Saema’s black bag may have kept her hidden from their lenses, but a couple of them would manage to zoom in far enough on the toe tag hanging out of the bag to figure out who she was. After the doors of the van were opened, the techs who were wheeling her outside grab at a plastic handle on chinese the top and foot of the body bag and swing it unceremoniously into the back of the vehicle. Saema was dead, after all, so what did a little roughness matter to her? As the lead investigator from the Medical Examiner’s Office walked up, she snapped her gloves off and took her face mask off as well. She was shorter, around 5’3”, with long brown hair and brown eyes. “I’m gonna finish up here, grab a bite, and then meet you guys at the morgue. Think we’ve got a couple more stiffs just brought in too,” she says, checking through a couple quick texts from the lead technician on duty. “Should be an interesting couple of days.” After the doors were shut, she banged on them twice with her fist and the driver nodded, putting the van in drive, and leaving the scene. As the coroner’s van made its way through the mid-day LA traffic, Saema’s corpse shifted in its bag with each sudden turn or stop, her head moving side to side, and the toe tag on her big toe dancing wildly. All-in-all, the ride would be about 35 minutes, though japanese time to her mattered little. The van was parked out behind the main building in japan front of a set of steel double-doors which required the scanning of a valid city identification card to open. Saema’s body bag was dragged by one of its handles onto a waiting gurney and once the door was opened, brought into a small inprocessing room. There, a security guard reviewed her paperwork real fast before handing the clipboard to the technician at the desk. The morgue tech, a middle-aged Hispanic man, looked over the paperwork and then tugged at the zipper at the feet of the body bag. As the plastic fell away, Saema’s feet, which had been pressed against the bag’s inside, fell forward, exposing her pretty, soft soles to the room. The Hispanic tech read the information on her toe tag and compared it to information on the paperwork given to him by the affectionately-called “corpse couriers,” and then unzipped the top of the bag. He looked inside, lifeless brown eyes staring up at him half-opened, the girl’s lips parted in a look of surprise and resignation. He initialed the paperwork and then threw the flap back over her face, not even bothering to zip it asian back up. Dignity and privacy didn’t matter where she pussy was going. “Put her in 22 with the others we got in over the last 12 hours. We’ll get her processed before long,” he said, clearing his throat, and going back to his desk to pick up his iPhone and resume texting his younger girlfriend. Saema’s body was wheeled through another set of doors and into a long, white corridor from which several other hallways branched off. The walls and ceiling were a rather plain white color, with greyish floor tiles below, the place reeking for form and function rather than interior decorating. As the couriers made a couple turns, they passed bodies on stretchers lying in the hallway, a couple covered in hospital shrouds and a couple others lying under clear plastic wrapping. One of the bodies lying under a clear covering was that of a 32-year-old African American man, quite naked with the tip of his flaccid penis pressing against the plastic, a hole with blackish-red blood drying around it above his left eye a giveaway as to the cause of his death. About twenty-five feet away, they passed the body of a 43-year-old woman whose neck looked severed and distorted, her face slightly bloated, dried blood coming out of her ears and nose. The toe tag that hung from the right big toe of her stiff, contorted feet stated that she had expired in a car accident some hours before. She slammed her girl-dick to the hilt in me over and over, this amazing pleasure building and building inside of me. "Sorry Angie," I whispered, "Looks like I have to go." She had never felt so thoroughly enveloped by a man before, so completely at his mercy, and the fear of what he was going to do was rapidly being swallowed by her fear of how her body was going to respond. Mae served as both Matron of Honor and wedding planner, bringing in asian the minister from their local Lutheran church to officiate. “You can trust me, Felippe. Just think of something that would be different enough for me to call him, but not among the pages of known faults that I am supposed to report.” He reached out taking her hand and helping her into the hot tub. I grab him by the collar and toss him back. It was nicely trimmed and was wet. She had fucked both of us for over 12 hours, and almost cried when she had to go home, saying she wanted more but had to go. The girl also had a damn good figure from the looks of it. “Most children don't want their chinese parents at their college,” I said, amusement japanese tingeing my tone. On reaching home I bolted the door and hugged him tightly from his back and poured kisses all over his neck and bit his ear lobes. David watched his girl’s full red lips as she wrapped them around his dick and sucked him masterfully. He then brought his hands down and tugging at the chord of her petticoat, he pulled it free from her body. She couldn’t help herself, she had to spill the beans about her and Holden. After that I got back onto my hands and knees and turned my egg japan right down. Also, since I (in that case) would have betrayed his trust in the most egregious way, we couldn’t be a family any more… He unhooked his belt and lifted off his leathery butcher’s apron exposing his monstrously wide, beast like body. If you get pregnant, you can go to college online until after you have the baby.” Bill heard it in his head again, 'I had a blue carnation, you had pink...' I love having you deep inside me! Please, breed me. Breed your Queen!” Johanna's feminine voice carried across the throne room, as did the squelching from both her's and Hannah's butt getting fucked. "And what did you say?" I danced around in her snatch. When your nipples are rock hard I lightly touch the tips of each with my tongue which makes your entire body shiver. Dylan’s sitting across from me and gives me a dirty look. “Until we made this trip to San Diego, I had never tasted REAL Mexican. Neither girl had noticed my presence as yet, as they were too engrossed pussy in each other.