An Edger is Born

In a previous story, "Learning to Diddle My Clit," I talked about my slow, labored transformation from an immature leg-crossing, hand humping and squeezing masturbator to a legs wide open clit diddler. As dumb luck would have it, I went from orgasming through finger diddling only with great difficulty to hair trigger clit fingered orgasms in a short period of time.

I was 14 years old when one day at the library, I was reading the sex advice column of a grown woman's magazine. I think it may have been Cosmopolitan. The topic was how to have a better orgasm. The advice columnist said to masturbate until you feel an orgasm about to approach. Stop before you reach the point of no return. Then after the sensation of the approaching orgasm subsides, continue masturbating again. When you finally have the orgasm, it will be stronger.

I couldn't wait to try that technique out. As with the first time I changed my masturbation style, the leaning curve was steep. I followed the instructions, but in the first few diddle sessions when I stopped and started again, I climaxed immediately. It took a while to figure out how long I had to wait before I resumed stimulation. I definitely had to wait much longer than I had expected given how I had gotten myself into a habit of premature orgasm. Finally, I got the technique down pat.

To say this made my orgasm stronger was an understatement. It was my introduction to what I now know is a full body orgasm. My tiny, delicate body jerked and spasmed in severe bursts of pleasure or pain. I couldn't tell. My legs kicked and hips bucked. Head thrashed on the pillow. My fingers frigged furiously and on their own power, grinding my clit into my pubic bone, as I had an orgasm that seemed like it would never stop.

There was no way I was going to give this up. This was only the very beginning of a lifetime of edging.