"Oh Eric, Eric, Eric, Eric." There was a moment when he seemed to be cumming, and when we stopped a few moments after that, his condom was full again. Midnight had come. I had school the next day and a lie to tell my parents, and though I had taken something that wasn't mine, what a wonderful memory. Eric paid me for babysitting with a really big tip, REALLY big, and drove me home. Saema’s body lay in the drawer in the crypt of the LA County Coroner’s Office for nearly 48 hours before one of the autopsy technicians finally came for her. The technician that had come was a middle-aged African American man asian in a blue apron who stopped with an empty gurney right at the girl’s feet. He walked around the gurney and grabbed her toe tag in his hand, brushing lightly against her cold, stiff soles. “Saema Markall, case number 20150702003,” he muttered to himself, checking some notes he had with him to verify that this was the right one. Grabbing her at the ankles, the tech tugged at her forcefully and her clear plastic-bagged corpse slid unceremoniously from the drawer it had occupied for nearly two days onto the metal tray of the gurney he had gotten for her. He tugged her all the way until her bare feet were dangling at the edge of the tray, her head making a loud thud as it slammed down onto the cart. The tech didn’t care and the dead girl certainly didn’t either. Tossing the clipboard into a small holder on the side of the cart, the technician wheeled Saema’s body down a different route than the one they had taken her through in this crypt before. Here, the man pushed her through a couple large storage areas filled with the bodies of all sorts of people awaiting their autopsy, their toe-tagged feet sticking out of the cold, dark drawers, bringing her to pov a different set of double-doors that they then passed through. Here, after traveling down a dark, white-walled corridor, they reached a larger room that seemed to be the autopsy prep area. Saema’s cart was parked near the edge of a row of gurneys upon which other corpses that would soon be autopsied were lying. shaved The tech responsible for preparing her body began by pulling off the plastic tarp that had covered her all this time and tossed it aside into a disposal bin. Saema now lay stark naked in the room for all present to see, her nipples stiff and erect in the cold air, her flesh now quite paler than it was when she was first brought in, her pretty brown eyes now glossed over, yet still staring blankly at the tiled ceiling. He took her hands and dropped them at her sides, her fingers rather stiff and somewhat balled up, but her arms straight against her side, rear, and legs. From a bin on a steel table somewhere behind her head, he grabbed a blank toe tag, this time a blue color with different fields on it, and placed it under her heels, which he adjusted so that her feet were touching, the toes pointing at a 45-degree angle into the room. Next to her on another gurney lay the body of the Asian heart-attack victim from when she was brought in. His flaccid penis was limp and lying off its side, balanced by his greying pubic hairs. His body tone was rather unremarkable, his gut a bit heavy-set, and his face revealed an air of resignation. His wife and eldest daughter had requested an autopsy to verify that it was the heart attack that killed him. Across from Saema, a familiar pair of feet with bright green toe nails pointed towards the middle of the room. A single toe-tag hung from the teen’s succulent right big toe, while a female morgue tech was filling out a second toe-tag, noting that the cause of the young girl’s demise had been sudden and massive internal bleeding from a ruptured superior vena cava during the collision that also took her step-mother’s life. Her abdomen and chest were wide open, her glistening intestines, stomach, and liver clearly visible. Her nipples were folded all the way back and touching the cold metal of the steel slab, the front plating of her ribcage now a bloody mass Hardcore of bone and tissue laying in a tray and waiting to be put back in. A young pathologist’s assistant was behind her, getting some stitching to begin the process of closing her back up. The girl’s mouth still lay agape, her eyes half-opened and staring into nothing, a bloody cut in her head above her petite eyebrows marking the edge of where her skullcap had been opened up during her autopsy. Finally, Saema’s cart began to move once more, being pushed past the bodies laying in this room and through a set of double doors. The doors opened into a large autopsy room, one of three that the Medical Examiner’s Office had on-sight. The room was massive: with sixteen autopsy stations in this one room alone, proper staffing was the only thing holding the office back from conducting and completing more exams in a day’s time. I love men who know how to do this. God, she was beautiful as she rode back on my cock. When Katya recovered consciousness her face and chest were buried in the dry straw but she was still on her knees and her numbed cunt was still completely, impossibly full. I opened my robe and flashed her pov and petite said yes. My mouth went dry, and I caught myself staring at shaved her tits again. I’m not wearing it around you anymore.” “Why?” I still remember her smooth, hairless vulva, the inner labia demurely folded within the thick bulge of her outer lips, and how she unfolded like a asian bud as my fingers spread her apart. The flogging resumed immediately, with redoubled force. It was her Daddy’s penis! Damn!” Jill and I said together, “Hey, Hey…none of that.” I humped and shuddered, loving the feel of her nuzzling into my twat. “I will” Mr Slater confirmed, taking an opportunity to glance at the teenage girl’s large firm breasts underneath her tight t-shirt. I will ask her if she wants to chat with you. I had always wanted to bust a move on her, but she Hardcore always saw me as so much younger and was into guys with tattoos and beards, so I lacked confidence. All the pain, had almost completely dulled my power to near nothing.