Double-cum!

I came home from work, after spending a fair portion of that day and a few days before that, edging pretty extensively. I knew I was going to have the rest of the afternoon and into the evening to myself, but there was just a little uncertainty about what time my wife would actually walk in the door, and she would be “done in” from the day, and recent events driving her schedule. So I flopped onto the couch, undid my belt and zipper and snap, and slid my jeans down a ways, but left my briefs up. I wasn’t sure if I would “just edge” some more, or finish things off with a good cum.  But if it was the later, I needed to contain the results. No dribbling running off my hand or arm or belly, to leave a stain on the couch. It’s a solid light colored fabric, which just would never clean up all the way I presume. 

So I start stroking, but with my hand and cock fully in my briefs just in case. And who’s kidding who, here? I know I’m taking this all the way to cum-pletion… I’d been edging for too long already.  Getting excited in the car earlier in the day, and days prior, while driving along my routes. Working my cock out of the loose leg hole of my old, “relaxed-fit” briefs, which I wear for these occasions, getting my stiffened member down the leg of my pants so I can rub, and caress and brush up against it as discretely as necessary while parked or while driving.  Knowing I can stay hard for extended periods (pardon the pun), or get hard and soft and hard and soft again, repeating often. Enjoying the swelling, stretching feeling of my cock in its confined, semi-restricted environment, and enjoying the occasional feel of a trickle of precum ooze out of my tightly confined member and just slightly dampen the fabric of the leg of my jeans ever-so-slightly. Not enough to see, but just enough to make my fingertips just a little slippery… 

Back to the couch sitrep.  I was still gently stroking my confined member, still adding to the tease at this point. I knew I could still choose to get up and go blow my load elsewhere. In the sink, or into a towel, after getting up and going to the bedroom.  But I was comfortable here on the couch, and wanted to watch the cum ooze through the fabric of my shorts while feeling the throbbing, but not seeing. Feeling the spasms, but not seeing, feeling the spurts traveling up the vein and out my shaft, like I’d done on other occasions. Feel the juices flowing down my hand, but just letting everything absorb into my shorts and get soaked up. No spillage. No worries. A quick load of wash after, and I’m good as gold. 

Well, my stroking was doing just fine, thank you. And with the help of a little precum, things were a little more slippery now… that pressure… that intensity was increasing. My hard shaft was pointed straight out tight against my tented shorts. The moment was approaching. That tingling started. My haunches tightened. My hips pushed forward harder, like I was driving further into a softness of flesh that wasn’t there. Searching but finding nothing. Ooohhh, there it is. Now I’m cumming. It’s in my shorts, on my shaft. On my hand. Just a little bit starts forcing its way out through the fabric.  My warm, wet hand holds still for a moment. I feel dripping from my wrist onto my groin, and into the crease of my leg. I move my hand up and down my shaft again, and it slides so easily. It’s wet. Slick. Tingley. Ohhh, so slippery. I have to keep sliding my hand. More. Still more. Building more speed.  There’s that feeling again!  Pulses and thrusting against my hand. Against my shorts. Against the wetness that’s flowing across the whole front of my shorts. I’m suddenly cumming again, a second time, and at an intensity level I haven’t felt in a long time. It just keeps going. I’m reeling. I’m slowing down. Finally subsiding. Sighing. Relief, finally. Beyond relief. Now it’s BLISS. I lay there. Calmness overcoming effort, and anxiety, and tension and angst and desire. 

I soak in the bliss for a while. Not even moving but to breathe. Hand still wrapped around my shaft. Wetness still pooling and also soaking, into my shorts, but contained.  Ahhhh… now it’s over. It was well worth the wait. I get up. Strip down. Wash off. Change clothes. Start a load of laundry. And the world is right again. For a while.