The Perfect Wank

Not saying girl

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The thought occurred to me one night when I was sitting at my computer typing out my dissertation  I don't know where it came from, really, but all of a sudden, my fingers had left the keyboard to rest on both sides of my forehead. It crashed in all at once that in twenty-five years, I hadn't once achieved The Perfect Wank.

I've had good wanks. I've had excellent wanks. I've had wanks so good they will be engraved in my memory forever - January 1st 1998, stroke (pardon the pun) of midnight as I sat alone in my room. But had I ever really truly experienced The Perfect Wank? No, I had not.

It occurred to me right then that perhaps The Perfect Wank was a bit like writing a dissertation. Something which required effort, thought and planning. And time. But ultimately, something unimaginably rewarding, something you could be proud of, something you could cherish the memories of forever.

And if you really want to know, I figured it was a hell of a better way to spend an hour than typing out bloody chapters of quantum physics.I set to it.

Wanking, for me, usually involves a little peccadillo that wouldn't even occur to most people. Let's get right to it: sneezing. Weird but true. There is not a single sound more erotic on God's green earth than the sound of a woman sneezing. Think about it: it's as natural and all-consuming as an orgasm, except it originates in the nose instead of wherever it comes from in women. Scrunched up features. Loss of control. Massive explosion. It's obvious, when you think about it. Everyone should be turned on by seeing a gorgeous woman sneeze. Why sit at home and watch pornography when you can hop down to your local allergist and enjoy small explosive wonders that aren't faked and enhanced for the camera?

Seeing as it was nearly midnight, however, I was happy not to leave my house to set about achieving The Perfect Wank. I decided to set the mood before fishing in my pants. I rustled around and dug up a candle my last girlfriend had forgotten when she packed her stuff to leave. I got the bottle of massage oil that lurks in my right drawer for just such occasions. I put some music on the stereo, Moby, ambient and chilled-out. And then, I prepared not to chill out but to explode.

I sat down again in front of my computer, closing off Word, getting my dissertation as far away from my mind as possible. This wasn't going to be quantum physics; this was going to be natural science. I stripped naked except for earphones, which I popped onto my head after removing my T-shirt. I sat down, and took a deep breath.

Windows explorer. My Music folder. MS3402 folder. Click click click. Immediately, a sweet serenade of sneezes filled my ears.

I slid my hand down my stomach, past my navel, skimming over coarse hairs and squeezed my cock. I already had a semi, which had appeared and persisted throughout my preparations. It took no time at all for the rest of it to harden, and harden it did, as I expertly began to stroke it. Slowly at first, concentrating on the sneezes I was hearing, forming images in my mind.

Suzanne from my course, the beautiful blond with the big breasts, nose reddened from a cold that forced her into sneeze after sneeze. That cute little brunette from the Cash and carry, having an allergy attack at the register, desperate not to sneeze but still compelled to do it. Ramona, the Spanish beauty who was dating my best mate, inhaling pepper in a negligee, sneezing, sneezing... All of them were sneezing for me behind my closed lids, and let me tell you, it was a truly beautiful spectacle.

My hand kept up the tempo, fluid motions enhanced by the oil, slowly at first and then picking up speed. My breathing changed until it sometimes began to hitch not unlike that of the ladies I was listening to. It was fantastic. I was so on edge and yet felt like I could go on like this forever. I knew exactly where to press, when to lay off, to keep myself just on the borderline of a truly thunderous explosion for a small eternity. And when I came, I was going to make sure it would be a very, very Big Bang.

My absolute favourite sneeze recording of the moment has just kicked on. Sarah-17snz. The one I'd already splashed to a number of times. I can't tell you how much I love this woman's sneezes; they've got that je-ne-sais-quoi that drives me absolutely up the wall. Sarah-17snz will breathe a bit between sneezes, hitching, desperate breaths, and then let loose with violently quiet sneezes that sound like high-pitched, quicksilver fireworks. They are absolutely stunning. I decide she is going to be it. If one woman deserves to bear the brunt of The Perfect Wank, then this lady, Sarah-17snz, deserves to be it.

I'm there. I'm so there. The candle's flickering expectantly. The music is pounding away, pre-orgasmic tension filling the room. My thighs are shaking, my hand a blur. "Five seconds," I fleetingly think, "another sneeze..."

The phone rings.

You saw this coming, didn't you? There are higher powers up there, beings of unimaginable cynicism and power, that make us dance and spin like marionettes. Their rules are complex, their logic unfathomable.

My hand stops as I yell out words which should never be uttered. I ejaculate, but I not come. I am absolutely GUTTED! In a rage, I reach out and pick up the mobile, tearing the earphones off. Oh, supreme beings, your sense of humour is twisted indeed...

It's my mum. She's on holiday down under. She's forgotten about time differences, so sorry, but seeing as she's gotten a hold of me, how am I doing, how's my dissertation, have I given any thought to making her a grandmother yet?

I sit in my lounge, alone with my nakedness, my frustration and my mother asking me whether I've found a girlfriend yet. The Perfect Wank has eluded me yet again... But by God, you can bet that there will be a next time. After all there are worse ways to leave this world than to die trying.