The Saucy Banker

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Some people think of banking as boring, skull numbing and without excitement. Variable rate loans, loaded equities? Points down? Credit lines? Who could get turned on with terms like that? You either and you work there. So you have to make life interesting. Little games to get you through the day. Back to home without hurting anyone or without saying what you think about the petty problems they pour on you. Things you don’t care about that you have to fix. Problems you did not cause, mistakes you did not make and you have to do it with a sympathetic smile. A genuine smile, because they can tell when you are faking it and will really unload on you when they do. You do all this for a manager who cares little about you and plenty about the complex rating system that earns him bonuses and you nothing. Except of course the joy of his presence, you know: tall, 50 + balding, wearing cheap, ill fitting suits because he can’t believe that he has gained another 10 pounds on the downward roller coaster ride of life that says he will have a heart attack in another 15 pounds. Not to mention the wetness on his sleeve where he wipes his sweaty head. All of this and his habit of peeking down your blouse. That would almost be a complement but he does it so often you would love to speak to HR about him. That would kill the $300 Christmas bonus you get every year. It is not much but it buys happiness for a few hours under your fake Christmas tree.

So then there is The Game. You can’t remember when you started it, but it has become a permanent fixture in your life at work and without it all the bad things I mentioned would probably come to a head at some point. The Game is simple, but requires an active imagination, a bending of the truth to make the actual truth seem palatable. Every client you see has a sexual backdrop, something you notice about the way they walk, dress or talk. It can be anything really, just a focal point to spin reality into something interesting. The net effect is that you are in a constant state of arousal as you focus on fixing someone else’s life. With that backdrop, the game went sideways one day. Not the “I am middle aged, need to find myself in California wine country and have an affair” type of sideways. This was more like, turned on your head type of sideways.

You are sitting at your desk, managing Mrs. Klein’s account issues (again!) while she sits with pursed lips watching you. The only excitement you can derive from Mrs. Klein is the glimpse of her son who sits in the car waiting. He is cute and very doable. You finish off the last transactions and Mrs. Klein Bağdat Caddesi Travesti leaves muttering. Before you have time to get up and have some coffee, tall, blonde and handsome sits down.

“Miss, I have a problem I am hoping you can help me with.” He has a winning smile and has sat in the chair opposite you with a grace that belies his size.

“How can I help?” You smile back, the sparkle in your eyes conveying more than the simple question. He launches into a spiel about his mortgage and how the payments are misapplied and what can we do to fix the problem? He would be most grateful. The game has spooled up. He is a lithe, trim figure of a man who is clearly an athlete. He is older than he looks and it just accentuates the raw sexual energy that oozes from the pores covered by his cashmere sweater. You want to look at his ass, so you tell him that he should get comfortable. How about a nice cup of coffee, it is free to all customers? He bites, and gets up and strolls across the room to the coffee machine. Your eyes follow him. What a sexy ass! The tight jeans do nothing to hide his wares and you are impressed.

“I wonder if he is commando?” you muse. He is on his way back and you now pretend to be busy while you watch him approach your desk from your peripheral vision. He walks like a tiger, grace and danger pirouetting towards you. You have a quick flash- you are bent over your desk, skirt hiked up, panties down, his cock slowly penetrating your soaking pussy. Exquisitely filling you before his powerful body starts to pound you to orgasm. Is he wearing protection? God no! You want the raw effect of his cock filling you, his cum coating your insides.

Back to reality. It is a simple matter to fix, but you take your time engaging him in polite conversation that suddenly turns more intimate. You learn he is divorced, he has not been dating, he has two grown kids. A large house (hence the visit), currently between jobs, he is an amateur cyclist. Then he starts to gently flirt with you, and you encourage him. The smile that deflects thousands of angry customers becomes your tool of seduction. You can see him responding to you. Your panties were damp before he arrived, that is the effect of The Game. Now they are soaked, the result of reality.

“What time do you get off work?” he asks.


“Do you eat lunch?”


“Are you hungry?”


“Are you going to lunch soon?”

“Why yes. Probably after I take care of this for you”

“The place across the street, is it any good?”

“Yes, I like Bostancı travesti the food there, the soup and sandwich is very reasonable.”

And then, time pauses, the second hand on the clock on the wall across from you turns more slowly. You know what he is going to ask. You clench your pussy and feel the wave of pleasure as a mini orgasm hits you. Your eyes lose focus for just a second, you feel the trickle of heat on your thighs making its way down to the tops of your stockings. He asks the question and you agree. The transaction is complete. He leaves professing his gratitude and you watch his ass as he walks out of the door. You motion to your boss that you are taking lunch. You bend over your desk with a pixie-esque smile knowing he got an eyeful of your shapely mounds. You wonder if he gets hard looking at you. But you dismiss the notion as you cross the street, after all you can’t play The Game with your boss- that would be a mood killer.

The tables are small and close together, barely enough room for 2 plates. Intimacy is the word of the day, you are sat closer than 2 acquaintances. More like two lovers. The ice is broken. You are both engaged in deep conversation as you both slowly eat your lunch. The conversation turns personal. He shows you a picture of his Ex. Why is he carrying that around, when most men would have burned it? To remind him to never date a woman like her again. You almost choke over your food at that point. She was so beautiful, hell you would do her! And then he said the most startling thing.

“Why aren’t more women like you?”

“Like me?”

“Yes, you are so easy to be with. You were nice to me in the bank, no attitude. Just friendly and a genuinely nice person.” Genuinely nice? That’s nice not exactly what you are looking for.

“And forgive my forwardness, but you have this vibe.”

“Vibe?” Where is this going?

“There is an energy about you. Very positive. But enticing too, I am drawn to you. I would ask you out on a date, but I am leaving the country tonight for a one month vacation in Mexico. Change of scene. What is that perfume you are wearing?” You know what it is. The age old scent of a women who desperately need some relief. Your clit is throbbing. Just the conversation alone has given you 2 more mini orgasms, but it is not enough.

“Close your eyes.” You say.

“You aren’t going to run away are you?” He jokes, closing them anyway. He can hear a rustling for a few seconds.

“This is my perfume.” You hand him the wadded up soaked panties and close his fist on them so the other Kartal travesti customers cannot see what you handed him. He opens his eyes. They dilate for a second and then he brings the fist to his nose and inhales deeply. He closes his eyes for a second savoring the sensory delight.

“Meet me in the women’s bathroom in two minutes. Knock twice on the door.” You instruct him. You get up and wind your way around the corner, along the corridor to the bathroom. Fortunately, it is a single locked door, no stalls. You check your make up in the mirror and hear the double knock. He enters swiftly and locks the door. You have your back to the sink as he steps towards you and hikes you up so you are perched on the edge. He pulls up your skirt and immediately plunges his tongue into your wet interior. Your pussy spasms immediately and you cum as he starts to suck on you. You are mewing, fists balled as the first powerful orgasm hits you. You are shaking, legs wrapped around his head squeezing him as he continues to pleasure you. Time stops as he continues, licking and sucking and another orgasm as strong as the first one hits you. You are now on a plateau, panting, hanging on, insane amounts of sexual pleasure. When you get to this place you reach that point where you are willing to do anything to make it continue. It melts you to your core, and satisfies that deepest desire. Yet eventually you start to come down, your pussy and clit are humming, you are still panting but you feel the mouth that has given you such a wonderful high leave you.

Your eyes are closed, your skirt hiked up, the pale skin above your lacey thigh-highs is exposed. Your pussy is puffy and ever so wet. You hear the click of a belt buckle undoing and feel the soft skin of the head of his penis graze your mound as he steadies himself. And then he is inside you. Not gentle, but not rough. An assertive entry that is perfect. It fills you. You clench again and he feels your creamy excitement coat his cock. He stays deep inside, stretching and filling yous. You are on the plateau again as he starts to pound your pussy. Your legs are wrapped around him, your hands are holding on to the sink. Your neck is rolled back, eyes are closed, breasts arching and aching for attention as you become a vassal for his enjoyment. He lasts longer than you think he would, and you revel at staying on the plateau for so long. And then the magical spell is broken. You feel him tense and then cry out. He is squirting his seed deep inside you. That thought alone gives you one more orgasm. You open your eyes to see the intensity in his eyes as he grinds your clit to maximize his diminishing orgasm. You both stare at each other grinning and panting.

“Would you like more?” he pants.

“Oh god yes.”

“Do you have a passport…?”

Like I said. Sometimes life goes sideways and sometimes it is turns you on your head.

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