She was on the phone with her manager. An encrypted call. She guaranteed him the transfer would go as planned. 8pm. Then, she would “take care of the mark”. She smirked at the thought. It was the part of her job she loved most. Afterwards, she sat on the sofa, loading up her purse for the brief drive to the rendezvous. Keys, laser cutting witness, poisoned tipped knife, 9mm with armor piercing hollow point plump in a 15 tweak mag…..the regular stuff a damsel carries.
She opened the door and Igor bust in, first-ever grasping her lethal purse, throwing it away from her. She impressed a suck to his head, then to his side, went for a Third, and he dodged. She flew forth against the door, roll and was back for the lethal crush with her razor tipped heel. She missed. He took the moment to tease her before taking her down with a gam punch to her head. She was scrambled. He pulled her up by her hair, got her contorted around then glided the cable garrote via and around her pretty neck
. She would be done shortly he know. But, she was not about to go down so effortless. She had instructing for this.
He had her nearly off the ground for a few moments, knowing the leverage would take his mark down hasty, but she controlled to disturb his balance and they both went down. He pulled her up against him, using the bed as support and pulled taut. He observed as her face distorted, her tongue thrashed out, veins popping. She contorted and bucked and he let her slip him down to the floor where he knew he would ultimately be able to manage the kill.
She bucked and heaved, thighs pushing, gams thrashing, head twisting, tongue out, eyes gawping at him in defiance. But over time, that switched and he witness the valid try of the this supah spy leisurely fail. She was great, he gave her that, like the time in Spain with the zip-line and detonator, but he knew he had her strike now. Leisurely she loosened, her legs—firm, lengthy, clothed in stocking, with one puny rip–so mind-blowing he watched, down her right gam. Leisurely she lodged and he observed her view at him, then after a while, she was not truly looking at anything anymore. Then, she just stopped. He had done it. Killed
her. She would chase him no more and his agency has gotten rid of a bitter opponent that had been–had seemed unstoppable. Not anymore.
This truce they were to meet tonight, share information–a microdot she would provide and he—well, it no longer mattered. He keeps his information and gets hers. Win. Now, where was it. He leisurely delve thru her purse, making casual note of all the lethality contained within as her figure lay cooling on the floor. He could not help thinking how fabulous she was. And, at one time, they had been together, always attempting to kill each other in the end. Plowing and killing
Now he began on her, leisurely up her stocking clothed gams and perceiving the mild fabric of her sundress. And, she was dresses fairly super-cute. He wondered why–she was just going to kill him anyhow. Maybe, she had more planned. Fuck-fest. He could only speculate now as she gazed blankly at the ceiling. He spinned her, undoing her sundress, perceived her culo, spinned her back, sensed her more. He checked around her head, hair. Nothing. Then, he knew. In her purse was her agency issued witness, which she would always wear. But not today–today, it was a different see. He listed. Not a sound. It was a loser, just for transport. He had it. He straightened her out, packaged her up in a blanket and carried her out.
Runtime : 14min 3s
File Size : 797 MB
Resolution : 1280x720
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