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 back up. Dignity and privacy didn’t matter where she 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 blowjob 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. A few moments later, the cart blonde containing Hardcore Saema’s bagged corpse arrived at Receiving Room 22, the room designated by the technician earlier. After one of the men transporting her body swiped cumshot his card into the digital locking system, a green light clicked on and he pushed the large metal door open. Cool air rushed out into the hallway. This room was kept at a much lower temperature from the outer halls, which, while cool enough to keep further decomposition at a minimum, weren’t as cool as this incoming room or, naturally, the freezer rooms where bodies were stored for longer durations. Saema’s cart was wheeled into place at the end of a row of other bodies being stored here temporarily, skinny and once the two men responsible for dropping her off had initialed and noted the time and date on her paperwork, they hung the clipboard from a small hook on the gurney’s left side, not far from the girl’s feet. “Sucks,” one of the guys, a tall, lanky man probably in his mid-20s, said. “Looked like a cute one from what I saw.” “Looks like someone had fun with her,” the other one said with a shrug, walking towards the door. The first man punched him in the arm, perhaps to show disapproval, and followed him out into the hall. Amit pulled her roughly to the edge of the bed. The girl was still stood there watching me, and the 3 men. Chapter 16 - IRON HORSE RODEO He got the fifth answer right. “That's just the beginning.” I told her. The small suburban bedroom was now filled with moans of ecstasy as both participant's pleasure increased. I braced myself for the awkward aftermath. This time she was as naked as we were. floor. Kneeling down beside the man, Ishtar placed an cumshot icy hand on his arm skinny and leaned in close. I don't feel like that any longer and thank you. I’m blowjob blonde pretty sure she is extremely horny and she’s struggling to control it. "Ohhh Master, you feel so good inside me," Hardcore Kitana moaned. A cum lover makes my day start nice. 'In Caribbean Islands' she teased.