Aspen waits patiently, lounging on her couch, short, black skirt riding high enough to watch the tops of the sheer, beige thigh-high stocking that glaze her long, stunning legs. There is a knock at the door and, when she calls out, a boy comes in. Their conversation is terse, business-like, the man a professional dealing in the unsavory profession of making peopleТs problems go away, permanently. She knows why heТs here, sheТs already discussed the arrangement with her hubby, but she wants to make a side arrangement of her own. Maybe she has something he wants, something that may earn her a discount, so that she can pocket a bit of his fee for herself. He looks at her stoically, saying neither yes or no, but indicating a readiness to listen.
She stands and embarks to slowly peel off her clothes. Highly very first, the white half-top, tossed to the floor, unveiling her pinkish, pierced nips, already rigid in anticipation. Then, the skirt, unzipped to slip down her shapely legs, a pair of frilly, black and white underpants underneath. Ultimately, the panties and stockings are discarded, her naked body presented to him, her most private parts displayed for the taking. She sits back on the bed, legs open, a mild, manicured forearm absently masturbating her delicate, shaved pussy. She looks up at him temptingly, pleading if he wants to make a deal.
He is unmoved and simply asks, УWhereТs the money?Ф She points to a simple, white envelope on a nearby table. Counting it, satiated that it is all there, he turns to face her. Still sneering at him, she asks, again, if they can make a deal. Her husband, his primary employer, has warned him this might happen, and has given him clear guidelines. Pulling a silenced pistol from his jacket, he points it at the bare girl. She backs away, eyes wide and words sputtering from her bubblegum rosy lips, as she tries to save herself.
The gun fires 2 times, the suppressor making the shots sound like dull thuds, and the womanТs head snaps back, a pair of bleeding bullet fuck-holes fresh in her forehead. Without hesitation, he puts Two more in her chest, thoroughness a hallmark of his work. Death seems nearly immediate and, as her body shuts down, her bladder whips out, a load of urine wetting into the couch. Taking out a phone, he calls to let his employer that the job is done. He walks away, leaving the faithless wifeТs naked figure, blood still leaking from Four, neat crevasses, sprawled on the stained couch.