The Final Mistake

I close the file. It's time.

I have a solid lead on the man I'm hunting and he won't escape this time.

My office is a mess of files and photos. I have obsessed over him for months. I have tried to learn all I could about him. He is elusive, smart and highly professional. He doesn't give much away. But last week he made a mistake. I'll make sure it will be his final mistake.

I suit up, literally. My favourite hunting gear, my black cat suit. It may not seem practical but as I hunt mostly men, it gives me certain advantages...

I strip off completely and open my wardrobe. There is, its sleek shiny material catches the light. I step into the legs and pull the suit slowly up to my waist. I put my arms through the sleeves and into the gloved hands.

I study myself in the mirror. With the zip still open my cleavage and my navel are on show, as is my pussy. It's one of those cat suits. I have hunted like this before; it can be a very effective distraction. I don't know if it will work on mu current prey and it's a cold night. I zip up the suit, the high collar comes up to under my jaw. I flip my blonde curls free. The suit hugs my figure tightly. I might retire after this job, I think I know what kind of work I could step into.

Speaking of which, my boots. Black and shiny to match the suit. I pick the pair with heels, I might need to jam them into someone's eye.

I clip my gun and knife holster around my wait. I throw on my black trench coat.

I'm ready.

One final look at his picture.

Beside my desk sits another. I haven't cleared it. I don't know if I could. Her chair sits as she left it.

I pick up his picture. Your picture. I'm coming for you Caviera .