Woke up to last night's edge

My eyes opened to a sensory overload that hit me like a freight train. The last thing I remember is my hand wrapped around my throbbing cock, stroking myself into oblivion before passing out. Now I'm drowning in filth.



My laptop screen is glowing, displaying a depraved gangbang scene where a woman is taking it from all angles. The moans and slaps are echoing through my room, mixing with the hypnotic binaural beats pulsing through my headphones. "Good boy. Obey. Stroke. Edge." The voice is whispering directly into my brain.



My body is a mess of lust. My cock stands at full attention, angry and purple, the veins bulging along its length. A thick pool of precum is soaking through my boxers and onto the sheets beneath me, creating a sticky mess that glues my skin to the fabric. My balls feel like lead weights, swollen and heavy, churning with cum that I'm refusing to release.



The smell hits me next, that unmistakable musk of male arousal, sweat, and dried precum. My room reeks of days of uninterrupted masturbation, the air thick with the scent of my own depravity. I can taste it on my tongue, salty and bitter.



I reach down and wrap my fingers around my shaft, feeling how slick it is with precum. The sensitivity is overwhelming, every touch sends electric shocks through my body. I start stroking slowly, deliberately, matching the rhythm of the hypnotic commands in my ears.



Today is going to be pure torture. I'm going to keep myself on this knife's edge of orgasm for hours, riding the wave of pleasure without ever cresting. My balls ache, my cock throbs, and my mind is melting into nothing but goon and obedience. The precum flows endlessly, marking me as the pathetic edging slut I am.



And I wouldn't have it any other way.