Part 1 of 3
From the time I first caught on to joys of masturbation when I was 15 [a slow starter, I guess!] I was convinced that the object of the activity was to achieve a climax, and the quicker the better. Sure, I enjoyed the increasingly intense feelings of sexual arousal as the build-up occurred, but the pièce de résistance was reaching orgasm and enjoying the utterly fantastic feeling of repeated ejaculations.
Quite by accident I discovered something more . . . much more. About 15 years ago I had some spare time on my hands early one morning so I decided to lay back, relax, and do some slow-stroking and massaging, using my favorite lube. And, as my Cowper's fluid started dripping I'd rub it over and around my glans and frenulum which created an even more intense pleasure. It wasn't long - no more than a few minutes - and I could feel I was getting close to the edge. I backed off a little, and then continued for another ten or fifteen seconds until I was nearly at the edge again. This continued for nearly two hours. Finally, the pleasure was so intense and the inner urge was so strong that I decided to let myself go. In a matter of seconds the semen shot out as if an internal volcano blew. The first rope flew up to the ceiling, and the next several shot out 6 inches or more all over my chest and face. After two hours of sweet torture [or at least it felt something like torture at times] and then a climax that I'll never forget, I was literally hooked on edging [also known as surfing or peaking, as I later learned].
When I was a teen I had a refractory period that seemed like barely more than a nanosecond! But, after I turned 50 it was a different matter. Once I ejaculated that was it . . . for a couple of days or so before I was horny enough to feel like masturbating again. Once I hit upon the idea of edging, though, I found that I didn't really need to worry about a refractory period. I could enjoy that incredibly pure, intense pleasure of edging for extended time periods, day after day [and sometimes more than once a day], as long as I kept myself in check and didn't venture too far out to that proverbial edge.
While I haven't kept a log book, based on a running average of four days a week [conservatively] that I've devoted to edging, this adds to at least 3,000 edging sessions over the past 15-plus years. They've ranged from an hour to just over 4 hours. Most of the time I've been able to maintain self control, but about once every 25 sessions I will 'accidentally' slip over the edge. When I do, it's either because I momentarily lose focus or because my internal plumbing will no longer cooperate with my attempts at not getting too close to the edge. Mind over matter works most of the time, in other words, but now and then it works the other way!
As with a few other guys I know, it's fantastic when one has a spouse who understands the need for solo sex - alongside that of engaging regularly with one's partner. I too have been fortunate . . . we've had a terrific relationship for 45 years already, but it's been able to happily accommodate my interest in masturbating and edging. Now and then, if I've been a bit too 'audible' in the early morning hours, she's kidded me over breakfast about getting 'a little carried away'! But, she understands my keen enjoyment in edging and knows that this is in a separate compartment, as it were, from what she and I enjoy together.
Experience counts for something, of course, and I've 'discovered' over the years a few dozen stroking and massaging techniques - using one hand, two hands, concentration on part of my shaft or all of it, stroking the perineum and scrotum, etcetera - each of which play a part in building toward orgasm and prolonging the sexual sensations. When I get close to the edge I ease off and, after a half minute [give or take] build back up toward the edge again. . . moving back and forth more than a dozen times every hour. Keeping myself in a rather highly-excited state for hours at a time is not only intensely pleasurable. I've felt very often that I'm in a euphoric state, almost in some altered state of consciousness! Weird maybe, but the sexual sensations are so powerful that maintaining a high level of excitation for lengthy periods leaves me happily exhausted [mentally anyway].
Fast forward to this morning. Waking up at about 3:30, I felt that pleasantly nagging sensation at the base of my penis that I've felt thousands of times - making it impossible to fall back to sleep. So, after applying the usual lube and putting on a specially designed cock ring for added firmness, I began my 'slow masturbation' session just before 4 a.m. For the next two hours I enjoyed an uninterrupted edging session and, as aroused as I continued to feel, I decided to challenge myself and see how long I could masturbate, i.e., building back and forth just 'up to' the climactic edge. Given my typical [but not perfect] record of self control and ability to maintain focus, I had a hunch that, this time, I might possibly continue almost indefinitely.
All of the conditions were just right. I had lots of time; the house was quiet; nothing in particular on my mind to worry about; just a blissfully peaceful morning. Every so often I'd look at the clock and on several occasions it was as if the last 20 or 30 minutes had flown by in an instant. Stroking, massaging, switching positions, changing speed . . .I had the feeling much of the time that I was surfing - just like when I was a kid in southern California - except now I was riding the crest of one wave of intense arousal, backing away and then heading out to another wave as it built . . . and built and . . .just before breaking I'd quickly steer myself back to 'calmer waters'. And so it went. Time passed, and I was lost in what I could only describe as euphoria.
Finally, taking a quick look at my alarm clock-the time was 9:05. I was so close to going over the edge uncontrollably that I decided to call it a day! While I lost count after the first hour, I'm absolutely convinced that I 'approached' the edge well over 100 times. Quite frequently I'd also feel a few small orgasms [not the full-bore kind that creates an ejaculation], and every so often I'd dribble small amounts of semen. I'm not sure whether it's the semen or my Cowper's fluid that I would feel welling up from the base of my penis, and travel along the urethra, but that warm feeling itself is part of the pleasure! Anyway, I felt exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. Five full hours of edging. Had never done it before. I'll probably never do it again, but to have achieved this sexual marathon just once in my life, I'll never forget it.
[For the next story soon. . . . Enjoying my sexuality at 67 with the help of Viagra, some wonderful tools called cock rings, and some terrific lubrication.]