Ally’s Sexual Wellness Part I [F][Edging]

*The protagonist of the story, Ally, is based on and inspired by the beautiful u/ServiceGreedy7879. She was involved in writing it. She loved it, edged while reading it, and approved it’s final form. We have 2 parts so far but we have been talking about ideas for at least a third, maybe more. Please let us know what you think.*

The fact is..I liked living alone. I liked having my own space and freedom. This doesn’t mean I never got lonely. I did sometimes, especially when i wasn’t *seeing* anyone. But I had plenty of hobbies to fill that time. They helped keep any depressive thoughts at bay. My favorite was hiking in summer and skiing in winter. I also had a blog. Nothing really all that popular, few instagram pictures from my hikes, cute dresses I tried on and couldn’t afford, recipes for meals and shakes that I made, some short stories. It started with a few friends but I was up to 14,000 followers and even got a few ad deals.

The wide appeal of the blog came from the fact that whatever hobby I took on, I let it consume me. When i started skiing I did nothing else for years until I was able to ski a black diamond slope. When I decided to take on crocheting, I made blankets and sold them on Etsy. When I set my sights on something, I threw myself in it. I think that appealed to my followers. And for the most part, I really enjoyed the process of mastering something. Maybe a little too much at times. One thing did bother me a little about my blogging and that was that I had to keep it PG-rated and wholesome. Not that I was all that debaucherous to start with, but the restraint of my public persona made me have to be. So when a friend told me about her online gambling habit. It peaked my interest. It was surprisingly easy to learn the games but the randomness and luck element didn’t appeal to me. The thought that I couldn’t *master* this hobby with effort and skill alone and having to rely on chance really made me loss interest quickly.

Right around that time is when I connected with Camilla on instagram. She was another “influencer”. Except she was the real deal, or at least realer than me. She had 53,000 followers and she was leaving her job to do it full time. The idea sounded surreal to me, brave but also foolish. But she was making “real money” she said. She catered to the new mom, and stay at home mom population. She said there is a lot of money in that group. Her focus was on meal-prep stuff, mom-wellness, body-positivity and easy at home workouts. It wasn’t until a few weeks after we started talking that she told me that she doesn’t even have a kid. I was taken aback a little. It felt fake, like she was cheating, very debaucherous. It made me like her a little more. Our friendship became stronger after.

A few weeks later I opened up to her about how conflicted I felt during a FaceTime call. I guess the problem was bigger than I though because as soon as I started to tell her, I couldn’t hold back. I trusted her because she told me her secret so I told her mine: I hated the sanitized picture of me that I was projecting.

“Well what do you like to do for pleasure?” she asked. I started listing the hobbies I was looking into at the time. “No, No, No. That’s not what I mean.” She interrupted. “I mean for personal pleasure. You are not dating anyone, right?” We had been talking for about 2-3 months at that point so I suppose we were familiar enough to talk about this. But the answer was nothing.

She was surprised at first. Her mom-fluencer voice was coming out. It annoyed me a little but I moved past it. She paused for a few seconds. “Ok, I am going to trust you with something but you have to promise me not to tell anyone.” Her face shone on camera everytime. She was gorgeous. She had dark black hair and kind hazel eyes. Every time I saw her on Facetime, it took my breathe away a little. This time, however, she was looking a little timid.

She walked over to her room and opened the bottom drawer of her dresser. At first she pulled our a long wire and at the end of it was a wand with, what I assumed was, a vibrating head. “This is my favorite toy. You have to get one. Trust me, it will change your life.” I became a little uncomfortable with the conversation. But it also peaked my interest. She sang the wand’s praises for a few seconds and then said “but wait, there is more” sarcastically in a Billy Mays voice. She is funny. She then pulled out a glass dildo. I guess we were going on a narrated tour of her sex toys. After the glass dildo came a blue plastic or silicone dildo that had rings on it. Then a smaller, skin-colored anatomically correct dildo “this one was getting too small” she chuckled. She then pulled out 2 beige things that she called “nipple suckers”, another clitoral toy with a brown handle and 2 butt plugs. My eyes widened at the plugs. Their shape was unmistakable. I couldn’t help but act like a chuckling middle school girl for the rest of our conversation.

Eight or nine days later, a package arrived at my house from Camilla. I opened it and it was a wand similar to Camilla’s with a bottle of lube and a sweet note attached about taking care of myself. She was kind, those things weren’t cheap. I had looked the wand up out of curiosity (using incognito mode). Later that night I decided to use it the way she told me to. Not much happened that first night. After 45 minutes I got frustrated and quit. The next evening I told Camilla. “What were you watching?” she asked.

“Watching?” this wasn’t my introduction to porn or anything but I can’t say that I was a regular consumer either. I had heard all the horror stories about the seediness and vile practices in the industry so I certainly wasn’t a fan. Camilla however said that there was a way to ethically consume porn that comes straight from content creators just like us. “I know about OnlyFans, Cammy”. But apparently there was way more out there than OnlyFans.

“Here is what you are going to do, drink a glass of wine. Just one. Take a nice warm shower, light a few candles.” I laughed, sitcom much? “Just listen to me Ally, you won’t regret it.” I listened. “Lotionize and moisturize and do your nightly routine then read this.” She sent me a link. “It is a nice story to get you in the mood.”

I did exactly what she said. The story was phenomenal. It was about a a girl that met a guy on vacation. It was very erotic. Very sensual. The words jumped out of the page. When it was done, I wanted more. I tried to search the author but the site wasn’t easy to navigate.. or maybe my head was spinning a little. I picked the next story. At the same time, I grabbed the wand. This story was about a girl who just moved to New York City and was falling in her love with her female roommate. Half way through I heard a quiet moan and realized it coming from me. The vibrations felt like they were echoing through my core to the back of my throat. I tried to go back to the story but I had dropped my phone in the folds of my comforter and couldn’t find it. I tried to reposition myself to look but i felt weak. When I shifted my pelvis, the head of the wand moved down on my vagina just a tad and I felt the vibrations intensify. I had accidentally turned it up. My breathing became shallow, quick and interrupted. I heard myself moan again and felt repeated escalating waves of pleasure wash over me with increasing frequency.

I am not sure how long it took me to start breathing again but when I started to, I felt a little faint. The room was spinning and I was sweating. I was breathing like i had just been running and a felt a similar rush of endorphins.

Unaware, I fell asleep, naked and sweaty, a couple hours later I woke up cold. I rolled on the bed and crawled under the cover. I heard a thud as the phone fell on the ground I picked it up. It was 12:30 am. I knew I had to get up for work the next day at 6 am. I unlocked my phone and it opened to the story again. I hadn’t finished it. I was curious to see how it ended. Of course it ended in the roommates having sex but I wanted to know how. I picked it back up. A few sentences in I felt my hand make its way down to my clit. In my mind, I imagined the protagonists roommate to look like Cammy. The roommate was a little older, more experienced and drove the events of the story. That’s what Camilla did for me. My wet fingers didn’t do as good or efficient a job as the wand but I was too focused on the story to grab it. I moaned again. It echoed in the room without the constant buzz of the wand. Hearing my moan grounded me. I looked at the time. It was 12:45 now. I scrolled down, the story went on. “I have to sleep” I put down the phone, put on my panties and shirt, crawled back under the cover and fell into an shallow interrupted sleep.

…

The next day was awful. I couldn’t focus on work. I was tired and sleep deprived. I felt irritable and hungry and I kept trying to rub my bottom down into my chair at work to alleviate some itch that I felt deep inside me. On my way home, I called Camilla. I told her what had happened. “I know what went wrong. You are edged.”

“What? What’s that?”

Her sigh came through the car Bluetooth speakers. “If masturbation is a sprint, edging is a marathon.”

“I don’t think that makes as much sense as you think it does.” She laughed uproariously at that comment. She then went on to explain it to me. Apparently, edging is masturbating up until the point right before you orgasm, then stopping and starting up again. It sounded counter-intuitive to me. “Why not just orgasm and start again after you are done?” I asked. Camilla said that it is not that simple. She said that with edging the pleasure is more sustained, and heightened. She said the longer you went, the higher that climax got and the longer you can go for. “Longer? how long can you go?” I asked.

“Hours…” she paused. “Days.”

“Days?” In disbelief. “Do you do this?”

She hesitated. “Not really… once or twice but not regularly” I didn’t know what to say. I had arrived at my house but stayed in my parked car. “It’s not as bad as you think. It actually feels very very nice… You are not saying anything and it is making me kind of nervous. You totally think I am a sex freak now, don’t you?” I apologized. I didn’t mean to do that. I was just surprised but not disgusted. If anything, I felt intimidated. She was so much more experienced than I was.

We kept talking. I stayed in the car and listened. I asked her what she did during those days of *edging*. “It is not like I watch porn for the entire 24 hours. You take breaks. You cook, you clean, you shower, post, go on with your life. Then you come back, ride your wand and edge for 20, 30 minutes, an hour even, and then take another break.”

“So you just have that wand readily within reach, ha?”

“Sometimes it’s the wand, sometimes the lush, the dildo, even the plug.”

“What’s a lush?”

“It is a remote controlled toy that sits inside your pussy and vibrates at different frequencies and strengths.”

“I didn’t see that in my tour.”

There was silence… “It wasn’t in the drawer…”

“Oh… MY… God.. Camilla. Don’t tell me… IT WAS… IT WAS.. INSIDE YOU?” She said nothing. “IS IT INSIDE YOU RIGHT NOW?” I was yelling.

“Look, Ally, I am being really vulnerable and open with you right now. I have never really talked openly about this with anyone I knew in real life. I am telling you all this because I think I am trying to help and be open with you. I am speaking from a place of sexual wellness that took me a long time to find and I am sharing that part of me with you at the risk of you thinking I am a weirdo and losing you as a friend. I hope I don’t regret it.” She said those words slowly and I felt myself tearing up. She was sweet and I really liked her a lot. I reassured her that I didn’t think she was a weirdo at all. I was just intimidated. She knew so much more than me. I really was grateful for her. I loved having her in my life. When we ended the conversation I felt exhausted. I finally made it inside the house and went straight to sleep.

…

Camilla and I would talk a few more times about edging and porn. She shared links for erotic stories and even porn with me from that day on. But the journey was my own, she couldn’t hold my hand through it. For the next few days following our conversation I didn’t masturbate. I was scared for some reason. But it was all I could think about. I took the wand and threw it in back of the closet. Tried to forget. Then my period came and felt miserable. I did all the things I usually do to make myself feel better but none of them worked. Even after the bleeding stopped, the cramps didn’t let up.

It was a Friday afternoon and I decided to cook something hearty to make myself feel better. I found a recipe for pork tenderloin with a three berry salsa. I poured myself some wine, played some background jazz and started to cook, taking pictures and videos every step to post them later to my blog. It took much longer than than the recipe said it would take. And the cramps didn’t make it any easier. And at the end it tasted disgusting. I posted the pictures and the videos to insta and my blog with a catchy caption and hashtags. I left out the part where it tasted like socks. The likes started to come. Satisfied, I made my way to bed, 3rd glass of wine in hand.

Before I made it to the bed, I decided to change into my PJ’s. As the chilled air touched my naked body, I felt a tingle down my spine. The wine. Instead of getting dressed, I grabbed the wand from the back of the closet and walked over to the bed naked. I laid down and turned the wand to its lowest setting and let it rest lightly on my vagina. I covered myself for warmth.

While the wand tickled and teased me. I started to browse my phone. I started reading a story about a college kid who works in a hospital and meets a domineering head nurse who takes him to a motel room after a long shift at work and has passionate impersonal sex with him multiple times. It was a pretty good story. The author was very descriptive. I liked that the writing wasn’t nasty or vulgar. It was actually very gentle, sweet and erotic. The story certainly helped me get started.

After that, I turned to a link the Camilla sent me earlier. It was softcore porn of to two women masturbating together. They were sitting on a couch next to each other in a sunny yard. They were aware of each other’s presence but each one was focused on herself. It was quiet, serene and heavenly. Their soft moans barely came through on my phone speakers.

After a few minutes of the video, the girl on the left got up. The other girls looked up at her and smiled. I liked the intimacy between them, they looked at each other as if they knew they wanted each other. The first girl went off screen and the other girl went on playing with her vagina. It was so pretty. It occurred to me that I wanted to keep staring at it, wanting the camera to zoom in. She was waxed and her lips bounced gently against her fingers as she rubbed her clitoris. Her hips swayed ever so slightly back and forth as she angled her clitoris over her fingers and forced the fingers deeper in. Her feet were propped up on the couch, almost entirely within the frame of the video. She had petite cute feet with toenails painted pink. Everything about her was so sensual.

The camera had been zooming in and I only realized that when it started to zoom out again. The other girl came back into frame. She had two dildos in her hand, a pink and a red one. She gave the brown-haired girl the red one. The girl slightly snapped out of her stupor and grabbed it. They looked at each other longingly, she said, “thank you” and gave her a peck on the lips as she sat down. I felt myself on the edge. “You are welcome.” The other girl said back and with one finger brushed the flowing brown hair behind her ear. I felt that I was close to orgasm. I wanted to hold off. I wanted to wait. Then they kissed again. The girl who got up was now reaching with her right hand up. Her hand grazed passed the brown-haired girls breasts. They were small and perky. Her nipples, dark against her pale milky skin. Instead of grabbing her breasts however, her hand continued to glide up and she finally rested her palm on the brown-haired girls cheek. The touch was so tender and loving. A deep audible breath snuck out of me and I pushed the wand deeper and deeper against my clitoris. I felt my hips sway forward with the slope of my climax. I couldn’t hold it anymore. My finger, without my control, pushed the button to turn up the wand. As soon as I felt the increased intensity, there was no turning back, I screamed a loud “Oh fuck”. Brightness filled the world around me and I had to clench my eyes shut. My head jerked forward and then a my back arched backwards and it jerked my neck and head back with it. Another “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” I felt myself saying it but I only heard the words minutes later. When I was done orgasming, my hand felt wet.

After a few minutes of recuperation, I felt a little disappointed. Or least as disappointed as a woman who had just orgasmsed for possibly 4 or 5 minutes could feel. This edging thing wasn’t easy. Orgasming just feels too good. But I wasn’t a quitter. In fact, I decided that I would go again that same night. I got up and drank a glass of water. Surprisingly my cramps were gone. I almost forgot how bad they were all day and only remembered because I saw the bottle of ibuprofen on the counter near the sink.

I refilled my glass of wine and went straight back to the same position. This time, no wand. Just my fingers. I started again with another story. This time it was about a girl on a train alone at night after work and touching herself discreetly. It was very descriptive. Then I read another story, about a girl in Catholic school away from home learning to masturbate in the showers with the other girls around and so close. This story was in multiple parts. In the second part, she masturbated in her room with her roommate in the next bed over. I felt the need to orgasm again. I pulled my fingers back and focused on my breathing. I put down my phone and looked around the room for something to focus my sights on. I saw my reflection in the mirror across the room. I was lying in bed, my legs spread open. My hair was a mess resting on the pillow behind me. Beads of sweat made my skin glisten a little as it reflected light from the night light. It was a way I had never seen myself before. In control yet so desperate for pleasure. I was so naked and visible. My lips open.

After a few seconds I went back to the story. The roommate noticed. She caught her. The story ended with them talking about learning from each other. I think there was a part 3 coming but I couldn’t find it. I looked for more stories. The next one I found was about a woman who was married to a busy doctor who never paid much attention to her. He moved her around a lot and she couldn’t maintain any friendships. The entire first part of the story had no sex in it, just build up. I was kind of disappointed but I really felt connected to the character, Kelly. I liked her. She had my sympathy. I looked for part II and kept reading… then III. Kelly met a friend, Selena, a coworker. There was a sexual spark but it was subtle. The two professional, straight women tried not to acknowledge it. But their friendship grew overtime until one day a slip up forced them to face their mutual attraction. They had a fall out and parted ways as a result.

In part IV, Kelly leaves her husband. She had enough. She had no where to turn so she ran to Selena who welcomed her with open arms. I came close to the edge again. The love and affection that Selena showed Kelly was endearing. Without question she opened her door and let her in. She took care of her in her time of need. I edged and had to stop again. After a few minutes I started again. As Kelly decided to leave her negligent husband, they felt drawn to each other again. Their feelings had never waned. Finally Kelly makes a move to let Selena know she loves her. Their sex was tender and loving. I felt the edge coming on again. I was getting close. I pulled my fingers away again. Camilla would be so proud of me. I finished the story without touching myself. But an electric tingle still echoed in my vagina and clitoris. I could still my fingers rubbing long after I removed them.

Knowing that Kelly and Selena were together made me happy. It was getting late now, almost 2 am. I closed my eyes, the buzzing sensation in my vagina slowly fading. I drifted to an ethereal sleep.

…

I woke up at around noon the next day. I grabbed my phone… it was dead. I had used up a lot of battery last night. I plugged it in and got up to shower. I was already naked. Jumping into the shower felt nice. I had been sweating and the water was the perfect temp so wash off my sweat and make me feel refreshed. I poured in soap my hand and started to lather myself. I wasn’t thinking about much. My mind felt perfectly blank and empty.

I had planned to go on a hike that day. The weather was still nice and I had to take advantage before the December snowless freeze took hold. I felt a catch in my breath and a tingle that surprised me. I had been washing my skin with soap and grazed my forearm across my left nipple. This was new. They have never been really all that sensitive. I reached up and intentionally grabbed my nipple but nothing happened. I felt nothing. I went back to washing up. A few minutes later, the same tingle happened again. I reached down and touched my vagina gently and as soon as I felt my fingers touch the skin of my labia, an extreme rush of pleasure washed over me. Without hesitation, I went back to touching myself. Soapy water washing over me as waves of pleasure washed up from my toes to my core. My mind tracked back to Kelly and Serena. My moan echoed in the ceramic bathroom. My legs were getting weak. I kept touching myself until I felt the edge of my climax. I stopped, and opened my eyes to an amazed pleasure. Edging was an immense unceasing pleasure and I was finally grasping it. I climbed out of the shower, and hurriedly dried my skin without getting dressed.

I wanted to edge more but I was faint and hungry. Naked, I went to the kitchen and decided to make a sandwich. I played with my clit for a minute as the bread toasted. I made a quick turkey sandwich and went back to edging. When I went back, my phone had finally been changed. Luckily I hadn’t navigated away from the story. I bookmarked the page. No hiking today. This was fun. I moved on to another multi-part story by the same author. This one was about a male college sophomore who was falling in love with an older classmate who was a married woman. He was conflicted about his love for her. She was married. He decided to pull away. I cried. I cried as I was edging. My emotions felt heightened and intense. I read on as they met years later and he finally confessed his love for her. He was older now and more assertive. She pretended to say it was one sided. He didn’t believer her. They argued passionately until they finally kissed. At the end of that story, i felt the edge coming. I put down the phone, closed my eyes, grabbed my wand and decided it was time to orgasm. As soon as the wand touched my clitoris, i felt my soul pulled out of my body and dragged violently up to the ceiling. I screamed. I knew I was loud. I turned over in my bed and buried my face in my pillow. The muffled screams ringing in my ear as if coming from a different person.

Turned over, I was able to leverage the wand against my bed and dig it deeper into my vagina. I turned the wand down a notch. I couldn’t handle it. I was feeling dizzy. I was short of breath. But none of those things mattered as my body pulsated with the strength of the climax of my orgasm. It was everlasting, all consuming. I didn’t know when and how it started. But I was sure I never wanted it to end. It was an orchestra that reverberated my soul with every note. I couldn’t remember a time when I wasn’t orgasming. I didn’t want to ever not be orgasming. I wanted to stay in this exact moment for the rest of my life. Whether for a millions years, an hour or a months. I didn’t want it to stop.

When I was done, my throat felt dry and parched. I wanted to get up and drink but I had no tone in my muscles. My arms and legs flopped down. I was barely able to turn my neck and pull my face out of the pillow and breath air into my lungs after screaming in to my pillow for 10 minutes of pleasure. I closed my eyes and drifted for a few minutes.

The cold woke me up and I rolled off the bed and grabbed a bottle of water from my fridge. It was refreshing. I went back to my room and slowly got dressed with some difficulty. My clothes felt heavier in my weak hands. I saw myself in the mirror again and I looked like a mess. My shirt was on backwards. I walked over to a chair I had in the corner of the room and sat down. I looked for my phone but it was thrown somewhere on the bed. I forced myself up and grabbed it and fell back on the bed.

I unlocked it and called… rang a few times and the tone was loud and shrill in my ear. “Hello” the voice was softer, but felt like it was coming from a different era. I responded “Hi, Cammy…”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uqb35v/allys_sexual_wellness_part_i_fedging