Comments (0 comments)
  • Mrs. Vargas walked to the counter that was near the sink and cleaning station and got out an over-sized ziplock bag from a drawer that Saema’s boyfriend had given to her the day they had picked her body up from the morgue. The actual clothes that she would wear during transportation didn’t matter all that much, and if he had failed to provide anything she would have simply dressed her in a gown similar to one for hospital patients, but the young man had given them a pair of pajamas that she had apparently liked and Emile thought this at least would make her look restful. Victor returned a moment later with the steel casket and wheeled it over to the side of the slab. Emile turned and gave the nude corpse one last look over before she would go about the task of dressing her. Saema’s skin looked like it was improving in color despite her having been dead for close to four days. Victor had truthfully done a good job with the actual embalming itself. She peered down at her face and noticed that he had remembered to put two small cotton balls in the girl’s nostrils. A southward glance followed by a closer inspection between the dead girl’s legs revealed that her sex had been similarly plugged and cotton had been wadded up and forced up her puckered asshole. With the casket being lined with plastic, leakage would not be a major issue and really, with this temporary sealing job, she should have no problem surviving the journey up north. The two carefully sat the girl’s corpse up on the marble slab and, with Victor raising her arms up over her head, Emile slipped on the soft pajama shirt - a cute pink top with little monkeys on it. Obviously, the girl had an interesting sense of humor, but many would probably have found it endearing. After laying her back down on the slab, her head landing rather hard, they worked together - one with each leg - to work the matching pants carefully over her chocolate-colored toe nails, past her feet, legs, and knees, and securely up to her curvy hips. “No shoes, right?” Victor asked. “The boyfriend didn’t bring any,” she remarked. “That’s good, anyway. In case they need to quickly identify her at some point during transit, we want her toe tags clearly visible and accessible.” Since Saema was rather light, Emile suggested that they simply pick her corpse up and place it into the waiting casket themselves rather than make use of one of the lifting tools they had. Victor grabs her around the ankles and Emile works up under her shoulders and, with a rather fluid motion, they lift her up off the slab and swing her to the casket settled just a couple feet below the slab. Emile’s grip starts to fail at the last minute and the corpse lands with a thud in the casket, but all-in-all the process goes well. Emile takes a few final photographs of Saema’s restful corpse as she lays barefoot and toe-tagged in the transport casket and, with a nod to Victor, indicates that they are finally finished with her. “Wheel her into the cooler and we’ll keep her there until the van arrives to bring her to the airport.” And, with those final words from his boss, Victor looks one last time at the cold piece of ass laying with cotton plugs up her stinking asshole and toe tags pressed between her soles and the foot of the casket. He takes the viscera bag, drops it between the girl’s cheesy feet, and shuts the lid on the casket. Saema is wheeled through a set of doors in the embalming room and into a large, walk-in cooler where her casket sits with three others, awaiting transit to her home state for her wake, funeral, and burial. The transport van that had been chartered out by the airline that was responsible for flying her body back home to Pennsylvania had arrived at the funeral home at 3:00 in the afternoon, checking over and initialling all required paperwork. Derrick wrapped a loop around the base of each breast, then slowly tightened and layered the loop as he threaded the rope around her shoulders and across her back. Then he saw the hologram of Derrick, as he snapped to attention. Later story would confirm that. It was early in the semester so we made some changes to take more of the same courses. We got into his subcompact and headed over. Now I heard girlfriend saying: ‘don’t worry Jana, it will be OK’. I had asked him about that a few years ago because I knew he wasn’t licensed in New York. She sprang onto him in a flash, her blonde hair swaying about her shoulders. His friends watched him fuck her and started to get hard again. He was aroused, but he was also charmed and surprised at their apparent peace and calm. I almost spit out my tea watching his reaction as I slip my shoe back on and wiped my mouth with a napkin.
  • Just like you do. And I don't mean just a little bit.” “Are you saying that Freddy actually made you gush? ” I asked, still finding it hard to believe what I was hearing with my own ears. “Oh, yeah!” “But I thought you told me that you were scared and confused.” “I was . I was scared and confused--and orgasming my butt off--all at the same time. I just couldn’t help myself, you know? No guy had ever seen or touched my pussy before; let alone, fingered me like that.” “Did you scream out, while you were cumming, like you normally do when I'm finger-fucking you?” “Yeah, I'm pretty sure that I did make a little bit of noise. But I really tried hard not to. Whenever I used to play with myself in my bed late at night, I used to bite down on my lower lip, and whimper through my nose, like this,” Bea said, before showing me a quick example of what she was describing. “That way, I wouldn't wake up my older sister, or anyone else in the house, while I was busy orgasming. And that's exactly what I did, when I was with Freddy.” “When you orgasmed, did you squirt all over Freddy's hand, like you do on mine?” “Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, I couldn't help that part. And afterwards, I felt so embarrassed. But there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.” “Okay. So is that when Freddy moved in closer, and stuck his dick in your pussy?” “No. He just kept on finger-fucking me, for I don't know how long. All I know is that Freddy made me cum over and over again, just like you do, when you're finger-fucking me.” “So then what you're saying is that Freddy must have spent several minutes finger-fucking you?” “Yeah, that's probably about right. And then all of the sudden, he quit finger-fucking me. And that's when he moved in close to me, and stuck his dick in the front of my crack, and started slowly rubbing it back and forth against my pussy.” “So, what else are you not telling me about this Freddy guy? My orgasm built in me with every hard plunge of Daddy's dick into my cunt. "I know the both of you though I am not sure how I do." Then, recovered, Midnight strained his muscles, struggling to finally withdraw his cock. No matter how sincere his apology, she could not comprehend the reason for it. Her rather tight pussy sucked and milked me splendidly. Let my supple breasts please your hard mighty cock.” He switched to her ass now, smacking her wiggling cheeks as hard as he could. I bet you didn't read the whole thing. I think he was just really embarrassed about talking about sex. At one point she put her hands on my head and pulled me tight into her pussy, grinding it into my face. It was just before 7:45 when I pulled up to Sam's building on Saturday morning.