The Peak
This was something that I just wrote up on a whim. Partly to get the idea out of my head, and partly to keep myself writing.
A shuddering sigh escapes my muzzle as I reach down and grab the base of my trembling shaft again. I've lost track of how long I've been teasing myself like this, but as agonizing as it is to get so close each time before stopping, I know it'll be worth it in the end. I squeeze my paw lightly around myself and resume stroking. This time, I can feel the pleasure building even faster as my paw picks up the pace, almost of it's own accord. Panting in desire my paw continues, almost flying up and down my shaft. With each stroke my thick foreskin slides up and covers the head, then wetly grips it as it's pulled down. Who needs to fuck something else when you can practically fuck your own cock? The lewd thought sends a shiver up my spine, making my tail fluff out and bringing me a step closer to that edge. My body begins to insist; don't stop, finish, let me do what I was meant to do. Stopping is going to be so very difficult this time. Concentrate. Don't be ruled by your body. With a wrench, my focus is pulled away from the shaft that demands attention mentally and physically and the stroking pauses. Knowing that even though the stroking has stopped, I can't make myself left go of the needy length, my other paw, Oh right, the other paw, is free and I use it to good effect, reaching down to play with my balls. This feels good, but not the kind of good that's going to make me cum. Rolling the heavy orbs gently makes me squirm, as they are so very delicate. I can feel the slight dampness of my exertions in the light fuzzy fur. Even as this new form of pleasure washes through me, I can feel a slight relaxing as my body starting to unwind, to back down from the edge yet again. It's a beautiful agony, in the very literal sense; by this time my body has begun to protest this cruel treatment. Though at a glance you'd think my balls are white, right now they are definitely blue, and they require the most gentle treatment. My focus is so far gone however that I don't trust myself, and an accidental squeeze at the wrong time could ruin this moment.
Carefully letting go, I shiver as I lift my paw. It's my own imagination of course, but I happily fancy that I can see the shiny dampness left on my paw tips and without further ado bring them up to my muzzle. My eyes slide closed quite involuntarily as I inhale deeply, drawing the scent in. There is the slight tang of the sweat that I've worked up, and despite my nose telling me that this is salty, I argue that it is one of the sweetest scents there is. Topped only by what comes next, the rich sexual essence that can only be described as musk. It's thick, almost drowning me as it washes through my nose. For one brief, very distracting moment, the image of a musk connoisseur pops into my head. A heady bouquet, a young sample, though it will definitely improve with age. A small huff of laughter escapes at the thought, taking with it most of the aroma I was so busy basking in. With a groan, I come back to my senses. Well, at least one sense; my dick is throbbing with need, straining my grip in reaction to this traipse down olfactory lane. Now that the moment is lost, I can inhale again without losing myself, and do with gusto. I can't be the only one who loves his own scent this much, can I? But the thought really doesn't bother me because in the end; who cares? I enjoy it, and that's what this evening is about isn't it?
Getting high and hornier off of my own musk, my balls throb painfully and yes, the glorious moment has arrived. This time, we will not be stopping boys; hold on tight. Keeping the free paw right where it is (smothering my nose in vulpine heaven), the other one leaps to the task at hand. A sigh, or is it a groan, pours from my maw as my paw pulls the skin down around my head, and I force myself to keep a steady pace. My muscles twitch, aching to stroke furiously but they're overruled. We're so close, we're not going to screw it up now. With that thought tenuously grasped in mind my paw steadily strokes up and down, gradually increasing in speed. I don't know how it feels for anyone else, but for me it's like a fire ignites right in that one delicious, oh so sensitive place right on the underside of the head of my dick. The heat has been building all night, but now my balls, my cock and my brain are all in agreement: this is it. With that decision made, the fire is lit and now it is game time. After all of the build up, it isn't even a race to the finish, it's a sprint, and now I'm sprinting. Faster and faster my paw flashes up and down, and that fire roars to life in my cock. A candle becomes a campfire becomes a bonfire. Now my eyes roll back in my head, my lungs open and draw in as much as they can hold and my muzzle falls open.
I have no sight, no smell, no hearing, no taste. There is only the sense of touch and it fills my awareness as the line is crossed. Like an implosion, everything in me is drawn to one point of pleasure in my cock. The pleasure breaks through some barrier that mundane orgasms cannot breach, and continues to climb further and further. Even the sense of touch falls away until there is only ecstasy for one glorious moment. Then the muscles in my cock contract, each motion sending my limbs twitching, and it starts to get even better. Have you ever had a dry orgasm? No one can deny how good it is to feel cum pump through you and out, but it's even better when you don't. It's like your body gives up on that and focuses all the pleasure into one point instead. I vaguely realize that I've rolled to the side, curled into the fetal position; the rest of my body is on autopilot. My entire conscious attention is focused on the pleasure, with a vague corner occupied with keeping that paw moving. Time seems to pause, compressed so much that it crawls by as each contraction of those unconscious muscles sends shockwaves of pleasure ripping through me. As I finally cross the peak and my orgasm wanes, I clench myself and the pleasure surges through one more time before ebbing away. Not that it's gone entirely; my cock still twitches with aftershocks, but the main event is over. My eyes lazily slide open and I find myself in need of breath, inhaling deeply and letting it out as I start to relax. Pleasant exhausted euphoria sets in and I know I'll drift off to sleep soon.