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 body decides it wants to fuck something.