Memories - Premature

It was awhile after the last memory I posted about, the panties. We'd moved forward, lingerie was more of a thing in our love making.

But I still struggled, mentally. I remember making love to her, finally entering her, intending to hold on as long as I could, not making it long at all. Ten or fifteen seconds. A few furtive thrusts then orgasm.

I pulled out of her, turned to the side, felt a tear run down my face, another. I tried to stop, but couldn't, was soon crying.

She didn't say anything at first, just kept a hand on my. Part of me hoped she'd get up, leave me alone. But she didn't.

Finally, she spoke. "Why are you crying, love?" she asked.

I said nothing.

She didn't speak for a minute, then asked again. "Why are you crying?" she asked. "You can tell me, please."

"I...I don't know," I lied.

"Sweetie..."

I finally looked over at her. "I...I'm so sorry," I said through the tears.

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

"I...I tried," I said. "I really tried this time. I wanted to, I promised myself. I tried. I tried."

"Tried?"

"Tried," I said.

"Tried to what?"

"To...to please you," I cried.

She had a look on her face, confused, thoughtful. "You think you displeased me?"

"I tried," I said. "I just never...I never can...can last...I try...I just...I think about trying and...I want to and..."

"Oh," she said. "Oh. You mean that." She looked down like she was embarrassed. 

"Yes, that," I said, old wounds ripped open.

"Hon...it...it's okay...you...not all...it doesn't always...last."

"No," I said, "it...it's not okay. It's not normal."

"Normal? What's not normal?"

"I...I should be able to...to please you," I said. "I don't last. Ever."

She touched my face. "You think because you don't last you don't please me?" she asked.

"I...I try," I said, thinking of my first wife, her cruel words. "I know you must hate it."

"Hate it? But...but you do please me," she said. "You...you please me very much."

"Ten seconds of awkward sex is not pleasing," I said.

"An hour of licking me is pleasing," she said. "Very pleasing."

"But I...I should be able to...do more."

"Do more? You don't have to do more," she said, "just...just the opposite. My god, you do so much."

"Don't you want me to...perform."

"Where does this come from?"

I explained. Everything about my first wife. Through more tears, I explained.

"Oh, sweetie," she held me, "sweetie. That's so cruel. So cruel."

"She was cruel," I said. "She...she hurt me...bad."

She thought for a moment, touched me. "I'm not her," she said.

"I know, I just..."

"No," she said. "I'm not her."

"Don't you...don't you like it?"

"Like what?"

"You know...a...a man who can...last."

She chuckled. "Of course I like it," she said, "I like it very much. I mean, I love it. But that's not you...you're...different. You never have to be the man for me, never."

"I can try..."

"No, no, don't try. That's the point, don't try. My god, don't try ever."

"Don't try?"

"Don't try. Don't try to last, in fact, do the opposite."

"The opposite?"

"Embrace it."

"Embrace it?"

"Embrace being...quick. That's you're style, just accept it, embrace it."

"Embrace premature ejaculation?"

"Yes, embrace it. That's you. Hasn't it always been you?"

"But I...I'll...never...never please..."

She smirked. "Everything you do before that pleases me," she said. "Everything. My god, she was cruel because she mocked you for not being manly? Don't. Don't worry about being a man...embrace what you're good at."

"I...I just want to please you."

"Please me by not trying to be a man for me," she said. "Don't you get it, your the most tender lover I've ever had. Be that. Embrace that. Be quick. Always be quick. Just let go. As long as you do what you're good at, you please me."

"You mean that?"

"Yes," she said. "You're so selfless, it...it's amazing. Don't worry about what men do, just be you."

"I'm just afraid I'll never...never be able to...last. I...I never have."

"That's what men worry about," she said. "Embrace it."

"Embrace it?"

"Don't think about lasting, think the opposite. I...I want you to be quick."

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean it," she said. "I mean it. It's not premature; it's exactly what you should do. It's premature for a man, not for you. She was cruel. I'm not. The quicker the better. Don't try to be the man. Don't worry about that. Ever. Just...just let yourself go and accept it."

"You want me to be premature?" I asked, skeptical.

She nodded. "Just think, every time you're inside me, not how long can you last but how quickly can you squirt."

"You mean that?"

"Anything else is cruel," she said. "She mocked you for not being a man? I say embrace being feminine. We'll work on it."

"How?" I asked.

"Trust me," she said, "we'll make sure as soon as you're inside me, you finish. That's our goal, not to last longer but to embrace premature ejaculation. Be feminine, not masculine."

"You...you won't mock me?"

"Hon, just the opposite, I'll encourage you, I'll praise you."

"I don't get you," I said.

"I get you," she said, kissed me. "I get you."