Peachy Keen Films-Fuck Her Corpse 5

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Fuck Her Corpse 5. Don't Bring a Knife to a Gun Fight. Starring Ashlee

Ashlee dreamed vengeance. The douchebag she was humping right now, had murdered her husband--had him killed by his dog collar of thugs. This fellow, the dude whose man rod she deepthroated and entire she was now getting her brains humped out by--was the head crime manager.

After the fucky-fucky, she went off to freshen up.

He knew there was something habitual about her. He couldn't place it, but checked her purse. He pulled out the 357 revolver and squirted it.

She came back. They collective a guzzle and now the conversation got interesting. She was pleading him about his work---about what he did. He attempted to be vague, but she shoved, and he figured she must know anyhow.

She did.

She got up, reached into her purse and had the gun pointing right at his head. She blabbered something about killing her spouse and how she had dual insurance. He didn't care. He just flashed her the bullets right after her gun went "click".

She was romped.

He caned an Uzi out, pointing right at her. She just grinned, pulled at a dinking boning switchblade knife. She had ball-sac, he thought. Then, he fired.

She crashed rigid to the ground, but was still alive. All the rounds went into her tummy. She controlled to get back up, still holding the knife. Rat-tat-tat--he let her have it again, this time cramming up her right knocker.

Down again she went, but still, she controls to stand back up.

He sweeps her via the abdomen--figuring that will conclude her. But, leisurely, with anguish and sweat, she controls to get up--stands before him, spasming, determined--holding that knife.

Three final shots in the center of her pecs, and she was down. Dead. Not gonna get back up this time.

He porked her on the sofa a duo ways until he webcam on her booty.

Afterwards, back at his office, he realized what she had meant by dual insurance. He hastily called his men to go delve her up and bring her to him.

She was sitting in a tabouret packaged in a milky bloodstained sheet when he arrived from lunch. he looked her over. What a filth. He tilted her head forward--cum poured out. His boys must have plowed her every-way before unloading her.

He looked her over--searched for whatever she had. She was in rigger.

Inspecting on of her soles, he detected it. A micro recorder. She had meant to bait him into a confession. She must have known she was on a suicide mission. He respected her for that---she had cojones.

He had her taken to the morgue and cleaned up. He arrived a few hours afterward to sight her over. She was so enrapturing to him--even in death. He had to have her. So, he boned her again, a few ways until he came all over her stomach. Then he left.