We wake up in bed together. You recount the details of how last night was the best sex of your life and that you're glad I didn't run away when you told me you were a witch at the bar. You ask me to eat you out. I refuse citing your failure to make me cum orally last night. You become angry, realizing sex is nothing but quid pro quo to me. You decide that you'll make sure sex always one-sided for me from now on. You cast a spell and begin a special magic handjob: you will magically keep me from coming, but each stroke will make my cock more and more sensitive. As you stroke, you describe one by one which of my deeds from last night would now be impossible for me given how sensitive my cock is becoming. I feel the need to cum more and more badly, but can't. As you get me to the point my cock is so sensitive that merely penetrating a woman's mouth or pussy would cause me to explode, you explain that I have a hard choice. You will remove the part of the spell making me more sensitive or the part keeping me from coming: but not both. I must decide between my and any future partner's pleasure. You increase the pace and talk about how unbearable it must be toned to cum so badly. You describe how insanely hard my cock is, how badly it's throbbing and leaking pre-cum. Finally, I beg you to cum. You cast a spell, releasing the block and I shoot the biggest load of my life. I curse you for resigning me to a life of masturbation. You laugh. You explain that as an added twist, you decided to leave the block in place just for that. I can't cum from masturbation. If I don't want to go crazy, I'll have to submit myself to humiliating premature ejaculation with women again and again. A witch teaches you a little lesson in selflessness.