I have a bra on," I said helpfully. "I noticed. Might I remove that, too?" "Gunner," I said sternly, or as sternly as a person could while she stood in a man's castle, her hands full of his ass. "You've got your hands on my boobs, and your tongue down my cleavage. At this point if I'm not yelling for the police, you can probably take it for granted that you have my consent to remove my bra." "I like to make sure," he said, pulling his head out of my breasts for a moment. "Some women have limits.