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Jumped like a goalkeeper for the ball, trying to get it out of the nine.
Desperately stretching out my arms, I managed to grab onto the rope.
She twitched under my weight, and went down.

I screamed, and also flew down – but the rope, suddenly stretched, and my fall stopped.
Clinging to it with my hands, I put my feet on the wall, and climbed onto the roof of the building.
I climbed over the parapet and saw something that gave me hope.
It was completely unexpected to see this item on the roof of the church.
It was NOT a heavy machine gun, and NOT a box with grenades.
It was a half-assembled hang glider.
How did he get here? I think: the former priest was keen on hang gliding until he became infected with a virus and died, and then resurrected, already dead.
I carefully inspected the device, inserted the slats into the necessary grooves, fastened it, and stretched the sail.
The hang-glider was assembled.
I sent him in the direction of the army barracks, sat down under him, lifted him above myself, made a short

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run across the roof of the church – and flew.
Naked like an angel with wings, I flew over the ocean of zombies, who, even if they saw the object flying over them, did not pay attention to him.
They continued to fill the church, trying to climb onto the roof, where they still could smell me, although I was not there already.

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I landed about fifty feet from the nearest hut.
There were no stray corpses here yet, and, looking around carefully, I walked, completely naked, to the army barracks.
I used to be surrounded by soldiers a long time ago and began to look at my body.
But now there was not a soul around, and I, not at all embarrassed, walked naked along the bridgehead.
She went to the building that looked most like a warehouse.
I needed a weapon.
Of course, you could still find some clothes for yourself, but this is not the main thing.
In the war with zombies, weapons are superior to clothing.
I went inside.
This was not a warehouse, but a training hut.
Targets, mannequins, all sorts of instructions.
Exercise machines, barbells, dumbbells.
I went on and noticed the movement.
Two mannequins had sex.
And when I saw, I saw that they were not mannequins, but two ghouls: a dead man and a dead woman copulate rhythmically.
The lady was a cancer right on the mats, and the dead male on her knees behind me was moving her hips in a measured manner, thrusting his dick into the dead girl.
I could not believe my own eyes.
There was no doubt that they were already dead.
But how? How does a dead man have his dick? I understand that the sexual instinct of the dead woman has worked, because the uterus has the longest survival of all human organs is destruction – one and a half years after death it is still functional.
But how did a ghoul stand a member when the blood in his veins no longer flows? Maybe it’s just a super-duper sex giant who also had a strut after death? I saw the penis fall out of the vagina, and the dead gentleman inserted it back into the bosom of his dead partner.
I envied them.
I wanted to join them, get down on all fours and stand next to the girl so that this male (so what, that he is dead) put his instrument in my vagina. Watch live xxx porn. Bongo flirt 888 sex live 32.

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