The Edge of Glory

The longer I’m denied orgasm, the faster I seem to get to the edge. Lately, it’s been happening quite quickly. Usually, it takes a fair bit of work to get me there, but now it happens almost instantaneously (almost).

The edge is the reason I don’t want to come. People ask me why I’m so determined not to have an orgasm. Apart from the obvious power exchange, which is no small part of my desire (not being allowed an orgasm is different than just not having one), being so close to orgasm and being held there is one of the most excruciatingly erotic places to be. It drives my passion. When Tripp gets me there and holds me there, I’m driven to a frenzy of desire. I lose inhibitions. It’s like being drunk without the hangover. My entire body quakes when he touches me. Every nerve ending is on fire. Every touch sends electricity through me. Imagine how you feel just before you climax, and then imagine having that feeling last and last, always just about there, but not getting to the finish line. It’s so much easier getting to that point when I’m denied.

There are four stages of the sexual response cycle: desire, arousal, orgasm, and resolution. I’m in a constant state of desire and arousal. Don’t get me wrong, I like orgasms. I spent a good part of my life getting them from others or giving them to myself. However, when that brief moment of pleasure passes, the resolution stage sets in quickly. I lose the arousal. When I come, everything that felt so amazing suddenly feels too much. My body has a hard reset to baseline. I don’t want to be touched or kissed for a while. It’s like everything resets to zero. For me, the momentary pleasure of orgasm is not worth the loss of desire and arousal that happens when I come. But the longer that orgasm is denied, the more the arousal and desire increases. @taomlin calls it a constant simmering. I think of it as simmering with intermittent near boils. I’m held just at the point where I could boil over any moment, over and over again. It’s more a whole body orgasm than a penile one. I’m left a sweaty quivering mass of jello, but I’m ready to do it all over again at any time.

The kink aspect can’t be denied. I’m constantly aware of my ache. My caged cock is hard almost all of the time. My libido increases dramatically. I have the same visceral response as I do to leather and boots and all my other fetishes. It makes me want to touch and be touched, to kiss and cuddle, to be fucked, to be hurt and roughed up. It doesn’t make me want to mow the lawn or clean the house or anything mundane like that. Being denied doesn’t turn me into a chore boy. It turns me into a constantly horny teenager, and when Tripp tells me I’m not going to come, it makes me climb the walls. It satisfies my need for power exchange, dirty talk, and kink. Telling me I’m staying locked, telling me I’m not going to come, telling me what he’s going to do to me all set my imagination running wild and makes me hard. It’s the best porn ever. More than not having an orgasm, I am turned on by not being allowed one. The longer I’m denied, the more powerful this becomes. I can drop into sub space almost immediately.

I need kink. Being locked and denied is a constant reminder that I am, in fact, very kinky. I don’t like vanilla. Oh, it can be pleasant, but it does not turn me on and it does not satisfy me. It never has. I’ve been kinky since I was a child. My first orgasm happened from self bondage, not self stimulation. I’m sure there will be orgasms in my future, and I’m hoping that when they are given to me, they are after I’ve been held on the edge until I beg for it.


Published by Locked Doc

Middle aged switch reclaiming his kink and exploring Bdsm with both his husband and his Master. Always locked.

One thought on “The Edge of Glory

  1. But the longer that orgasm is denied, the more the arousal and desire increases. @taomlin calls it a constant simmering. I think of it as simmering with intermittent near boils.

    Well, when Mrs Edge and I are in bed, yes, there’s a lot of boiling. 😉

    But the “simmering” was meant to describe how I feel almost every day, usually from morning until the first moron at work screws something up. But it comes back.

    Liked by 1 person

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