The Beauty of an Edge
Posted 11-08-2020 at 03:22 AM by AnalAddict
Tags denial, edge, pleasure, submissive
For Dungeonmaster. Just so you understand exactly what your denied slut feels when you drive her to the edge.
It’s been a mere 65 hours since my last orgasm. Nothing in the grand scheme of all these courageous getDarians who live months of denial. And still, when Dungeonmaster was driving me wild with edges this morning before I got even out of bed, I experienced yet another first—the slow-building perfection of an edge. I thought I’d share what it felt like.
Imagine a state where your arousal is constant, like little flames licking at your insides, no matter how mundane the tasks you’re doing. One wrong (or right ) move and the fire roars to life, turning you to jelly, a squirming mess of need and desperation. That’s been exactly what I’ve been feeling since Tuesday. And yes, I did have a MASSIVE orgasm on Thursday, but somehow it never extinguished the flames. The pleasure resulting from days of teasing and touching and edging was too great to fade.
Enter an amazing Dom who knows EXACTLY how to drive me wild. One word and I’m squirming. One order to edge after he’s built me up, and I’m cresting within minutes, seconds sometimes. I got to wake up in the most perfect way this morning, being teased and edged into a frenzy until my body was on fire. And it was the simplest edge that did this to me while I was shivering and circling my clit and liquid with desire.
The pleasure spiralled around the point where I touched. Not quite centered, just a lazy swirl of lust that filled my entire lower body. I was going slow, trying to capture all of it, every little sensation that had my nerve endings alive. With every slow movement, the pleasure tightened, the spiral narrowing and focusing around my clit. A little like clenching your pussy, that burst of tightness, but it happened while I was fully relaxed. Then every string of my being started tightening. As if that spiral had fallen apart in little threads of pleasure that spanned my lower body. Every slow touch pulled a little more on those strings until they were vibrating with the bliss of it all. And then my entire body was cut loose. One more touch and I would have fallen apart, shattered without the strings to hold me together.
And that was the beauty of an edge. The absolute perfection of pleasure suspended.
Thank you, Sir.
It’s been a mere 65 hours since my last orgasm. Nothing in the grand scheme of all these courageous getDarians who live months of denial. And still, when Dungeonmaster was driving me wild with edges this morning before I got even out of bed, I experienced yet another first—the slow-building perfection of an edge. I thought I’d share what it felt like.
Imagine a state where your arousal is constant, like little flames licking at your insides, no matter how mundane the tasks you’re doing. One wrong (or right ) move and the fire roars to life, turning you to jelly, a squirming mess of need and desperation. That’s been exactly what I’ve been feeling since Tuesday. And yes, I did have a MASSIVE orgasm on Thursday, but somehow it never extinguished the flames. The pleasure resulting from days of teasing and touching and edging was too great to fade.
Enter an amazing Dom who knows EXACTLY how to drive me wild. One word and I’m squirming. One order to edge after he’s built me up, and I’m cresting within minutes, seconds sometimes. I got to wake up in the most perfect way this morning, being teased and edged into a frenzy until my body was on fire. And it was the simplest edge that did this to me while I was shivering and circling my clit and liquid with desire.
The pleasure spiralled around the point where I touched. Not quite centered, just a lazy swirl of lust that filled my entire lower body. I was going slow, trying to capture all of it, every little sensation that had my nerve endings alive. With every slow movement, the pleasure tightened, the spiral narrowing and focusing around my clit. A little like clenching your pussy, that burst of tightness, but it happened while I was fully relaxed. Then every string of my being started tightening. As if that spiral had fallen apart in little threads of pleasure that spanned my lower body. Every slow touch pulled a little more on those strings until they were vibrating with the bliss of it all. And then my entire body was cut loose. One more touch and I would have fallen apart, shattered without the strings to hold me together.
And that was the beauty of an edge. The absolute perfection of pleasure suspended.
Thank you, Sir.
Total Comments 2
Comments
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Posted 11-10-2020 at 02:18 PM by Bdsub -
Posted 11-10-2020 at 03:23 PM by AnalAddict