Patients were encouraged to plan for their “final needs” another euphemism, with some care. The families would be comforted by this closure and the patient could attend the procedure with greater ease if she knew that Groupsex all the final needs were planned. “Yes,” Jessica reflected wryly, “I will certainly be much happier when they hang me now that I know that my funeral is already planned. My God, is this some sort of bad joke?” The court brochure indicated that a public viewing of the patient was a final requirement of the “procedure.” “My God, they asian require a viewing,” Jessica had said to herself. These brochures were chillingly amusing. This society treated executions as if they were outpatient surgery procedures. They were planning a quality review after her execution! They expected the “patients” to follow a dress code for their execution! She wondered, “If I show up in shorts and a tank top, will they send me home?” She had read the information earlier in the week and was upset by all of it. It seemed so unreal, yet today was the day. In a little while, she would walk out of this house, never to return. All week long, she had obsessed over how she would look today. She had spent the bulk of her time with her husband and child, but whenever she was alone with her thoughts, she would daydream, fantasize almost, about her final appearance. Her narcissism gratified her in a perverse, yet very powerful way, alleviating the mounting horror of her impending doom. How she would dress her hair. Almost ...what role she would play. In Hardcore the end, her choice had reflected her own sense of personal style and complexity. Playing the part of herself, combining her propensities toward elegance and sensuality. She applied makeup sparingly: just a touch of blush to add a little color to her creamy skin, a highlight of shadow on her eyelids, topped off with a natural gloss on her full lips. On a quixotic impulse, she dabbed on her favorite perfume. She checked her hands and feet. Her manicure and pedicure was perfect, she was wearing a delicate shade of rose-pink nail polish on her fingers and toes. Now for her earrings, tiny pearl studs. “I suppose that I will have to remove these later,” she thought. She added a thin gold chain and cross, her rings, and wrist watch. The face staring back at her from the mirror was striking. Her make up and japanese long hair had emphasized her long, graceful throat and the aristocratic, almost stern facial planes which were softened by her wide, slightly up-tilted, heavy-lidded deep blue eyes and soft, full lips. She stood, slipped out japan of her bathrobe, and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror on the door. There was a sudden lurch as the ship exited the tunnel. But Sour says, “That seems acceptable. I suddenly feel like I'm being watched. The asian blonde’s hips jerk off the bed at the sensation with a moan japanese ripping from her throat. The call I was waiting for came on the following Monday morning. She tugs me along japan by my cock to the bathroom. I’ll get breakfast ready for when you two come down,” Mommy said. His fingers were rough and strong, sliding up and down my wet folds. Grace had lain Hardcore down and he watched as her chest heaved. Her hands roamed my body, grasping a shoulder here, scratching my leg there, stroking my penis before coming up to my chest and forcing me back against the wall, her body quickly following, Groupsex unwilling to break our embrace.