[Ages ago I did a tweet that included a silly joke about wanting to bundle men up in a blanket and give them a hand job and a stern talking-to. Someone messaged me to say there might be some smut in that, so I had a go at writing some. I don’t know how good it is, just that I had fun writing it. It hinges on eroticisation of sexual shame (specifically masturbation shame), so please note I don’t actually think it is shameful to masturbate, obviously: wanking is one of my favourite hobbies. But shame is fun to kink, so that’s what I’m doing here.]

You promised you wouldn’t come while you were away. I was looking forward to all the spunk built up during my seven day absence – that thick, powerful brand of cum that thuds from your dick after a long period of denial and frustration. You promised me you wouldn’t come. And yet the second my flight had landed, I received a text from you letting me know that you failed.

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The first time I make you come is just for me. I’m not even going to bother taking off all my clothes. I’ll just yank my knickers to one side, hop on your erection the second it’s hard enough, and ride your dick till you fill me up with spunk.

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