Thread: El Cereso Prison (Steel Butterfly & Adam)

When Joanne declared that she was in fact not the angel of the murdered Julia, the old man froze. He hardly reacted to the loud slap across his cheek, and instead just stood there on his knees like a petrified statue as his deluded mind tried to puzzle together the pieces and understand what was happening to him. His jaw was hanging open, as if he had forgotten how to close his mouth, and saliva was slowly dropping down from the corner of his mouth. She could easily move his limp hands away from her bosom, now that his fierce grip on them had turned into nothing. Then suddenly he seamed to realize where he was and who he was, and most importantly of all what the girl was, or rather what she was not. The dull, dry film that had covered his yellowed eyes were gone, and when he for the first time focused them upon the human being right in front of her instead of his imagined past beyond her, they shone with a fiery anger mixed with cold determination. His hands broke free of hers, and before she could even draw her breath he had them firmly gripping around her neck. He still gave her enough room to breath, but only barely, and given the strength his hands seemed to possess it was hardly because he couldn't squeeze harder but because he wanted to keep her with him longer. Using only his grip around her throat, he easily threw the light girl up on his bed like if she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He got up on the bed after her, standing on his knees between her spread out legs. His pants had been pushed down by the rubbing, and his large, crocked penis was fully erect. You are not an angel! he shouted, his horse voice cracking as he yelled louder. You are just another demon disguised as my only love so you can lure me to hell! He was banging her head against the bed over and over again, and had it not been for the thin mattress, she would have got a concussion by now. But I will not go to hell yet! I will send you back to the devil, you filthy creature! With those words, he bend down over her, still with his boney digits entrenched around her throat. Suddenly she could feel the warm and hard head of his dick brushing against the lips of her pussy. It was already wet from a mix of precum and sweat. Return to hell! he roared like a worked up preacher in the climax of the sermon, and at the same time he thrust his thick manhood into her petite little body. It strained her pussylips and forced her open as he sank it all the way into her until it was stretching her cervix. With surprising vigor, the delusional old man started to pound her pussy with steady, rhythmic thrusts, the sound of his rumpled skin slapping against her soft echoing against the thick concrete walls of the cell. Every time he pushed his throbbing cock deep into her cunt, his grip around her throat tightened and completely cut off the stream of oxygen, just to allow her a quick, light breath while he pulled it out. To begin with it was enough to keep her afloat so she could experience the pain of her pussy being ravaged and the smell of the sweat that dripped down from the old mans body on hers, but as his excitement steadily rose his grip grew tighter and her breaths smaller.