Postby NYCGay » Tue Nov 04, 2025 3:29 pm
Update 4 1/2 years in. Part 1.
This update about my implant and my sex life will be in two parts.
• Part 1 will be a summary of how things have been working for me these last few years.
• Part 2 will be about the situation right now.
On the whole, I’ve been very happy with my implant and the sex life it has enabled me to have. I assume that how one feels about one’s implant depends on what one is comparing it with. In a perfect world, I would have preferred to have a cock that got and stayed rock hard on its own, just from me getting aroused – but I’ve never had that, not even when I was young. (Or perhaps I did when I was fifteen, but I didn’t start having sex until I was twenty-three, and by then, I could not maintain a good erection. I was on injections by the time I was twenty-five.) I don’t love having a firm rubber bulb in my ballsack, causing guys who fondle my ball to wonder what it is I’ve got in there, but I’m okay with it. The upside of having the implant has been so much greater than the downsides for me.
The implant has enabled me to both have more satisfying sex with my husband, and also to have an extensive and rewarding extramarital sex life. Hooking up can be a lot of fun, and it feels great knowing that I can always deliver, especially when someone makes clear that he likes to bottom and wants a good pounding.
For the last three years, I’ve enjoyed a somewhat regular affair with a handsome and charming guy in his early thirties. The first time I met him, at a Christmas party, he asked, by way of idle conversation, if both me and my husband were tops, thereby making it pretty clear what he was looking for. Back in the days when I was on the injections, this would have filled me with a mix of pride and worry: pride that he wanted me to fuck him, and worry that I wasn’t up to the task; the injections only gave me a semi-erection, which usually started flagging way too fast. Would I get hard enough for long enough to give him what he wanted? With the implant, I knew I would.
I’m no more immune to male vanity than most men, and I love it when this guy texts me that he needs me to fuck him right now, and that my cock is “unmatched” (an exaggeration, of course, but, hey, I lick it up) and that he loves feeling it press against him and thinking he won’t be able to take it all, until I ram it all in and start pounding. And I love feeling his ass squeeze my shaft while I watch the rapture on his face.
I don’t see him more than once a month, or every other month, but when we do see each other, we always spend the whole night together, usually starting with dinner and drinks, and ending it with coffee the next morning before he heads out. It’s an affair that goes beyond just sex. We’ve been to the opera together a few times, and he spent a weekend with me once when my husband was out of town (with my husband’s approval). But even though our interaction goes beyond just sex, it wouldn’t have happened without the sex, and even if it had, it wouldn’t have been the same. He treats me as if he thinks I’m the hottest daddy ever, and I enjoy that. I wouldn’t have been able to play that part without this reliably hard cock, for which he expresses such admiration and craving.
He, by the way, has a sizable cock of his own, which typically stay perfectly hard while I fuck him, but he has never shown the least inclination to switch roles.
But I fantasize about it sometimes. Now that I get so much positive attention for my dick, and I’m not plagued by worry that it will disappoint, it can actually also be a thrill to have it ignored, in favor of other parts of my body. On vacation in Cairo, my husband and I hooked up with a local guy whom we found on one of the apps. Hooking up in Egypt can be dangerous when you’re gay; apparently, the police sometimes use the apps to trap people. So we made a date with him, not for sex – absolutely not! – but just for him to show us a museum. Only after spending a few hours together did we head to our hotel for drinks in the bar, and then finally up to our room for sex. He was in his late twenties, slenderly built, but with an unproportionally large dick that got and stayed perfectly hard. But I might as well not have had any penis at all, given his lack of attention to it; I literally had to put it in his hand for him to give it a couple of desultory strokes. He was affectionate and eager to kiss, but what he was after was clearly not dick; he wanted ass! For me, that was a great turn-on. (You straight guys who’ve never been fucked don’t know what you’re missing out on: not primarily the physical feeling itself, which, in all honesty, takes some getting used to, but the thrill in giving up control and submitting to another man’s masculine power.)
Some physical attributes of my implanted dick:
• Length: about 7”; the same as before I got the implant. My girth before the implant was 6.7”, with part of that coming from the shaft bulging out on one side. With the implant, that bulge largely went away, and my girth was only 5.7”. With time, this has increased to 6”.
• Hardness: hard enough to easily penetrate an ass, even a tight one, and even though I would not describe it as hard as steel, or hard enough to hammer a nail, it’s still hard enough for me. When getting fucked myself, I prefer a cock that has some flexibility to it, like a stiff rubber baton, rather than a steel rod.
• Angle: three o’clock. It’s beautiful to behold hard cocks that point to the sky. I would love to have one of those myself, but I’m reasonably happy with mine pointing straight out.
Another thing that the implant has enabled me to indulge is my exhibitionism. Think what you will of me, but I love showing off. There is a nudist party at a gay bar in New York once a month. It’s labeled as a social, not sexual, event, but sometime after midnight, that distinction just melts down. You get introduced to someone new, and instead of shaking hands, you might heft his cock, fondle it and feel its weight, and he might do the same to you. Towards the end of the night, anything goes, but it’s still different from a pure sex party. You chat with guys, but you fondle them too, or pay someone the compliment of kneeling before him and sucking his cock, or accept the same compliment from him. It feels naughty and fun. Even though I’m clearly at the upper end of the age range, I find myself quite popular. In the throng, it’s easy enough to put a hand on my ballsack, as if giving it a scratch, but really squeezing the pump a few times, giving myself a quarter erection, a half erection, or a three-quarters erection, depending on what feels appropriate at the moment. After making out with someone, I might push my way to the bar to get a drink without deflating first. I guess that’s how I get popular.
I occasionally went to similar events back when I was on the injections, but it was not the same. There was the issue of having to occupy a bathroom long enough to inject and press down on the injection site for a few minutes, or I might end up with a huge, unsightly bruise. And even injected, I never got more than semi-hard, and since the effect only lasted for forty-five minutes or so, I had to decide when during the night I wanted my forty-five minutes of sexual play. With the implant, I can inflate (partway or wholly) and deflate (partway or wholly) several times as my interactions with the other bar guests glide pleasantly back and forth between social and sexual.
I’ve also been three times to the small village of Zipolite in southern Mexico, which supposedly has Mexico’s only legally nude beach. During the daytime, most people are actually not nude, though some are. Towards sunset, the gays congregate by the bar at one end of the beach, and there is significantly more nudity. And when the sun has set and darkness falls, there is a lot of action at the very furthest part of the beach. It’s the same fun, friendly and naughty atmosphere as at the New York bar I described above, but even better, because it’s outdoors, under the open sky, in a beautiful setting. And at such an event, it is fun to have a hard, good-sized dick to flaunt.
Any worries for the future? Well, I assume that the party won’t last forever. My implant lets me feel popular now, even in crowds where I’m older than almost everybody else. But eventually, I expect that I will just be too old for most other guys’ taste, hard cock or not. At sixty, I don’t even know if I can honestly call myself a daddy any longer; grand-daddy is more like it, and I don’t think there is any gay sexual category after grand-daddy; I’m on the last one.
This fear that it may soon be over makes me think about the importance I’ve assigned to my sex-life, and specifically to the extra-marital part of it. A significant part of my social life is in fact a combination of social and sexual. I kind of enjoy that, but it will require some adjustment and rearrangement when my power to attract wanes. I think aging in general is easier to cope with for people who have children and grandchildren to focus your attention on. Not having that, it easily happens that you try to cling to living as if you were in your early twenties forever: fucking around, sowing your wild oats, experimenting and having fun. Nothing wrong with that, except, again, it won’t last forever.
But for now, I’m happy to be able to enjoy an exciting, promiscuous sex life, while also being in a devoted marriage with a man I’ve been with for over two decades.
Well, that’s a summary of my life with the implant – as it was up until Saturday night a little over two weeks ago, when it all changed. But that will be the topic of my next post.
