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I met Marc when I was about thirty years old. My encounter with him was a bit particular in its own way. Let me tell you about it. I was single at the time and looking for a nice, serious person who could share their life with mine. Or at least have some good, long sex with.

I can very well remember our encounter.

The first meeting

I noticed him right away: He was 1,90 m tall , slender and very handsome. He was heartily laughing with his friends at a table in the bar I was in. I remember casting naughty glances at him. That wasn’t usual for me but the wheather was hot and that helped me to forget about my inhibitions.

He seemed a bit embarrassed when he finally came up to me, saying goodbye to his friends. We drank a couple of beers together and chatted about different stuff.

I got to find out that he was also single, which enchanted me. He was a manager by a prêt-a-porter firm and was into sports, nautical skiing in particular. He was about thirty and had had a couple of relationships which never really got to last very long.

He somehow avoided talking about his failed love affaires. I thought that he was one of these men who didn’t want to commit. Hopefully he was willing to take advantage of the opportunities life offered him.

The more time passed and the more I felt charmed by this man.

The next logical step

After a while began to feel the dizziness of alcohol in my head. I kind of felt that he was holding back a bit. Simultaniously Contemporaneously I was aware of his attraction towards me.  I finally decided to take the initiative and to offer him a drink at my place.

He reacted kind of embarrassed at my suggestion but took the offer with a smile. But something was wrong. I had the impression that he shuddered a bit when we left the bar: Had I come across a prude man? That would have been a first.

We took my car and before we pulled away I decided to madly kiss him. He didn’t push me away. We started to undress in the car. He followed up on his gazes [looks] towards my chest tits.

A bad surprise

Exactly at that point I realized that the poor Marc had finished before he even took his cock out. Premature ejaculation as they call it

He was terribly confused and red in his face, he began to painfully apologize.

I must say that I felt a bit disappointed and sorry for him. I tried to comfort him by saying that that could happen to anyone and that the night was still young. We chilled a bit and made for my flat in down-town.

There, the simular scenario repeated itself for several times before we gave up, tired and disappointed.

Thoughts about a premature ejaculator

Can you imagine how it is like to have a handsome man in one’s bed and not to have the chance to feel his cock between one’s legs? Just because it simply goes wet and soft before he even touches you?

I felt so much pity with myself but especially with this man. He could be such a great inspiration for women’s fantasies. Instead he was a big disappointment just at the moment where these fantasies hsould have come to life.

Suddenly I understood that this kind of event was quite usual for him. It was the reason why his other relationships failed. Indeed I felt sorry for him and I also tried to comfort him.

I knew we would never see each other again. I I don’t want a man who can’t even cure premature ejaculation problems he has. And I don’t want to feel sorry again - especially not for myself.