First I’d have you tied up, to begin with, but release you with a gun on you. I’d make you strip for me, showing off each and every inch of your skin that belongs to me. I’d have you bend over and show me how wet you are, before sliding a finger or two and my tongue into you, tasting how good you are. I’d bury my face and fingers inside of you from behind while you ride my face until you make a big mess all over my ginger beard and face.
Then when you’re shaking and wet and pushing me away, I’d slide into you inch by slow, torturous inch until I’m buried inside you and take a fist full of your hair from behind, the gun pressed against the back of your skull. If you fought too hard, I’d flip you over, wrap one strong hand around your throat, and pound into you making you keep eye contact with me until you cum again, the barrel of my gun pressed against your forehead before leaving bite marks and kisses along your throat and jaw while I claim your body.