Savannah picked up the phone and was disgusted by what she heard on the other end. Whoever it was, he had threatened to kill and penetrate her. She was shaken up, but hastily left behind about the “prank” call as she lost herself in a call from a buddy. Then, after a duo glasses of champagne, she was eased, sprawled out on the sofa, rubbing herself.
Shortly, her pawing got more and more explicit. She pulled her underpants to the side and commenced kneading her cooch, leisurely enlargening and intensifying her delectation. Thru her bedroom window, the guy watched--waiting for the right moment to inject. Working herself up to orgasmic energy, her entire assets trembled and shook and her groans, no-- squeals of delight, could be heard thru the walls as she had one of the most strong climaxes she had ever accomplished. Fatigued, she lie on the couch, her head and assets stun with elation.
The dude jimmied the lock on the door and crept in. He had a mask on. It would not matter, but just in case, he had one on. He approached the woman. Her eyes were closed--she was sneering and delicately petting herself. He looked over her. He waited.
Abruptly, she eyed him. Freaking out, she moved this way and that about the apartment, moaning, pleading, praying, begging why, being incoherent, periodically all at once. He had the gun pointed at her--a silencer fastened. He tracked her as she crawled off the sofa, the back on, then off again. Not she stood before him, praying what he wished. He told her, and fired his weapon.
She was defiantly not hoping to be shot--no one ever does. The puny crevasse showed up in her left breast--a spatter of ***** strewn up behind her. She stood--staring at him--perhaps unsuspecting of what happened. Then she knew, and the funk embarked. She was overwhelm with agony, but stood there, pleading him why, why had he done this. He told her, by shooting her again. This time, thru her abdomen. It was like someone kneed her rigid. She looked up at him, arched over, in shock. Why, why, was all she could ask. Call for help, satiate. He told her he could help her. He lifted his gun and shot her again--this time in her right tit.
Now she could scarcely keep her balance. She groaned in anguish and ache as she half crawled, half fell to the sofa. She looked at her attacker all the while--waiting for his next move--dreading it, not understanding why he was doing this. He was keeping her alive, missing her vitals, for now. She was bloody internally. She was dying, just not rapid. She could perceive it. Her circulation was slowing. She was getting cold. She sat on her sofa, sighing powerfully, in numbing ache, experiencing her bod providing in, her head grew strong. Still, she looked up at him, she had to understand---why was he doing this, why won’t he help her.
The anguish was acute, excruciating now, the nausea was hammering her, she fell forth, but ****** herself to stay upright and conscious. Perhaps looking at him, reminding him she was a living person would save her. She was so close to him, she could sense his assets warmth. She looked up at him, asking with her eyes and her words. He brought the apex of the gun forth ever so hardly, letting it lodge into the meat of the top of her right knocker, and shot her again.
This one knocked her back. Her assets convulsed and shook aggressively, she attempted to shriek, but could not--only acute high sounds came out of her gullet. Her arms griped the bedding in knuckles as she shook and rocked her assets. Then, her bladder pulled out, exploding yellow urinate spewed out drenching her comforter and running in floods over the brink of the couch. As he observed this, he knew it would be over briefly. It was time to get what he wished.
After she emptied her bladder and slowed down her grimacing, he crawled up on the couch and pulled her up next to him. She was still coherent, despite all her scars. She attempted to budge, forearms flopping around, attempting to speak. He did not care. He groped her figure, up and down, sensing her super-steamy cooter thru her moist stained underpants. Then he raised her up on top of him and slid his trouser snake into her humid coochie and commenced boinking her.
He ravaged the dying female for a while, perceiving her get weaker and weaker until he knew it was time to complete her. He reach around her, lining up his muzzle and shot her inbetween the bumpers. She responded with a jack, but this time slowed promptly. He hiked her off his highly swell fuck-stick and let her flop forth on the sofa, ***** running in rivulets out of her throat. She yanked for a while longer, then she was dead.
He glided his fuckpole back in and smashed her dead assets some more, switching postures until eventually jizzing all over her belly.
Weakened and knowing that it was late and no one would come, he lodged in beside her for the night. The next morning, he woke up to a splendid dead dame. She was gawping blankly, just a ooze of ***** coming out of each of her Five bullet welts and jaws. He toyed with her dead figure some more, wringing her flawless mounds, pawing her vulva thru her underpants. Then, he pulled her underpants off and fondled his frigs right on her muff. He was highly rock-hard, so he repositioned himself and slipped his lollipop into her hatch. He screwed her jaws for a while, then determined he desired to drill her one more time before he left.
He repositioned her so that her head was at the sole of the sofa. He shoved her gams up then slipped his bone deep inwards her coochie, humping her stiff until bursting all over her tummy and hefty, bullet-riddled baps. He got up, got dresses and left, leaving her dead on the couch, ***** around the bullet fuckholes
he made in her--little trails of ***** running away from them. He got want he dreamed from her--PLEASURE!!!
Runtime : 35min 23s
File Size : 690 MB
Resolution : 768x432
Download snuff porn Peachy Keen Films-Murdered for PleasurePeachy_Keen_Films-Murdered_for_Pleasure_xxxrape.net.wmv - 690.3 MBPeachy_Keen_Films-Murdered_for_Pleasure.wmv