Jonathan was the whole package. He was young, athletic, muscular, good looking, well hung and intelligent.
He was growing increasingly frustrated, however. Getting dates was no problem; he had his pick of nubile young women who were enraptured by his charm.
The difficulty came in getting third or fourth dates. After the second or third date, when he had bedded a woman, they suddenly began ghosting him. They had to wash their hair, their mom was sick, or they just did not respond to his texts at all.
He was, of course putting two and two together about the reasons. It was confirmed for him one afternoon when he was sitting in his favorite coffee shop. A group of women were sitting on the other side of a partition. He was not trying to eaves drop, but he could not miss their conversation, especially when his name came up.
"Jonathan Richards texted me yesterday and asked me out. He is so fucking hot, and funny!"
One of the other girls laughed, "Oh, girl, don't bother."
"Really? Why?"
"Megan, and Tiffany, and Bea all went out with him. Let's just say it does no good to have a Ferrari or a Beamer if it can't start your motor."
"Really?? You mean..."
"Doesn't know what he's doing and a two-pump chump. Save yourself, sweetie."
Jon nearly choked on his coffee. He was trying to cope with the reputation he had apparently earned when the girls got up to leave, walking by his table.
Becky, the one who had shot an arrow through his balloon, noticed him, and realized he had to have heard her comments. She blushed furiously and began apologizing profusely.
He had tears in his eyes, but he responded kindly. "It's okay, Rebecca. At least now I know. I'm glad I heard you."
It had been three months since the coffee shop incident. Jon had been celibate since that day, by his own choice. He was hypersensitive about his performance now and had avoided asking anyone out. A couple of girls had asked him out, but he made the same excuses he had been getting from others.
He was not even certain what he was doing wrong, so how could he risk embarrassing himself?
His Aunt Marcie had always been a go to person when he was having troubles. But this was a pretty personal topic. His libido finally won out, though. He asked her out to dinner, and ensured the server gave them a remote table so they could talk.
After he had explained what he had heard, and that apparently the problem had been with EVERY woman he had ever been with, Marcie paused and thought as she ate.
"Are you having a problem with premature ejaculation? Do you last very long?"
He spoke softly, "I thought I did okay. But apparently not."
"Do you spend any time on foreplay?"
"What is that?"
Well, that explained part of it. "Kissing, caressing, cunnilingus..."
He smiled, "We usually make out for a minute or two before we do it. What is cunny...ingus?"
Oh, boy. This boy needed help. "Do you... lick their pussy?"
"Eww."
They ate their dinner while she contemplated. As they waited for their dessert, she spoke again.
"I have an idea, if you are willing."
"I think at this point I... beggars can't be choosers..."
She chuckled. At least he had the right attitude.
"I have a friend, Katrina. She is my age, I think she is forty-four. So she is experienced, and she used to be... a teacher of sorts. If she is willing to tutor you, would be open to being taught?"
"How do you teach something like that?"
"Well, we would have to ask her. But I would imagine like anything, practice makes perfect."
"So we would have to actually do it? Is she...she's older, so is she..."
Marcie grinned, "Attractive?"
"Well, yeah. I mean it won't do much good if I can't get it up, right?"
She was being patient. "Honey, she is hotter than a two dollar pistol."
"Umm...what does that mean?"
"It means it will definitely not be a problem. She is very sexy, very smart, and very... horny."
"Oh. Well, sure. You don't think she will laugh at me do you?"
She placed her hand on his. "I cannot promise what techniques she might use to encourage you. I can tell you she is a very caring person."
A few days later, Marcie sent a text to her nephew.
*Are you free this weekend?*
Oh, wow. *Yes. No plans. *
*Good. You have a date Friday night @ 6. Don't make any plans for the weekend.*
He thought for a minute. *How much will it cost?* He was not a rich guy.
There was a delay in her response. He felt bad when he got it.
*She is not a prostitute, dumbass. She is doing this as a favor to me. Expect to pay for dinner like you would any other date. And you better treat her right. We go way back. I'll send you her address.*
*THANK YOU!*
He arrived at the address ten minutes early, holding a bouquet of flowers. It was a nice, modest house in a nice neighborhood.
He rang the doorbell and was kept waiting for about two minutes. When it finally opened the woman who greeted him was not what he expected. His manhood, already self-denied for weeks, quickly grew erect in his blue jeans. He was not poorly endowed, so the erection was very apparent.
So the first words he heard in her sultry voice were, "Well, hello to you too, little Jonny."
He was terrified. Aunt Marcie had kept a lot of information from him. He hem and hawed, unable to speak, and thrust the flowers at her.
