This family friend I grew up with is now a super conservative, evangelical dude. Like very, very vocal about right wing and religious shit like traditionalism, gender roles, and sexual morality. The memes he posts are so misogynistic—just like absolute slut shaming garbage. Implications that women who enjoy sex too much—even in marriage(!)—are lustful and need to return their focus to their their husbands. Despite having cool parents (who are still friends with mine) he kinda turned out to be complete trash.

I should just unfollow him and be done with it. We haven’t really talked in over a decade. But something about knowing that he sees me see his stories makes me giggle.

Because he knows, I know his secret. He knows I know that he used to be a helpless premature ejaculator. And the more he posts about how women who enjoy sex are whores, the more I am certain he still is. I would be surprised if that man has ever achieved more than four consecutive thrusts into a woman before blowing his load.

He is a few years younger than I am and had always had an obvious crush on me. The summer after his sophomore year in college he came to my graduation party and we reconnected. At the time he was a sweet guy, growing into a pretty hot dude. It surprised me that he was as shy as he was considering I assumed he’d have had his fair share of girls vying for his attention at school.

I had to make the first move to kiss him after he drove me home from a movie, and it was so awkward I was kinda shocked. He didn’t touch me. I had to move my body closer because he stayed glued in his place. His mouth was almost robotic in its movements. I pulled away, thinking I had misread things and overstepped.

“Sorry, I thought you wanted me to…” I apologized, shifting back to my seat.

“No,” he was breathless, almost gritting his teeth, “I…I do…fuck.” His knuckles were white as he gripped his seat. “God damnit…” he grunted and then I saw his hips twitching. He was cumming in his pants.

I couldn’t stop myself from muttering “holy shit” as I watched the wet spot form on the front of his pants.

“I’m so sorry, fuck.” He sort of gasped, as his orgasm subsided. “God damnit.”

I reassured him that it was okay. That shit like this happens sometimes. But no matter what I said, he looked so upset. I tried to kiss him again but he pulled away, and just said “I’m sorry. I should go.”

I didn’t hear from him for almost a week before he called to apologize again. I told him I still wanted to hang out. I figured it was a fluke and honestly I thought it was hot. I had rubbed myself off to the memory multiple times since.

It wasn’t a fluke. In fact it was such a problem for him that at 20 years old he was a complete virgin. Had never had a handjob. Had never gotten head. Had certainly never penetrated a woman. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he physically could not last to ever even get to that point. He cried over the phone as I consoled him and told him I wanted to help.

We spent the summer hooking up. Or, a better way to put it was he spent it creaming every last pair of pants he owned. In three months, I barely ever got his cock out of his pants more than 4-5 times before it was already unloading. Most of the time he was spurting by the time my hand was on his fly. Once I was able to hold it for a minute and a half in a lose grip, no motion before he spunked. Once I was able to kiss the tip with a dry peck before he shot me in the chin and chest. Twice I pumped it 3 whole times before his hips bucked and he sprayed the floor.

We tried having him jerk off right before he came over to empty the chamber. No luck. We tried having him put on a condom to deaden the sensation. He spurted into the first 3 he tried to get on with a hard cock. So we tried putting them on his soft cock. One time it bought him 10 seconds. The second time he ejaculated complete limp as he tried to stuff it in flaccid. We even tried staying in a hotel room, so we could try me waking him up with a handjob, maybe head. Hoping that if he weren’t so immediately mentally turned on that he might be able to delay it. I reached into his waist band as he slept and his hips immediately thrust into my hand. I tried to let go and wake him but unloaded in his sleep before he was fully awake.

We spent all summer trying and trying. I’d go home completely aroused and unsatisfied. I drained him repeatedly but we never really got anywhere. When it was time for him to go back to school he was mentally in a bad spot. I kept trying to reassure him. I even encouraged him to see a therapist or a doctor. Or both. I told him I wanted to keep talking/seeing him. I really did like him. But he basically cut me off when he went back. He didn’t seek medical help, but he got involved with a Campus Crusade for Christ.

I was pretty hurt that he ghosted me then, though now I know he just couldn’t deal.

By the time I saw him again a few years later, I already knew from my parents that he had gotten very religious. Way more than his parents ever were. But it kinda shocking the personality change. Like it wasn’t just he had dedicated himself to his faith. He was so outwardly aggressive about it. Like think about those traveling preachers who spout hate on campuses calling women sluts and threatening hell…not quite that bad, but almost.

He wound up getting heavily involved in a church, leading a youth ministry and then eventually marrying one of those girls when she was 20 and he was 31. Her virginity was such a point of pride…like posts about remaining pure for him as he had for her. Is that what we’re calling it.

I feel so bad for his poor brainwashed wife. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s effectively still a virgin. I’m certain he’s never made her cum. And if she’s ever had an orgasm at all, it was from her own hand. There was a time when he was posting a lot about the sins of female lust in marriage as a sin against her husband and god and I couldn’t help but think he must have caught the poor woman masturbating.

They just recently had their first kid. The posts they both made about the struggles to get there and how God’s grace was what finally blessed them with this miracle. Honestly it pissed me off knowing they were implying infertility when it was really that he is an intractable prejac.

So now, I love to watch his stories. I want him always to have that nagging reminder that I know. Every hateful post, I want him to be reminded just how often and how hard he used to cum all over himself for me. Sometimes I rub off to his posts. If I cum I make sure to like it. Not that he knows I do that, but I like to think it twitches his cock.