It's been a long day, a tiring day, but I'm home at last. Closing and locking the door behind me, I kick my shoes off with rather more force than is strictly necessary, and stretch, reaching towards the ceiling with a groan. I need to relieve the accumulated tension of the day... and I know just how to do it.

I turn, padding across the carpet towards the bedroom, pulling my shirt over my head and off, and toss it into the laundry. My socks and pants soon flip through the air after it. Wearing just my boxers, I sit down on the bed, reaching over to grab the green glass bong off my bedside table. As I pack the bowl, a little tingle of anticipation races up my spine. When I'm high, it's almost as if I'm experiencing every taste, every smell, every touch for the first time. Food tastes more delicious, music takes on new and deeper meaning, and sex... well, some of the most mind-blowing orgasms I've ever had have come while high.

The flint rasps in the lighter, water churns and bubbles, and the heady, herbal flavor dances on my tongue as I inhale. I set the bong and lighter back down on the tabletop, still holding the smoke in. Eyes closed, I lay back on the bed with outstretched arms, holding the hit until my lungs feel like they're going to burst. I open my eyes slightly, looking towards the ceiling as I exhale in a pale, billowing cloud. The rush of fresh air into my aching lungs makes my head spin for a moment. My cock is already swelling, hardening, pushing against the thin fabric, and I wriggle free of my boxers. The soft smooth cotton bedsheets feel delicious on my bare skin as the weed starts to kick in. Reaching down, I let one finger trace lightly up the underside of my cock, and the sensation makes me catch my breath. I continue the feather-light touches, each gliding up from the base of my shaft to just below the head. My breathing is deeper now, my body jerking upwards slightly with every stroke.

My other hand comes up to my bare chest, slipping through the hair to my nipple, hard and erect as a tiny stone. I pinch, gasping, wondering if the sensation is like what you must feel when I worship your breasts. I pinch them again, rubbing a finger over the hot nub of flesh, and the first moan escapes my lips, almost inaudible.

Encircling my cock now with thumb and middle finger, I continue stroking, still stopping shy of the head. I can feel an energy building there, an electricity, that most sensitive flesh anticipating my touch. The first drop of precum appears at the tip, swelling, rolling slowly downwards across the darkening flesh. I bite my lip, the tempo accelerating, fighting back another moan.

Eventually I give in to my body's demands, my fingers now lubricated by the slick pre-cum flowing from the tip of my cock, and my fingers continue up from the shaft to finish their stroke on the head. My back arches, a muffled "mmmmf!" escaping my tightly-closed mouth. The pleasure is intense, heady, exhilarating, and my other hand slaps back down onto the bed, clenching the sheets between white-knuckled fingers.

My rhythm is faster, now, my breathing becoming ragged. That sense of fullness, of pressure, begins to build from the base of my throbbing cock, and my hips start bucking up in time with my hand.

I groan again, louder this time. Sensation is radiating out from my cock through my body like light from a star, my toes curling as my back lifts in an arch. I can feel it approaching, the point where I can't stop, to go over the edge into orgasm. I wrench my hand away with a gasp, breathing hard and fast, willing myself to stop short. I can feel my pulse thundering, each tiny jolt of sensation from the blood coursing through my swollen, slick cock threatening to push me over. Breath. The feeling ebbs, just enough to regain control.

My whole body is shaking. Another ragged breath, and again I trace one finger up my cock, sending a jolt through my whole body that forces it rigid. "ohhhhh fuck..." I pant, not caring if anyone hears, "ohhhh god... mmmmf..." My hand encircles my cock again, driving me to the edge with a few firm strokes. Again I fight that urgent need pulling at me, my whole body clenching with the effort of holding back the pressure and the light that threatens to overwhelm me.

Over, and over. Each time flirting with that edge, my body twisting and writhing uncontrollably, then quivering with tension, before I gasp and release my grip again. Somewhere deep in one corner of my mind, somewhere not completely overwhelmed by pleasure, I wonder how much more I can take. How long before I surrender this back and forth battle between the desire to prolong this as long as I can, and my body's growing need for release?

Another sprint up towards that edge, stroking frantically, urgently, my voice raised in inarticulate gasps and moans. The point of no return is so close.. so close... I have but an instant, when my control finally slips, to realise it's going to happen. My whole body thrashing on the bed, every muscle clenching, an animalistic growl in my throat as I fight against the irresistible tide, the pressure and pleasure surging...

It happens. Conscious thought disappears in the moment of climax, swept away in a supernova, thick jets of cum spurting from my engorged cock as my body convulses spasmodically.

It's several long moments before I can think coherently again. I'm shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, soaked in sweat and utterly exhausted. My chest and belly are glazed with cum, more than I would have thought possible before I discovered edging. A warmth fills me from head to toe, not the intense urgent heat of lust, but a warm, soothing glow. Dimly, I think that I should clean myself up, but the thought is lost as unconsciousness catches up to me and I drift into a deep, placid sleep.