How can I describe it, that moment just before orgasm?
It's impossible to describe, although we all know when it comes. That point of no return. That one precise snatch of time when you know you're about to cross the brink, and there's no going back. Just past the edge, that extra half-second. That's what it is, and when it comes. But it's still impossible to describe.
We know what happens. You lose control - mind, body and soul. Your hands don't know where to go (sometimes they flail, wildly, as if to catch something that isn't quite there). Your legs tremble and contort. And your mind flicks constantly, never standing still. You may close your eyes, you may bite your lip. You may gasp for breath, shuddering, deep. You may let out a moan or a word or even a scream.
But that's only what happens. The moment itself is still impossible to describe. It's wonderful, in a way; a fitting prelude to the climax that - at this one point - you know is going to happen. That is all it is. But to put together a description? Impossible.
It just is.