I imagined how Hawkeye felt after losing her. I imagined myself crying as I made my way down the cliff to her lifeless body. I sobbed and sobbed, while she lay cold on the ground. Then, I lifted up her shirt and began to touch her in ways that she would never let me if she were alive. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn’t help myself. Soon, I was stripping her down naked.
As I took my pants off, I looked around. The guardian of the Soul Stone wasn’t there. Good. I inserted my ***** into her still-warm ******. It felt so good. It was a feeling I haven’t felt in a while. I began thrusting, and as I did, I played with her nipples as if they were the joysticks of my PlayStation controller.
After 2 minutes, they still weren’t hard. I took the Soul Stone out of my back pocket and rubbed them all over with it. They became sharp as needles. After five minutes of thrusting, I finally came. I came over and over again.
But I wasn’t done. I moved over to her mouth. I inserted my ***** and clamped her jaw down on it. I drew blood. I winced from the pain as I thrusted down into her throat. I came again, this time spraying it all over her face.
By this time, the security guards had kicked me out of the theater and put me in the back of a police car. I came all over the inside.
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