I'm Circumcised. Here's What Men Ask Me.

A few years ago, I was drying myself off in the communal showers at a naturist resort when another man approached me. He seemed a bit hesitant, which was funny considering we were both completely naked. He wanted to know whether he could ask me something personal, and whether I'd be offended. I told him it took a lot to offend me, and to go ahead. He'd noticed a few days earlier that I was circumcised, and he was curious. Very curious, as it turned out. 

What followed was a surprisingly detailed conversation about sensitivity, sex, masturbation and orgasms. He wanted to know what it felt like to have the head of my penis permanently exposed, whether I had less sensation than an uncircumcised man, which parts of my penis were most sensitive, and whether being circumcised affected my masturbation technique, or the pleasure I experienced during sex.

I didn't mind his questions in the slightest. In fact, I rather enjoyed the conversation. Here was a grown man who'd spent years considering a circumcision, wondering what being circumcised felt like, yet had probably never found himself in a situation where he felt comfortable asking.

That's something I've noticed a lot during my years as a naturist and adult content creator. Men are curious about other men's bodies, particularly when they notice something different about them, but we're not always very good at talking about it. We might happily discuss our expanding waistlines or the state of our knees, yet asking another man how his penis feels because it looks different is apparently crossing some great conversational red line.

Personally, I've never understood why we have to be quite so shy about it.

I've spent decades as a naturist, worked as a life model for more than twenty-five years, created sex-positive adult content, and even owned a naturist personal training gym. I'm comfortable discussing the male body, including the bits most men don't talk about over coffee. Sex, masturbation, sensitivity, erections, orgasms; they're all normal aspects of being male, and I don't see why we should have to whisper about them.

I'm also aware that being circumcised makes me, statistically, in the minority among British men. And, judging by some of the conversations I've had, it seems there are plenty of men who'd quite like to know what life without a foreskin actually feels like. Well, here's my experience. And I promise not to pretend that every circumcised man feels exactly as I do.

The first thing men notice.

Let's get the obvious bit out of the way. I'm circumcised, or 'cut', as it's more commonly known, so the head of my penis is permanently exposed. Even when I'm completely flaccid, there's no foreskin covering the glans. The skin sits behind the ridge of the head, and while there are natural folds along the shaft, nothing extends forward to cover it.

My circumcision scar is fairly subtle. There's a slight change in the look of the skin around the shaft, but I don't have a particularly prominent circular scar. Unless someone was specifically looking for it, I doubt they'd pay much attention to it. The exposed head is a rather more obvious clue.

I'm also what men sometimes call a 'grower'. I measure around three inches when flaccid, increasing to approximately eight inches when erect. The difference is quite substantial, and it changes the appearance of my circumcision considerably. When I'm soft, there's a fair amount of wrinkling and movement in the shaft skin. During an erection, much of that slack disappears as the penis expands, although there's still enough movable skin for me to masturbate comfortably without any lubrication.

One part of my penis that deserves a mention is the underside of the glans. Although I was circumcised as a baby, I have retained some tissue where my frenulum originally attached. When I'm flaccid, there's a visible fold or joining of skin immediately beneath the head. As I become erect, that tissue stretches and becomes comfortably taut. It isn't tight, and I've never had any difficulty with it, but it makes a considerable difference to how I experience sensation there.

I'll come back to that shortly, because it's probably the most interesting part of this entire subject.

Of course, not every circumcised penis looks like mine. I've seen men whose circumcision leaves the shaft skin extremely tight, others who have considerable movement remaining, and some whose skin partly covers the ridge of the glans when flaccid. The position of the scar can vary, too, as can the amount of frenular tissue that's preserved.

That's something people don't always realise. When somebody says he's circumcised, it doesn't tell you precisely what his penis looks like or how it functions. And it's precisely because of those differences that men sometimes find themselves asking questions.

My unexpected career as a circumcision adviser.

One of the more memorable conversations I had about my circumcision happened at my naturist personal training gym. I had a client who'd been considering circumcision for several years. He'd obviously given it quite a lot of thought, but he was still unsure about how the operation might affect him. Because he'd seen that I was circumcised, he began asking questions during one of our training sessions.

I never imagined that owning a gym would involve advising somebody about foreskins, but there we are!

He was interested in the practicalities. What did the head feel like when permanently exposed? Was it uncomfortable against clothing? Did I have any issues with tightness? How sensitive was my 'banjo string' as he put it. Had it made any difference to my sex life, and was I pleased with the appearance?

I was happy to tell him about my experiences, and I could understand why he wanted to know. If you're considering having part of your penis surgically removed, you probably want more information than the usual hospital leaflet provides. And there's a significant difference between reading a clinical description of circumcision and speaking to somebody who's lived with the result for over fifty years.

What I couldn't tell him was whether he'd feel the same way afterwards. I've never known anything different, whereas he had a lifetime of experience with a foreskin. He had something to compare it with; I didn't. I could describe my anatomy and the sensations I experience, but his outcome would depend on his own anatomy, the operation, healing and individual sensitivity.

It's something I still encounter occasionally. Men who are thinking about circumcision are sometimes keen to talk about the result they'd like, even showing me what they mean or comparing the appearance of their foreskin with my exposed glans. Others are more interested in the sensitivity side, particularly whether removing the foreskin might make masturbation or sex less pleasurable.

The funny thing is that I often notice their curiosity before they say anything. A quick glance, followed by another, and then perhaps a slightly awkward smile. I'll often start the conversation myself because I can tell there's a question waiting to come out.

I don't assume that somebody looking at my penis is sexually interested in it. Naturists notice each other's bodies all the time. We notice tattoos, scars, unusual tan lines and everything else that makes us physically different. If something looks unfamiliar, it's natural to be curious. And I'm certainly not offended by questions about my penis. Quite the opposite. I'd much rather somebody asked me what it feels like than went away believing something they'd read from a stranger on the internet.

Why was I circumcised in the first place?

According to my father, I was born with an unusually large foreskin. The doctor who examined me apparently believed it might cause problems later in life, particularly with hygiene, comfort and, eventually, masturbation and sexual intercourse. He recommended circumcision, and my parents agreed. I believe I was less than a year old when the operation was performed, which would place it in the 1970s.

I've never held the decision against my parents. They trusted their doctor, as most parents would, and presumably believed they were doing something beneficial for their son. I certainly don't feel that my father needs to defend a decision made decades ago on medical advice.

Nor have I ever wished I hadn't been circumcised.

I've wondered what having a foreskin might look or feel like, of course. I think any circumcised man who enjoys understanding his own body is likely to have been curious at some point. But if I could somehow have my foreskin back tomorrow, I wouldn't want it. I genuinely like being circumcised. I like the appearance, I'm completely comfortable with it, and I've never regarded it as a disadvantage.

I first became aware that my penis looked different from most other boys in school changing rooms after PE and swimming. It never embarrassed me. I understood why I looked different, and there were a few other circumcised boys, so I wasn't exactly the odd one out. Looking back, it's interesting how little I thought about it at the time. My penis was simply my penis, and that was that.

The questions men really want to ask: what does it feel like?

Now we come to the part that seems to generate the greatest curiosity. Whenever men find out that I'm happy talking about my penis, the conversation often moves towards sensitivity. And this is where I think there's a lot of misunderstanding, because people talk about sensitivity as though the entire penis experiences sensation in exactly the same way.

Mine doesn't.

Let's start with the glans, which is the part people most often assume must be either extraordinarily sensitive or completely numb. Because my glans have been exposed since infancy, I'm accustomed to it being in contact with clothing, bedding, towels and everything else. I'm not constantly aware of it rubbing against my underwear, and I certainly don't spend my day feeling uncomfortable because there's no foreskin protecting it.

In fact, I barely notice ordinary contact.

But if the glans itself is deliberately rubbed, I can experience a slightly uncomfortable, almost burning sensation. It's difficult to describe because it isn't exactly painful, but it's not particularly pleasurable either. Immediately after orgasm, direct stimulation of the glans can become much more uncomfortable, to the point where I really don't want it touched.

This surprises some men. There's an assumption that the head must be the most pleasurable part of the penis, and that rubbing it should produce intense sexual sensation. Perhaps it does for some men, but that's not how mine works.

The shaft is different again. I'd describe its ordinary sensitivity as moderate to low, although it becomes more responsive when erect. Stimulation contributes to sexual pleasure, certainly, but on its own it isn't especially intense.

The really interesting area, for me, is underneath the glans.

Remember that little fold of tissue I mentioned earlier, where my frenulum appears to have been partially preserved? That's where I experience by far the greatest sexual sensitivity. The area is surprisingly small, extending from the remaining frenular attachment to roughly two centimetre below it. Yet the difference in sensation compared with the rest of my penis is world's apart. It's particularly responsive to light touch. Even something as delicate as the bristles of a soft make-up brush can produce an extraordinary sensory response that can bring me to orgasm.

And before anyone assumes I'm suggesting this is typical of circumcised men, I'm not. The amount of frenular tissue retained after circumcision varies considerably, and so does individual sensitivity. Some men have very little obvious frenulum remaining, while others retain a substantial part of it. I've no way of knowing how my sensitivity would compare with having an intact foreskin. But I do know that the tissue remaining beneath my glans is extraordinarily responsive, and that it plays a much greater role in my sexual pleasure than the glans itself.

Which brings me to one of the biggest misunderstandings surrounding circumcision.

Penis sensitivity and orgasm sensation are not the same thing.

I've encountered people who insist that circumcised men must experience weaker orgasms because they've lost sensitive tissue. And while it's perfectly reasonable to discuss how removing the foreskin might alter sexual sensation, I think there's a crucial distinction being overlooked.

The sensitivity of the skin on your penis isn't the same thing as the intensity of the orgasm you experience.

Consider how different parts of your own body respond to touch. Some areas are extraordinarily sensitive, but that doesn't necessarily make the sensation pleasurable. The soles of your feet might be highly sensitive to light contact, for example, but sensitivity alone doesn't tell you whether you'll enjoy being touched there.

The penis is considerably more complicated because we're dealing with ordinary sensory perception, sexual arousal and orgasm, which are related but distinct experiences. Touching the penis activates sensory nerves, which send signals through the nervous system. Sexual pleasure involves how those signals are interpreted, together with arousal and activity throughout the brain and body. Orgasm involves additional neurological processes and muscular contractions, particularly around the pelvis. Even orgasm and ejaculation, which usually happen together, are technically separate processes.

I find this distinction particularly relevant to my own experience.

As I've explained, direct stimulation of my glans doesn't do a great deal for me sexually. It contributes to the overall sensation when I'm aroused, but it certainly isn't where I experience the greatest pleasure. The area around my remaining frenulum is a completely different matter. Sensation there can be extraordinarily pleasurable, particularly during the build-up to orgasm.

But when I actually reach orgasm, I'm experiencing something different again. The physical sensations of climax involve considerably more than the specific patch of skin being stimulated. The pleasure of stimulation and the pleasure of orgasm are connected, but I can clearly distinguish one from the other. And, as far as my own experience is concerned, increasing stimulation of the glans itself doesn't make my orgasms stronger or longer. Yet I regularly encounter claims that circumcised men must experience inferior orgasms simply because we've lost nerve endings in the foreskin.

The foreskin does contain sensory nerve endings, and removing it changes the anatomy and potentially the sensations experienced during sexual activity. Some men who were circumcised as adults describe reduced pleasure afterwards. Others report little difference, and some report improvements, particularly when surgery resolved pain or other medical problems.

But none of that allows somebody to look at a circumcised penis and determine how intensely its owner experiences orgasm.

A study published in 'The Journal of Sexual Medicine' in 2023 compared the pleasurable areas of the penis and different aspects of orgasm in more than 400 circumcised and uncircumcised men. It found no differences in the orgasm durations and intensities examined. I've actually taken part in a couple of studies involving sexual pleasure and orgasm, including measures of intensity and duration. My own results have been particularly high, comparing above uncircumcised participants on all of the measures.

I'm not suggesting that proves circumcision improves orgasms. It doesn't. My results are mine, and I have no way of knowing what those same results might have been had I never been circumcised. But I find it fascinating that somebody can be convinced my orgasms must be less pleasurable simply because of how my penis looks. If anything, my experience has taught me just how much variation there is in where men experience sexual pleasure. I don't believe there's one universal pattern that applies to every circumcised man, any more than there is for every man with a foreskin.

And what about masturbation?

This is another aspect men sometimes raise, particularly those considering circumcision.

One of the most persistent claims is that circumcised men can't masturbate comfortably without lube because they've lost the movement provided by the foreskin. Well, I've managed perfectly well for most of my life, thank you very much! As I've mentioned, my circumcision left a moderate amount of mobile shaft skin. Even when erect, there's sufficient movement for comfortable masturbation, and I've never needed lubrication for purely practical reasons.

When I first discovered masturbation, like most teenage boys, I simply worked out what felt pleasurable. I didn't have a foreskin, and I certainly didn't regard that as an obstacle. It wasn't until my late teens that I discovered using lube, and I quickly realised I preferred it. The difference for me is pleasure rather than necessity. Lube makes stimulation feel smoother and more comfortable, and it massively enhances the sensations I enjoy, particularly around that sensitive area beneath the glans. I reach orgasm easier and the stimulation is more pleasurable when using it.

The same applies during sex. I prefer lubrication because it feels better, not because I'm physically incapable of enjoying sex without it. I think that's worth mentioning because the internet is full of claims about what circumcised men supposedly 'must' do to enjoy themselves.

Some circumcised men do have relatively tight shaft skin and may find lubrication helpful or necessary for comfortable stimulation. Others have considerably more mobility. Some uncircumcised men enjoy using lubricant too. So the presence or absence of a foreskin doesn't dictate every aspect of how a man enjoys his body. And having spent years as a personal trainer, I can tell you that people's bodies respond differently to almost everything. It would be rather strange if sexual sensation were the one exception.

The myths that make me roll my eyes.

There's no shortage of misinformation about circumcision, particularly on social media and discussion forums. Some of it comes from people who believe circumcision is beneficial, while some comes from those who oppose it entirely. I don't have a problem with either side having an opinion. What irritates me is when personal opinion is presented as a scientific certainty, especially when somebody starts telling me what I must or mustn't experience in my own body.

Take the idea that circumcised men become almost completely desensitised because their exposed glans develops a thick, leathery surface. I've read some quite extraordinary descriptions that make it sound as though we've all got the skin of an old gardening glove covering the head of our penis. Permanent exposure can change how the glans responds to everyday contact, and circumcision can affect sensitivity. But the claims about every circumcised penis becoming virtually numb aren't true. I can certainly feel touch on my glans. It's simply not my most pleasurable area.

Another claim is that circumcision makes men last longer during sex. Some people seem convinced that removing the foreskin automatically reduces sensitivity sufficiently to delay ejaculation. Research into ejaculation timing has produced mixed results, and there's no reliable guarantee that circumcision will make a man last longer.

Then there's hygiene.

Yes, having the glans permanently exposed makes cleaning relatively straightforward, and there's no space beneath a foreskin where smegma can build up. But having a foreskin doesn't make a man inherently unhygienic. An uncircumcised penis with a normally retractable foreskin can be kept perfectly clean through ordinary washing. And, believe me, being circumcised doesn't excuse anybody from washing their cock.

The claim I dislike most, though, is that circumcised men have somehow been damaged or mutilated. I've encountered people who are passionately opposed to infant circumcision, and I understand the argument about consent. It's an irreversible procedure, and babies obviously can't decide for themselves whether they want it performed.

Some men deeply regret having been circumcised and feel that an important part of their anatomy was taken away without their permission. I have no reason to question how they feel. But I don't particularly appreciate somebody telling me that I ought to feel the same. I like my penis. I enjoy my sex life, I'm happy with the way my body looks and feels, and I don't regard my circumcision as some terrible personal misfortune.

I can also understand why an adult man might consider circumcision for medical or personal reasons, although I'd always suggest that he researched the potential consequences carefully and spoke to an appropriately qualified doctor. I wouldn't encourage somebody to have part of his foreskin removed simply because I'm happy without mine. The way I've experienced circumcision since infancy may be quite different from what a man experiences after undergoing the operation as an adult.

But equally, I don't think anybody should presume that because I was circumcised as a baby, I've spent the rest of my life missing out on something wonderful. I genuinely don't know what having a foreskin would feel like. I can't compare two versions of my own sexual experience because I've only ever known one. And neither can somebody else make that comparison for me.

Why I enjoy these conversations.

One of the more interesting things about naturism is how it changes the way you look at other people's bodies.

When you're accustomed to being naked around other men, you become familiar with an enormous range of physical differences. Some men have long foreskins, some have short ones, some are circumcised, and some have foreskins that naturally sit behind the glans even when flaccid.

There are variations in size, shape, pigmentation, scars and all sorts of anatomical details that most people rarely see outside their own bedrooms. And despite what some people imagine, naturism doesn't mean everybody is constantly inspecting everybody else's genitals. After a while, nakedness becomes so ordinary that you barely think about it.

But sometimes something catches your attention, and there's nothing particularly strange about that.

I find the conversations that follow rather more interesting than the initial observation. When somebody asks about my circumcision, they're often curious about something they've never experienced themselves. They may have spent years wondering whether sex feels different without a foreskin, or whether a circumcised man has the same level of pleasure from orgasm.

Occasionally, once they realise I'm comfortable discussing it, the questions become surprisingly detailed. Some men want to understand where I'm most sensitive or how the remaining skin moves. Others ask whether I regret being circumcised, whether I prefer the appearance, or whether I'd ever consider trying foreskin restoration.

I appreciate that not every naturist would welcome those questions. Some people prefer to keep their sexual experiences entirely private, and that's absolutely their choice. But I don't have those reservations. I've always been comfortable talking about the male body, and I find it fascinating how differently men experience sensation, pleasure and their own anatomy.

There's also something quite refreshing about a man admitting that he doesn't know something and simply asking another man to explain it. I've learnt plenty about the human body through textbooks, training courses and scientific studies, but there's a type of understanding you only get from hearing somebody describe what something actually feels like to them. And when the subject is sexual pleasure, those personal accounts can be particularly revealing.

So, am I pleased I'm circumcised?

Yes. Very much so.

I don't say that to encourage anyone else to be circumcised, or because I think a circumcised penis is inherently better than one with a foreskin. It's simply how I feel about mine. I've never been embarrassed about being cut, even when I first realised I looked different from most other boys at school. I've never felt awkward about being naked around uncircumcised men, and I've never wished I could reverse the operation.

I sometimes wonder how different my sexual sensations might be if I'd kept my foreskin, particularly around the frenulum and glans. I imagine most circumcised men have wondered about that at some point. But I've no way of finding out, and it doesn't particularly trouble me. What does interest me is how much we can learn by having the sort of frank conversations that many men avoid.

I've been surprised by how many men are genuinely fascinated by circumcision, and how many questions they have about sensation and orgasm. Some have considered having the operation themselves; others are simply curious about a penis that's anatomically different from their own.

And I've enjoyed answering them. So if you've ever noticed that I'm circumcised while we're sharing a naturist beach, swimming pool or communal shower, and you've got a question, you're welcome to ask me.

And I'd genuinely like to hear from other men, circumcised or otherwise. If you're cut, where do you experience the greatest sensitivity? Do you find the glans particularly pleasurable, or is the frenular area more important? How do you distinguish stimulation from the actual sensation of orgasm? And if you're uncircumcised, is there something about being cut that you've always wondered about but never felt comfortable asking?

I'm particularly interested in the differences between our experiences, rather than another argument about which is supposed to be better. After all, I've spent my whole adult life without a foreskin and I'm still discovering how curious other men are about it.

Colin. x

*These are my personal experiences, not a medical assessment of circumcision or a prediction of how another man will respond to surgery. Circumcision can change sensitivity and sexual function, and individual outcomes vary. Anyone considering the procedure should seek qualified medical advice.*