Her eyes indicated to her left. “Check her out. She’s new.”I looked to my right and saw the woman in question. She was butch but not too butc..., quite tall, slim and short dark brown hair. Her tits were small, as small as mine almost and she wore chestnut-brown flat shoes, khaki cargoes and a pale blue denim shirt, sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm and with a button-down collar. The clothes did nothing to disguise the athleticism of her body. Ernie spoke to her.“You should meet Carla,. "So are you?" she continued, tapping red laquered nails against the glass. "Discreet, I mean, Mister Bumfelt?" I'm expensive," I replied. "That buys a high degree of discretion."She looked to me- those green eyes, lips as red as the pour on dress, auburn locks falling over a shoulder, taking my eyes to her low cut neckline."I want you to kill my husband," she said. "Can you do that for me, Mister Bumfelt?" Micky," I replied, pouring myself another shot of bourbon. "If we're talking murder, call. More

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