Sunday Confessional: The Danger W**k

There are two types of people in this world - those who danger wank and those who don't know what they're missing.

For the unacquainted, urbandictionary offers a number of definitions:

"The act of extreme masturbation. You must knock one out whilst in close proximity to any of the following: your mum, a nun, your boss, a Member of Parliament, George Michael."

Or perhaps:

"Masturbation performed in highly-perilous situations, usually involving the risk of being caught mid-task. Users often say that wanking in these situations heightens the sexual pleasure."

There was a great example on one of those Builders from Hell shows. This woman suspected a tradesman of jerking off in her house. The producers ended up catching him on CCTV christening every room.

Hardcore, perhaps - but danger wanking is more common than you think. The concept certainly wasn't new to my male chums when I quizzed them this week.

One - we'll call him Johnny - discovered the dubious pastime aged 14.

Johnny set the scene with pride, describing how a friend's mum drove them to football training one day. Alone in the backseat, he used the cover of a kit bag to yank his juvenile boner.

I asked why. His reply wasn't particularly enlightening:

"Well, I get a bit excited before playing football."

Other examples came to light: up a tree; in a cave; one pal even admitted to once indulging while driving along the M62.

It's all about seeing how far you can go without being caught, it seems. The riskier the scenario, the greater the thrill.

I know what you're thinking, ladies - we're just perverted little boys, right? Perhaps - but an email to my Sunday Confessional inbox revealed danger wanking is not an exclusively male hobby.

I'll leave you with my female correspondent's tale…

"I work for a well-known hotel chain and frequently find myself looking for ways to break up the monotony. Sitting on reception during an early morning shift a few months back, I felt a familiar sensation rising up my body. There were no angry businessmen flinging their keys in my direction at this time - and my manager was wasting his pocket money on the fruit machine. I moved into the back office and manoeuvred the CCTV so it looked onto reception - that way I'd get a heads up if anyone approached. My choice to wear trousers was not wise but I could just about slip my fingers through the zip. This actually made it more fun. So there I was, hand rammed in my pants. It felt so good, so I upped the pace and was about to reach a climax when the oh-so-familiar sound of stray phlegm warned me that one of our regulars had come for his Daily Mail. Almost there, I wasn't going to stop. It was better than I had imagined and I couldn't prevent a loud sigh leaving my lips. I picked up his paper, hoping the old man hadn't heard - but the astonished look on his face told me he had. I smiled sweetly and returned to sort the cameras feeling rather satisfied."

Whatever seedy little secret you're hiding - think love, lies, spite or self-pleasure - I want to hear about it. Your story can be as long or short as you like and all emails will be treated in the strictest confidence. And don't worry, if your confession makes it on to plentymorefishoutofwater, your anonymity will be protected. Don't fancy emailing? Feel free to leave an anonymous comment on any of my SC posts with your secret or confession.