And everyone in your clan knows it. And even your family knows it. Even though every single one of them think you are a hero for it, including me. You...can't admit to killing the worthless fucking son of a bitch that raped and murdered our girlfriend. Choked on his own dick? How ironic. Just like Tommy Westerling has three broken ribs, a broken nose, and a broken arm. How similar to what he did to me. It wasn't irony. You caught that bastard masturbating on our girlfriend's grave. You knocked. Ann started to moan, not from the minimal entry but from the anticipation of what was to come. Another inch and another. Victor unzipped his pants. His cock was rock hard. He had seen Rhonda repeat this exercise many times but he never got tired of it. He fondled his erection. “Give her some more my darling” he rasped. Rhonda smiled as a couple of inches more slipped into Ann’s quivering sex. “Are you ok honey” Rhonda asked, concerned. But she needed have been. Ann now moaned and groaned as her. More

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