Over the bridge, right onto Sophia St., left onto Amelia St., right again onto Prince Edward St., and finally right into the driveway. The last few turns of my daily commute still felt automatic even though it was a few hours later and quite a bit darker than normal. With deadlines looming at work, I would be staying late every day this week. 

Stepping out of the car and grabbing my backpack from the backseat, I hoped that my wife, Amanda, was already cooking dinner. A fantasy of opening the door to find my beautiful wife cooking dinner wearing nothing but an apron and a thong flashed through my head. On my way to the door, I peeked through the window and my dream was crushed. Not only was my wife not in the kitchen, but it looked as if nothing had been touched since I did the dishes last night. I could not help, but be a little annoyed that after working late, it looked like I would be cooking dinner as well. As I turned my key in the lock, I tried to remember what meals we had planned for the week and more importantly, which would be the easiest to prepare, but as I stepped through the door, all of those thoughts came to a screeching halt. 

Amanda was sitting on the couch, watching tv as if it was any other day, but she was wearing a set of red lingerie. The top was a lacy red bra with fabric so thin and sheer, her nipples were clearly visible. I did not get a great view of the bottoms in her seated position, but I had eaten her pussy through the hole in the matching crotchless panties enough times that I knew exactly how sexy she looked in them. 

I just stood still with my jaw open for a few seconds, staring at her and then I rushed towards her uncontrollably. She stood up, giving me an even better view of her amazing body accentuated by the delicate lace and straps of the lingerie. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her aggressively. I grabbed her ass and roughly squeezed each cheek as I pressed my tongue into her mouth. 

She broke our kiss and moved her mouth towards my ear. I moaned as her lips tickled my earlobe. She began whispering in my ear, pausing every few words to continue teasing my earlobe with her tongue, “I know working late can be stressful for you... so I wanted to do something special... every day this week, you are going to arrive home to find me dressed not unlike I was today... and ready to play with you.” As the last words crossed her lips, she began gently rubbing my cock over my pants. 

She was quiet for a few seconds while she squeezed and groped the growing bulge in my pants, then she continued whispering in my ear, “But there is a catch... you, my good boy, are not going to cum.” I smiled, tease and denial was my favorite thing in the world. I even loved the aching pain of blue balls. 

“I thought you would like that,” she said smiling back at me. “Now get naked and sit on the couch. I’ve got a cock to edge.”

I did not waste a second complying with her request. I ripped my clothes off and sat down, spreading my legs wide so she could kneel between them. She tossed a pillow on the ground between my legs before kneeling down, which could only mean one thing. She was planning on being down there quite a while.

She started by slowly tracing her long nails up and down my thighs. My cock began to soften slightly with the lack of stimulation, but precum was still oozing from the tip. Slowly, she moved her hands closer and closer to my crotch. After what felt like an eternity, she brushed my balls with the back of her hand as her nails dragged up the crease of my thighs. She was careful to avoid touching my cock. We both knew there was a lot of teasing left to be done before that.

It was not much longer before she transitioned to teasing my balls. She switched back and forth between gently rubbing with the palm of her hand and just barely scraping her nails across the sensitive skin.

“Before I touch your cock and you completely lose control, I want to clarify a few things. I am doing this to help you have some fun through a stressful week, but if your blue balls are too distracting and are creating more problems than they are solving, let me know and I will drain them for you,” she said grabbing my balls tightly around the base and squeezing so they were pulled away from my body. 

“But if you so much as touch this cock without my permission, these balls of yours are going to be punished,” she said slapping my balls a few times just hard enough to remind me what was at stake.

“Now that we are on the same page it’s time for the real fun,” she said releasing my balls and reaching for a bottle of lube on the coffee table. The cool liquid felt incredible as she squirted it on my cock. 

The moment her hands touched my cock was bliss. She rubbed the lube all over my cock and balls with the palm of her hand and then began stroking my shaft. My wife’s hands are unlike anything else I have experienced. I love blowjobs and fucking, but handjobs are the tried and true method for driving me wild. 

Amanda always uses the same two techniques whether she’s trying to get me to cum as fast as possible or edging me into oblivion. She starts with one hand playing with my balls while the other strokes my shaft, every once in a while shortening her strokes and focusing on the head. When she wants to make things even more intense, she strokes my shaft with both hands twisting in opposite directions. 

Today was no different. She alternated between her two methods bringing me just to the brink of orgasm and then stopping, over and over again. I lost track of time and the number of edges. All I knew was that my cock felt incredible, but my balls were going to be blue as hell tomorrow and for the rest of the week. 

Finally, after what must have been at least thirty minutes and dozens of edges, she stopped and said, “I think that’s plenty of edging for your first night, but don’t worry there’s plenty more to come.”

The rest of the night was uneventful. The only reminder of what had transpired earlier in the night was the aching in my balls.