MS, The Double Edged Sword [M]

First post here, hopefully I’m doing this right! An account from the weekend.

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With a deep shuddering growl, I reluctantly unwrapped my slick, lube and juice covered hand from the swollen, throbbing shaft that currently had a mind of its own. Another unintentional edge. Cock twitching of its own accord, I played with the sticky fluids and moved my fingers to watch it web between them. Now if only I had a good, eager toy here to clean me between edges.

The latest flare up of my MS symptoms has made edging incredibly easy, but also infuriatingly unpredictable. I don’t know if that makes it all the more exciting, or frustrating when I finally decide to bring the edging to a nice, very messy, very loud, conclusion. The dulling of sensations has been a blessing and a curse. It has made for some of the best, longest edging sessions I’ve ever had. I almost crave the days where my sense of feel is dulled, knowing that I have a delicious evening ahead of myself…or morning….or afternoon. Really anytime my bodies decides it wants to fuck something.

As frustrating as it can be when I do decide to end the session…the full body sensation that I get when I do find just the right spot, is something I wouldn’t trade away. The body spasms. The reflexive moans and deep sighs and groans. The hungry growls. The thick, sticky ropes of cum. Only lacking a good girl that won’t let it go to waste.

Putting my phone down and replacing it with a glass of scotch, draining the rest of the glass, tensing my jaw as the burn worked its way down my throat. I looked down at my body. Green and black plaid button up shirt open and fallen to the side. Belt undone and pants pushed down around my thighs. My insatiable cock still as hard as when I started. Twitching occasionally as I shift in my chair, as if desperate for more attention.

I placed the glass back on the side table and took up the cigar that was left well forgotten, pleased it at least still remained lit. Taking a healthy draw, holding the smoke in my mouth for a moment before letting it stream from my nose in shudder, shivering breaths as my hand caressed along the bottom of my cock.

Leaning back into the welcoming leather cushions, I slowly started to tease the pink, eager head of my cock. Fingers playing with the frenulum while my slippery thumb rolled back and forth over the tip. Sighing deeply and giving an involuntary shiver, precum in no short supply as I mixed in my juices with the lube. I always enjoy using my own natural lube. I’m sure there is hardly any difference…but playing with your own juices is just…more arousing. If that is possible in my current state.

As I drew another long puff, I started to wrap my fingers around myself. Lightly touching and starting to slowly slide my hand up and down the length of my cock. Head tilting back, a long stream of smoke streaming out as I exhaled out a strained growl. Eyes closing as lose myself in the sensation of my straining dick, yearning for the feel of…more. Anything as long as it is more. Tightening my hand a bit and stroking with a bit more purpose, I start to breath quicker. Groans coming quicker. Brain conjuring images of a nice little helper on her knees between mine. That my hand is her hands and mouth. Stroking me. Worshipping me. Eager to help me tip over the edge of that cliff into a world of bliss and ecstasy.

Legs shifting and thrashing, fighting to get these pants the rest of the way off, I kicked them a few feet away in frustration as I continue fucking myself. Pumping my hand slightly faster as I go back to my mental images and fantasies. How I would love to have a good little slut here with me. To sit in my lap. Edging each other to eventually give in to the other. Brain fried with hormones and the singular need to orgasm. Ravaging each others bodies until both are spent. Cum covered, filled, and dripping.

And with the thought of being deep inside of a soaking wet pussy, I hadn’t realized how close I had gotten until it was too late. That familiar feeling of orgasm pushing past the point of stopping. The only thing left to do is keep going. Knowing I’m about to orgasm, I stroke myself faster. Harder. Fingers tightening more. Growling loudly into the room as my orgasm crashes into my body, as if my body didn’t know it was coming. Shuddering violently as trickles of electricity ripple through my nerves. Thick ropes of cum erupting from the head of my cock, some splattering all over my chest and stomach, and most falling on my thighs and coating my fist.

Gasping for breath, my mouth hangs open as it comes in snatches. Head thrown back over the back of the chair. Slowly relinquishing my hand from my cock, I again marvelled at the mess I made, playing with my cum, watching the silky sticky cum stick to my fingers as I stretched my fingers out. Looking down to see my cock still mostly erect. Glistening in the low light of the fire place. Balls aching, but in that delightfully sore ache of having worked out and are feeling amazing, feeling drained. Speaking of feeling amazing, I don’t both to clean myself up and keep myself in my chair, letting myself catch my breath a bit more as I turn my attention back to my drink and smoke, hoping for another day of a lack of sensation.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/119b3qf/ms_the_double_edged_sword_m

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