Peachy Keen Films-Little Runaway

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Little Runaway. Starring Kirsten. Directed by JohnM

She was just a youthfull thing, very likely hardly eighteen, a tiny runaway that he picked up at the bus station. He out their oftentimes, it was one of his hunting lands. This was flawless. She needed to get from Sacramento to Pensacola, but was about $70 brief. Well, he swooped right in. He would help her. He would help her, but she had to do a lil' something for him.

He was a slick talker, a sociopath by any definition, and, something else,--she would shortly find out.

She was bashful, her voice was high, with hardly cracked speech--no wonder she ran away from home. What happened to her when she was a young--who knows. Her could guess however, and that made her flawless for his lil' game.

On the sofa, she lay there and he massaged her so delicately, cautiously...he did not want her to scare, he enjoyed to keep them quiet.

He got her to give him head. That was adorable. She did ok, she was so youthfull compared to him, it heightened the practice for him. Then it was time for sex--she actually offered it...she was antsy, she needed to catch her bus, she dreamed her money so she could go him and watch her parents, her puppy, her lil' step-brother. The violins were toying.

She was a cherry. This was flawless. They were uncommon at this age, but he would take it, take her, for the first-ever time. A tiny view came out when he bankrupt her hymen. There was agony, dissatisfaction in her face. It got a lil' finer for her, she away looked clumsy. It was fine for him as he shot his blast up inwards her cock-squeezing, moist vag.

They were don, she sits calmly on the sofa, looking so broken and harmless. She asks for her money, she has to go now.

He pulls his gun out of the dresser, flips around and shoots her dead.

The hold showed up in the middle of her pecs. It was a massive fuckhole. He had a gigantic gun. She flew back. Yanked. Then, she was still. She had a super-cute gaze, her hatch scarcely open. Now he could have some more time with her.

He called it in. He worked at the morgue. It was the finest job. He found her on the side of the road, new, he made up a story and he brought her in. It was late, no one was around.

Apartment 8 was his beloved. Calm, except for the construction upstairs.

He got to work on her, nothing official he needed to do truly, he was just a gopher with an access pass after all. It helps to have a father who is an administrator. He liked his life.

He toyed around, mockingly doing the report on her. He said on the phone when he called it in that it looked like an OD. They will laugh that he missed the immense gunshot wound to her pecs. Oh well, he was captivating, they always forgave him. Maybe next time he will poison the girl--he switches it up from time to time.

He gave her a rapid mock check-up, but indeed his interest was in her. Her figure was so ultra-cute. He luved the entire process. He found this highly alive chick, so harmless, she just desired to go home..awwww. Then, he took her purity away and took her life away. Now he would take anything else that remained. That is what he enjoyed and he set about investigating her, deepthroating and eating her. He glided his bone into her throat and poked it. Then, he poked her again. He came all over her in a phat surge, decorating her from cooch to face.

He cleaned her up, got her straightened out, then said his goodbyes. It was time to go, find another. He did not always kill them, in fact, most he did not. But, he undoubtedly enjoyed taking advantage of them, of the guiltless. Violating them was half the joy. He could kill them anytime. Killing people was so effortless. It was the other stuff that was the compete. He bid her farewell and left.