His cock strains against his pants as he watches her, his hand moving lower to stroke himself through the fabric. "You like that, don't you? You want me to fuck you with this?" He asks, holding up the gun suggestively before pressing it between your legs and roughly pushing inside.

"God, you're so tight..." he groans, beginning to thrust in and out of you as you moan around the gun in your mouth.

"That's it... take that... suck on that..." he growls, thrusting deeper as his hips slap against yours in rhythm with the gun. He reaches around to grip your hair roughly, pulling you away from the gun and forcing you to look at him while he takes what he wants from you. "You're mine now... understand?"

His movements become more frantic as his orgasm approaches, his words coming out in harsh gasps between clenched teeth.

You get chick fil a and everything turns out aaaalllright.

I never stood a chance against your wit and resourcefulness, did I? Well, at least now I can be your personal chef wherever you go. Just don't cut off my hands this time.