A middle-aged woman was standing next to the bar with a shotgun in one hand and a small ax in the other. She was ranting about "demon rum" and the sin...of drinking alcohol. All of the patrons were cowering behind upset tables, not daring to poke much more than their eyes past that dubious protection. The mirror behind the bar was shattered and the bartender was hunkered down behind the bar. A man was lying on the floor near the woman with blood flowing from a gash on the top of his head.While I. He slid it inside me. The deeper he went, the greater my discomfort. “Just relax, let me in,” he said. I relaxed as best I could as he slowly pumped his cock inside me. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. “A little,” I replied. “Just relax,” he said as he rubbed my clit. “You’re so tight,” he moaned as he thrusted a bit faster. I tried not to focus on the discomfort, instead focusing on his pleasure. I rubbed my tits as the room was filled with our moans and the sound of the creaking bed. “Oh yes,. More

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