Premature congratulation: The tale of a One Minute Man

Jumping into her bed, I quickly located the point of entry and then my crotch swelled inside of her with the hard-edged passion of a man in a hurry.

30 seconds later, electricity sent waves through my push-up positioned body as muscle contractions in my stomach shredded it into a six pack of Mr. Universe proportions. And beads of sweat ran down my head to my chest before a shivering sensation proclaimed a cold day in hell.

My body went numb, I had come.

The lady suddenly felt the full weight of my body collapse on her as she sighed before saying, “You’re done???”

I was more shocked than she was. I mean, I was a half a minute man…which is thirty seconds less than what most women would consider a nightmarish romp.

This clearly meant that I had the kind of problem that turns one into the problem.

Usually, I could go from 0 Kilometres per hour to 100, in an hour and a half. So, sexually speaking, I was a half an hour man.

This reduction in my sexual potency made me realise that the proverbial “shake a bottle of champagne” that comes just before ejaculation had led to a party, way before the party.

I decided that I needed to see a shrink, since orgasms are in the mind, not the front behind.

Rolling up to Kadic Clinic on the border of Bukoto and Ntinda, I went behind the clinic to see the ‘therapist’ as I looked around to make sure nobody was watching.

“A great sexual experience can depend on age, timing, location, intimacy, connection with your partner, or even connection with yourself,” said the therapist sagely.

That’s when I realised it: the location of the lady’s place had caused premature ejaculation based on the fact that I knew she had a big, bad boyfriend who could rush in on us at any time.

And there was also the fact that this was just a wet dream.