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Melania crouched in the dimly lit upstairs bedroom of the neighboring house, her body pressed low against the windowsill. She was dressed in all black tactical gear - tight pants, fitted top, combat boots - every inch the professional embedded agent. In her hands: a high-powered spotting scope mounted on a tripod, eye glued to the eyepiece. Beside her, a small walkie-talkie crackled softly with occasional check-ins from base. Her mission was simple: observe the target, log movements, identify any visitors or unusual activity. Purely professional. Through the lens she watched the living room across the street. The target - a tall, muscular man in his late thirties - had just pulled a curvaceous brunette onto the couch. Clothes were already coming off fast. His shirt hit the floor, revealing a chiseled chest. She straddled him in nothing but a black thong, grinding down hard as he gripped her hips. Melania noted the time, the woman's approximate age, the way the target's hands roamed - all routine surveillance details. She whispered updates into the walkie-talkie in clipped, emotionless tones: "Target engaged in intimate contact with unidentified female. Position: living room sofa. Activity ongoing." But the scene unfolded with raw intensity. The woman arched back, breasts bouncing free as the man sucked hard on one nipple while his fingers slipped under her thong. He flipped her onto her back, spread her legs wide, and buried his face between her thighs. Melania zoomed in slightly - purely for better visibility of facial expressions and potential conversation. The brunette's mouth opened in a silent moan, hips bucking against his tongue. Then he rose, pants shoved down, thick cock springing free. He entered her in one deep thrust, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pounded into her relentlessly. The couch creaked under them, bodies slapping together in perfect rhythm. Melania's breathing grew shallower. She tried to stay detached, jotting mental notes: duration, positions, intensity. But heat crept up her neck, pooling low in her belly. Her thighs clenched involuntarily. The way the target's muscles flexed with each powerful stroke, the woman's desperate cries filtering faintly through the open window - it was too much. Professional or not, her body betrayed her. Still staring through the scope with one eye, she reached down with trembling fingers and unzipped her tactical pants. She shoved them past her hips along with her black thong, kicking them aside. Cool air hit her already slick folds. She spread her legs wider on the carpeted floor, keeping the scope steady. Her free hand slid between her thighs, fingers finding her swollen clit immediately. She circled it slowly at first, matching the rhythm of the thrusts she was watching. The target switched positions - doggy style now. He gripped the woman's hair, pulling her head back as he slammed into her from behind. Melania's fingers moved faster, dipping inside her own dripping pussy, then back to her clit. She bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her other hand stayed locked on the scope, never breaking contact with the scene. She watched every detail: the sweat on his back, the way the woman's ass jiggled with each impact, the moment he reached around to rub her clit while fucking her harder. Melania's hips rocked against her hand. She plunged two fingers deep, curling them, fucking herself in time with the target's thrusts. Her breaths came in short gasps. Pleasure coiled tight in her core. Through the lens she saw the brunette shatter first - body convulsing, mouth open in a scream. The target followed seconds later, pulling out to spill thick ropes across her back. That was the trigger. Melania's orgasm hit like a shockwave. Her thighs trembled, pussy clenching hard around her fingers as waves of release crashed through her. She kept the scope trained perfectly, logging the aftermath even as her body shook: "Climax achieved. Target and companion now disengaging. No deviation from observed pattern." She stayed there, panting softly, fingers still buried inside herself, scope still fixed on the window across the street. Mission accomplished - surveillance uninterrupted, every second documented. Professional to the end.