Cocked and Loaded
Yvette DiNal
I glanced over my shoulder as I reloaded my gun. The footsteps behind me were dying down as the thugs chasing me ran in the wrong direction down the hall. “Amateurs,” I mumbled as I caught my breath. I rested my head against the cold brick wall and tried to remember how I got here in the first place. The European prince, the job I was hired to do. The bedroom where I first met him dimly lit, the bed full of pillows, and the job I did instead of the one I was being paid for. Lost now, I could only remember his exquisite body and how glad I was to leave my pistol unseen and untouched as he made love to me. This was not the plan I was told to follow, and now the other assassins from The Company were being dispatched to kill me, but I didn't care. In that moment, I was overtaken again by his powerful charm. I couldn't help myself; I checked again that no one was coming and let my hand glide up the inside of my dress. I knew it was dangerous as I slid my underwear to one side and began to feel myself. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from moaning in pleasure as I found my clit and thought of the prince. “Ooooh, Anton...” My fingertips seemed to have a mind of their own as they parted the lips of my pussy and went in slow circles. I was already wet just thinking about him. Quickly, I dug into my purse and found my vibrator. Pressing it against my clit, my excitement grew rapidly and the fingers inside of my vagina picked up speed as my toes curled.
Some time later, I emerged from my daydream. I had been hired to assassinate Prince Anton because he was planing to take back control of his small country. He was here in the U.S. to ask for support. He promised to change oppressive labor laws and would strive to put an end to the civil unrest and inequality he witnessed every day. The dangerous part was that he actually would do it. And he was popular. The Company was hired to take him out by those in his country who still held power, and who wanted to hold onto it. He was a humanitarian to the core, and The Company took the job because he would never tolerate the plants on his soil that developed nuclear-grade weapons to be traded with the United States and on the black market at low costs since they were such a health-hazard to the people who worked them.