I get this sensation when I’ve been aroused for a long time. It’s very specific. I don’t get it at any other time.
It’s an irregular twitch just behind my balls. An echo of the onset you feel as you cross the point of no return. I just keep gently, silently, invisibly keep twitching away, needing the release more and more. At least, I think it’s invisible. I hope it is!
The longer I edge, the stronger it gets. Twitch, twitch, need, need. And the more I leak. Each time I get hard and don’t finish I leak as the hardness leaves. But as the edging goes on longer, the leaking happens when I’m hard, too. And the hardness diminishes less and less, so I end up with a permanent state of arousal, the sensitivity of it maintaining me as I walk, sit, move.
The longer that goes on, the less I can think coherently, the more distracted I become. And the more I ache. The ache, oh the ache! It’s a physical ache that begins to perfuse my whole body, all my thoughts, my need and my whole being yearns for the person I’m edging for. The same ache you get just before you come, the stronger it gets, the more imminent the coming, the more everything becomes focussed on it.
When finally I decide it’s been long enough and I finish, the release is that much stronger, more powerful, more productive, more consuming… Better.
The more times I’ve been brought to the edge, whether it’s by myself, or by the hand of another (or indeed any other soft, caressing part of another)… The quicker I’m ready, the greater the sensation of arousal.
I like to be in control. I think that’s been established. Orgasm is the only time I’m out of control, the only time I’m lost in the moment, thought and reason chased away, replaced by sensation, emotion. The world gone, just that time, that girl. Powerful orgasm, such as the ones I get after edging are something I can only fully appreciate when I’m with someone I know I can trust completely. So to find someone for whom I know I can edge before I see them, or who I can instruct to edge me is a rare delight. A girl who can be that moment, that sensation, that emotion, that everything.
I started trying to describe edging ages ago. It’s taken me a long time, now I can’t work out the best way of finish. Which is appropriate, because when I’ve edged, my mind is so consumed by the need to come, I can never decide how I want to.
© Charles Rochester 2015