Gunner’s Three-Part Plan

Amateur

Every word of this story is true.

“Sorry I didn’t answer your text the other day, I was out of town. Did you get out of your skirt?” Gunner inserted himself beside me at the crowded bar and slid his arm around my waist.

“Yes, no thanks to you,” I snuggled up against him.

“So, tell me how do you get stuck in a skirt?”

“When I went to take it off the zipper handle broke and I couldn’t get it to move. I needed to use both my hands to hold the skirt together and you to unzip it with a pair of pliers.”

“Sorry I missed out.”

“Here’s my phone number, give me a call, day or night if this happens to you again.” The drunk next to me shoved a bar napkin in my direction.

Gunner and I moved out to the patio to enjoy the band along with our bucket of beers. After some great music, some catching up with friends and a phone number from a drunk, we ended the night upstairs in Gunner’s room. Gunner lives above the coolest bar in town, Suds. He hasn’t gotten a DUI since this move.

I shifted the pile of laundry on Gunner’s bed and noticed a new shirt. Gunner is a big man, 6’6″ and very broad, some of it is fat these days, but a lot of it is just the fact that he is a big guy. He works as a bouncer at some of Suds’ events like street dances and such. They have their security wear matching shirts and they usually have something funny on the back. This one said, “When I read about tuzla escort the evils of drinking I gave up reading!” I had to have this. I am a librarian and the irony was too much to pass up.

“Can I have your new shirt?”

“No. That is my favorite shirt.”

“Please, it’s like it was made for me!”

“No,” and he removed my shirt and began chewing on my nipples…

As we relaxed after sex, Gunner said, “you can have the shirt, but it will be a three-part process including anal.”

I have not told Gunner this because he likes to control me, but I crave anal. This way he thinks he is winning something when really I am!

“Uh, I guess.”

“Anal or no shirt.”

“What else do I have to do?”

“We’ll talk about that next week.”

~~Next week~~

“First we start off with a blow job.” Gunner laid back on the bed and waited for me to climb on, “and take your clothes off. All of ’em.”

I pulled my hair out of the way and started licking Gunner’s cock. He has maybe seven inches with a little curve to it. The perfect cock, in my book. I ran my nipple from the base of his cock to the tip, then I grasped the base and ran my tongue around the tip. I glanced up to meet Gunner’s eyes and looked directly into his phone.

“Are you kidding me?”

“You want the shirt?”

I turned back to the matter at hand and began working my mouth down Gunner’s cock. Occasionally tuzla escort bayan he would instruct me to look at the camera and play with my titties for him. I worked my way down his cock, gagging a little as I slid the whole thing into my mouth. I licked and sucked and nodded my head and hummed, all the tricks I knew to give him a great blow job. After five minutes or so he put his phone away and had me turn over.

He slid into my wet cunt and started fucking me. I could feel his balls slap my ass as he pushed deeper and deeper into me. He put my legs over his shoulders and pounded away. I clung to Gunner’s arms for dear life as he screwed me. Next, he moved to his side and we fit together like a pair of scissors. I bucked my pussy against his leg rubbing my clit on him and hoping for release.

With a simple “your turn,” he flipped on his back. I climbed on him and sat on his wide hips enjoying his cock entering me from this angle, the curve of his dick pushing his head up against the front wall of my pussy. He put his hands on my thighs and started rocking me back and forth. My tits bounced furiously with the movement. After several minutes of my clit rubbing his pelvic bone I came with a cry of pleasure.

“Now it’s my turn.” Gunner moved me to the end of the bed to a standing position with my legs spread. I felt the cold lube hit my ass and a finger working it in. With a “spread your escort tuzla cheeks honey,” he was in. He moved slowly at first, letting my taboo hole learn to accept his dick. When I was loose enough, he stepped up his pace digging his fingers into my hips as he pushed into me mercilessly.

I was fingering myself and riding the edge of another orgasm, “Oh, god, oh, oh, oh,” I cried as he pushed into me with no relent. As my orgasm subsided, he withdrew and came all over my ass.

Gunner handed me a towel to dry off with and we basked in the afterglow, our bodies entwined.

“That was two, what is left for me to get the shirt?”

“You have to wear my bra when we walk downstairs.”

“I can’t just wear that bra!” Technically, it is my bra, but Gunner thinks of it as his since he likes it so much.

“No, you can put a shirt on, but you have to drink a beer with me before you go and show everyone your nipples. Then you have earned the shirt.”

I call this bra my Gunner special. It is a leopard print shelf bra, which gives me lots of support and cleavage but leaves my tits out from the nipples up. I arranged my breasts in this bra to their fullest advantage and slipped a low-cut top over. As expected, my nipples poked out shamelessly.

We went downstairs reeking of sex and had one more beer at the bar, next to my helpful drunk friend who handed me his number again, “just in case.”

Gunner and I have moved on, but I still have the shirt as a fond memory of him. He still has the video and I expect I am on the internet somewhere, giving Gunner a blowjob for a shirt. If you see it, let me know!

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