Imagine this: Sunday morning, just out of the shower, key in hand, cuddling with my wife as things heat up. She’s on the verge of letting me finish when I say no—I want to hold off until tomorrow. I stopped her for several reasons: I know my recovery capacity is limited; once I come, my interest in sex drops for a while; and all the buildup leading to that release is so delightful I want to repeat it soon. Plus, I derive immense pleasure from pleasing her. Afterward, she suggested (as I requested) that I put myself back into lock since she wanted to use me later at peak performance.
Trust me when I say stopping was tough. In that moment, I really, truly needed to come. If it weren’t for my recent experience with chastity, there is no way I would have held her back; such self-control wasn’t in my usual repertoire. But I’m incredibly glad I did. Once locked up again, we cuddled more and (between you and me) my hand started wandering before I knew what was happening, leading to another climax for her which I thoroughly enjoyed. My hand wouldn’t have wandered if I had just finished; the party would have ended right then and there.