Ruined Orgasms Revisited…Part Two

Yeah, yeah…I know.  I was supposed to finish this long before now.  Sorry for the delay.

Back to the ruined orgasm experience…

The third way that I experience a ruined orgasm is for NW to stroke me to the point of no return and then just hold my cock.  She ceases any stroking or varying of pressure.  She simply holds my cock as the orgasm occurs.  This is ruined because I lose almost all of the stimulation that was driving me forward.  It most definitely is not a full orgasm, in any way.  It has the added twist, though, of prolonging the “orgasm”, even in a ruined state.  By that, I simply mean that you feel it rise, become starved of most stimulation and, as expected, crash.  It seems to be slightly drawn out, though.  The crash period is extended, though not necessarily increased in intensity.  There are more contractions and, usually, a bit more ejaculate, but ruined no less…with the corresponding emotional drop, physical discomfort and mild frustration.

The fourth, and most psychologically impacting, method of ruined orgasm is for NW to simply stroke me to/through the first contraction and to let go.  She can’t stop until the first contraction has started, whether it has happened or not.  When timed right, this ruined orgasm causes physical discomfort, immense frustration and has even given rise to agitation and anger in me.  The latter is, undoubtedly, caused by the degree of frustration that is experienced.  I believe this method is so soul-crushing simply because it really is a betrayal of a deceived body or, in my mind, a classic ruined orgasm.  By continuing on with the stimulation until the orgasm has actually begun, the body is 100% convinced that this is going to be a proper orgasm…and a damned good one with the preceding denial.  Then the bottom falls out!  It is like a person in the desert, dying of thirst, finally reaching the pool of water and finding it a mirage.  As I said, soul-crushing…

The final ruined orgasm experience is rather new to me.  This is where, much like number three, above, the orgasm is assured, stimulation is removed, but the hand, or thumb and finger(s), remain.  Their purpose is simply to apply pressure and prevent any ejaculate from leaving the body.  It could be used to cap the penis (cover the urethra), to pinch (close) the urethra along the shaft or even at the base of the penis.  Again, as with number three, this tends to prolong the contractions, as the body tries to expel the ejaculate.  I believe that the internal pressure helps to prolong the ejaculatory attempts.  Where this type of ruined orgasm excels, though, is in physical discomfort.  Your body tries, repeatedly, to ejaculate.  Contraction after contraction forces ejaculate forward.  Only…it has nowhere to go.  It is backed up and internal pressure just keeps rising.  Eventually the contractions stop and, once the blockage is removed, ejaculate dribbles out.  By this point, though, my balls, groin and urethra (up to the point of blockage) ache and can even mildly hurt.  It has an emotional drop-off.  It is frustrating, though not nearly as the previous type.  The main thing, however, is the physical discomfort.

And there they are…the five ways that I experience ruined orgasms.  Which is my favorite?  It really depends on my mood.  Right now, though, I am interested in exploring the last type.  NW has yet to cause the blockage at the base of my cock.  I am very interested in how that would play out.  I really like the ones where she stimulates me until I can’t stop but it takes several seconds for it to start.  It is a cool feeling, until the crash.  On some level, though, I crave the worst of them.  The one that leaves me the most frustrated.  I think that is because it has zero redeeming qualities…not even morbid curiosity.  And, after all, a ruined orgasm shouldn’t have anything good about it…right?

For Love of Ass

While reading Robert Anthony’s latest post, today, I couldn’t help but notice his expressing his want to enjoy Mistress R’s ass.  Part of that, of course, is wanting to pleasure his mistress.  Make no mistake, though, it is also a very selfish want.  How do I know this, I am the same way…just not with Mistress R.  In fact, if you read my last few posts, you will see that I often pleasure NW’s ass.  In our case, it is something that I wanted, I pushed for and NW has finally come around to really enjoying.  But why want it?

I mean, I get no physical stimulation from licking, sucking or probing NW’s ass.  Well, beyond what my lips and tongue feel, but that isn’t pleasurable.  Pleasuring ass is a completely mental experience, for me.  It is also a multifaceted experience.  By that I mean, when I pleasure NW’s ass, it is a wonderful act that brings her pleasure.  It brings me pleasure, mentally, to know that I am causing that pleasure.  It also brings me pleasure, though, because of the nature of it.  In my opinion, barring ingesting the excrement of another, it is one of the “filthiest”, kinkiest acts that I can do.  After all, that is the exit point for bodily waste and has no reproductive function.  Of course, the fact that so many people are, or would be, completely repulsed by the idea just adds to the naughtiness of it.

I like to do it because it turns me on, makes me feel naughty and is something that I can give NW that few others would be willing to, assuming we included others.  It, traditionally, has been a litmus test for me.  If I am willing to put my mouth and tongue to work on a woman’s ass, she is in tier one with respect to my attraction.  Don’t we all have that scale?  “Yes, I would let this woman give me a blowjob, but nothing more.”  Followed by, “I would have intercourse with her, but I am not putting my mouth on her.”  Then, “Yep.  I’d go down on her.”  When you get to, “I want to tongue fuck her ass and I don’t care if she has showered.”  Well, from there, where do you go?  If my tongue goes there, not only do I find you attractive, but you are on fire…or my want has driven me to absolute depravity.

What is funny about this, though, is that as much as I love it, I use it as a “negative” in some fantasies.  In some of my chastity fantasizes, I am relegated to continual denial while only being allowed to service my keyholder’s ass, as a form of degradation or breaking me.  They invite friends over and I am used to service their asses, never their pussies.  Femdom fantasies can follow the same theme.  I am used only for pleasuring asses.  It is the only part of her body that I am allowed to touch.  The act is meant to serve to break me, demean me, humiliate me…as I am not worthy of more.

How can I successfully get turned on by using something I enjoy so much completely out of context?  How could something I love be demeaning, humiliating or a punishment?  I don’t find it any of those things.  But, in context, it very much can be.  The context being, not my view of it, but the view of the one(s) I am pleasuring.  Even if I love eating ass, being relegated to that only, because I am unworthy of more, is demeaning, is it not?  After all, she must think it such, or she wouldn’t use it in that manner.  Knowing that she sees me in that light puts me there, even if I, personally, love the act.

If she brings others into it and tells them how unworthy I am and has me pleasure only their asses, with so much more right there, is that not humiliating?  Or, worse, what if the ones she brings in are not on a tier that qualifies as acceptable for ass licking?  Being forced to pleasure asses that you are devoid of desire to do so, or even repelled by.

In any case, I love pleasing NW’s ass.  When I see a very attractive woman, I can gauge my opinion of her, physically, by whether or not I could see myself tongue deep in her ass.  It is a somewhat depraved act, which only heightens the intensity of the experience.  And I am all about intensity.

Evening Pleasure, Early Morning Pain

As I mentioned in the last post, my uber want had subsided.  That was a good thing.  By evening, NW and I settled in for a short session of rather tame, but good, play.  The highlight was intercourse.  Intercourse is always iffy, when I have been in denial and the want to keep me there remains.  We do seem to have found a means by which we can have intercourse and I do not immediately go rocketing over the edge.  It provides less stimulation for me and different stimulation for NW, but still provides her with the experience of my girth prying into her and filling her pussy.

Normally, NW would mount me, or I her, and intercourse would be like a piston pumping…in and out, in and out.  The stimulation that gives me, not to mention my own movements, will take me there quickly, when I am already in overdrive.  If, however, she mounts me and sinks to the bottom, keeping me at that depth, all is well.  Instead of riding up and down, she grinds front to back.  This method gives her all of the sensation of me entering her and being inside of her, but only provides a little bit of in and out.  The main benefit, though, is that fully sunk, the head of my cock is in constant contact with her cervix.  As she moves front to back, my cock drags/presses back and forth across and around her cervix.  Hello orgasms!

So, besides the typical fingering, licking sucking and stroking, that was the highlight, and a worthy one, of our evening play.

Then, late last night, about one-thirty in the morning, I finally slipped into bed.  Once I was sure that NW had drifted back to sleep, from my having roused her, I began to finger her exposed pussy.  She, moments later, woke with a jerk.  She was not yet in full orgasm, but close.  She didn’t resist and I continued until she went over the edge.  This continued until she had several orgasms setting her nerves alight.  She then stroked me for a bit, and rubbed, fondled and clawed at my balls.  Then to the biting.

NW has a thing for biting, giving and receiving.  I generally don’t let her bite me, though, as her incisors are extremely sharp and very little pressure is agony.  Yesterday, it had dawned on me that, if she approaches my cock from the side, and takes me as far back as she can, with my cock running across her mouth, instead of into it, we can prevent the incisors from being the major player, just because of the angles, once I have forced her to open wide.

With that knowledge, she took my mostly hard member in her mouth and bit down, holding it.  It was wonderful!  Painfully wonderful…  She would later do it again when I was half hard.  She was able to bite even harder then.  Of course, my giving her an orgasm as she bit me made sure that she let me have it.  In fact, I will often give her orgasms whenever she is doing something that involves pressure, as the pressure increases as she orgasms.

The remainder of the session, besides me strategically causing her orgasms, consisted of ball squeezing, pressing my squeezed balls against her knee, squeezing each ball individually (this really hurts) and lots of light impact play.  The impact play spanned very light slaps to moderate impacts with the palm and palmside of a partial fist.  She did a very good job at taking me to the edge of what I felt that I could endure and holding me there.

Her motivation seems to be my reaction, not, necessarily my pain.  She loves the sense of being able to cause such extreme reactions from me.  Pain seems to simply be the tool to do it, much like edging does.

Anyway, I need to cut this short.  I have to go find my dear, loving NW and get her to hurt me.

Fantasy Versus Reality

In the realm of male chastity, NW and I seem to be an anomaly.  Sure, I get denied and am sometimes caged, just like you would expect.  But…I am the dominant partner.  NW is the submissive partner.  We are not in a FLR/FLM.  The “enforced” chastity/denial is really anything but, unless you consider mutual consent to be “enforced”.  That, really, is why we proceed in the manner that we do.

That is the reality of our relationship.  Fantasy can be much different, of course.  I fantasize about dominating.  I fantasize about submitting.  I fantasize about being kept in chastity and keeping another in chastity.  I fantasize about otherwise vanilla things.  Fantasy is the chance to indulge in things you have not yet experienced or likely never will experience, in real life.

It is in fantasy that I truly experience “enforced chastity”.  Why?  Why not just run with it with NW?  Couldn’t we create that environment?  Yes, of course we could.  The problem is, it isn’t real.  CBT is real.  It hurts.  Caning, cropping, flogging, alligator clips, etc… are likewise real.  Orgasms are real.  My ability to physically dominate NW is real.  NW as a full-time submissive, however, is not real.  I have no way to enforce it.  Likewise, with the chastity/OC, NW has no way to enforce it.

If she were to cage me and refuse to unlock me, in the face of my insistence, thinks could get rather tense and unpleasant, to say the least.  Same as if I wanted her to submit and she didn’t want to.  What exactly would we do to enforce it?  We are happily married, have wonderful kids and an entire life outside of this.  Are we going to risk any of that, or just familial harmony for a fetish?  I don’t think so.

But, regardless, in fantasy, we crave that means of enforcement…to make it real.  That is why NW is conspicuously absent from most of my fantasies.  She is not replaced with a specific person, but more the idea of a person.  In respect to chastity fantasies, this “woman” might be someone closer to my age.  She might be a college age female (we live near a major university) who is confident and desirable enough that I willing give over control.  It is most often a college age female who is insecure and a gem in the rough.  With all three of these, besides attraction/want for them, the main ingredient is a lack of vested interest.  By that I mean, we have no relationship beyond my chastity and her pleasure.  Why?  Because any relationship beyond that would give me leverage.

A young woman, finding her sexuality in my denial.  She uses me for her pleasure, becoming ever more confident.  With no other ties to me, she learns to use me for only her pleasure and embraces the effect that being kept in denial has on me.  There is no relationship to lose, if she refuses to release me. The key is not at my house.  I can’t force her to tell me where it is or get her to give it to me without risking going to jail.  My only real option would be to try to cut it off or go through the embarassment of having someone else do it.  In essence, I am trapped in chastity and my only hope for pleasure is to please her.

There have been different versions of this main theme.  A common one is that she makes me her ass slave.  For a duration, I am only allowed to orally pleasure her ass, having to earn the right to pleasure her pussy.  In that vein, she has me pleasure her friends as well.  Again, I am only allowed to service their asses.  (Yes, I have an extreme ass fetish)  The actual denial can last months, even years.

In fact, in one of these fantasies, the woman who cages me has at least two and half years of college remaining.  She keeps me for the duration (sometimes allowing a few orgasms during that duration, sometimes none) only to pass my key to another, once she graduates and moves on.

Anyway, when I used to masturbate, I often thought about just this.  It is delicious, but it will never happen.  NW would castrate me…lol.  Not to mention, I wouldn’t trade her for all the gold in Avalon.  And trying to live that out, would definitely be trading her.  And, of course, there is the fact that, in reality, I am not wired to live it.

Mornings

Mornings are such a wonderful time, especially on non-work days.  The past two days have been wonderful examples.  Yesterday morning, I got out of bed to brush my teeth and do a couple of things.  I had every intention of climbing back into bed with NW, since she roused when I got up.  She knew that I would be back.  She was horny (of course) and was having wonderful thoughts of me doing gentle, slow, orgasmic things to her.  I, however, not knowing this, was in a completely different mood.

Once I climbed in bed, I moved in behind her.  I grabbed her ponytail, to lock her head down, and began tweaking her nipples…hard.  She was in obvious discomfort.  I asked her if it hurt and she replied in the affirmative.  I slapped her thigh and asked her if she wanted to hurt for me.  She hesitated, then told me she had hoped for something gentle.  I told her that I wanted her to hurt for me.  Something about wanting her to earn the denial she was enforcing on me…which, of course, are completely unrelated.  She rolled onto her side, away from me, and I reached my arm beneath her head, half wrapped it around her neck and grabbed her upper arm on the opposite side.  This, in effect, locked her upper body down and put it under my control.

For those of you who are not aware, I am over twice NW’s weight and extremely strong.  Once I take control of her, she is not getting away from me.  She has tried and failed, time and again, and she loves it.

I locked one of her legs between mine and extended one of them to hold down her other.  She was locked down, unable to effectively struggle and her legs were wide open.  I began biting her on the neck, shoulder, arm and flanks.  All the while, I continued slapping her inner thigh.  Eventually I settled on her right nipple.  I took a portion of the breast in my mouth and set my lower teeth right across her nipple.  Then I bit down hard.  She writhed and winced.  I bit harder, still popping her inner thigh.  Then I went for her pussy.

There was to be no gentle stroking of her clit, this morning.  I slapped it hard.  Her body protested, but not her mouth.  Five times I slapped it.  Each time, pain registered on her face.  She was not completely enjoying this.  So I released her nipple and assaulted the other, in the exact same manner.  I resumed slapping her exposed pussy.  She still seemed to want it to end, obviously in pain.  Then it happened.  She came.  The game was over.  She had succumbed to it and there was no turning back.

I bit harder, causing her to arch in pain, and slapped her pussy harder.  She came again…and then again.  I moved back to the first nipple and repeated.  She came again.

Moving to biting other exposed flesh, I roughly inserted two fingers and violently thrashed about deep in her pussy, assaulting her cervix.  And yes, she continued to come.  I released her heaving body.  She was as wet as I can ever remember.  And by wet, I mean lubrication, not the ejaculate that she had sprayed all over the bed.  She had not wanted this, but quickly was consumed by it.  It was a good thing.

Last night we played again and I gave her the gentle attention that she had earlier craved.  It took a lot of work to get her there.  She said that the gentle sensations felt great, but were not intense enough to get her to orgasm easily.  When she did get there, she said that the orgasm was not nearly as intense.  I knew that.  It was obvious.

Then, this morning, I got the rare pleasure of being awakened by NW.  I almost always wake up first, but not today.  I got to awaken to my naughty wife stroking my swollen, denied cock.  It was wonderful.  She edged me five times before we were done.  And, as usual, she devoured my pre-sum, while sharing a bit with me.

And yes, she was serviced as well.  Other than tweaking her nipples, I was not rough with her.  I did avoid touching her pussy, though.  I made her grind against my leg to reach orgasm.  In fact, she has been told that any orgasms she received today would all have to come from riding my leg.  No toys, fingers or mouth will touch it (unless I decide I need to taste it tonight).

If you’re wondering why she doesn’t do it herself, it is because she is not allowed to masturbate while I am being denied.  No, I am not denying her.  She will have more orgasms in one session that I would have in half a month of normal sex and masturbation.  It’s just that all of her orgasms have to come from me.

It looks as though it will be an interesting day.

The Plan

Well…we don’t really have one.  Okay, maybe we have a rough idea.  True to ourselves, the plan is dynamic, like our wants and yearnings.  I will crave the OD/OC for a while and NW will love it.  There will be caning, cropping, flogging, clothespins, heavy paperclips, spanking and more, for NW.  There will also be lots of orgasms for NW.  For me, there will be denial, teasing, lots of pre-cum leaked everywhere and, eventually, CBT.

Speaking of NW’s orgasms, I found something wonderful!  Just before we left for vacation, we were playing around a bit.  During the course of it, I inserted a sound in her urethra and sank it as far as it would comfortably go.  Normally, once inside, I can bring her to orgasm just by twisting the sound around and moving it in and out, every so slightly.  This time, however, just before she reached orgasm, I stopped and placed a clothespin directly on her clit, so that her clit was in the groove.  She immediately went over the edge.  What was so wonderful about it was that she couldn’t stop cumming.

The added stimuli, from the clothespin, was enough to send her careening over the edge.  As she came, her contractions caused the sound to be pushed outward.  I simply held it steady and let her, uncontrollably, thrust against it and cause it to move about inside of her.  The orgasm must have lasted nearly a full minute, until she passed out.  Just like normal, she came back around about 5 seconds later and immediately went back into orgasm.  She couldn’t stop!

I had mercy, however, and removed the sound.  She stopped, briefly, until I started tugging on the clothespin.

As for me, and the current denial, I had mentioned to her wanting to get past twenty-eight days.  I have gotten to twenty-eight days twice.  A month would be a nice achievement.  Will we get there?  Maybe…  It really depends on two things.  First, can NW go that long without intercourse.  For me to do her properly, she is going to have to let me reach orgasm, unless I somehow become less sensitive.  That, of course, is possible.  Second, that my mood holds.  If I started getting frustrated, in a negative way, we both will end it, because it just isn’t worth it.  Here’s hoping that we get through it.

Oh, and I  had a wonderful idea for the religious minded.  Yes, I am one of those.  Being that I am not Catholic, I never new that Lent was forty weekdays and that weekends were free days.  With that in mind, I thought it would be interesting to give up orgasms, with a slight catch.  No orgasms during the 40 weekdays of Lent.  On the weekends, while orgasms would be allowed, they could only be ruined orgasms.  How many ruined per weekend?  Well, that is up to the couple.  And I am sure that others have thought of this, but I hadn’t observed it before.  So, from February 22nd until April 8th, no full orgasms and only ruined ones relegated to the weekends.

If I survive this run, maybe we will consider it.

A Fantasy Fulfilled

It was a busy day, to say the least.  It started with CBT and ended with a fantasy fulfilled, for NW…and myself as well.

During the course of the day, NW, several times, cornered me and provided some much needed t&d.  Every time she did this, however, it led to CBT.  She was very much in a mood and wanted to see me hurting and know that she was causing it.  So erotic, in a really twisted way.  This involved squeezing them, as a pair and individually, taking them into her mouth and sucking/pulling them, slapping them, hitting them with the back of her hand and punching them, in a controlled manner.  The pain was exquisite.  She has really learned how to drive me to the edge and hurt me in a manner that allows the pain to be pleasurable, at the same time.

More than once I was writhing in pain, right at the cusp of what I could endure.  Were it not for my ability to thrash about, grab things and maul NW, I don’t know that I could have endured it.  My balls are still, hours later, aching and buzzing from it.

To get to the main point here, however, we go to the evening.  We retired to the bedroom and warmed one another up.  Petting, stroking, tweaking, just driving up want and arousal.  At this point, we started diving into NW’s fantasy.  It started with her on her back, legs spread.  A flogger was used to caress her body and warm it up for what was to follow.  The strokes became harder and she had a few orgasms from it, as I directed the flogger to her exposed pussy, after having reddened her breasts.  The orgasms were part of the plan.  I needed her heady and wanting, if we were to push past her limits. 

I had her roll over and started on her ass.  She lifted it, to meet the flogger falls and to expose her pussy to it.  More orgasms and harder strokes, until I was flogging her as hard as I could.  The pain was obvious and she was teetering on the edge of finding no pleasure in it.  But the flogger was not going to be enough.

I swapped to the cane.  Oh how she hates it.  Twelve to fifteen hard strokes later and I abandoned it.  Her ass was crossed with welts and bruises.  Those always make me nervous.  But I had given her all that she could willingly handle, so it was a good stopping point, for the cane.  Throughout all phases I checked with her, made her look at me and confirmed that she was okay.  I, intermittently, provided her orgasms, to keep pleasure involved and to, hopefully, take the edge off of what she was experiencing and would.

Clothespins on her nipples were replaced with alligator clips.  Then came a biggie.  After a few more painful flogger strokes, I brought her to orgasm again.  Then, an alligator clip was placed directly on her clit, the hood pulled back.  This is something that she feared, deep down, but had so wanted to conquer.  As the pain rocketed through her, she winced, tensed, writhed and sounded the pain.  It was difficult to watch, so I began stimulating the little bit of her clit that rode above the clip.  She orgasmed, hard.  She squirted.  Four times I brought her off.  Four times she squirted.  So much pain, but she couldn’t stop cumming, even with the slightest stimulation.  After about a minute, I removed the alligator clips from her clit and nipples and sucked each of them.  Each time, she had an orgasm.

But the main event was yet to happen.  After talking with her, it was obvious that her fantasy demanded more.  She said that she was ready for it.  So I pressed on.  I had her on her back, legs spread.  Using a one and three-quarter inch leather belt, twice doubled, as my tool, I moved in.  Twenty-five, hard, strokes, directly onto her vulva.  The belt was just wide and long enough to cover the entire area.

She survived it.  Only twice did she try to close her legs.  I had forced them back open.  After the twenty-third stroke, she shot up from the bed and into my arms.  She told me that she could not take anymore.  She was nearly crying.  Her breathing was frantic.  She was in severe pain.  I told her, “It’s only two more strokes.  Surely you can handle two more.”  She, most reluctantly, got back into position.  Two more, hard, strokes fell.  I moved immediately to the bed and held her.  She was shaking and heady.  After a moment, though, she rolled on top of me, held me tight and said, “thank you”.

We lay there, holding one another and talking, for a couple of moments.  I asked her if it had been enough.  She hesitated.  Then she said, “I didn’t even cry”.  I asked her if she needed more.  She hesitated again, said she was scared, but wanted it.  She assumed the position again.  She knew what was coming…twenty-five more strokes.  She was ready.  Or so she thought.

After the fifth stroke, she closed her legs.  Every three of four strokes, even when going at a slower pace, I had to forcibly open her up to it.  By twelve, she was done.  She told me she couldn’t take it.  She thrashed.  She tried to keep her legs closed.  She tried to roll away.  She begged me to stop, with an anguished, teary plea.  But I kept forcing her legs open and continued the assault.  She wept pain seared tears.  I hurt, but kept going until we had hit all twenty-five.

I immediately dropped the belt and climbed on top of her.  Her arms shot around me and pulled me tight.  Her breathing was ragged, the pain obvious, the tears very real.  I told her that we were done.  If she needed more than that, she would have to do it herself.  I had long since left my comfort zone and was going forward on what I felt she wanted.  Was it fun to administer so much pain?  Yes.  But not necessarily to my wife, even though she wanted it.  I needed to make sure that she was okay.  That she knew that I loved her.  That I was there to take care of her and comfort her.

She knew.  Her breathing calmed, but her grip on me did not.  Through the torrent that she was experiencing, she said it again…”thank you”.  It was heartfelt and sincere.  I knew that she had gotten what she wanted, even if it was the last thing on earth that she wanted, while going through it.  She was happy. 

I must have given her, at least, a dozen more orgasm, after that.  She had experienced what she wanted.  Now, I wanted to make it all go away.  But some things can’t be soothed and orgasmed away.  Her labia were swollen, pretty drastically.  No bruising, yet, but it looked like she had a saline injection.  Evidence that I had, indeed, taken her over the edge and into the realm of fantasy.  But a sight that sat in my gut like a rock.  At least, until this morning.  I had her ice her  abused pussy, last night.  She took an ibuprofen.  This morning, the swelling is down.  It is not gone, but less than half of what it was last night.

Normally flat labia

It doesn’t appear that the bruising will be bad.  Her entire vulva is a darker red/purple, but not like a deep bruise.  What bruises there are, are tiny ones, scattered about, from the tips of the flogger.  She is okay.  So, I am okay.  It was not easy for either of us.

Could I do this again?  Probably.  It is my hope, though, that her want of this is not a close friend.  Though, no doubt, she will want it again.  For now, let it be enough that she was taken beyond her limits and her fantasy has been fulfilled.