You set up to start the embalming. Then, her left arm was raised so that it rested at a 90-degreengle to her exotic side, and an incision was made under the left armpit. The appropriate arteries were found, raised and carefully incised, and needles were inserted to drain the blood and inject embalming fluid. Abigail Elizabeth Miller lay quiet, utterly inert, pliant and unresistant, throughout this process, An artery and vein now protrude from Abigail's neck. With scalpel in hand, Zeke saws an opening into the tough, rubbery artery and guides the head of a metal tube into it, pointing the head toward the heart. A hose affixed to the tube's free end runs to the Portiboy, whose pressure and flow rate Zeke adjusts for a body that looks to be one hundred twenty-five pounds or so. He then trips the machine to life. With a loud, regular clicking sound, the Portiboy begins to pump pink embalming fluid through the tube into Abigail's artery. With the machine's relentless force behind it, formalin pushes blood from arteries into veins. Zeke is careful not to dial up the pressure. Excessive pressure can bloat a body within a matter of minutes, making it look fifty pounds heavier. The blood is now building up. To release it, Zeke slices a hole into the raised jugular and into it inserts the shaft of the drain tube, pushing south until the tip banks against the upper chamber of the heart. Brackish blood streams from the tube and spills into the gutter that rims the embalming table. From there it flows into a porcelain basin at the head of the table called a "slop" sink and gurgles down the drain on its way to the city sewer system. With the Portiboy ticking away, arterial fluid being pumped in, blood being forced out, Zeke begins to periodically massaged and exercised Abigail's breasts, arms and legs to ensure as even a distribution mature of the fluid as possible. A couple of times he stops the massage to attend to blood clots that block up the veins. Some embalmers push down on the chest to dislodge them; Zeke pumps a priming lever on the end of the drain tube. When he does, a few clots plop into the slop sink, looking something like currant jelly. These clots are small. Bigger clots, which resemble, and are called, japan chicken fat, he sometimes needs to smash by hand to keep them from clogging the drain. After twenty minutes, three-quarters of a gallon of blood are drained from Abigail, and the dark color in the japanese hose begins to brighten, one sign embalming fluid is filling the girl's circulatory system. A pink, lifelike tinge has returned to Abigail's ashen skin as colored dye trickles into underlying tissue. When Zeke pinches Abigail's now plump fingertips and earlobes, the skin rebounds as it would in life. Zeke asian shuts down the Portiboy, removes both drain nozzles from vein and artery, and ties off the vessels with surgical thread. He stuffs the knot into the incision, follows it with cotton, and squirts a powdery sealing compound over both. Taking a curved needle threaded with suture, Zeke then closes the wound with a baseball stitch. As the embalming fluid pumped into Abigail's body, filling her blood vessels and permeating her tissues, disinfecting and preserving her, one mortician hooked a trochar up to a hose connected to another jar of embalming fluid. The trocar can be fitted with fresh tips, but Zeke hones the point of his with a small whetstone prior to each embalming. The business end of the trocar has to be sharp enough to pierce the tough abdominal wall and reach the organs. The embalmer's ideal point of entry is a soft spot of flesh two inches to the left and north of the navel. With a practiced probe of fingers, Zeke fixes that spot on Abigail and places the silver tip of the trocar there. And then, grasping firmly, he thrust it smoothly to make the incision in the abdomen. He lined up the long steel needle under Abigail’s navel, then, the cutting trocar piercing the tender flesh and stabbing deeply into her soft dead organs. Abigail shifts on the table as the trocar enters, and moves in motion as Zeke proceeds to impel the shaft in and around her abdomen. To the outsider, Zeke's thrusting -- or "belly punching," as early viewers of the practice described it -- appears blind and random. When they entered my area, Buddy ran up to meet them. "Can we whore?" No bra. Honestly if this situation had not already been so surreal and insane, Aaron would have laughed. "Are you staying over at mine tonight? I played like I wasn't paying attention, reading something, and when he japan went down to get it, I spread asian my legs as wide as I could in the skirt. Do you realize what that would mean?” I ask. I hardly remembered what it was like before Scott and honestly I was a bit embarrassed cause when I thought of it I remembered being so much less mature riding my bike with my girlfriends talking about hot movie and TV starts. It was time to strike up a deal . . . “Well that is pretty japanese good timing.” I said with a chipper voice. I asked. It could have been anybody's cock, but she began to move her hips slowly to and fro, letting the cock slide in and out, moaning slightly as she began to ride him. "I will, thank you," June managed to mature muddle out as the other woman exotic slowly walked away and rejoined what must have been her husband who was mesmerized in front of a field of flowers painting set in a rainstorm on the other side of the hall. And his tongue clearly had some expertise. Do you have time to go over my game?” “Can’t day I’ve ever noticed!” Anju blushed. The human, Nicholas seemed down. But I know I can’t go home – maybe ever.” We told him we are just looking. If this was an object, it was on the edge of art. Melissa slowly started picking up the pace as she fucked Lesslie. “You definitely gotta try it while you’re here in Cali. He needs their tears, their acknowledgement and their pain for his pleasure. He’s ready to blow, his dick is begging for it. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and with all the strength I had, I flung her to the ground. I slip my hand under hers and interlock our fingers together. He’s just a convention weeb, why does this seem hard?