Boobgasm Bonnie

We sat next to each other on the living room couch and I continued to hold her hands. Maybe she was reassured by me holding her hands; maybe she was desperate; whatever it was she opened up to me. By the time that Bonnie got back fifteen minutes later I had learned some disturbing things, and confirmed that I REALLY did not like Ralph. Just as Bonnie was coming in the garage door I looked Julie straight in the eye and said "If I can ever help with Ralph - let me know. I mean it. There are things in my past that make me able to handle any physical situation, so don't hesitate to call."

The last statement obviously was a surprise to her. Once I started junior college I never told anyone about my MMA experience, not even Bonnie. I was just an average Joe to them when in reality any welterweight real MMA fighter can kick the shit out of 99% of guys off the street, no matter what their size, and I was no exception.

****************

After the information I got from Julie I did the research that I related at the start of this story. It took me a couple of days on the Internet and two phone discussions with recognized "sex experts," to gather it all. When I was done I felt like a veil had been lifted from my face. I had no fucking idea that boobgasms were possible or the small percentage of women who came from penile intercourse alone.

I needed to test Bonnie to see if her cries of pleasure when I sucked her nipples and tit-fucked her were suppressed orgasms. That very night I vigorously sucked one of Bonnie's nipples while I lightly pinched and twisted the other one. When I didn't stop at my normal spot but kept on going I could feel her losing control. It was clear that she was holding back having a mammoth orgasm but when I continued she couldn't help herself and soon spasmed with a banshee scream.

Yeah, that clearly was a boobgasm.

I wasn't done yet, though. Once she partially recovered, I lotioned her tit valley and started stroking with my cock. Once she started chirping instead of moving my cock to her pussy I kept tit fucking. She pushed her tits together harder and harder, her eyes fluttered uncontrollably, and when I came on her chin and chest she again spasmed and screamed. She then went limp, and laid there moaning.

I had one more test to perform. Since she was almost out of it I figured that she couldn't fake a pussy orgasm, so I first tongued her clit. I did enough tonguing that any woman who had an orgasm from clitoral stimulation would have climaxed, but she didn't. By then my cock was rock hard again, so I turned her over and ran it up her pussy. I fucked myself to orgasm, and she barely reacted.

I had one set of the answers I needed. While Bonnie was somewhat chagrined the next morning after her two boobgasms, I didn't make a big deal about it and pretended that I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

Now, to answer my second set of questions, I had to figure out what was going on with Bonnie and "others." I decided not to confront her about her boobgasms and the fact that she was obviously faking her penile intercourse orgasms. More important to me was the high probability that other guys were sucking her tits, something that I wouldn't stand for. Foremost in my mind was her penchant for "parsing" her words, and her statement to me that no one would ever stick their dick in any of her holes while we were married. She obviously was avoiding saying anything about getting her tits sucked - or maybe even fucked - and/or also giving handjobs.

I couldn't figure out where she would be getting her boobies sucked, though. Certainly not at work, since her career was very important to her and the last thing that she needed was to be fired as an associate attorney for inappropriate activities at work. She was with me almost every night and almost all weekend. By process of elimination that left only the health club and her infrequent bar trips with her coworkers.

I first dealt with the health club. I hired a female P. I. who joined Bonnie's health club and worked out exactly when Bonnie did. After just one week - four sessions - she had a disturbing report. According to the PI, at the end of each session Bonnie and a male trainer or customer would go into a private "workout/massage" room. They would come out fifteen or twenty minutes later with smiles on their faces, and looking more disheveled and sweaty than when they went into the room. I asked the PI to plant a camera in that room - to be activated only when Bonnie was in the room.

"You know that you can't use anything caught on the camera in court, don't you?" she told me.

"I will never even tell anyone that I have anything from the camera. I'll just use it for my own purposes," I replied.

By the end of the next week I had what I needed - it was not what I wanted, but it was what I needed.

Monday morning a muscle bound trainer that the PI identified as Jake sucked her tits while she jacked him off with her hands. They both had orgasms. Wednesday morning it was a customer named Bill. He got the same treatment as Jake. Thursday morning it was another customer named Kurt, who got all the sucking he wanted, but didn't get a handjob; I don't know why she discriminated against him. Saturday morning she entertained another trainer named Flint. I guess he was her favorite because he fucked her tits and ejaculated all over her chest and chin.

None of them got a dick in any of her orifices, but somehow that wasn't much comfort to me.

I loved Bonnie, and loved being married to her, so I chose how to proceed carefully. I decided a two pronged approach was the best; deal with the guys first to scare them and others off, then confront Bonnie and get her to reform her behavior. I acted quickly.

Sunday morning, less than twenty four hours after I got the videos from the PI, I went to Jake's apartment. Since he was by far the biggest of the guys, and according to the PI had an over-inflated opinion of his toughness and was homophobic, I wanted to deal with him first. Beyond my wildest expectations he went to a nearby coffee house that had video surveillance. I taped one arm to my side so that with my sport jacket on it would look like I had only one arm, but had the arm taped loosely enough so that I could release it with minimal effort if I really needed to. Then I followed him into the coffee house.

Once Jake sat down with his latte - clearly in view of a camera - I walked over to him.

"So you're the asshole sucking my wife's tits," I said as nastily as I could.

"Who the fuck are you?" was his belligerent response.

"Why, are you sucking so many married women's tits that you don't know that I'm Bonnie's husband, asshole?"

"She can do what she wants fuckstick," he snarled.

"Maybe she can but after I knock all your teeth out you won't be sucking anything without pain for quite a while."

"Get lost little one-armed man before I kick your ass."

"I don't think that you can - in fact I'm really surprised that you suck her tits. I thought that a fag like you would be sucking cocks. Maybe you just suck tits for a change of pace."

That got him - as it would most homophobes. This was going to be fun, not only getting revenge for him sucking Bonnie's tits, but also allowing me to vent a little rage for the way that my gay brother had been treated by assholes like Jake all through High School. Of course he couldn't resist throwing the table aside - spilling his latte - and punching me. I made sure that it was only a glancing blow, and took a dive when it hit so that it looked like he had really tagged me. As I lay on the ground I snarled "You really are a fag, aren't you; my kid sister hits harder than that."

He raised his right leg to stomp me. I kicked his left leg out from him with my right leg. His big body fell almost in slow motion, slowly enough that I was able to kick him in the balls with my left foot as he was falling down. Then I flipped up on my feet (hard to do with only one arm, but I was so stoked that I managed it) and then kicked him square in the mouth, sending several teeth flying. I was hoping that he would get up so that I could beat him some more, but given his weight I think that when he landed on the floor he really got hurt, and he apparently was intimidated by his own blood and teeth spread out everywhere.

When I was sure that he wasn't getting up I yelled for the startled barrister to call 911. We were only ten blocks away from a police station so the cops were there fast. I explained what happened, the barrister and two customers backed me up, and I got the cops to get the CD that the camera was recording on. I also filed a complaint against Jake for assault.

I told the EMTs that arrived to be sure to pick up his teeth - three were out, and five more really loose - in case a plastic surgeon could reattach him. They took a chagrined Jake - who wouldn't even make eye contact with me - to the hospital.

The cops were amazed. They thought that I had only one arm. They got my contact information from me and told me that pending their review of the CD I could leave, and that my complaint would be processed.

I did have a bruise where he hit me in the face - it would only last a few days.

*******************

When I got home Bonnie was shocked.

"What happened to you, Hon?" she asked while stroking the bruise on my cheek.

"Oh, I got tagged by your friend Jake before I kicked the shit out of him. Jake - you know the guy who sucks your tits and that you give a handjob to on Mondays."

Her face turned ashen for a few seconds and her jaw dropped. She regained composure after about ten seconds and replied. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, darling, or do you have so many tit-suckers or fuckers that you can't keep them straight. Let me refresh your recollection. Jake on Monday, Bill on Wednesday, Kurt on Thursday - only for some reason he doesn't rate a handjob; and then Flint on Saturday. He must be your favorite since he gets a tit fuck."

This time when the color drained from her face she didn't recover, but collapsed onto a chair.

"Bonnie, honey, I want you to go visit Jake in the hospital. He's at First Memorial. When you come back from there we're going to talk."

"I—uh—I don't want to see him," she moaned.

I got her jacket from the front closet, got her purse from the kitchen table, handed her her car keys, and said "I don't give a fuck if you want to or not. Go see him now and when you come back we WILL talk." Then I ushered her slumping body out the front door and locked it behind her.

Despite what I considered clear cheating, regardless of her parsing of words, I still wanted to be married to Bonnie. I loved her, she was fun (when not cheating), and the sex with her was great. But I would not tolerate any more extracurricular activities on her part.

Bonnie returned about two hours later, quite subdued.

"How's Jake doing?" I asked, in a tone indicating that I didn't really give a shit but wanted to initiate a conversation.

"He has to have a little reconstructive surgery, and he feels sore all over. Are you really going to press an assault complaint against him?" she replied.

"Why wouldn't I?" I chuckled. "He hit me and knocked me down in front of witnesses and a camera."

"He said that you provoked him by calling him a fag."

"I can't help it that he has a real character flaw - his homophobia. He can tell that to the judge," I snickered.

"Why does he think that you have only one arm?"

"Maybe he was drunk. Of course unless he had some problem a little guy like me could never possibly hurt a big strong man like him. Maybe I should be afraid when they release him from the hospital," I responded, with sarcasm dripping from my lips.

"Tom...I...uh...I don't know what to say about what was going on...I..." Bonnie mumbled, failing to meet my gaze.

"I told you that we were going to have a little talk, Bonnie. I guess that technically wasn't the truth. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and then I'm going to tell you what is going to happen. You're either going to go along with it, or get out. Capire? "

She looked startled and wide-eyed, but nodded her head "yes."

"First, why would you not tell me that you only orgasm from tit play, and never from penile intercourse or even clitoris stimulation? Second, why the fake orgasms when I fucked your pussy? Third, why would you get boobgasms from other guys and not seek them from me?" I asked, with significant irritation in my voice.

She paused a long time before answering; long enough that I said "Well?" twice before she finally did.

"I...I didn't want you to think me weird and I know how much you enjoy fucking my pussy. I just wanted to make you happy. I...I let those other guys suck my tits because it made me feel really good, and I didn't think that it would hurt you since you're the only one who got to stick his dick in any of my orifices," she said, between sobs.

I probed a little further but got nothing else from her. Either she was really telling the truth - and was emotionally fucked up - or I was never going to get it from her, so I dropped it.

"Let me tell you what is going to happen now. First, you're quitting your present health club immediately. Second, I'm going to find your fuck buddy Flint and kick the ever lovin' shit out of him. He won't fare as well as Jake did."

She interrupted with a pleading "Please don't hurt anyone else. It was my fault, not theirs. They couldn't resist."

That was probably true, but I didn't care. "Shut the fuck up and listen!" I barked. When her eyes were cast back to the ground I continued. "Third, you're going to come up with a way to make me comfortable enough to trust you again, and if you do I won't kick the shit out of Bill and Kurt. If you don't come up with a way, we're splitting up and I will smack them good. If you want to divorce then we can do it right now and you're free to have every guy you meet suck your honkers."

"I don't want to split up," she cried. Then she tried to come to me. I held her off with an outstretched arm. "Then you've got a week to figure out a way for me to trust you. In the meantime I'm going to fuck your pussy whenever I feel like it, but no tit play. Got it?"

She dejectedly nodded her head "yes."

"What do you want me to make you for dinner, and do you want to watch a movie afterward?"

"Yes please," she timidly responded.

"I should have everything ready in an hour," I said. She shuffled upstairs and I heard the bathtub running.

We talked about anything except our issue that night, and snuggled as we watched the movie - which I let her pick out. When she was naked while changing into a teddy, I picked her up, carried her over to the padded chair in our bedroom, bent her over it, and started to stroke her pussy. Because I avoided her tits her pussy never got wet, and she really had no reaction. I got out some lube because there was no way that I could dry-hole her, and fucked her pussy good. I had a nice orgasm and blew a giant wad into her pussy. She didn't fake an orgasm and had no reaction except a few pleasure grunts.

I know that she called her suck-buddies to warn them about me. When I went to the health club that she had belonged to at her regular time on Wednesday and asked for Flint, I was told that he was no longer employed there. I asked for Jake and was told that he had had an "accident" and wouldn't be back until the next Monday.

While waiting to see what Bonnie would come up with to make me trust her again, I fucked her pussy at least once every day the next week. I got tired of lube by the second time, however, and despite my pledge warmed her up by sucking or fucking her tits to orgasm the rest of the time before fucking her pussy. She didn't fake pussy orgasms, but did try her best to assure me that even though she didn't orgasm that she enjoyed it.

Sunday Bonnie surprised me by what she came up with to deal with my trust issues. After I sucked her tits and fucked her pussy Sunday morning, she said "I hope that you'll accept my plan for getting your trust back. I have something to show you." With that she pulled a really strange contraption out of her bottom dresser drawer.

"What's that?" I asked.

"A chastity bra," she replied with a grin.

I had never heard of a chastity bra. I took it from her and inspected it carefully. I was intrigued by it both as an engineer and a cheated-upon husband. It had two stainless steel cups that looked like they were perfectly sized for Bonnie's boobs, a strap that looked like it would go around the neck, and a horizontal strap that went from one metal cup to the other and looked like it would go around her torso. Between the two metal cups was a metal clasp with a lock. After a thirty second inspection I knew how it worked, but wanted to hear her tell me.

"How does it work?" I asked.

"Like this," she said. She took off her top, put the horizontal strap around her torso and the cups over her tits, put the neck strap around her neck, and then locked the clasp. "See!" she proudly said, with a smile. "This is the only key," she continued, handing it to me.

"Isn't it uncomfortable?" I asked.

"A little," she replied, "but the stainless steel cups are lined with cloth, so it's not really that bad. I certainly can wear it for working out, or when I'm otherwise away from you, although I would prefer not to wear it all day at work.

"And this is the only key," I rhetorically asked.

"Yes, I swear," she responded, raising her right hand. "Also, the lock is tamper-proof. It would take an expert to pick, according to the manufacturer's literature."

"Let me see the literature," I said.

She pulled the literature out of the same drawer that the chastity bra was in. It looked legit. I was going to be sure to call the manufacturer on Monday.

"You can also easily tell if the straps have been tampered with," she said, as she did a little twirl modelling the bra for me.

"Looks good; let's give it a try," I said with a smile. That got an enormous return smile from her.

"One more thing, though. I can't find your buddy Flint. Do you know where he is?"

Her smile turned into a frown. "I'm quite sure that he moved. I warned him and he talked to Jake, and I think that he took your threat seriously, especially after you went to the health club and asked about him. Please don't try to find him. He doesn't deserve a beating, but more importantly I don't want to see you in jail."

*****************

Things went well for about the next six months. Bonnie wore the chastity bra whenever she went to her new health club, and on weekend short excursions, such as shopping or lunch with her friends, without me. When she was going out with people after work she changed into it and sent me a selfie by email with the day's newspaper visible next to her chastity bra. I think that she was expecting me to tell her, after a short period of time, that she needn't wear it anymore, but I wasn't ready for that even after six months.

During that six months sex was even better than before. I really don't know why she didn't tell me about her boobgasms and lack of pussy climaxes earlier. I didn't mind that she didn't orgasm when I fucked her pussy, and I was happy - since I thoroughly enjoyed it too - to suck or fuck her tits to orgasm before I fucked her pussy.

Into the seventh month of Bonnie wearing the chastity bra - she had replaced the cloth liners inside the metal cups several times - I had to go on a rare overnight (actually three nights) business trip. I was debating whether to tell her that she didn't have to wear the chastity bra that whole time when she surprisingly volunteered to wear it. "Won't it be uncomfortable for that length of time?" I asked.

"Actually, I've gotten used to it, and I don't think so. I won't be able to exercise since I couldn't wash my sweaty tits with it on, but I don't mind missing the one day of exercise when you'll be gone to give you peace of mind," she sweetly replied. "That is, assuming that you'll give me a couple of boobgasms just before you leave, to tide me over," she chuckled, while grabbing my crotch.