balls and heft them and marvel at my size. They seemed to feel that they were responsible for the size. Women can be so self absorbed at times- I am sure that most of the girls thought that my cock got big because they were so hot looking. It was big for them, because of them. That I got so big and horny only because of their hot body. It was an ego boost for them. They were proud, happy that they could cause such a big hard on.

But more than anything else- more than looking at it, holding it, touching it, sucking it- they loved fucking it. I won’t get to carried away here- I wasn’t that big, and women are complex animals. But all that aside, the average woman is totally turned on and driven wild by a big cock. Between her legs. In her pussy. Legs spread wide, head thrown back, panting or screaming, that puts her over the edge. On top, underneath, side by side, from behind, standing up, a big cock is what women want. The first time a woman feels a big cock open her up and touch places that haven’t been touched before, she’s a changed woman, and can never be changed back. They can be satisfied in other ways, I know. But when push come to shove, the shiest woman can become hypnotically interested as soon as she saw my cock partly erect. I remember hitting on a woman I met at a bar on a trip. She was much too good looking to waste time on me. We danced, she maintained her disinterest. Then came a slow song. I dragged her out on the dance floor for “3 times a woman”. Syrupy song that I wouldn’t dance to normally. I hold her close; she tries to keep her distance. I get the beginnings of an erection. She seems confused, then a bit curious. Changes from dancing at a distance to moving a bit closer. I hear an “Oh” and a brief chuckle. Then she’s drawing her chest t into me, moving her hips with mine. Suddenly I have become more interesting to her. Less than 30 minutes later we’re in my room and she’s putty. Top comes off, skirt hits the floor, nice lace bra and thong I admire for a while, getting fully erect. She asks if I’m going to take my clothes off. Before I know she’s telling me she wants to see it, says “please, you know what I mean, I want to see it”. So I do. The rest is history. Just because she realized I was endowed. And it only got better from there.

I loved it. I realized I was a stud. It was a power thing. I regret that I was not always forthcoming with my gifts. Some women had to work for it. Beg. One big girl I remember in particular. Not too big, but kind of fluffy. I was in a phase where I got interested in big boobs only. After all I could get small ones at home . She was not all that attractive, but I wanted to see her breasts. We got to the room. I’m admiring her tits; my cock fascinates her. She’s so hot, just begging to be fucked. Instead, I ask her for a blow job. Tell her it’s just to get me hard, then she can have it. I came like crazy in her mouth and allover her chest. She’s nearly crying with disappointment, and apologizing for making me come. “But you can come again can’t you?” She really wanted me in her pussy. Big girls are so appreciative. And I appreciated her. So to help me get hard a second time, I asked her to “perform” for me. You know, pose. Be a sex starlet, a pornstar for a night. She was a little embarrassed at first, posing, touching herself. But she got into it. And I got into it. My second orgasm was where she wanted it and I lasted so much longer. She left happy, and a bit more comfortable with her own sexuality. She learned how to come out of her she a bit.

So I had plenty of opportunities. I thought it was just sport sex, fun times no strings attached sex. Until I got hooked up with a neighbor who got jealous and possessive. Jeanine was just a convenient lay for me. But I went back once too often and she confused the orgasm with love. Like Monica Lewinsky and Bill Clinton, Jeanine thought I would leave Sara for her. When I wouldn’t, she retaliated. She confronted Sara and claimed I was leaving her. Then I realized that my no strings attached sex had string attached. I was embarrassed and angry but more than anything else, I was sorry. I had hurt two people, one of whom I loved very much.

And that was the end of my infidelity. And the beginning of the end of a lot of things for me.

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