Indian Pink

As we started to get on our way I noticed the cop leave toward the direction of the on ramp. I kept my observations to my self while pulling out of the small parking lot. As we rode I saw lights in my rear view mirror and revved up my bike signaling Eagle to look. We started pulling over and they drove right past us. I looked over to Renagade, and raised my shoulders. He did the same back and we kept on riding. The group started slowing as I stood up and saw about 5 cop cars up ahead pulling. Standing in the mist of the red shower was John, naked and very clearly dead. She could see a long, ugly wound from the base of his neck down to his left pectoral. When he moved, his entire torso seemed to slide along that deep cut. She frantically realized that if he were to get moving too much he might just split into two separate pieces. The dead man laughed Mary was wheezing now. John’s eyes were gone, about that she had been right. His face was smeared red while the gaping eye sockets. Her cunt was spewing much more of her vaginal fluids than usual however, drenching my face as I gasped for air. I knew we’d be changing the bed sheets, even the mattress topper, after this. “OOOOHHHHH!” my wife now grimaced, her entire body writhing on our bed. “It’s coming!” she cried out. “Yeah,” I encouraged as I continued to orally attack and manually stroke inside her sex, seeking to prolong this powerful orgasm for her . . . as my probing fingers now felt something new. It was hard and. She just moaned inaudibly, and I said, “That fucking cunt is going to love the things I am going to do tonight!” I reached behind me and turned the water off as I tried to plunge a second finger into her. Her moans just increased not only in volume but length as well. Finally, she almost collapsed as the wave of her first orgasm splashed into my hand. I had to hold her literally up as her legs weakened. I kissed her slowly again and gave her a hug as we rejoiced in each other’s pleasure for a.
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