PKF Studios - Dealbreaker
30 Mb | MP4 | 854x480 | 00:06:29
Snuff, Shooting, PKF, Sexual Content, Nudity, Thigh-High Stockings, High Heels, Stripping, Head Shot X2, Chest Shot X2, Blood, Bladder Release, Body Play, Body Views, Foot Views
Aspen waits patiently, lounging on her couch, short, black skirt riding high enough to see the tops of the sheer, beige thigh-high stockings that cover her long, sexy legs. There is a knock at the door and, when she calls out, a man enters. Their conversation is terse, business-like, the man a professional dealing in the unsavory profession of making people’s problems go away, permanently. She knows why he’s here, she’s already discussed the arrangement with her husband, 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 willingness to listen. She stands and begins to slowly peel off her clothes. First, the white blouse, tossed to the floor, revealing her pink, pierced nipples, already hard in anticipation. Then, the skirt, unzipped to slide down her shapely legs, a pair of frilly, black and white panties underneath. Finally, the panties and stockings are discarded, her naked body presented to him, her most intimate parts displayed for the taking. She sits back on the couch, legs open, a delicate, manicured hand absently stroking her soft, hairless pussy. She looks up at him seductively, asking if he wants to make a deal.
He is unmoved and simply asks, “Where’s the money?” She points to a plain, white envelope on a nearby table. Counting it, satisfied that it is all there, he turns to face her. Still smiling 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 instructions. Pulling a silenced pistol from his jacket, he points it at the naked woman. She backs away, eyes wide and words sputtering from her bubblegum pink lips, as she tries to save herself. The gun fires twice, the suppressor making the shots sound like dull thuds, and the woman’s head snaps back, a pair of bloody bullet holes fresh in her forehead. Without hesitation, he puts two more in her chest, thoroughness a hallmark of his work. Death seems nearly instantaneous and, as her body shuts down, her bladder releases, a stream of urine soaking into the sofa. Taking out a phone, he calls to let his employer that the job is done. He walks away, leaving the faithless wife’s nude body, blood still leaking from four, neat holes, sprawled on the stained couch.
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