Chapter 1

The whore under me hated me. That was okay and to be expected. I was using her cunt as hard as I could to get myself off. She wasn't the best looking whore on the sunset strip, she was in her mid thirties and her face showed age lines, and the look of someone weary and experienced in how the world and the men who hired her worked.

Her Pussy was not the tightest thing on earth but even with a condom if your willing to work it right you can get off into just about any hole. I lifted her legs up and threw them over my shoulder and watched as her tits bounced to the rhythm of my pounding. I could feel it happening and let self cum into the condom as I heard her sigh in relief that I was finally done.

I rolled off of her, took a few deep breaths and watched as She got up and used the bathroom. As she shut the door. I fished A hundred out of my wallet and left it next to her panties as I slipped off the condom and set it in the trash. Not very hygienic but I really didn't want to hold the slimy thing any more than I had to.

She came out took the extra hundred as a tip, pulled her panties and her dress back on and walked out of my hotel room without talking to me. Not the most perfect erotic moment in my life but it did succeed in taking the edge off of my nervous system.

In my profession being nervous, or having shaky hands for any reason can be bad for your health. So before going on a job I found a street walker and fucked her silly to make things run a little smoother.

After a quick shower I pulled on a pair of black slacks and then a dark blue polo shirt. I reclaimed a briefcase from the closet then walked down out of my hotel room.

The job tonight was fairly simple. Someone was screwing the wrong guys wife and the husband wanted it all handled. I took out a rental car from the parking garage and drove off to Hollywood.

I had spent the last couple days scouting the guys house. He was a car dealer who specialized in import models. He had sold Mr Smith's wife her new Porsche, then got to know her so well that it began to annoy the man. Infidelity is one thing, but she was actively going out of her way to flaunt her relationship with the car dealer, and rich and powerful men don't like to loose face like that, ever.

The guys house was a large mansion in West Hollywood, but the security system was old, and I had spent some time spotting his code with a pair of high powered binoculars.

My client was at a dinner tonight, so his wife begged off with a headache it didn't require a genius to figure out she would be here getting her jollys.

I parked three blocks away and slipped my pistol out of the briefcase, and hid the silencer in my pocket. I added a roll of gaffer tape and a stun gun. From there I casually walked up the street and to the servants entrance on the outside of the property proper. I tapped in four numbers and the door opened for me.

From there I passed by a Ferrari, and the Wife's Porsche, and made my through the shadows to the side entrance of the house. I entered the numbers again and the door came unlocked. Now I slipped quietly up the stairs to the main master bedroom.

It made me glad that this guy didn't have any kids. Kid's can complicate any situation, and this is a situation where witnesses have to be taken care of along with the principles.