Okay, likely this will contain some s******* explicit content. Just a heads up. I’m hurting all the time and have no one to share these particular problems with. I just want to organize my thoughts and get stuff off my chest.

I’m 36 now and have had just two girlfriends in my adult life. They’re also the only two people I’ve slept with. Girlfriend 1 was the love of my life – so I thought at the time. She was my first love, and my feelings for her were so deep and powerful I could barely handle it. I miss feeling that intensely for someone – it has not happened again- and I’m not sure it ever will. I think for a lot of people, their first love is the strongest. It has less to do with the person you’re in love with and more to do with the simple fact that it’s your first time. AIl I’m trying to get at here is that we were not perfect for each other but I was so madly in love that I ignored any problems that came up.

After four years of bliss with her (bliss for me, at least), I found out she was cheating on me. The single most devastating thing that has ever happened to me. It happened more that ten year ago but I’m still working through the pain and shock.

I know that lots and lots of people get cheated on all the time. What happened to me was not a unique experience. It actually really upsets me how commonplace it is. It scares me and prevents me from wanting to fall in love and trust again. There’s plenty of people out there dealing with the same pain as me and handling it much better. I sometimes feel a little weak and pathetic for having such a hard time with it. In my case I think it was pretty bad though because I was so completely blindsided. Right up until the end I truly believed that Girlfriend 1 was as happy and content as I was, and that she could never dream of doing anything to hurt me or betray my trust – just as I could never dream of hurting or betraying her.

S** obviously means different things to different people, and everybody values it differently. For me I always equated it with deep, true love (whatever the hell that means) and never wanted to give it or receive it from just anybody. I guess I wanted the fairy-tale life where I saved myself for that special person, and we remained true to each other for the rest of our lives. Girlfriend 1 valued it differently, of course. She was already very s******* experienced when we fell love and would have no problem having s** with someone she liked just for the fun of it. I knew this about her from the start, and though it bothered me a little at the time, I never judged her too harshly for it. Well, that’s not entirely true. I gave her a very hard time when she suggested we bring another couple into our bedroom. The suggestion upset me because I never wanted to share her and was confused about why she would want to share me. The problem was simply that we placed different values on s**. It’s worth noting that we never properly dealt with or communicated about this problem, but just swept it under the rug. I then went back to my blissful state after burying and forgetting the problem.

So eventually I found out she was cheating on me. I didn’t catch her in the act or anything, thankfully, because that would have resulted in some serious self harm. Rather, her behaviour just changed over a short time. I became very suspicious, took a glance at her messenger history (which I’m still ashamed about), read a few lines that I couldn’t explain any other way, and then flat-out asked her. She cried and admitted what she was doing. Kept it a secret to avoid hurting me. Yadda-yadda. I told her later that if she had just come out and told me that she wanted to end the relationship, it would have saved me a world of torment. That it would be very hard news to hear, but nowhere near as bad as being betrayed by the one person in the world I trusted most. “Really?” she said. The look on her face was surprise. I still don’t understand that.

I guess its possible she didn’t want to lose me but just wanted something more on the side. I don’t know. In the confusion I don’t think I even asked her that. But after the initial shock wore off we went for a walk to talk. I asked her how she could throw away what we had, what we had built together, for some meaningless s**. She responded, “No, no! It’s not like that. I love him”, thinking that answer would soothe my pain. That was the moment. The worst single moment I have endured so far, and I’ve endured some doozies. I know exactly where I was standing on the sidewalk when she told me that. I stomach still churns whenever I happen to drive by it.

When she first told me she cheated on me I moved out and went back home. But I hadn’t given up on the two of us. I contemplated very hard on the mistakes I had made, and went to the library and devoured some books on how to regain trust and repair a relationship after someone cheats. I assumed she had cheated simply for the s** and believed that she could eventually be forgiven. I even believed that my strict views on s** could change. They eventually did change, but maybe not in a way that I like or find healthy.

Here is the part I will have trouble confessing to anyone in real life. It’s very embarrassing and private. But I still need to get it off my chest. First off, let me just get this out of the way: I’m very unhappy with the size of my p****. Its about 5.5″ and not very thick. I guess that’s average, or almost average. I dunno. I’m sure the obscene amount of p*** I watch skewes my perceptions. Guys tend not to get into p*** unless they’re well endowed. Anyway, the problem isn’t the size, exactly, but the fact that I believe its not enough to satisfy a potential partner. This belief is probably the root of all my shyness and timidity around women.

Okay, here’s another even more embarrassing thing to admit: Around the time of the end of this relationship – when I started to have slight suspicions – I started watching a lot of ‘interracial’ p***. Basically I liked watching large, muscled black guys with huge dicks ravaging petite white women. I know, based on its availability, that this must be a fairly common kink for guys. So, whatever. But what strikes me as interesting is the timing of my new interest. Up until that point my main p*** interests were dominant women, latex, and b****** (either man or woman bound).

I still like interracial p*** and now I have a better understanding why. When I watch it, I imagine the woman as being my girlfriend, and the guy as being not me. He can’t be me. He’s handsome, muscly, got a huge p**** capable of dispensing copious amounts of pleasure, and his skin colour is dark brown. So I’m watching all this p***, and I can’t possibly imagine myself as either of the participants. I’m watching my girlfriend go out and get her pleasure from someone else because I am inadequate. Its as though I’m training myself to be comfortable, accepting, and even aroused by her infidelity. It’s a way to get back the woman I love. I’m talking about a hypothetical woman here. I don’t want Girlfriend 1 back at all except during my darkest hours.

As I got older my p*** tastes evolved. Simple interracial p*** evolved into ‘cuckold’ p***. If you don’t know what that is, it’s p*** where the girl is deliberately cheating on her husband while he is made to watch, or he’s humiliated and made to participate in some degrading way, or he’s made to serve as slave to his wife and her lover… there are many variations on the theme and I’m basically into all of them. In theory. In real life not so much. I mean, I was in no way aroused s******* when I found out Girlfriend 1 was f****** some other dude. I would have the same horrible reaction if it happened today. But in my p****-land fantasies this brutal pain is twisted into and mixed with pleasure. So cuckold p*** is very similar to the interracial p*** I was watching, only I’m able to imagine myself as, and identify with, one of the participants.

Here’s a typical cuckold scene, as depicted in pictures or film, that I might enjoy. The wimpy white husband, naked, is standing in the corner of a room. His p**** locked in a chastity device – a piece of plastic or metal that encases his p****, and prevents erection or stimulation. The white wife has the key. She is allowed all the pleasure she want’s – but he remains chaste and faithful. She’s naked herself, on the couch, sucking some black guy’s huge p****. She ignores her husband, and gets her pleasure from her lover. Until the end when she calls hubby over and makes his clean her v***** with his mouth, or s*** her lover’s p****, or provide some other humiliating service. The whole thing makes me hot. In real life in not gay/bisexual at all. And I don’t want to go anywhere near some other guy’s junk. But in this fantasy its fun to imagine being forced to do it. Because as gross and humiliating as it is, its just nice to be included somehow in my imaginary wife’s s** life.

Ugh. Embarrassing stuff. I’m reading this e***** story right now that is really f****** with my head. It basically deals with all the type of stuff I just described, only in this story, the husband and wife are madly in love with each other. He’s got a small p**** and she is an insatiable s*** (obviously written by a man) who needs constant s** from many different well-endowed men. She always comes home to her husband but feels tremendous guilt from her actions. Yet she can’t stop – you know, ’cause she’s such a huge s***. When he eventually finds out it nearly destroys their marriage, but they pull it together and he eventually accepts his place as her wimpy cuckold husband-slave who attends to all her, and her lover’s, needs. Sort of a typical story except for the wife’s immense love for her husband. She feels horrible about her constant cheating and is so tender, caring and reassuring with him – when she’s not humiliating him in front of her lover, that is. The love and care the wife shows in the story is really touching. It’s an element that is lacking in most cuckold stories. Usually, the wife is more of a heartless b**** type, or even a d********* of sorts. But this wife is loving, and even tries to swear off other men. She hates how it hurts her husband. She simply can’t stop (again, too impossibly slutty).

Parts of this particular story are really soothing to me. The wife will come home from a night of passion with her lover and work hard to reassure her husband that it was just s** and he was the only one she ever loved. Its soothing to me, obviously, because I’m imagining things with Girlfriend 1 taking a similar path. But the story isn’t all soothing. It can be damn painful to read. The wife and husband are written well enough that you care about them, and the constant pain of humiliation, inadequacy, and jealousy that the husband must endure to keep her is very sharp. This blend of soothing pleasure and sharp pain is intoxicating to me.

Its probably not uncommon for peoples’ kinks to get wilder when they mature and I am no different. I consider myself to be very open-minded about this sort of thing and would never judge anyone by their preferences. And I’m cool with anyone who might practice a cuckold lifestyle – so long as nobody is getting hurt (in a way they don’t want to be hurt). But I can feel my perverted brain getting sucked into this kind of life even though I know I won’t be able to handle the pain. Like I’m compulsively walking towards a cliff.

I’m nowhere near the point of embracing this ridiculous fantasy lifestyle, but I can feel it permeating my thoughts. For example, on okCupid, a dating site, I find myself gravitating to these very s******* open-mined, experienced women that are almost certainly wrong for me. I can’t help myself from being attracted to them. And the women on the site who share the same interests and seem perfect for me get passed over if they don’t also seem a little slutty.

So I meet a girl I like and I’m terrified. If all goes well and she likes me too then eventually she has to see my p****. The thought of disappointing someone this way is enough to make me never leave the house. And let’s say we get over that hurdle and she doesn’t care about big dicks or she’s willing to tolerate mine, what then? I either sense her possible promiscuous nature and become paranoid, jealous and clingy, or I sense that she is a very loyal, monogamous person like me and get I bored. I know I’m being a little crazy and exaggerative here, but these are legitimate concerns.

Jumping all the way back to Girlfriend two. We were together for a few years. We had god times and bad, and overall it was nice. For me there was little passion. I did love her, but did not, or could not, let that love grow too strong. I was distant. I believe this is why she broke up with me and who can blame her. Though I cared for her I never trusted her with important thoughts such as these. I couldn’t trust her whole-heartedly. I don’t know if that was my fault or hers. But regardless, I’m still not sure if I am ready to fully trust and love someone. I couldn’t live though another betrayal like the first one. Which makes my slutty-wife fantasies even more ridiculous.

I really want to open up to someone, tell them all of my embarrassing dark secrets, and then be accepted for who I am. More than any of the problems I have just described, this is what is on my mind the most. I want to be open with a loving girlfriend, but that doesn’t seem likely in the near future. I’m considering giving this to a close friend. But I don’t know. I don’t really feel the need to have my friends know any of my s***** fantasies. And I don’t particularly want to know any of theirs either. But I know I would be accepting and non-judgemental if I ever found out about any… So for now I’ll just post this anonymously into the aether. Thanks to anyone who bothered to read this, and I don’t blame you if you skipped it.