I fucking love being a pathetic edge addict

I fucking love being a pathetic edger. I'm a total prejac loser who can't last. If I didn't edge, I'd blow my load in under a minute, spurting my worthless cum everywhere like the failure I am. But edging is my religion now. Denying that release, teasing my throbbing cock right to the brink over and over. it's pure agony, bliss that rewires your pathetic brain.



Look at what it's done to me. My mind's permanently horny, every thought dripping with filth. I wake up leaking precum, my sheets soaked before I even touch myself. My cock? It's transformed. Swollen fuller than ever, veins bulging, head purple and shiny from endless stroking without mercy. Erections hit like steel rods now, bigger, harder, lasting hours instead of seconds. I edge for days, watching it twitch and beg, denying that sweet explosion.



And my balls are swollen orbs of ache, heavy and churning with backed up seed. They throb constantly, that deep, blue balled pressure that's better than any nut. I cup them while I stroke slow, feeling them pulse, leak turning into rivers down my shaft. Precum oozes non stop every heartbeat pumps more out, slicking my hand, my thighs, my mind into a gooner's haze.



I'd be perfectly happy locked in this forever, never cumming again.