He sent me a picture of it once – swollen, bright red, and leaking a fat, shiny drop of pre-come. Skin so taut I could tell he’d been edging, even if he hadn’t told me. Seven days’ worth, if I remember correctly. Seven days of edging – touching it, stroking it, playing gently enough that he wouldn’t quite climax. Until the whole thing ached and he had to go to extreme lengths to get settled down before he had to leave the house. Digging fingernails into his thighs, cold water, that kind of thing…
I can’t edge, because I’m impatient. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy edging. Because whatever it’s like for the person I’m sleeping with, for me it’s the build up to a smoking hot gift. The best thing, to me, about the edge, is that moment when I watch you tip over it.
Edging – bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm before stopping – holds the same delicious fascination for me as the sex I had when I was younger. For me, it captures the same kind of pleading desperation that I used to see in the eyes of boys I was horny for. The first touches and eager, ginger steps towards second and third base. I’m nostalgic for it, because it’s so rare in cynical adults: we rush towards sex knowing that it’s inevitable. There’s often no reason to hold back, so we don’t. Like a meal you eat out of politeness rather than need, it doesn’t taste as good as the one you have when you’re starving.
I’ve had a lot of sex that comes on the brink of this desperation: sex after a dry spell, or with someone I’ve spent weeks – months – lusting after. Sex I shouldn’t have because one or other of us isn’t allowed to. I’m not saying these fucks are better – I’m saying they have a different quality. They’re less likely to be had with a grin and a giggle, more likely to be had in dark, furtive corners with no bed, no chatter, and biting, urgent kisses.
For me edging does the same thing. I don’t edge, but I like to fuck guys who have. I like to say “hey baby don’t come this week – touch it but don’t come. I’ll be home on Saturday.” I love it when he leaps up from the sofa and runs to the door to greet me, and – before I’ve shed my backpack and souvenirs – grinds his rigid cock into my hip.
Edging for sensation
While I’ll selfishly enjoy edging for what it does for me, apparently it can be awesome for the person doing it too. Recently I interviewed a gent – Ian – for an article on the Lent sex challenge, who told me he’s trying for a 40-day edge. No orgasm for 40 days – only near-orgasm. He explained how it was when he set his previous 25-day record:
“When I edge for a more than few days my sexuality comes to the fore my skin practically tingles almost to the point I imagine others may be able to see it. It doesn’t change how I act, for the most part, though I do perceive myself as being a little more confident though it’s hard to gauge how much this is a result of how one’s mood waxes and wains generally … More interesting about half way through the 25 days my desire completely fell off a cliff, I don’t think my hands even ventured reflexively past my waist for several days. I was surprised by this but not too worried as I still felt pretty good though the sexual fizz had gone. Then almost as swiftly as the urge had subsided so it returned. Then I was fighting my desire to make my self imposed goal against my more animalistic desire to tip myself into climax.”
To my most pressing curiosity, now: the long-anticipated orgasm.
“My orgasm on that 25th day certainly spoke volumes of my anticipation, both literally and figuratively. To be slightly indelicate, considerably more seed was spilled than usual and rather than the usual pleasurable warmth in the groin I felt the tingling spreading to the very extremities of my body.”
Coming after edging
I’ll admit it: the main reason I love guys edging is the climax at the end. Ian’s challenge is intriguing because it is as much about the journey: a trans-Siberian railway trip of sexual discovery, rather than a rushed attempt to reach the destination.
Perhaps if I had the patience to do it I’d wake up to the delights of balancing precariously at that moment myself. The warm, full, tingling sensation just before you let the waves of orgasm break. The restraint to hold back and freeze time, breathe deeply and calm myself down, only to start the whole thing over later – a little quicker this time, a little more urgent, yet still unfulfilled.
But for now I’ll stick to my favourite – being with someone during the moment a long edge ends. Whether with a fuck so quick and hard that the rush of orgasm takes them by rough surprise, or by a gentle, beckoning finger sending jolts of pleasure through their prostate. Or even the lightest flick of a tongue on the underside of his swollen cock, drawing a few last gasps of resistance to his lips, before enveloping the whole of his dick in my mouth and feeling hot, rich spunk pour down my greedy throat.
Perhaps my favourite way is with hands. Licking the tips of my fingers and running them gently around the rim of the tip of his dick. Seeing his taut, desperate face as I tempt him right up to the edge, then – with one quick movement – push him head-first over it.
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10 Comments
Some really inspiring ideas in this post. Edging is delicious.
Hmmm. Never actually thought about edging. It’s something I would definitely try out with my man.
I have the same issue – a lack of self-control – as you, GotN, but the same name as this guy. 25 days just wouldn’t happen. But yes, edging is fantastic fun, in the gritting teeth, growing, digging fingernails into palms kind of way.
Fortunately, my partner has a cure for my lack of self-control. It involves a chastity device and a padlock. And an exceptionally wicked streak on her part.
Maybe a guest post you’d be interested in at some point?
Did you ask, GOTN, how your interviewee Ian felt after the comedown from his orgasm? I have tried similar things and got to a similar sort of timeframe, only to find that in the end what I wanted when instructed to come was that I didn’t want to — I wanted the edging to go on. It seemed *almost* like a waste as the orgasm would mean going all the way back to the beginning again…
I would say, however, that that *almost* is the vital bit… Orgasms after a good period of abstention are awesome!
First, I had no idea this had a name. Second, now that it has a name, I feel much better about the fact that I do this all the time. Due to the nature of my relationship with my man, there are often long periods of time between encounters (usually weeks), and I’m not really a huge fan of masturbation. Not nearly as satisfying for me as a good fuck. When we talk about my growing need, he often asks if I’m going to do anything about it. I usually just say no, that I’m going to live with the frustration. I really am “living” with it. Desire coming in waves, always taking a long time to come back down, By the time I see him again, I can barely breathe with anticipation. I’m quite certain he doesn’t understand my refusal to just go take care of it, but I love it.
One thing about edging that certainly surprised me, blue balls are not a myth! Given the colloquial nature of the term and lack of a precise definition, I’ll just say radiating dull ache from the groin. Can be surpringly uncomfortable for a while, but an edge is still definitely worth it despite this. However, that’s my view and definitely not advice to ignore discomfort, seek out a medical professional for that.
Also, inspired by GOTN’s suggestion, ending an edge with prostate stimulation… *adds to must try list!*
Like Properly Handled, I was in a relationship which entailed long periods of separation, straddled by sharing of erotic writing & images. Often, I would find myself undertaking periods of edging…
…the one aspect I’d add to your final paragraph, GotN – if you like your lover to cum on your face – & my lover was *very* hot for that – then the post-edging orgasm is even more special – for, as it were, the “coverage”.
I’ve tried edging for a short period of time (like, a few hours), but I have to say I don’t really get how the long-term orgasm denial works. Maybe it’s just me, but I pretty much need to ejaculate about every 5-7 days – if I don’t, I’ll just come in my sleep and have a wet dream. Frankly, conscious orgasms are better.
Respect to the guys who can somehow hold it off for weeks at a time though, it sounds amazing!
I appreciate this article and the points-of-view of some of the comments.
It’s called “peaking” in Taoist and Tantric circles. Study-up on some of those practices, it will help with blue-balls, etc.. Ejaculation and orgasm don’t necessarily always go together and can be teased apart with practice. Learning easy techniques to handle the build-up of erotic energy helps create extra get-up-and-go in everyday life experiences, too.
I can really feel the difference during intercourse, when my lover has been practicing, because it allows me to have multiple vaginal orgasms (he lasts a lot longer) and he feels perceptively larger, especially in the head region, because of the build-up of blood and nitric oxide. This does wonders for my G-area!
I’ve only really edged for days for one girl. She was so appreciative of my come on her face or in her mouth that when she asked me to save it all for her I couldn’t say no. I did make sure she didn’t waste a single drop.