Max has been working night shift at the morgue for as long as he can remember. Most nights, it's a shift packed with loneliness and monotony, but every now and then, something happens to make it quite unforgettable. It seems that tonight, someone has left a assets out and unattended. Curiosity getting the nicer of him, Max raises the thin sheet that covers the deserted corpse and grins at what he watches. It's a young, pretty female, freshly expired, with dainty feet, toes painted blue. He can already sense himself increasing in size rock firm as he begins to rub her rigid milk cans and paws her slick legs and toned abdomen.
Pulling out his stiff rod, he molds her little palm around it and strokes himself with it. Her throat is the highly first-ever orifice to be battered, as he grips her head and holds it stable, while cramming his rosy cigar into her gob. Her pretty feet catch his eye again and he moves to the foot of the table. Removing her footwear, he squeezes his man meat between her tender soles and loves a footjob.
Spinning and shifting her petite frame on the rock firm table, Max commences peeling some of her clothes off. Bringing her donk to the brim of the table, he opens up her legs and pushes himself inside her taut vulva. Fucking her with abandon, he begins to get off from using this poor girl's limp and lifeless assets as his own intimate drill fucktoy. The thought sends him over the brim and he grunts as his ball nut sack contract, his pole throbbing as it rockets a extensive explosion of goo while deep inside her mushy honeypot. His lust satiated, he throws the sheet back over the girl's defiled corpse, hooters out and shorts still down around her ankles, her most individual parts still uncovered, and goes about the rest of his evening.