Edging With My Dick

I got into edging almost by accident, while comparing cocks with Jimmy, my older brother. We had a lot to compare because our pricks were very different. He'd been circumcised at birth, and when my parents saw the pain it caused him after the surgery, they decided they would not have any other son cut. Jimmy would cry each time he wet his diaper, and the wound got infected and needed another operation to clean it up and re-stitch it. Jimmy's cock was longer than mine, about seven inches, and had a nice plum-shaped glans ahead of its thick brown scar. Mine was about six inches hard, with a long funnel-shaped foreskin covering my huge Darth Vader helmet. My glans is so bulky its outline bulges through the thick hood.

Once when I was wearing a tight bathing suit, a casual acquaintance told me he could tell I was circumcised. He was very surprised when I pulled the waist of my bathing suit out to give him a good look. Foreskins come in all shapes, as dicks do, and I'd seen many types from thin strips barely long enough to cover the rim to long-nippled funnels like mine. Even hard, my foreskin extended almost an inch beyond the end of my cock-head in a thick nipple, and this allowed Jim to slip his glans into my hood and enjoy a mutual jack-off with me. I enjoyed sharing my foreskin with Jim, and we'd been doing this even before we'd heard the word "docking." We didn't know what Jimmy's foreskin had been like.

It had been cut off in the delivery room right after he'd been born, before even our mother had seen it. Jim and I always tried to get the most out of sex, and trying new things to increase and to prolong our pleasure. We experimented with holding back our climaxes, and found that we could remain close to the point of no return for several minutes, enjoying the acute sensations before plunging into the moment of release. We did this while docking but more often separately, lightly stroking our lubricated cock-heads with our fingertips.

After Jim's death in a traffic accident when I was 25, I found another sex partner, Bob, whose prick, like mine, also had escaped the scalpel because his parents had been appalled at the results of their first son's circumcision. Bob had a nice thin foreskin covering his plump, rounded cock-head right to the end, forming a tight pucker. His erection also measured a little over six inches, but his foreskin would retract to bare his beautiful purple glans and he would jack himself by pulling his hood up over the head. All I had to do for a quick jack was jiggle my long foreskin, and soon white jets would sluice out the opening at the end. We both have big, sensitive tips, fully formed, with attractive flaring ridges.

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We'd noticed that lots of cut guys have smaller tips than we do, like little acorns sitting at the end of the shafts. We think that removing the protective foreskin makes the head dry out and shrivel up in some guys. Inevitably, Jim and I began docking and enjoying the wild sensations, especially when we timed our climaxes to happen at the same time. This wasn't hard, because we were both easily aroused, and when one of us came it would always trigger the other's orgasm.

Then we'd feel the warmth of each other's juice swirling around our cock-heads, heightening our sensations. We also experimented with the sensations of peeing inside my foreskin in the shower. We'd dock, and wash each other's prick-heads with our streams, watching the gush from under the end of my foreskin. When we began experimenting with edging, we always worked ourselves up by docking. Only when we were approaching release did we separate, to let us control our individual sensations better. Our cock-heads were now fully swollen, darker in color, and had lost their spongy feel. I'd slowly stroke my long foreskin back and forth, feeling my heavily lubricated helmet slosh around inside the thick, fleshy hood.

Bob would dip his finger into the steady flow of crystal-clear lube seeping from his slit and rub it in small circles around the orifice. He'd then work back along the top of the bare head to his rim, then into the groove behind it. He enjoyed running his finger around the groove, stroking the back of his ridge, then coming down underneath to the gee-string. We'd watch each other as we worked on our swollen pricks, because it doubled our pleasure to know that the other guy was feeling the same thing.

I'd see his slit dribbling lots of lubricant to keep his glans and fingers wet, and he'd watch me stroke my foreskin gently, as the pre-cum poured from the end of my nipple. We experimented with many strokes and techniques to keep ourselves at the brink without going over it. When Bob felt he was getting close and saw his glans swell in its final hardness as it deepened in color, he'd stroke only the top of the head, because it was less sensitive there. I often retracted my foreskin as I got close, so that I could watch my cock-head turn darker purple, and I'd stroke my heavily lubricated tip with one finger. I'd feel my helmet lose its sponginess as my excitement peaked, and knew that I'd have to be careful not to lose it right then.

I discovered that, with my prick, the best and safest way for edging was not to stroke it at all, because the slightest friction would eventually trigger my sensitive nerve endings. Instead, I pulled my foreskin back until it was stretched tightly along the shaft, creating a pleasant tension in the skin and my gee-string. Bob found this very easy to do with his prick, because he had less foreskin to stretch and it took only two fingers to apply a pleasant tension that stretched the nerve endings within his hood.

We'd watch each drop of lubricant part the lips of his long slit, then run down his glans. Once I had my hood skinned back, the lube would flow steadily from my teardrop shaped hole, running down the dark purple glans until it filled the deep groove behind it. Bob and I would approach the point of release, then back off to let our excitement subside slightly before resuming. We were able to maintain ourselves on the "edge" for about 15 minutes at most. We'd heard that some guys can make it last longer, but we were never able to do so. Some work their way up to near what I call the "critical zone," but then back off the moment they see their cock-heads swelling.

Bob and I tried to remain within the critical zone, varying our strokes both for variety and to avoid coming too fast. Bob would sometimes use only two fingers, lightly stroking the sides of his wet slippery cock-head, heavily lubricated by the pre-cum that constantly oozed from his slit. I'd use my fingertips to massage different areas of my glans and shaft, careful to keep the strokes gentle, until I felt the warning tingle that told me I was about to come. We have more lubrication than most guys, and when we get close to the edge our cock-heads become darker in color. Bob's goes from pinkish-purple to purple, and mine changes from purple to a darker shade.

The back of my rim turns so dark it's almost black. Different guys not only have different strokes, but different sensations as well. My cock-head begins to tingle when I am at the point of erupting. Bob says his becomes more sensitive. We both see our pre-cum start to emerge in pulses instead of steady seeping. We've also seen different guys react differently when they come. Some just shiver a little when they climax, and their juice oozes from their tips.

They say it feels great to them, but at times we're not even sure they're coming because it seems too mild. Bob and I both have big, blasting orgasms, with strong white jets shooting from our throbbing cocks. We writhe and groan when the orgasm rips through our bodies, and nobody watching has any doubt that we're blasting off. After we've had enough edging, we decide who comes first. Although we'd enjoyed many simultaneous orgasms, sharing the magic moment and feeling our bodies strain against each other's, we'd discovered that sequential orgasms could be more fulfilling. It was nice to watch the other coming, groaning through the sweet agony of release, without being distracted by one's own sensations.

It was also nice to enjoy orgasm without having to do anything to the other to allow him to enjoy his. This way, we each enjoyed two orgasms, one real and one vicarious, and this doubled our pleasure. We enjoyed edging for another reason; we'd noticed that the longer the build-up, the more intense and pleasurable our orgasms became. A quick whack-off would produce relief, and make us feel good, but not in the same way that taking our time in long, slow, build-ups would give us. Slipping slowly over the edge, savoring each tickle, each hot tingle, would bring us to long, fulfilling orgasms, as our cock-roots throbbed in ecstasy. Bob and I had been at it for about a quarter-hour when we decided he was closer and would come first. As we'd done before, we'd help each other through the climax.

I watched as Bob pulled back harder on his skin, stretching the tensed foreskin back from the dark, swollen head, enjoying the sensations as the nerve endings responded. He rubbed a fingertip around the end, and then worked back to the rim. His tip pulsed as a couple of drops of lube gushed from its slit, and I heard him groan loudly as he began coming. He let go his prick as I grasped it, fingers probing the groove behind his turgid head. We always stroked each other's grooves because this was the hottest spot on our cock-heads.

We'd expose the end of the glans while urinating, but never pulled the skin back fully except for washing, and our sensitive rims remained untouched, never seeing the light of day, until we exposed them for pleasure. Bob cried out as my fingertips stroked his sensitive, lubricated rim, and the tender foreskin tissue behind it. His hips bucked as his cock spit another load into the air. I'd let go of my prick to concentrate on Bob's, and I gave his groove another stroke with four fingertips as my thumb squeezed his glans from underneath, caressing his gee-string. He cried out as his hot tip again throbbed in my clasping fingers, ejecting another load. I felt his helmet throb again and saw another thick white jet erupt from his slit. He shot several more times until his jets weakened and he told me his tip was getting too sensitive. I stopped and clasped my own prick as Bob recovered.

My purple Darth Vader helmet was turgid as I pulled back on my hood, stretching the nerve endings buried deep inside. I felt the glans throb as the hot tingle began, and I knew it would be only seconds before I came. My teardrop shaped orifice was streaming pre-come, which ran down my prick, filling the groove and running over my fingers. Now my entire helmet was tingling, and my pre-cum was increasing. A pulse of juice surged from my tip, and I felt the heavy thud-thud-thud of my biological storm begin deep in my cock-root. I let go as Bob's fingers wrapped around my prick, his fingertips probing for my sensitive rim and groove. I felt his palm brushed my glans as his fingers stroked the sensitive area and brought another spasm from me. I heard myself crying out as my hot prick throbbed in release, and jet after jet spurted from my tip. It felt as if an electric current ran through each sensitive nerve ending, making me groan in agonized delight as the hot lava poured up my urethra.

My throbs got weaker, and Bob removed his hand, sensing that I was near the end. I felt the last drops run up my tube, saw them dribbling out the tip, and I relaxed. When we wanted super-hot orgasms, we avoided coming for a week, because we'd noticed that this would accumulate more sperm, and more sperm meant a longer and more intense release. At times we noticed that as we neared the edge, our pre-come would become milky, as the pressure inside built up so much that we began leaking. The super orgasm would come on more slowly, as the pre-come seeping turned into pulsing, and then full-force white jets erupting from our tips. I watched and noted that Bob behaved differently during a super orgasm. Instead of watching, fascinated, as his cock spit its load, he'd close his eyes and throw his head back as his lips drew back from his teeth.

Frozen in this orgastic rictus, Bob would tense up as the sensations paralyzed his body. We both noticed that during super orgasms, our cock-heads would always become very sensitive very early, and we would have stopped stroking if we'd b een doing ourselves. Instead, we poured on the sensations, making each other cry out in delicious agony as the orgasms wracked our bodies. In our experiences with circumcised guys, we'd noticed this almost never happened, because their tips were dried out and less sensitive than ours. Our cock-heads remained super-sensitive for a couple of minutes after we'd come, and we couldn't even wipe ourselves without causing mild distress. Only after our cocks had begun deflating did they lose their excessive sensitivity. Then we were able to pull our foreskins up to cover them. We really enjoy edging, and have been finding out that other guys do as well.

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