Mob Wife

Syren's the mob-wife in this whole mess, she has a package nobody can find out about. Needs her lawyer to get it. Husband can't know. She's the type who picks the right guy, today it's Buddy. Trouble is, Buddy hasn't figured out he's the right guy yet. She pushes up on him, hips to chest, and tells him straight out: only three minutes, nothing but a handoff, nobody dies. And then her fingers walk down between her legs, open her wet pussy wide for him to see. “Fuck me, it's all yours tonight,” she smiles. She's pumping out reassurance while she's also working a two-fingered tease over her clit for show. Syrupy voice, “Stay right in this zone, the envelope disappears, your job is finished.” Buddy's cock's tenting his jeans already. The envelope ends up in the inside pocket of his jacket, while Syren keeps stroking herself open, promising nothing bad on the way there and an encore when he gets back. Things get real detailed, real loud. Wet sounds echo off the brick walls of the room they're using. Sweat drips from the curve of her tits onto the package for good luck before she seals the envelope with a kiss.