I love this feeling. After an evening of rubbing myself to the sticky edge over and over again, it's a crazily intense feeling to stuff my thick leaky dick into my boxers, turn over, and try to fall asleep with the dribbles of precum still on me, my cock still twitching softly, and balls still pulled up close to my body, hoping they'll be allowed to empty.

Those poor, heavy balls. They have no idea how wrong they are. The month is barely getting started.

The best part is the morning, though: morning wood so hard it feels like it will tear through my boxers. Then lying in the sheets, sneaking a hand between my legs to gently cup my manhood, and thinking to myself, "I'm sure they feel heavier than yesterday." And they probably are.

You know they're really blue and achy because you can feel the remnants of the edging from last night --- it's like a gentle pulsing in your nuts and a tight knot your stomach.

And then you wrap your hand around your shaft and do it all again before starting work for the day. You spend the day carrying this built up arousal around with you, like some wonderfully intoxicating secret between your legs, being reminded of it with every bounce and bump and jostle of your day.

It's fucking wonderful.

Why would I ever want it to end?

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