Bonnie & Spencer's Dungeon Gangbang
Welcome back to Bonnie and Spencer's Adventures in Group Sex, my lovely perverts! I know it's been far too long since the last chapter, but I promise you this story is worth the wait! My imagination is so naughty I surprised even myself with this one! Be sure to check the tags to make sure you're into what I'm into because this story is VERY KINKY INDEED!
As always, I recommend starting the with the first chapter in the series, but I doubt you'll be too confused as to who's fucking whom if you'd prefer to start here. Although it should be obvious, I will reiterate that these stories are fantasies; nobody needs to worry about STIs or unwanted pregnancies. All the characters are in their 30s or older.
Now without further ado, get ready to squeeze your cocks and rub your clits to the products of my depraved imagination! Happy wanking!
Chapter 1: Life Gets in the Way
They say good things aren't meant to last, and when it came to Airtight Tuesdays, unfortunately "they" were right.
After enjoying six and a half months of weekly foursomes with Mack and Gavin --the two perverts who tended bar at Moonlite Tavern and enthusiastically teamed up to help her boyfriend Spencer fuck her brains out-- Bonnie's surplus cock supply was unexpectedly and unceremoniously cut off by random misfortune. During a particularly frigid snowstorm, the Moonlite's pipes burst, flooding the basement with sewage. Beyond ruining their venue for Airtight Tuesdays, the incident led to the Moonlite closing its doors for the first time in nearly a century. Mack's insurance covered the water damage and mould remediation, but he'd still need to raise additional funds before they could re-open. In the meantime, Gavin had needed to move out of town and Mack was too busy fixing up the bar to do much of anything else.
The flood unhappily dovetailed with a series of challenges facing Spencer and Bonnie, challenges that required the couple to put their group sex ambitions on the back burner until everything else in their lives got sorted out. Spencer was suddenly and unexpectedly laid off as the venture capital firm that bought the legacy sports media outlet he worked for downsized --i.e. replaced a bunch of human journalists like himself with AI-- which meant he now had to subsist on a freelancer's wages and government health insurance.
In the meantime, Bonnie's career was flourishing. She was booked solid for the next 4 months --doing elaborate customs for tattoo models and influencers too, she was finally past taking on the kind of walk-in customers who picked their designs out of a booklet-- and getting tantalizingly close to her dream of opening up her own shop. She was working so many hours --on top of everything else she still worked a couple bartending shifts at Curly's every week-- she barely had time to enjoy her life. Compounding their economic anxieties was the fact that despite the fact that she'd essentially moved into Spencer's condo, Bonnie still hadn't found someone to take over her old lease; meaning she was still paying rent for an apartment she never used.
It hadn't escaped Bonnie or Spencer that these developments were having a deleterious effect on their sex lives. While they both missed the erotic frenzy of their earliest months together, they'd also both admitted to themselves that such passion wasn't sustainable even for a couple with such overwhelming desire for each other. The mood was further dampened when Spencer's grandmother --a kindly, elfin woman who'd helped his mom raise him and remained a steady and reassuring presence throughout his life-- passed away after a long battle with lung cancer. While cohabitation and bonding through grief had brought them closer together as a couple in some ways, neither of them were feeling particularly sexy as their one year anniversary approached.
For Bonnie, it had been the longest period of monogamy she'd ever sustained. Her wild, boy-crazy partygirl side hadn't been tamed exactly, but it had gone dormant for the time being. It didn't help matters that Bonnie had to sacrifice her already limited gym routine and had subsequently put on a bit of weight. She was so overwhelmed that for the first time in her life, she'd neglected to shave her pubic mound or under her arms. Spencer, for his part, was every bit as attracted to this heavier and hairier version of Bonnie. He was entranced by her swaying bosoms (which had grown even larger due to the weight gain), he loved running his hands over her protruding belly and swollen FUPA. Despite his evident desire, however, the combination of exhaustion, grief, and self-consciousness only deepened the sexual rut they'd found themselves in.
After spending a cumulative 70 hours working on a full back piece for an exceptionally persnickety influencer, she'd finished up for the day earlier than expected. All Bonnie wanted to do now was get high, rub some soothing lotion on her aching wrists, and watch a mindless reality tv show while Spencer made her dinner. Upon letting herself in --she had her own key to his place by now-- Bonnie was surprised not to see her boyfriend seated at his desk, at work behind the dual monitors of his PC like usual. After checking the living room and the bathroom, she proceeded down the hall to the bedroom, noiselessly opening the door that had been left slightly ajar.
When she entered the room, Bonnie was greeted with the sight of her pantsless boyfriend, laying supine with two pillows behind his back with his phone in one hand and his hard, lube slickened cock in the other. Initially shocked by the unexpected sight, Bonnie was hit with simultaneous pangs of regret for allowing so much time to pass since she'd last fucked her boyfriend and desire to rectify the situation.
"Watcha watching, babe?" Although Bonnie had tried her best to sound playful, Spencer jolted from shock nevertheless.
"Uhhh, sorry..." he stammered. "I thought you weren't gonna be home until later." He clicked his phone off and set it down on the bedside table, but kept his right hand wrapped around his stiffened cock, pumping slowly up and down as his girlfriend sauntered over to the bed.
"Am I interrupting anything?" she teased, her hungry eyes drawn inexorably towards her boyfriends glistening dick.
"You're a gift from the masturbation gods, baby. I was just thinking how much I'd prefer the real thing."
"You sure you want me and not whichever porno girl you were just jerking off to?" Bonnie was still mostly just toying with him, but the question concealed a kernel of truth. "After all, I'm so much fatter and hairier than when we first met."
"You know I think you're even sexier now than ever before," he reassured her. "Now, stop worrying and come sit on my face!"
Despite her misgivings, Bonnie found herself responding to the hungry look in her boyfriend's eyes and slithered out of her black jeans, which stretched to their maximum capacity as they squeezed around the rotund cheeks of her lusciously fattened ass. They fell to the floor, along with the unflattering but comfortable underwear she wore at work and during the colder months.
Though she kept her legs and arms waxed clean to show off her full-body sleeve tattoos --a tableau of snakes, skulls, Miyazaki-inspired characters and Tim Burton-inspired landscapes-- she'd neglected to shave her underarms or bikini line for at least two months. Soft, curly black hair ran from her pubic mound down to her upper thighs, with a few wispy tufts clinging to her labia and asshole. Spencer claimed to like her this way, but she remained skeptical as she approached the bed, gingerly setting her knees into place on either side of his head.
"I'm all sweaty from work, I wonder if he's gonna think my pussy tastes gross?" she fretted internally as she parted her legs. Her misgivings were silenced when Spencer craned his neck forward to immerse his entire face in the splendor of her dripping cunt, licking her eagerly from the tip of her clit to the rim of her asshole.
"Oh fuck, I am such a lucky girl!" she squealed as Spencer's tongue got to work on her. He knew just how long to tease her clit before suckling on it until she began to convulse, and he knew just when to let up a bit to edge her along further. He knew just when to insert his hooked finger into her dripping love canal and pump until she squirted all over his face.
She moved to kiss him, lapping up her own musky juices off his stubbled face.
Taking hold of his aching member and directing it towards the entrance of her dripping depths, Bonnie slowly eased into position astride her besotted boyfriend. Knowing it likely wouldn't take long for him to erupt inside her after edging for so long, she gyrated her wide hips with rhythmic determination.
"Oh fuck Bonnie, I can't hold off any longer! I'm gonna..." Spencer convulsed like he'd been shocked with a defibrillator and blasted a fat, soupy load deep inside his girlfriend.
"You cream-pied me before I could even take my shirt off, you dirty boy," Bonnie giggled as she doffed her tank top, unclasped her 34GG bra, and released her heaving tits with a satisfying plop. Spencer closed his eyes, narcotized by the sexual release. Without moving out of cowgirl position, Bonne reached over to the bedside table and snatched up his phone before he could react. "Now, let's see what you were watching."
"Baby wait!" Spencer protested, but it was too late. The video began auto-playing as soon as she unlocked the screen. She had expected to see some blonde porn bimbo with fake tits and ten percent body fat, or maybe a trans girl (she correctly suspected he was attracted to their neighbor Francesca) but what she saw instead shocked her.
It was a video of HER. From one of their Airtight Tuesday, maybe eight months ago? It was POV shot of Bonnie, sucking her boyfriend's dick, batting her bright green eyes flirtatiously at the the camera while she was sandwiched between Mack in her pussy and Gavin in her ass. Her boyfriend was jerking off to the memory of their past sexual escapades! She was floored.
On one hand, there was more than a tinge of sweetness to the discovery: Spencer's devotion to her was so deep she had supplanted even pornography in his erotic imagination. On the other hand, she felt a sting of remorse (though no resentment) for the sexual plateau the young couple found themselves on amidst the stressors of their lives. She was wistful for the passion of their early days.
She resolved then and there --with her boyfriend's spent cock still lodged in her cum-filled pussy-- the they both needed to devote more effort to recapturing the magic, romance, and unrestrained debauchery that made their relationship so special.
"Oh baby, you were touching yourself while watching me get fucked?" Bonnie cooed softly.
"Yeah," he admitted, sheepishly. "You are just so fucking sexy, Bonnie." He pushed his elbows back and rose up to kiss her tenderly but with evident hunger. "I want you to sit on my face again, baby. I want to taste you."
She basked in the healing rays of his undying desire for her. Here he was, masturbating to videos of her getting fucked, begging to lap up his own wad from her sloppy love canal.
